Words of Radiance: Book Two of the Stormlight Archive (The Stormlight Archive, 2) by Brandon Sanderson
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Words of Radiance: Book Two of the Stormlight Archive (The Stormlight Archive, 2)

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From #1 New York Times bestselling author Brandon Sanderson, Words of Radiance, Book Two of the Stormlight Archive, continues the immersive fantasy epic that The Way of Kings began.

Expected by his enemies to die the miserable death of a military slave, Kaladin survived to be given command of the royal bodyguards, a controversial first for a low-status "darkeyes." Now he must protect the king and Dalinar from every common peril as well as the distinctly uncommon threat of the Assassin, all while secretly struggling to master remarkable new powers that are somehow linked to his honorspren, Syl.

The Assassin, Szeth, is active again, murdering rulers all over the world of Roshar, using his baffling powers to thwart every bodyguard and elude all pursuers. Among his prime targets is Highprince Dalinar, widely considered the power behind the Alethi throne. His leading role in the war would seem reason enough, but the Assassin's master has much deeper motives.

Brilliant but troubled Shallan strives along a parallel path. Despite being broken in ways she refuses to acknowledge, she bears a terrible burden: to somehow prevent the return of the legendary Voidbringers and the civilization-ending Desolation that will follow. The secrets she needs can be found at the Shattered Plains, but just arriving there proves more difficult than she could have imagined.

Meanwhile, at the heart of the Shattered Plains, the Parshendi are making an epochal decision. Hard pressed by years of Alethi attacks, their numbers ever shrinking, they are convinced by their war leader, Eshonai, to risk everything on a desperate gamble with the very supernatural forces they once fled. The possible consequences for Parshendi and humans alike, indeed, for Roshar itself, are as dangerous as they are incalculable.

Other Tor books by Brandon Sanderson

The Cosmere

The Stormlight Archive

  • ● The Way of Kings
  • ● Words of Radiance
  • ● Edgedancer (novella)
  • ● Oathbringer
  • ● Dawnshard (novella)
  • ● Rhythm of War

The Mistborn Saga

The Original Trilogy

  • ● Mistborn
  • ● The Well of Ascension
  • ● The Hero of Ages

Wax and Wayne

  • ● The Alloy of Law
  • ● Shadows of Self
  • ● The Bands of Mourning
  • ● The Lost Metal

Other Cosmere novels

  • ● Elantris
  • ● Warbreaker
  • ● Tress of the Emerald Sea
  • ● Yumi and the Nightmare Painter
  • ● The Sunlit Man

Collection

  • ● Arcanum Unbounded: The Cosmere Collection

The Alcatraz vs. the Evil Librarians series

  • ● Alcatraz vs. the Evil Librarians
  • ● The Scrivener's Bones
  • ● The Knights of Crystallia
  • ● The Shattered Lens
  • ● The Dark Talent
  • ● Bastille vs. the Evil Librarians (with Janci Patterson)

Other novels

  • ● The Rithmatist
  • ● Legion: The Many Lives of Stephen Leeds
  • ● The Frugal Wizard’s Handbook for Surviving Medieval England

Other books by Brandon Sanderson

The Reckoners

  • ● Steelheart
  • ● Firefight
  • ● Calamity

Skyward

  • ● Skyward
  • ● Starsight
  • ● Cytonic
  • ● Skyward Flight (with Janci Patterson)
  • ● Defiant

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ISBN-10

1250166535

ISBN-13

978-1250166531

Print length

1104 pages

Language

English

Publisher

Tor Books

Publication date

September 18, 2017

Dimensions

6.1 x 1.9 x 9.1 inches

Item weight

2.65 pounds



Popular highlights in this book

  • Jasnah had once defined a fool as a person who ignored information because it disagreed with desired results.

    Highlighted by 9,481 Kindle readers

  • Expectation wasn’t just about what people expected of you. It was about what you expected of yourself.

    Highlighted by 8,127 Kindle readers

  • I will protect even those I hate, Kaladin whispered through bloody lips. So long as it is right.

    Highlighted by 8,067 Kindle readers


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Editorial reviews

Praise for Brandon Sanderson and the Stormlight Archive

Over 10 million Stormlight Archive books sold!

“One of the genre’s most beloved authors.”―TIME

“Sanderson raises the genre stakes… A fan favorite.”―The New York Times

“[Sanderson] is not a brilliant writer of epic fantasy, he’s simply a brilliant writer. Period.”―Patrick Rothfuss, #1 New York Times bestselling author

“The genre’s most popular writer… easily one of the most successful and prolific fantasy writers of the century so far.”―Esquire

“Epic in every sense.”―The Guardian on The Way of Kings

“Sanderson is a master of many aspects of the fantasy genre: epic world-building, coherent systems of magic and unforgettable character development. All those are in peak form in his masterwork, The Way of Kings.”―Paste Magazine, “The 50 Best Fantasy Books of the 21st Century (So Far)”

“Absolutely revels in its fantasy world, one of actual gods, bizarre magic, knights with superpowers, spirits and sorcery, monsters, demons, and magic sword[s] called Shardblades. It embraces the fantastic, and does so with an astonishing amount of creativity . . . Words of Radiance is a must-read.”―io9on Words of Radiance

“Excellent . . . cranks up the level of intrigue to dizzying extremes…Sanderson’s experiment is working, and he gets better with every book. The journey will be worth it. Yes, you should buy this book. Yes, this is a series worth following to the end.”―Reactoron Words of Radiance

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Sample

1

SANTHID

To be perfectly frank, what has happened these last two months is upon my head. The death, destruction, loss, and pain are my burden. I should have seen it coming. And I should have stopped it. —From the personal journal of Navani Kholin, Jeseses 1174

Shallan pinched the thin charcoal pencil and drew a series of straight lines radiating from a sphere on the horizon. That sphere wasn’tquite the sun, nor was it one of the moons. Clouds outlined in charcoal seemed to stream toward it. And the sea beneath them … A drawing could not convey the bizarre nature of that ocean, made not of water but of small beads of translucent glass.

