Vin jumped off the rock, landing on the frosted ground and scrambling to the tent. She threw open the flaps. Elend slept inside, head just barely visible as it poked out of the blankets. Mist filled the small tent, swirling, twisting—and that was odd enough. Mist didn’t usually enter tents.
And there, in the middle of the mists, was the spirit. Standing directly above Elend.
It wasn’t even really there. It was just an outline in the mists, a repeating pattern caused by chaotic movements. And yet it was real. She could feel it, and she could see it—see it as it looked up, meeting her gaze with invisible eyes.
Hateful eyes.
It raised an insubstantial arm, and Vin saw something flash. She reacted immediately, whipping out a dagger, bursting into the tent and swinging. Her blow met something tangible in the mist spirit’s hand. A metallic sound rang in the calm air, and Vin felt a powerful, numbing chill in her arm. The hairs across her entire body prickled.
And then it disappeared. Fading away, like the ringing of its somehow substantial blade. Vin blinked, then turned to look through the blowing tent flap. The mists outside were gone; day had finally won.
It didn’t seem to have many victories remaining.
“Vin?” Elend asked, yawning and stirring.
Vin calmed her breathing. The spirit had gone. The daylight meant safety, for now. Once, it was the nights that I found safe, she thought. Kelsier gave them to me.
“What’s wrong?” Elend asked. How could someone, even a nobleman, be so slow to rise, so unconcerned about the vulnerability he displayed while sleeping?
She sheathed her dagger. What can I tell him? How can I protect him from something I can barely see? She needed to think. “It was nothing,” she said quietly. “Just me…being jumpy again.”
Elend rolled over, sighing contentedly. “Is Spook doing his morning scout?”
“Yes.”
“Wake me when he gets back.”
Vin nodded, but he probably couldn’t see her. She knelt, looking at him as the sun rose behind her. She’d given herself to him—not just her body, and not just her heart. She’d abandoned her rationalizations, given away her reservations, all for him. She could no longer afford to think that she wasn’t worthy of him, no longer give herself the false comfort of believing they couldn’t ever be together.
She’d never trusted anyone this much. Not Kelsier, not Sazed, not Reen. Elend had everything. That knowledge made her tremble inside. If she lost him, she would lose herself.
I mustn’t think about that! she told herself, rising. She left the tent, quietly closing the flaps behind her. In the distance, shadows moved. Spook appeared a moment later.
“Someone’s definitely back there,” he said quietly. “Not spirits, Vin. Five men, with a camp.”
Vin frowned. “Following us?”
“They must be.”
Straff’s scouts, she thought. “We’ll let Elend decide what to do about them.”
Spook shrugged, walking over to sit on her rock. “You going to wake him?”
Vin turned back. “Let him sleep a little longer.”
Spook shrugged again. He watched as she walked over to the firepit and unwrapped the wood they’d covered the night before, then began to build a fire.
“You’ve changed, Vin,” Spook said.
She continued to work. “Everyone changes,” she said. “I’m not a thief anymore, and I have friends to support me.”
“I don’t mean that,” Spook said. “I mean recently. This last week. You’re different than you were.”
“Different how?”
“I don’t know. You don’t seem as frightened all the time.”
Vin paused. “I’ve made some decisions. About who I am, and who I will be. About what I want.”
She worked quietly for a moment, and finally got a spark to catch. “I’m tired of putting up with foolishness,” she finally said. “Other people’s foolishness, and my own. I’ve decided to act, rather than second-guess. Perhaps it’s a more immature way of looking at things. But it feels right, for now.”
“It’s not immature,” Spook said.
Vin smiled, looking up at him. Sixteen and hardly grown into his body, he was the same age that she’d been when Kelsier had recruited her. He was squinting against the light, even though the sun was low.
“Lower your tin,” Vin said. “No need to keep it on so strong.”
Spook shrugged. She could see the uncertainty in him. He wanted so badly to be useful. She knew that feeling.
