Well of Ascension

by Brandon Sanderson

  Clubs shook his head. "Kelsier. Gave us a city, made us think we were responsible for protecting it."

  "But we aren't that kind of people," Breeze said. "We're thieves and scammers. We shouldn't care. I mean ... I've gotten so bad that I Soothe scullery maids so that they'll have a happier time at work! I might as well start dressing in pink and carrying around flowers. I could probably make quite a bundle at weddings."

  Clubs snorted. Then he raised his cup. 'To the Survivor," he said. "May he be damned for knowing us better than we knew ourselves."

  Breeze raised his own cup. "Damn him," he agreed qui-edy.

  The two fell silent. Talking to Clubs tended to turn into ... well, not talking. However, Breeze felt a simple contentment. Soothing was wonderful; it made him who he was. But it was also work. Even birds couldn't fly all the time.

  "There you are."

  Breeze snapped his eyes open. Allrianne stood at the entrance to the room, just at the edge of the table. She wore light blue; where had she gotten so many dresses? Her makeup was, of course, immaculate-and there was a bow in her hair. That long blond hair-common in the West but almost unheard of in the Central Dominance-and that perky, inviting, figure.

  Desire immediately blossomed inside of him. No! Breeze thought. She's half your age. You're a dirty old man. Dirty! "Allrianne," he said uncomfortably, "shouldn't you be in bed or something?"

  She rolled her eyes, shooing his legs out of the way so she could sit on the bench beside him. "It's only nine o'clock. Breeze. I'm eighteen, not ten."

  You might as well be, he thought, looking away from her, trying to focus on something else. He knew that he should be stronger, shouldn't let the girl get near him, but he did nothing as she slid up to him and took a drink from his cup.

  He sighed, putting his arm around her shoulders. Clubs just shook his head, the hint of a smile on his lips.

  "Well," Vin said quietly, "that answers one question."

  "Mistress?" OreSeur said, sitting across the table from her in the dark room. With her Allomancer's ears, she could hear exacUy what was going on in the next boothlike room over.

  "Allrianne is an Allomancer," Vin said.

  "Really?"

  Vin nodded. "She's been Rioting Breeze's emotions ever since she arrived, making him more attracted to her."

  "One would think that he'd notice," OreSeur said.

  "You'd think," Vin said. She probably shouldn't feel as amused as she did. The girl could be a Mistborn-though the idea of that puff flying through the mists seemed ridiculous.

  Which is probably exactly how she wants me to think, Vin thought. I have to remember Kliss and Shan-neither one of them turned out to be the person I thought they were.

  "Breeze probably just doesn't think his emotions are unnatural," Vin said. "He must be attracted to her already."

  OreSeur closed his mouth and cocked his head-his dog's version of a frown.

  "I know," Vin agreed. "But, at least we know he isn't the one using Allomancy to seduce her. Either way, that's irrelevant. Clubs isn't the kandra."

  "How could you possibly know that, Mistress?"

  Vin paused. Clubs always turned his copper on around Breeze; it was one of the few times he used it. However, it was difficult to tell if someone was burning copper. After all, if they turned on their metal, they hid themselves by default.

  But Vin could pierce copperclouds. She could sense All-rianne's Rioting; she could even sense a faint thumping coming from Clubs himself, copper's own Allomantic pulse, something that Vin suspected few people beyond herself and the Lord Ruler had ever heard.

  "1 just know," Vin said.

  "If you say so. Mistress," OreSeur said. "But... didn't you already decide the spy was Demoux?"

  "I wanted to check Clubs anyway," she said. "Before I did anything drastic."

  "Drastic?"

  Vin sat quietly for a moment. She didn't have much proof, but she did have her instincts-and those instincts told her Demoux was the spy. That sneaking way he'd gone out the other night... the obvious logic of choosing him ... it all fit.

  She stood. Things were getting too dangerous, too sensitive. She couldn't ignore it any longer. "Come on," she said, leaving the booth behind. "It's time to put Demoux in prison."

  "What do you mean you lost him?" Vin asked, standing outside the door to Demoux's room.