Shallan shivered, remembering that place. Jasnah knew much more of it than she would speak of to her ward, and Shallan wasn’t certain how to ask. How did one demand answers after a betrayal such as Shallan’s? Only a few days had passed since that event, and Shallan still didn’t know exactly how her relationship with Jasnah would proceed.

The deck rocked as the ship tacked, enormous sails fluttering overhead. Shallan was forced to grab the railing with her clothed safehand to steady herself. Captain Tozbek said that so far, the seas hadn’t been bad for this part of Longbrow’s Straits. However, she might have to go below if the waves and motion got much worse.

Shallan exhaled and tried to relax as the ship settled. A chill wind blew, and windspren zipped past on invisible air currents. Every time the sea grew rough, Shallan remembered that day, that alien ocean of glass beads …

She looked down again at what she’d drawn. She had only glimpsed that place, and her sketch was not perfect. It—

She frowned. On her paper, a pattern had risen, like an embossing. What had she done? That pattern was almost as wide as the page, a sequence of complex lines with sharp angles and repeated arrowhead shapes. Was it an effect of drawing that weird place, the place Jasnah said was named Shadesmar? Shallan hesitantly moved her freehand to feel the unnatural ridges on the page.

The pattern moved, sliding across the page like an axehound pup under a bedsheet.

Shallan yelped and leapt from her seat, dropping her sketchpad to the deck. The loose pages slumped to the planks, fluttering and then scattering in the wind. Nearby sailors—Thaylen men with long white eyebrows they combed back over their ears—scrambled to help, snatching sheets from the air before they could blow overboard.

“You all right, young miss?” Tozbek asked, looking over from a conversation with one of his mates. The short, portly Tozbek wore a wide sash and a coat of gold and red matched by the cap on his head. He wore his eyebrows up and stiffened into a fanned shape above his eyes.

“I’m well, Captain,” Shallan said. “I was merely spooked.”

Yalb stepped up to her, proffering the pages. “Your accouterments, my lady.”

Shallan raised an eyebrow. “Accouterments?”

“Sure,” the young sailor said with a grin. “I’m practicing my fancy words. They help a fellow obtain reasonable feminine companionship. You know—the kind of young lady who doesn’t smell too bad an’ has at least a few teeth left.”

“Lovely,” Shallan said, taking the sheets back. “Well, depending on your definition of lovely, at least.” She suppressed further quips, suspiciously regarding the stack of pages in her hand. The picture she’d drawn of Shadesmar was on top, no longer bearing the strange embossed ridges.

“What happened?” Yalb said. “Did a cremling crawl out from under you or something?” As usual, he wore an open-fronted vest and a pair of loose trousers.

“It was nothing,” Shallan said softly, tucking the pages away into her satchel.

Yalb gave her a little salute—she had no idea why he had taken to doing that—and went back to tying rigging with the other sailors. She soon caught bursts of laughter from the men near him, and when she glanced at him, gloryspren danced around his head—they took the shape of little spheres of light. He was apparently very proud of the jape he’d just made.

She smiled. It was indeed fortunate that Tozbek had been delayed in Kharbranth. She liked this crew, and was happy that Jasnah had selected them for their voyage. Shallan sat back down on the box that Captain Tozbek had ordered lashed beside the railing so she could enjoy the sea as they sailed. She had to be wary of the spray, which wasn’t terribly good for her sketches, but so long as the seas weren’t rough, the opportunity to watch the waters was worth the trouble.

The scout atop the rigging let out a shout. Shallan squinted in the direction he pointed. They were within sight of the distant mainland, sailing parallel to it. In fact, they’d docked at port last night to shelter from the highstorm that had blown past. When sailing, you always wanted to be near to port—venturing into open seas when a highstorm could surprise you was suicidal.

The smear of darkness to the north was the Frostlands, a largely uninhabited area along the bottom edge of Roshar. Occasionally, she caught a glimpse of higher cliffs to the south. Thaylenah, the great island kingdom, made another barrier there. The straits passed between the two.

The lookout had spotted something in the waves just north of the ship, a bobbing shape that at first appeared to be a large log. No, it was much larger than that, and wider. Shallan stood, squinting, as it drew closer. It turned out to be a domed brown-green shell, about the size of three rowboats lashed together. As they passed by, the shell came up alongside the ship and somehow managed to keep pace, sticking up out of the water perhaps six or eight feet.

A santhid! Shallan leaned out over the rail, looking down as the sailors jabbered excitedly, several joining her in craning out to see the creature. Santhidyn were so reclusive that some of her books claimed they were extinct and all modern reports of them untrustworthy.

“You are good luck, young miss!” Yalb said to her with a laugh as he passed by with rope. “We ain’t seen a santhid in years.”

“You still aren’t seeing one,” Shallan said. “Only the top of its shell.” To her disappointment, waters hid anything else—save shadows of something in the depths that might have been long arms extending downward. Stories claimed the beasts would sometimes follow ships for days, waiting out in the sea as the vessel went into port, then following them again once the ship left.

“The shell is all you ever see of one,” Yalb said. “Passions, this is a good sign!”

Shallan clutched her satchel. She took a Memory of the creature down there beside the ship by closing her eyes, fixing the image of it in her head so she could draw it with precision.

Draw what, though? she thought. A lump in the water?

An idea started to form in her head. She spoke it aloud before she could think better. “Bring me that rope,” she said, turning to Yalb.

“Brightness?” he asked, stopping in place.

