Page 30 of The Sunlit Man

“That’s why there aren’t any ghosts here,” he said softly in Alethi. “Threnodites, they have this phantom echo to their souls. A sort of smoky shadow that lives on after they die. Here, there’s not a chance for that. Their souls are condensed, fused, turned into…”

A power cell. One of which he’d consumed to make his Connection to this planet. Another event that took on a gruesome air in hindsight. He felt at his coat pocket, where he’d hidden the drained core after getting his new clothing.

One soul’s worth, even with a shade attached, wouldn’t be enough for us to absorb over a thousand BEUs of Investiture like we did,Aux said.So there must be some other force filling the stone, like Stormlight on Roshar. The sunlight must be Invested, as we guessed. It’s supercharging the remnants of the soul as the person is killed.

It was the only thing that made sense, as they’d never be able to power entire cities from souls alone. Not without running out of people very quickly. Still, the implications of it left him nauseous.

“Your reaction,” Rebeke said. “It’s genuine, isn’t it? You had no idea what sunhearts were.”

“I didn’t.”

“Then, in truth, there’s hope. Authentic hope. A better life than even Elegy presumed to offer.”

“Your city…still uses such sacrifices?” Nomad said.

“What else are we to do? We can’t outrun the sun without power. Unlike the Cinder King’s lottery, my people have always used volunteers. From among the elderly, the sickly.” She absentmindedly traced the outline of the sunheart’s housing. “Mother was dying. She might have had months left, she might have haddays, she might have had years. But we had three spent sunhearts and ships that couldn’t flee. So…” She took a deep breath.

“So you leave people out to die,” he said. “They become these…power sources. How do you find them again?”

“The prospector ships,” she said. “It’s why we have them. Sunhearts float near the top of magma for some reason. You can find them in roughly the same place you left the people, though you often have to pry them from the stone.” Her hand stilled. “My brother installed Mother’s sunheart here, in our quadcycle, so I could have it near me. Now that he’s…he’s gone, and Mother, and even Elegy…”

This storming world, the knight says with a breathless voice. Indicating horror, not arousal, since that word is sometimes used both ways. Just in case you were wondering.

“When they captured me,” Nomad said, “the Cinder King took off his glove and seized me by the face. He expected something to happen. It didn’t.”

That comment shook Rebeke out of her melancholy, prompting her to stare at him again. She looked at his hands. Ungloved. Clearly curious, Rebeke removed her right glove, then hesitated.

“May I?” she asked.

He shrugged. So she reached across and touched his wrist.

“Nothing,” she said, amazed.

“And what issupposedto happen?”

“I should be able to draw out your heat,” she said. “Some of your soul. As I initiated the touch, I should be able to pull it forth from your body, cooling you—it’s what the bracers do. They did work on you, though?”

“Unfortunately,” he said. “What is being drawn from you is something we call Investiture. A different state of energy, andthe removal of it cools you in the process. That’s a side effect, though. Because of your heritage, your people have an interesting type of Investiture—as do I, though mine is of a different variety.”

“Why did the bracers work on you,” she said, “but my touch does not?”

It was tough to say. Though he’d once made a study of this sort of thing, it had been decades since he’d given it much thought. And the various nuances of Investiture could be tricky even for an expert.

“Investiture is finicky,” he said. “Usually requires specific things—Intent, Commands, familiarity—to manipulate. It’s likely that the bracers were brutal enough to force through my protections, but your touch isn’t.”

She pulled her hand away from him and blushed, quickly putting her glove back on. “It’s unusual,” she said, “to do that.”

“What?” he asked. “Touch someone?”

She nodded, embarrassed. “Normally it only happens because of accidents.”

“I saw the Cinder King do it intentionally,” he said. “Killing people in the arena, consuming their Investiture.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “He can draw forth heat quickly, powerfully, by force. He can feed upon a human being, leave them a dead husk. He has…fed on thousands of people at this point.”

Wow,Aux said.Thousands? Watch that one, Nomad. If he’s that highly Invested…he could be seriously dangerous.

“Regardless,” Rebeke continued, “any touch can lead to heat being drawn or given—even for a normal person and even if not intended. It is rare for it to be dangerous, though.”

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