  The servant flushed. "My lady, I'm sorry. I watched him, like you told me-but he went out on patrol. Should I have followed? I mean, don't you think that would have looked suspicious?"

  Vin cursed quietly to herself. She knew that she didn't have much right to be angry, however. I should have told Ham straight off, she thought with frustration.

  "My lady, he only left a few minutes ago," the servant said.

  Vin glancedat OreSeur, then took off down the corridor. As soon as they reached a window, Vin leaped out into the dark night, OreSeur following behind her, dropping the short distance to the courtyard.

  Last time, I saw him come back in through the gates to

  the palace grounds, she thought, running through the mist. She found a couple of soldiers there, guarding.

  "Did Captain Demoux come this way?" she demanded, bursting into their ring of torchlight.

  They perked up, at first shocked, then confused.

  "Lady Heir?" one of them said. "Yes, he just went out, on patrol just a minute or two ago."

  "By himself?" Vin asked.

  They nodded.

  "Isn't that a little odd?"

  They shrugged. "He goes by himself sometimes," one said. "We don't question. He's our superior, after all." "Which way?" Vin demanded.

  One pointed, and Vin took off, OreSeur at her side. I should have watched better. I should have hired real spies to keep an eye on him. J should have-

  She froze. Up ahead, walking down a quite street in the mists, was a figure, walking into the city. Demoux.

  Vin dropped a coin and threw herself into the air, passing far over his head, landing on top of a building. He continued, oblivious. Demoux or kandra, neither would have Allomantic powers.

  Vin paused, daggers out, ready to spring. But... she still didn't have any real proof. The part of her that Kelsier had transformed, the part that had come to trust, thought of the Demoux she knew.

  Do I really believe he's the kandra ? she thought. Or do I just want him to be the kandra, so that I don't have to suspect my real friends?

  He continued to walk below, her tin-enhanced ears easily picking out his footfalls. Behind, OreSeur scrambled up onto the top of the roof, then padded over and sat down beside her.

  I can't just attack, she thought. I need to at least watch, see where he's going. Get proof. Perhaps learn something in the process.

  She waved to OreSeur, and they quiedy followed along the rooftops, trailing Demoux. Soon, Vin noticed something odd-a flicker ling him with her eyes as he wandered down an alleyway, moving toward the illumination. What...?

  Vin threw herself off the roof. It took only three bounds for her to reach the source of the light. A modest bonfire crackled in the center of a small squarof firelight illuminating the mists a few streets over, making haunted shadows of buildings.

  Vin glanced at Demoux, traie. Skaa huddled around it for warmth, looking a little frightened in the mists. Vin was surprised to see them. She hadn't seen skaa go out in the mists since the night of the Collapse.

  Demoux approached down a side street, greeting several of the others. In the firelight she could confirm for certain that it was him-or, at least, a kandra with his face.

  There were, perhaps, two hundred people in the square. Demoux moved as if to sit on the cobblestones, but someone quickly approached with a chair. A young woman brought him a mug of something steaming, which he received gratefully.

  Vin leaped to a rooftop, staying low to keep from being exposed by the firelight. More skaa arrived, mostly in groups, but some brave individuals came alone.

  A sound came from behind her, and
Vin turned as OreSeur-apparently having barely made the jump- scrambled the last few feet over the edge onto the roof. He glanced down at the street below, shook his head, then padded over to join her. She raised a finger to her lips, nodding down at the growing group of people. OreSeur cocked his head at the sight, but said nothing.

  Finally, Demoux stood, holding the still steaming cup in his hands. People gathered around, sitting on the cold cobblestones, huddled beneath blankets or cloaks.

  "We shouldn't fear the mists, my friends," Demoux said. His wasn't the voice of a strong leader or forceful battle commander-it was the voice of hardened youth, a little hesitant, but compelling nonetheless.

  'The Survivor taught us of this," he continued. "I know it's very hard to' think of the mists without remembering stories of mistwraiths or other horrors. But, the Survivor gave the mists to us. We should try and remember him, through them."