“Tie a loop in one end,” she said, hurriedly setting her satchel on her seat. “I need to get a look at the santhid. I’ve never actually put my head underwater in the ocean. Will the salt make it difficult to see?”

“Underwater?” Yalb said, voice squeaking.

“You’re not tying the rope.”

“Because I’m not a storming fool! Captain will have my head if…”

“Get a friend,” Shallan said, ignoring him and taking the rope to tie one end into a small loop. “You’re going to lower me down over the side, and I’m going get a glimpse of what’s under the shell. Do you realize that nobody hasever produced a drawing of a live santhid? All the ones that have washed up on beaches were badly decomposed. And since sailors consider hunting the things to be bad luck—”

“It is!” Yalb said, voice growing more high pitched. “Ain’t nobody going to kill one.”

Shallan finished the loop and hurried to the side of the ship, her red hair whipping around her face as she leaned out over the rail. The santhid was still there. How did it keep up? She could see no fins.

She looked back at Yalb, who held the rope, grinning. “Ah, Brightness. Is this payback for what I said about your backside to Beznk? That was just in jest, but you got me good! I…” He trailed off as she met his eyes. “Storms. You’re serious.”

“I’ll not have another opportunity like this. Naladan chased these things for most of her life and never got a good look at one.”

“This is insanity!”

“No, this is scholarship! I don’t know what kind of view I can get through the water, but I have to try.”

Yalb sighed. “We have masks. Made from a tortoise shell with glass in hollowed-out holes on the front and bladders along the edges to keep the water out. You can duck your head underwater with one on and see. We use them to check over the hull at dock.”

“Wonderful!”

“Of course, I’d have to go to the captain to get permission to take one.…”

She folded her arms. “Devious of you. Well, get to it.” It was unlikely she’d be able to go through with this without the captain finding out anyway.

Yalb grinned. “What happened to you in Kharbranth? Your first trip with us, you were so timid, you looked like you’d faint at the mere thought of sailing away from your homeland!”

Shallan hesitated, then found herself blushing. “This is somewhat foolhardy, isn’t it?”

“Hanging from a moving ship and sticking your head in the water?” Yalb said. “Yeah. Kind of a little.”

“Do you think … we could stop the ship?”

Yalb laughed, but went jogging off to speak with the captain, taking her query as an indication she was still determined to go through with her plan. And she was.

What did happen to me? she wondered.

The answer was simple. She’d lost everything. She’d stolen from Jasnah Kholin, one of the most powerful women in the world—and in so doing had not only lost her chance to study as she’d always dreamed, but had also doomed her brothers and her house. She had failed utterly and miserably.

And she’d pulled through it.

She wasn’t unscathed. Her credibility with Jasnah had been severely wounded, and she felt that she had all but abandoned her family. But something about the experience of stealing Jasnah’s Soulcaster—which had turned out to be a fake anyway—then nearly being killed by a man she’d thought was in love with her …

Well, she now had a better idea of how bad things could get. It was as if … once she had feared the darkness, but now she had stepped into it. She had experienced some of the horrors that awaited her there. Terrible as they were, at least she knew.

You always knew, a voice whispered deep inside of her. You grew up with horrors, Shallan. You just won’t let yourself remember them.

“What is this?” Tozbek asked as he came up, his wife, Ashlv, at his side. The diminutive woman did not speak much; she dressed in a skirt and blouse of bright yellow, a headscarf covering all of her hair except the two white eyebrows, which she had curled down beside her cheeks.

“Young miss,” Tozbek said, “you want to go swimming? Can’t you wait until we get into port? I know of some nice areas where the water is not nearly so cold.”

“I won’t be swimming,” Shallan said, blushing further. What would she wear to go swimming with men about? Did people really do that? “I need to get a closer look at our companion.” She gestured toward the sea creature.

“Young miss, you know I can’t allow something so dangerous. Even if we stopped the ship, what if the beast harmed you?”

“They’re said to be harmless.”

“They are so rare, can we really know for certain? Besides, there are other animals in these seas that could harm you. Redwaters hunt this area for certain, and we might be in shallow enough water for khornaks to be a worry.” Tozbek shook his head. “I’m sorry, I just cannot allow it.”

Shallan bit her lip, and found her heart beating traitorously. She wanted to push harder, but that decisive look in his eyes made her wilt. “Very well.”

Tozbek smiled broadly. “I’ll take you to see some shells in the port at Amydlatn when we stop there, young miss. They have quite a collection!”

She didn’t know where that was, but from the jumble of consonants squished together, she assumed it would be on the Thaylen side. Most cities were, this far south. Though Thaylenah was nearly as frigid as the Frostlands, people seemed to enjoy living there.

Of course, Thaylens were all a little off. How else to describe Yalb and the others wearing no shirts despite the chill in the air?

They weren’t the ones contemplating a dip in the ocean, Shallan reminded herself. She looked over the side of the ship again, watching waves break against the shell of the gentle santhid. What was it? A great-shelled beast, like the fearsome chasmfiends of the Shattered Plains? Was it more like a fish under there, or more like a tortoise? The santhidyn were so rare—and the occasions when scholars had seen them in person so infrequent—that the theories all contradicted one another. She sighed and opened her satchel, then set to organizing her papers, most of which were practice sketches of the sailors in various poses as they worked to maneuver the massive sails overhead, tacking against the wind. Her father would never have allowed her to spend a day sitting and watching a bunch of shirtless darkeyes. How much her life had changed in such a short time.

She was working on a sketch of the santhid’s shell when Jasnah stepped up onto the deck.

Like Shallan, Jasnah wore the havah, a Vorin dress of distinctive design. The hemline was down at her feet and the neckline almost at her chin. Some of the Thaylens—when they thought she wasn’t listening—referred to the clothing as prudish. Shallan disagreed; the havah wasn’t prudish, but elegant. Indeed, the silk hugged the body, particularly through the bust—and the way the sailors gawked at Jasnah indicated they didn’t find the garment unflattering.