“What about you, Spook?” she said, turning to gather the breakfast supplies. Broth and mealcakes again. “How have you been lately?”
He shrugged yet again.
I’d almost forgotten what it was like to try and have a conversation with a teenage boy, she thought, smiling.
“Spook…” she said, just testing out the name. “What do you think of that nickname, anyway? I remember when everyone called you by your real name.” Lestibournes—Vin had tried to spell it once. She’d gotten about five letters in.
“Kelsier gave me my name,” Spook said, as if that were reason enough to keep it. And perhaps it was. Vin saw the look in Spook’s eyes when he mentioned Kelsier; Clubs might be Spook’s uncle, but Kelsier had been the one he looked up to.
Of course, they all had looked up to Kelsier.
“I wish I were powerful, Vin,” Spook said quietly, arms folded on his knees as he sat on the rock. “Like you.”
“You have your own skills.”
“Tin?” Spook asked. “Almost worthless. If I were Mistborn, I could do great things. Be someone important.”
“Being important isn’t all that wonderful, Spook,” Vin said, listening to the thumpings in her head. “Most of the time, it’s just annoying.”
Spook shook his head. “If I were Mistborn, I could save people—help people, who need it. I could stop people from dying. But…I’m just Spook. Weak. A coward.”
Vin looked at him, frowning, but his head was bowed, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes.
What was that about? she wondered.
Sazed used a bit of strength to help him take the steps three at a time. He burst out of the stairwell just behind Tindwyl, the two of them joining the remaining members of the crew on the wall top. The drums still sounded; each had a different rhythm as it sounded over the city. The mixing beats echoed chaotically from buildings and alleyways.
The northern horizon seemed bare without Straff’s army. If only that same emptiness had extended to the northeast, where the koloss camp seemed in turmoil.
“Can anyone make out what’s going on?” Breeze asked.
Ham shook his head. “Too far.”
“One of my scouts is a Tineye,” Clubs said, hobbling over. “He raised the alarm. Said the koloss were fighting.”
“My good man,” Breeze said, “aren’t the foul creatures always fighting?”
“More than usual,” Clubs said. “Massive brawl.”
Sazed felt a swift glimmer of hope. “They’re fighting?” he said. “Perhaps they will kill each other!”
Clubs eyed him with one of those looks. “Read one of your books, Terrisman. What do they say about koloss emotions?”
“They only have two,” Sazed said. “Boredom and rage. But—”
“This is how they always begin a battle,” Tindwyl said quietly. “They start to fight among themselves, enraging more and more of their members, and then…”
She trailed off, and Sazed saw it. The dark smudge to the east growing lighter. Dispersing. Resolving into individual members.
Charging the city.
“Bloody hell,” Clubs swore, then quickly began to hobble down the steps. “Messengers away!” he bellowed. “Archers to the wall! Secure the river grates! Battalions, form positions! Get ready to fight! Do you want those things breaking in here and getting at your children!”
Chaos followed. Men began to dash in all directions. Soldiers scrambled up the stairwells, clogging
the way down, keeping the crew from moving.
It’s happening, Sazed thought numbly.
“Once the stairwells are open,” Dockson said quietly, “I want each of you to go to your battalion. Tindwyl, you have Tin Gate, in the north by Keep Venture. I might need your advice, but for now, stay with those boys. They’ll listen to you—they respect Terrismen. Breeze, you have one of your Soothers in each of battalions four through twelve?”
Breeze nodded. “They aren’t much, though….”
“Just have them keep those boys fighting!” Dockson said. “Don’t let our men break!”
“A thousand men are far too many for one Soother to handle, my friend,” Breeze said.
“Have them do the best they can,” Dockson said. “You and Ham take Pewter Gate and Zinc Gate—looks like the koloss are going to hit here first. Clubs should bring in reinforcements.”
The two men nodded; then Dockson looked at Sazed. “You know where to go?”
“Yes…yes, I think so,” Sazed said, gripping the wall. In the air, flakes of ash began to fall from the sky.
“Go, then!” Dockson said as one final squad of archers made its way out of the stairwell.