  Lord Ruler... Vin thought with shock. He's one of them-a member of the Church of the Survivor! She wavered, uncertain what to think. Was he the kandra or wasn't he? Why would the kandra meet with a group of people like this? But.. . why would Demoux himself do it?

  "I know it's hard," Demoux said below, "without the Survivor. I know you're afraid of the armies. Trust me, I know. I see them too. I know you suffer beneath this siege, I... don't know if I can even tell you not to worry. The Survivor himself knew great hardship-the death of his wife, his imprisonment in the Pits of Hathsin. But he survived. That's the point, isn't it? We have to live on, no matter how hard this all gets. We'll win, in the end. Just like he did."

  He stood with his mug in his hands, looking nothing like the skaa preachers Vin had seen. Kelsier had chosen a passionate man to found his religion-or, more precisely, to found the revolution the religion had come from. Kelsier had needed leaders who could enflame supporters, whip them up into a destructive upheaval.

  Demoux was something different. He didn't shout, but spoke calmly. Yet, people paid attention. They sat on the stones around him, looking up with hopeful-even worshipful-eyes.

  "The Lady Heir," one of them whispered. "What of her?"

  "Lady Vin bears a great responsibility," Demoux said. "You can see the weight bowing her down, and how frustrated she is with the problems in the city. She is a straightforward woman, and I don't think she likes the Assembly's politicking."

  "But, she'll protect us, right?" one asked.

  "Yes," Demoux said. "Yes, I believe she will. Sometimes, I think that she's even more powerful than the Survivor was. You know that he only had two years to practice as a Mist-bom? She's barely had that much time herself."

  Vin turned away. It comes back to that, she thought. They sound rational until they talk about me, and then ...

  "She'll bring us peace, someday," Demoux said. "The heir will bring back the sun, stop the ash from falling. But we have to survive until then. And we have to fight. The Survivor's entire work was to see the Lord Ruler dead and make us free. What gratitude do we show if we run now that armies have come?

  "Go and tell your Assemblymen that you don't want Lord Cett, or even Lord Penrod, to be your king. The vote happens in one day, and we need to make certain the right man is made king. The Survivor chose Elend Venture, and that is whom we must follow."

  That 's new, Vin thought.

  "Lord Elend is weak," one of the people said. "He won't defend us."

  "Lady Vin loves him," Demoux said. "She wouldn't love a weak man. Penrod and Cett treat you like the skaa used to be treated, and that's why you think they're strong. But that's not strength-it's oppression. We have to be better than that! We have to trust the Survivor's judgment!"

  Vin relaxed against the lip of the roof, tension melting a bit. If Demoux really was the spy, then he wasn't going to give her any evidence this night. So, she put her knives away, then rested with her arms folded on the rooftop's edge. The fire crackled in the cool winter evening, sending billows of smoke to mix with the mists, and Demoux continued to speak in his quiet, reassuring voice, teaching the people about Kelsier.

  It's not even really a religion, Vin thought as she listened. The theology is so simple-not at all like the complex beliefs that Sazed speaks about.

  Demoux taught basic concepts. He held up Kelsier as a model, talking about survival, and about enduring hardships. Vin could see why the direct words would appeal to the skaa. The people really only had two choices: to struggle on, or to give up. Demoux's teachings gave them an excuse to keep living.

  The skaa didn't need rituals, prayers, or codes. Not yet. They were too inexperienced with religion in general, too frightened of it, to want such things. But, the more she listened, the more Vin understood the Church of the Survivor. It was what they needed; it took what the skaa already knew-a life filled widi hardship-and elevated it to a higher, you to preach to these people?"

  "Mistress?" OreSeur asked.

  "He had you appear, as if you were him returned from the grave." "Yes."

  "Well, what did he have you say?" OreSeur shrugged. "Very simple things, Mistress. I told them that the timemore optimistic plane.

  And the teachings were still evolving. The deification of Kelsier she had expected; even the reverence for her was understandable. But, where did Demoux get the promises that Vin would stop the ash and bring back the sun? How did he know to preach of green grasses and blue skies, describing the world as it was known only in some of the world's most obscure texts?