Jasnah was pretty. Lush of figure, tan of skin. Immaculate eyebrows, lips painted a deep red, hair up in a fine braid. Though Jasnah was twice Shallan’s age, her mature beauty was something to be admired, even envied. Why did the woman have to be so perfect?

Jasnah ignored the eyes of the sailors. It wasn’t that she didn’t notice men. Jasnah noticed everything and everyone. She simply didn’t seem to care, one way or another, how men perceived her.

No, that’s not true, Shallan thought as Jasnah walked over. She wouldn’t take the time to do her hair, or put on makeup, if she didn’t care how she was perceived. In that, Jasnah was an enigma. On one hand, she seemed to be a scholar concerned only with her research. On the other hand, she cultivated the poise and dignity of a king’s daughter—and, at times, used it like a bludgeon.

“And here you are,” Jasnah said, walking to Shallan. A spray of water from the side of the ship chose that moment to fly up and sprinkle her. She frowned at the drops of water beading on her silk clothing, then looked back to Shallan and raised her eyebrow. “The ship, you may have noticed, has two very fine cabins that I hired out for us at no small expense.”

“Yes, but they’re inside.”

“As rooms usually are.”

“I’ve spent most of my life inside.”

“So you will spend much more of it, if you wish to be a scholar.”

Shallan bit her lip, waiting for the order to go below. Curiously, it did not come. Jasnah gestured for Captain Tozbek to approach, and he did so, groveling his way over with cap in hand.

“Yes, Brightness?” he asked.

“I should like another of these … seats,” Jasnah said, regarding Shallan’s box.

Tozbek quickly had one of his men lash a second box in place. As she waited for the seat to be ready, Jasnah waved for Shallan to hand over her sketches. Jasnah inspected the drawing of the santhid, then looked over the side of the ship. “No wonder the sailors were making such a fuss.”

“Luck, Brightness!” one of the sailors said. “It is a good omen for your trip, don’t you think?”

“I shall take any fortune provided me, Nanhel Eltorv,” she said. “Thank you for the seat.”

The sailor bowed awkwardly before retreating.

“You think they’re superstitious fools,” Shallan said softly, watching the sailor leave.

“From what I have observed,” Jasnah said, “these sailors are men who have found a purpose in life and now take simple pleasure in it.” Jasnah looked at the next drawing. “Many people make far less out of life. Captain Tozbek runs a good crew. You were wise in bringing him to my attention.”

Shallan smiled. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t ask a question,” Jasnah said. “These sketches are characteristically skillful, Shallan, but weren’t you supposed to be reading?”

“I … had trouble concentrating.”

“So you came up on deck,” Jasnah said, “to sketch pictures of young men working without their shirts on. You expected this tohelp your concentration?”

Shallan blushed, as Jasnah stopped at one sheet of paper in the stack. Shallan sat patiently—she’d been well trained in that by her father—until Jasnah turned it toward her. The picture of Shadesmar, of course.

“You have respected my command not to peer into this realm again?” Jasnah asked.

“Yes, Brightness. That picture was drawn from a memory of my first … lapse.”

Jasnah lowered the page. Shallan thought she saw a hint of something in the woman’s expression. Was Jasnah wondering if she could trust Shallan’s word?

“I assume this is what is bothering you?” Jasnah asked.

“Yes, Brightness.”

“I suppose I should explain it to you, then.”

“Really? You would do this?”

“You needn’t sound so surprised.”

“It seems like powerful information,” Shallan said. “The way you forbade me … I assumed that knowledge of this place was secret, or at least not to be trusted to one of my age.”

Jasnah sniffed. “I’ve found that refusing to explain secrets to young people makes themmore prone to get themselves into trouble, not less. Your experimentation proves that you’ve already stumbled face-first into all of this—as I once did myself, I’ll have you know. I know through painful experience how dangerous Shadesmar can be. If I leave you in ignorance, I’ll be to blame if you get yourself killed there.”

“So you’d have explained about it if I’d asked earlier in our trip?”

“Probably not,” Jasnah admitted. “I had to see how willing you were to obey me. This time.”

Shallan wilted, and suppressed the urge to point out that back when she’d been a studious and obedient ward, Jasnah hadn’t divulged nearly as many secrets as she did now. “So what is it? That … place.”

“It’s not truly a location,” Jasnah said. “Not as we usually think of them. Shadesmar is here, all around us, right now. All things exist there in some form, as all things exist here.”

Shallan frowned. “I don’t—”

Jasnah held up a finger to quiet her. “All things have three components: the soul, the body, and the mind. That place you saw, Shadesmar, is what we call the Cognitive Realm—the place of the mind.

“All around us you see the physical world. You can touch it, see it, hear it. This is how your physical body experiences the world. Well, Shadesmar is the way that your cognitive self—your unconscious self—experiences the world. Through your hidden senses touching that realm, you make intuitive leaps in logic and you form hopes. It is likely through those extra senses that you, Shallan, create art.”

Water splashed on the bow of the ship as it crossed a swell. Shallan wiped a drop of salty water from her cheek, trying to think through what Jasnah had just said. “That made almostno sense whatsoever to me, Brightness.”

“I should hope that it didn’t,” Jasnah said. “I’ve spent six years researching Shadesmar, and I still barely know what to make of it. I shall have to accompany you there several times before you can understand, even a little, the true significance of the place.”

Jasnah grimaced at the thought. Shallan was always surprised to see visible emotion from her. Emotion was something relatable, something human—and Shallan’s mental image of Jasnah Kholin was of someone almost divine. It was, upon reflection, an odd way to regard a determined atheist.