“My lord Venture!”
Straff turned. With some stimulants, he was able to remain strong enough to stay atop his saddle—though he wouldn’t have dared to fight. Of course, he wouldn’t have fought anyway. That wasn’t his way. One brought armies to do such things.
He turned his animal as the messenger approached. The man puffed, putting hands on knees as he stopped beside Straff’s mount, bits of ash swirling on the ground at his feet.
“My lord,” the man said. “The koloss army has attacked Luthadel!”
Just as you said, Zane, Straff thought in wonder.
“The koloss, attacking?” Lord Janarle asked, moving his horse up beside Straff’s. The handsome lord frowned, then eyed Straff. “You expected this, my lord?”
“Of course,” Straff said, smiling.
Janarle looked impressed.
“Pass an order to the men, Janarle,” Straff said. “I want this column turned back toward Luthadel.”
“We can be there in an hour, my lord!” Janarle said.
“No,” Straff said. “Let’s take our time. We wouldn’t want to overwork our troops, would we?”
Janarle smiled. “Of course not, my lord.”
Arrows seemed to have little effect on the koloss.
Sazed stood, transfixed and appalled, atop his gate’s watchtower. He wasn’t officially in charge of the men, so he didn’t have any orders to give. He simply stood with the scouts and messengers, waiting to see if he was needed or not.
That left him plenty of time to watch the horror unfolding. The koloss weren’t charging his section of the wall yet, thankfully, and his men stood watching tensely as the creatures barreled toward Tin Gate and Pewter Gate in the distance.
Even far away—the tower letting him see over a section of the city to where Tin Gate lay—Sazed could see the koloss running straight through hailstorms of arrows. Some of the smaller ones appeared to fall dead or wounded, but most just continued to charge. Men murmured on the tower near him.
We aren’t ready for this, Sazed thought. Even with months to plan and anticipate, we aren’t ready.
This is what we get, being ruled over by a god for a thousand years. A thousand years of peace—tyrannical peace, but peace nonetheless. We don’t have generals, we have men who know how to order a bath drawn. We don’t have tacticians, we have bureaucrats. We don’t have warriors, we have boys with sticks.
Even as he watched the oncoming doom, his scholar’s mind was analytical. Tapping sight, he could see that many of the distant creatures—especially the larger ones—carried small uprooted trees. They were ready, in their own way, to break into the city. The trees wouldn’t be as effective as real battering rams—but then, the city gates weren’t built to withstand a real battering in the first place.
Those koloss are smarter than we give them credit for, he thought. They can recognize the abstract value of coins, even if they don’t have an economy. They can see that they’ll need tools to break down our doors, even if they don’t know how to make those tools.
The first koloss wave reached the wall. Men began to toss down rocks and other items. Sazed’s own section had similar piles, one just next to the gate arch, beside which he stood. But arrows had almost no effect; what good would a few rocks do? Koloss clumped around the base of the wall, like the water of a dammed-up river. Distant thumps sounded as the creatures began to beat against the gates.
“Battalion sixteen!” a messenger called from below, riding up to Sazed’s gate. “Lord Culee!”
“Here!” a man called from the wall top beside Sazed’s tower.
“Pewter Gate needs reinforcements immediately! Lord Penrod commands you to bring six companies and follow me!”
Lord Culee began to give the orders. Six companies… Sazed thought. Six hundred of our thousand. Clubs’s words from earlier returned to him: Twenty thousand men might seem like a lot, until one saw how thinly they had to be stretched.
The six companies marched away, leaving the courtyard before Sazed’s gate disturbingly empty. The four hundred remaining men—three hundred in the courtyard, one hundred on the wall—shuffled quietly.
Sazed closed his eyes and tapped his hearing tinmind. He could hear…wood beating on wood. Screams. Human screams. He released the tinmind quickly, then tapped eyesight again, leaning out and looking toward the section of the wall where the battle was being fought. The koloss were throwing back the fallen rocks—and they were far more accurate than the defenders. Sazed jumped as he saw a young soldier’s face crushed, his body thrown back off the wall top by the rock’s force. Sazed released his tinmind, breathing quickly.