  He described a strange world of colors and beauty-a place foreign and difficult to conceive, but somehow wonderful all the same. Flowers and green plants were strange, alien things to these people; even Vin had trouble visualizing them, and she had heard Sazed's descriptions.

  Demoux was giving the skaa a paradise. It had to be something completely removed from normal experience, for the mundane world was not a place of hope. Not with a foodless winter approaching, not with armies threatening and the government in turmoil.

  Vin pulled back as Demoux finally ended the meeting. She lay for a moment, trying to decide how she felt. She'd been near certain about Demoux, but now her suspicions seemed unfounded. He'd gone out at night, true, but she saw now what he was doing. Plus, he'd acted so suspiciously when sneaking out. It seemed to her, as she reflected, that a kandra would know how to go about things in a much more natural way.

  It's not him, she thought. Or, if it is, he's not going to be as easy to unmask as I thought. She frowned in frustration. Finally, she just sighed, rising, and walked to the other side of the roof. OreSeur followed, and Vin glanced at him. "When Kelsier told you to take his body," she said, "what did he want for rebellion had arrived. I told them that I-Kelsier-had returned to give them hope for victory."

  I represent that thing you've never been able to kill, no matter how hard you try. They had been Kelsier's final words, spoken face-to-face with the Lord Ruler. I am hope.

  I am hope.

  Was it any wonder that tliis concept would become central to the church that sprang up around him? "Did he have you teach things like we just heard Demoux say?" Vin asked. "About the ash no longer falling, and the sun turning yellow?"

  "No, Mistress."

  "That's what I thought," Vin said as she heard rustling on the stones below. She glanced over the side of the building, and saw Demoux returning to the palace.

  Vin dropped to the alleyway floor behind him. To the man's credit, he heard her, and he spun, hand on dueling cane.

  "Peace, Captain," she said, rising.

  "Lady Vin?" he asked with surprise.

  She nodded, approaching closer so that he'd be able to see her better in the night. Fading torchlight still lit the air from behind, swirls of mist playing with shadows.

  "I didn't know you were a member of the Church of the Survivor," she said softly.

  He looked down. Though he was easily two hands taller than she, he seemed to shrink a bit before her. "I... I know it makes you uncomfortable. I'm sorry."

  "It's all right," she said. "You do
a good thing for the people. Elend will appreciate hearing of your loyalty."

  Demoux looked up. "Do you have to tell him?"

  "He needs to know what the people believe, Captain. Why would you want me to keep it quiet?"

  Demoux sighed. "I just... I don't want the crew to think I'm out here pandering to the people. Ham thinks preaching about the Survivor is silly, and Lord Breeze says the only reason to encourage the church is to make people more pliant."

  Vin regarded him in the darkness. "You really believe, don't you?"

  "Yes, my lady."

  "But you knew Kelsier," she said. "You were with us from near the beginning. You know he's no god."

  Demoux looked up, a bit of a challenge in his eye's. "He died to overthrow the Lord Ruler."

  "That doesn't make him divine."

  "He taught us how to survive, to have hope."

  "You survived before," Vin said. "People had hope before Kelsier got thrown in those pits."

  "Not like we do now," Demoux said. "Besides... he had power, my lady. I felt it."

  Vin paused. She knew the story; Kelsier had used Demoux as an example to the rest of the army in a fight with a skeptic, directing his blows with Allomancy, making Demoux seem as if he had supernatural powers.

  "Oh, I know about Allomancy now," Demoux said. "But... I felt him Pushing on my sword that day. I felt him use me, making me more than I was. I think I can still feel him, sometimes. Strengthening my arm, guiding my blade...."

  Vin frowned. "Do you remember the first time we met?"

  Demoux nodded. "Yes. You came to the caverns where we were hiding on the day when the army was destroyed. I was on guard duty. You know, my lady-even then. I knew that Kelsier would come for us. I knew that he'd come and get those of us who had been faithful and guide us back to Luthadel."

  He went to those caves because I forced him to. He wanted to get himself killed fighting an army on his own.

  'The destruction of the army was a test," Demoux said, looking up into the mists. "These armies ... the siege ... they're just tests. To see if we will survive or not."