“Listen to me,” Jasnah said. “My own words betray my ignorance. I told you that Shadesmar wasn’t a place, and yet I call it one in my next breath. I speak of visiting it, though it is all around us. We simply don’t have the proper terminology to discuss it. Let me try another tactic.”

Jasnah stood up, and Shallan hastened to follow. They walked along the ship’s rail, feeling the deck sway beneath their feet. Sailors made way for Jasnah with quick bows. They regarded her with as much reverence as they would a king. How did she do it? How could she control her surroundings without seeming to do anything at all?

“Look down into the waters,” Jasnah said as they reached the bow. “What do you see?”

Shallan stopped beside the rail and stared down at the blue waters, foaming as they were broken by the ship’s prow. Here at the bow, she could see adeepness to the swells. An unfathomable expanse that extended not just outward, but downward.

“I see eternity,” Shallan said.

“Spoken like an artist,” Jasnah said. “This ship sails across depths we cannot know. Beneath these waves is a bustling, frantic, unseen world.”

Jasnah leaned forward, gripping the rail with one hand unclothed and the other veiled within the safehand sleeve. She looked outward. Not at the depths, and not at the land distantly peeking over both the northern and southern horizons. She looked toward the east. Toward the storms.

“There is an entire world, Shallan,” Jasnah said, “of which our minds skim but the surface. A world of deep, profound thought. A worldcreated by deep, profound thoughts. When you see Shadesmar, you enter those depths. It is an alien place to us in some ways, but at the same time we formed it. With some help.”

“We did what?”

“What are spren?” Jasnah asked.

The question caught Shallan off guard, but by now she was accustomed to challenging questions from Jasnah. She took time to think and consider her answer.

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About the authors

Brandon Sanderson

Brandon Sanderson

I’m Brandon Sanderson, and I write stories of the fantastic: fantasy, science fiction, and thrillers.

Defiant, the fourth and final volume of the series that started with Skyward in 2018, comes out in November 2023, capping an already book-filled year that will see the releases of all four Secret Projects: Tress of the Emerald Sea, The Frugal Wizard’s Handbook for Surviving Medieval England, Yumi and the Nightmare Painter, and Secret Project Four (with its official title reveal coming October 2023). These four books were all initially offered to backers of the #1 Kickstarter campaign of all time.

November 2022 saw the release of The Lost Metal, the seventh volume in the Mistborn saga, and the final volume of the Mistborn Era Two featuring Wax & Wayne. The third era of Mistborn is slated to be written after the first arc of the Stormlight Archive wraps up.

In November 2020 we saw the release of Rhythm of War—the fourth massive book in the New York Times #1 bestselling Stormlight Archive series that began with The Way of Kings—and Dawnshard (book 3.5), a novella set in the same world that bridges the gaps between the main releases. This series is my love letter to the epic fantasy genre, and it’s the type of story I always dreamed epic fantasy could be. The fifth volume, Wind and Truth, is set for release in fall 2024.

Most readers have noticed that my adult fantasy novels are in a connected universe called the Cosmere. This includes The Stormlight Archive, both Mistborn series, Elantris, Warbreaker, and various novellas available on Amazon, including The Emperor’s Soul, which won a Hugo Award in 2013. In November 2016 all of the existing Cosmere short fiction was released in one volume called Arcanum Unbounded. If you’ve read all of my adult fantasy novels and want to see some behind-the-scenes information, that collection is a must-read.

I also have three YA series: The Rithmatist (currently at one book), The Reckoners (a trilogy beginning with Steelheart), and Skyward. For young readers I also have my humorous series Alcatraz vs. the Evil Librarians, which had its final book, Bastille vs. the Evil Librarians, come out in 2022. Many of my adult readers enjoy all of those books as well, and many of my YA readers enjoy my adult books, usually starting with Mistborn.

Additionally, I have a few other novellas that are more on the thriller/sci-fi side. These include the Legion series, as well as Perfect State and Snapshot. There’s a lot of material to go around!

Good starting places are Mistborn (a.k.a. The Final Empire), Skyward, Steelheart,The Emperor’s Soul, and Alcatraz vs. the Evil Librarians. If you’re already a fan of big fat fantasies, you can jump right into The Way of Kings.

I was also honored to be able to complete the final three volumes of The Wheel of Time, beginning with The Gathering Storm, using Robert Jordan’s notes.

Sample chapters from all of my books are available at brandonsanderson.com—and check out the rest of my site for chapter-by-chapter annotations, deleted scenes, and more.

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Reviews

Customer reviews

4.8 out of 5

75,970 global ratings

Ries Murphy

Ries Murphy

5

Gumption and Spit (Or: Well, I'm back. Again.)

Reviewed in the United States on March 29, 2014

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Sometime later on in Words of Radiance, during one of the many Interludes that appear between each of the behemoth novel's five sprawling parts, a character named Lift ambles up the side of a castle wall using powers we'll leave here unspecified on her way to steal. Soon thereafter, a boy joins her side and asks her how she managed to scale the wall, as there was no ladder for her to do so, and he himself needed a rope that she lowered down to him. "Gumption and spit," Lift replies, before traipsing onwards towards her destiny. Gumption and spit, indeed. Here is a marvelous combination of things that can result in magical things - even if the final product is a bit messy.

Over one year ago, I wrote up my thoughts concerning Brandon Sanderson's entry volume to the Stormlight Archive, "The Way of Kings" and had a blast lauding the book, not to mention infuriating fans of Dune everywhere. The Way of Kings was (and is, upon re-reading) one of the best fantasy novels I have ever read - heck, one of the most best books I've ever read, period - and I gave it a 9.5/10 (a 5/5 by Amazon's star system) after desperately pruning it down from the 10/10 I initially wanted to give it by taking off half a point for Kaladin Stormblessed's face palm worthy emo moments and Shallan Davar being...well, herself. In short, The Way of Kings was one of my favorite books of all time, in large part because of the series it promised.

So, the question I needed Words of Radiance to answer was, "Is the series still promising?" And the answer is "Yes." And that's a good, good thing - a relief, even. Following my tradition, the first paragraph of this review is about as closer to a spoiler as I'm going to get - fear not, wary reader. No spoilers follow for Words of Radiance...but if you haven't read the Way of Kings, I'd recommend not going any further than this. I will address subject matter you probably don't want to know. Come on back after you've read the first book and the series, and we'll talk.

For the rest of you, we'll go ahead and get the brass tax out of the way up front here - Words of Radiance is a good book. I'd give it an 8.8/10 on my scale, or about a 4.5/5 on Amazon's star scale. Amazon doesn't seem to see the need for half stars in their options, so in an effort to not under-represent this book, I'm marking it as a 5/5. Technically, it's closer to a 4/5, but that 4 star rating just looks bad, doesn't it? Frankly, I don't have the heart to mark Words of Radiance down that far. It is, by all accounts, a better book than its predecessor, and Sanderson has clearly grown as an author, his prose and descriptive power reaching very good levels. So why the negative hullabaloo from the Way of Kings' self-professed biggest fan?

Well, I guess it's just because I didn't like this book as much as the first one. Not by a long shot, actually. In fact, so long as we're being honest, I thought parts one and two of Words of Radiance were two of the bleakest, most "oh my God not Song of Ice and Fire syndrome please Sanderson no" pages I've ever trudged through. It was, for lack of a better word, a frightening time in my life, having been excited for this book since I first left Roshar so long ago. I had recently returned from a deployment to Afghanistan, and I had more wrapped up in the Stormlight Archive than a simple thirst for entertainment. It was the first book I read upon returning to the States, and there's something...special, maybe, about that. That, and this book series is going to be ten books long. I will grow up with it, in many ways, as will we all. I was pretty frightened that the Way of Kings might have been a fluke, and the nine books that followed it were destined to be more like the middle of the Wheel of Time or the last two iterations of Ice and Fire.

Be at peace, readers. Parts 3, 4 and 5 of Words of Radiance are all truly wonderful, and Sanderson seemed to get his mojo back by the time I hit them. The book earns the five star rating I've awarded it, and its because of its moments of sheer brilliance that I find myself disappointed and genuinely baffled by the unnecessary moments of tedium that drag the book as whole down away from its predecessor. Ultimately, the Stormlight Archive is, at the end of Words of Radiance, in very good shape. There are places for it to go, questions for it to answer, battles to be fought and mysteries to be unraveled. That's all that matters, really. This was Shallan's book, and thus the book most of us were most wary of to begin with. She was a frustrating character in the Way of Kings, and in some ways she's even more frustrating here, but for very different reasons. I didn't particularly like her in the first book, and I liked her even less by the end of this one. I can't help but wonder if my relationship with the book was in large part due to my relationship with her.

My biggest complaint about Words of Radiance is actually directly connected with its biggest strength. It is a massive tome - a sprawling behemoth of a book, and as a result we get to see more of Roshar than ever before. More of its politics, its mysteries, its religions, its cultures, its landscapes, its magic. Thank God for that, since I love this world and I never want to leave. But Sanderon's pacing here is...well, off. (The witty banter is also painful to read, at times, but it adds to the charm of the characters, in its own weird way.)

What I mean about the pacing is this - parts one and two trudge along at a snail's pace, getting bogged down by high prince politicking (that ends up being unimportant come book's end), Shallan lying to herself and to the world, and Kaladin returning to his fantastically emo roots, and Adolin channeling a G-rated Jaime Lannister minus Cersei. Dalinar recedes into the background a bit here, but I don't mind this as much as I thought I would, Jasnah continues to be a great character, Lopen gets funnier, and Shen proves to be more elaborate than he originally seemed. Rock remains a good cook.

We see much more of Parshendi culture, learn more about the lost city of Urithuru, and of Taravengian's evil plan to save the world. We learn about the nature of spren early on, and about the nature of shard blades late in the book. Part five of Words of Radiance is arguably the best part of the bunch, and is also the shortest - by a LONG shot - and could have easily been a hundred pages longer. Should have been, I'd venture to say, as the first 90% of the book leads up to the climactic final 10% - but when the revelations finally emerge, they're given maybe a page or two of attention. It startled me. The twists you came to find out - predictable or not - should have been given much, much more space to breathe. I would have loved that. In an effort to counterbalance this paragraph of nay saying, I will say that there are a couple of duels / battles in Words of Radiance that had me smiling like a blithering idiot. Sanderson still knows how to write a fight. Man oh man oh man.

So does Words of Radiance reveal too much or too little? Both, I think - Sanderson shows us so much in this book, yet it feels like he's trying to fit in as MUCH as humanly possible into a tiny space, which baffles me, since he just spent a thousand pages building up to those reveals. It was like he lost a little faith in the fact that his world is interesting enough as it is without having to try and elaborate what makes it interesting, and as a result he worked and worked and worked on parts of little consequence, exposing the clues too neatly, and when it came to the parts that really, actually mattered, he was out of both time and space.

There was no need to try and recreate the mind breaking ending of the Way of Kings, but I do appreciate the effort to do so. Maybe it'll be something we can expect in every book, a final hundred pages of twists and twists and twists. At best, this could set the Stormlight Archive aside from its contemporaries in wonderful fashion. At worst, Sanderson could...lowers voice to a conspiratorial whisper go the way of the Shyamalan. I know, blasphemy. Honestly, though, the Shyamalan effect is the deadliest enemy facing the Stormlight Archive on the whole right now. Hopefully the twists we find in book three of the Stormlight Archive are more satisfying.

I wonder, honestly, if Sanderson himself is very aware of the book he has wrought. He's a very perceptive man, and being a professor at Brigham Young University has allowed him to organize his thoughts on writing with the clear efficiency only someone who teaches writing could muster. I cannot help but assume that, post publication, he looks at Words of Radiance the way a professor might. The world of Roshar is still here, still full of surprises, still full of characters who will do things that surprise you. The characters are still (thankfully) themselves, and the magic is still really, really cool.

Yet something is lost when we come into this book expecting twists around every corner. It makes the moment when they finally come so much less remarkable - indeed, I actually predicted almost every twist before I ever cracked the book open, and I'm not always very good at that. I wonder, therefore, if part of the reason I didn't enjoy Words of Radiance as much as I had hoped I would is simply because I spent the whole book reading between the lines, searching for assassins in every shadow, for twists in every ambiguous statement. If it's possible for the quality of the book to lie in the reader, then that has been exemplified here. This brings me, at last, to the part of the book that astonished me most.

The character of Wit - who I am of the opinion acts almost as an avatar for Sanderson himself in the world of Roshar and Shadesmar - comments on the flaws and nature of the book surrounding him at the end of both the Way of Kings and Words of Radiance. He usually reveals the best twists in the midst of leaning on the fourth wall, and comments on what he perceives to be injustices in the world of art. In the Way of Kings, Wit argues that originality is what humanity values most, and in Words of Radiance, he argues that all art is subject to perspective.

"Give me an audience who have come to be entertained," Wit says in the epilogue, "but who expect nothing special. To them, I will be a god. That is the best truth I know."

Fellow readers, my advice is simple. Go into Words of Radiance looking to be entertained. Don't look for the twists. Looking for the twists is like sneaking a peek at presents the month before Christmas. Just wait, let the day come, and then tear the paper to pieces and scatter it all around, feeling the rush of not knowing what lies within. Sanderson is crafting for us a master series, and has eight more books to present. I for one am breathless for the continuation of the series, and have full faith in the author to turn this series into something very, very special. I'll see you all at the end of book three, which I am already hungry for. And, finally, to Mr. Sanderson himself.


Thank you, sir, for welcoming me home.

8.8/10

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Dennis Barrington

Dennis Barrington

5

Clear, Tight, Radiant Masterpiece

Reviewed in the United States on April 11, 2014

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Book 2

Pros:

  • Amazingly eve better than the first book due to more plot and multiple story line's tie-ups that make for several tight endings.

  • Doesn't seem like an installment. It could stand on it's own.

  • Overall Plot is tight, well ordered, timing is metronomic.

  • Writing is super clear. Reading is a total breeze.

  • Creativity is in spades. Branderson is a certain master at imagining something new to you that he can describe easily as a picture, understandable the first time you read it.

  • This book is revealing the magic organization in deeper detail, but hints at more.

  • This book took the plot of god-metaphysics and created what had seemed contained into a subset. The universe just got larger.

  • There are multiple parallel plots going on, each switch making you crave and long for a return to the character you just read about. Most writers do this by chapter as he did in the first book, but this book increases the pace by having some chapters of 3 distinct narratives playing round-robin to keep interest and pace. This keeps your interest, but also helps you not lose your place with characters. A comparison is with Martin in that his last book entirely omitted characters, so that someone you read about in Book 4 you won't get to until Book 6 making re-reading necessary for anyone who don'ts have a perfect memory. Maybe that helps him sell more books to be re-read or that cool Apple App, but it's actually quite annoying to the reader.

Cons:

  • Some characters are too cutesy. The personality of the main Spren is too Tinker Bell for my taste. I think it takes what could be a serious and heavy pall over the entire work, giving this fiction a feeling of reality, that is dispelled by such frivolity.

  • I find some of the characters still 2 dimensional. Some character dialogue are too similar to each other, and example being that I noticed 2 distinct characters having the same exact syntax and verbiage to their sense of humor. This is the only flaw I can find in his writing that can still develop to perfection. Namely, verbal identity to character dialogue that effortlessly makes them seem distinct and real. It's still in some places too stiff and formulaic. It's still his Achille's Heel.

  • He promises a timely delivery on books, but gets side-tracked by other projects and pushes the dates back. So we are going to be waiting for a loooong, time. Hopefully not Robert Jordan time cause I don't think there is anyone capable of finishing Branderson's books as well or better.

Branderson's style is also classical in the sense that it's clean. There isn't modern cable channel gore or sexuality or shock plot for shock's sake to glue the interest of readers. He is a master of plot and doesn't let anything get in the way of keeping the plot moving exactly as he orders it. It's as if he believes good writing and great plot will keep the readers without the cheap literary gimmicks.

The timing of his unfolding plot is metronomic and the plot is of such quality, it appears that we not only have a breathtaking masterpiece in the works, but a rare generations output even by his own standards of work. I like some of his other books very much, but this undertaking's internal history is deep and somewhere below Tolkien and above R.R. Martin. Read my first book's review for a comparison between him and Martin and why they are only similar in that they are contemporaries.

The first book piqued my curiosity. This book has my interest, ha ha. So he is now my current favorite living fiction author.

Bottom line: Superb next step in the series & leaves you pining for Book 3.

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Robin Snyder

Robin Snyder

5

5 STARS JUST ISN'T ENOUGH

Reviewed in the United States on April 14, 2014

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"Honor is dead. But I'll see what I can do."

I stand in awe of fantasy writers that can make an entire new world, magic systems, cultures, history, lands and everything else that goes into making a great fantasy and fill it with so many details that while you are reading the story you can get so drawn in that you feel like you are there or that it is a real place. Brandon Sanderson is one such writer. I enjoyed The Way of Kings (WoK) and gave it a 4.5 rating Words of Radiance is even better and 5 stars just doesn't seem like enough. The world is richer and we hit the ground running in this installment since the world has already been set forth. Sanderson still built up on the foundation he already created in WoK and everything he added to it made if all the richer.

Sanderson is maybe the best writer I have read at giving a lot of ups and downs throughout the story but saving up and building steam for that last 15-20% where the s*** hits the fan and the intensity just skyrockets all the way to the end. I was on the edge of my seat, reminding myself to read all the words and take my time but I was so excited to see what happened next that I found myself reading faster and faster as everything in the story was unfolding.

Told from multiple POVs throughout the story gives the reader an all-encompassing understanding of the world and the various interests and plots of gods and men. Every new layer and character added something to the story. The end of each part of the book had me struggling to take my time through the interludes as I couldn't wait to see what was happening with our characters. A few of the interludes were from the Parshendi POV and gave an interesting understanding of the war, and the Parshendi's goals. Some of the interludes revisited a few of the characters from WoK and made more sense to me in how they fit into this story while I imagine others importance will make more sense later.

While WoK's was very much Kaladins story WoR is more Shallan's. I was a little worried about this as I didn't really like Shallan very much in WoKs. She was naïve and came to steal for Jasnah for that very reason she was less likeable. But she totally grew on me in this book as she really comes into her own and we have a chance to learn of her past. She has been hiding from it for so long that it is hard for her to face.

"I seek the truth," Shallan said. "Wherever it may be, whoever may hold it. That's who I am."

I grew to really love her character. She is full of banter and wit and gets herself in just as much trouble as she gets herself out of. I had so much fun following her story as she travelled to the shattered plains and it was even more fun once she met both Kaladin and Adolin. I see the hint of a possible love triangle in there somewhere but thank god it hasn't hit yet. I really enjoyed the time she spent with each of the men but her first meeting and later banter with Kaladin was some of the funniest dialogue in the book.

"The only time you seem honest is when you're insulting someone!" "The only honest things I can say to you are insults."

Oh Shallon does have a sharp tongue and it seems that she is unlike anyone else Adolin has tried to date before. She has the princeling a little twisted up with what he should do. The way that Shallon is able to affect the lives of those around her and change them for the better was amazing as well. She was able to change the lives a few people extraordinarily and her new found abilities are extremely intriguing. She does seem in a little over her head though.

Adolin was also a character from the last book that I wasn't a huge fan of. Compared to his father Dalinar and Kaladin he just wasn't that interesting to me. Well that has totally changed in this book. Adolin is more than he seems for sure and as a few of the chapters are told from his perspective I really started to enjoy his character. The lengths he goes to for the people in his family and for what he feels is right are fantastic. But he still has the privileged air about him so he does it in the most comfortable manor possible.

"Kaladin frowned. "Wait. Are you wearing cologne? In prison?" "Well, there was no need to be barbaric, just because I was incarcerated." "Storms, you're spoiled," Kaladin said, smiling. "I'm refined, you insolent farmer," Adolin said. Then he grinned. "Besides, I'll have you know that I had to use cold water for my baths while here." "Poor boy."

Kaladin's arc is a journey of right and wrong, honor and betrayal, past and present. He has a big boulder on his shoulder against all lighteyes based on is past. Some warrant it and others do not. But it is a journey a true hero must take if he is to be a hero. I was happy I liked Shallan so much otherwise I might have got lost in Kaladin being a little bit of a downer through some of this. He was lost in his hate at times, although warranted it was hard to journey that with him. It was nice when a few people were able to drag him out of it.

"I trust you. It's a very strange sensation." "Yeah, well, I'll try to hold myself back from going skipping across the plateau in joy." Adolin grinned. "I'd pay to see that." "Me skipping?" "You happy," Adolin said, laughing. "You've got a face like a storm! I half think you could frighten off a storm."

Kaladin really struggles with his vows and his relationship with Syl. Did I mention that I really hope somehow someway that Syl and Kaladin a destined to be together. That as their bond grows she will become more corporeal in our world and they can have a romance, which is totally the girl in me talking. I ship them so hard though. It is my dream and it is farfetched but I want it anyway.

DALINAR was my favorite character from the last book and he had a few moments in this one where I wasn't sure what to expect from him. It seemed that he might not be up to the task at hand and then he would pull something unbelievable out. I loved his pose and calm. He is everything that a leader should be, that a king should be. I always still seem to underestimate him and I am surprised by how he reacts to situations.

"What you did tonight was clever," Wit said. "You turned an attack into a promise. The wisest of men know that to render an insult powerless, you often need only to embrace it."

Sometimes he is played the fool but he recovers quickly and always moves in a positive direction no matter the cost to himself. He is truly a good man doing the best he can for his kingdom and with so much stacked against him that can't be hard.

He is the character that I worried for the most because that is who Szeth was sent to kill in WoK. Any meeting they had was intense and the conclusions to both their arcs in this book were unexpected and left my jaw on the floor.

"He fought as he wished he had all those years ago, for the chance he had missed. In that moment between storms--when the rain stilled and the winds drew in their breaths to blow--he danced with the slayer of kings, and somehow held his own."

There are so many other characters that played great roles in this. Rock, Teft, Lopen, Wit, Jasnah, Sadeas (I hate that dude), Sebarial and Palona as well so many others, I couldn't possibly name them all. There are so many reveals that will play a big part in other books and some that were shocking in this one. I was on a rollercoaster almost the entire book and so many characters had surprises in their arcs. The epilogue had me jumping out of my seat with excitement. What a fantastic way to end the story.

All I know for sure at the end of this book is The Desolation Comes and it will be an epic journey that I can't wait to participate in.

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