“Be firm, men!” called one of the soldiers on the wall. He was barely a youth—a nobleman, but he couldn’t be more than sixteen. Of course, a lot of the men in the army were that age.
“Stand firm…” the young commander repeated. His voice sounded uncertain, and it trailed off as he noticed something in the distance. Sazed turned, following the man’s gaze.
The koloss had gotten tired of standing around, piling up at a single gate. They were moving to surround the city, large groups of them breaking up, fording the River Channerel toward other gates.
Gates like Sazed’s.
Vin landed directly in the middle of the camp. She tossed a handful of pewter dust into the firepit, then Pushed, blowing coals, soot, and smoke across a pair of surprised guards, who had been fixing breakfast. She reached out and Pulled out the stakes of the three small tents.
All three collapsed. One was unoccupied, but cries came from the other two. The canvas outlined struggling, confused figures—one inside the larger tent, two inside the smaller one.
The guards scrambled back, raising their arms to protect their eyes from the soot and sparks, their hands reaching for swords. Vin raised a fist toward them—and, as they blinked their eyes clear, she let a single coin drop to the ground.
The guards froze, then took their hands off their swords. Vin eyed the tents. The person in charge would be inside the larger one—and he was the man she would need to deal with. Probably one of Straff’s captains, though the guards didn’t wear Venture heraldry. Perhaps—
Jastes Lekal poked his head out of his tent, cursing as he extricated himself from the canvas. He’d changed much in the two years since Vin had last seen him. However, there had been hints of what the man would become. His thin figure had become spindly; his balding head had fulfilled its promise. Yet, how had his face come to look so haggard…so old? He was Elend’s age.
“Jastes,” Elend said, stepping out of his hiding place in the forest. He walked into the clearing, Spook at his side. “Why are you here?”
Jastes managed to stand as his other two soldiers cut their way out of their tent. He waved them down. “El,” he said. “I…didn’t know where el
se to go. My scouts said that you were fleeing, and it seemed like a good idea. Wherever you’re going, I want to go with you. We can hide there, maybe. We can—”
“Jastes!” Elend snapped, striding forward to stand beside Vin. “Where are your koloss? Did you send them away?”
“I tried,” Jastes said, looking down. “They wouldn’t go—not once they’d seen Luthadel. And then…”
“What?” Elend demanded.
“A fire,” Jastes said. “In our…supply carts.”
Vin frowned.
“Your supply carts?” Elend said. “The carts where you carried your wooden coins?”
“Yes.”
“Lord Ruler, man!” Elend said stepping forward. “And you just left them there, without leadership, outside our home?”
“They would have killed me, El!” Jastes said. “They were beginning to fight so much, to demand more coins, to demand we attack the city. If I’d stayed, they’d have slaughtered me! They’re beasts—beasts that only barely have the shape of man.”
“And you left,” Elend said. “You abandoned Luthadel to them.”
“You abandoned it, too,” Jastes said. He walked forward, hands pleading as he approached Elend. “Look, El. I know I was wrong. I thought I could control them. I didn’t mean for this to happen!”
Elend fell silent, and Vin could see a hardness growing in his eyes. Not a dangerous hardness, like Kelsier. More of a…regal bearing. The sense that he was more than he wanted to be. He stood straight, looking down at the man pleading before him.
“You raised an army of violent monsters and led them in a tyrannical assault, Jastes,” Elend said. “You caused the slaughter of innocent villages. Then, you abandoned that army without leadership or control outside the most populated city in the whole of the Final Empire.”
“Forgive me,” Jastes said.
Elend looked the man in the eyes. “I forgive you,” he said quietly. Then, in one fluid stroke, he drew his sword and sheared Jastes’s head from his shoulders. “But my kingdom cannot.”
Vin stared, dumbfounded, as the corpse fell to the ground. Jastes’s soldiers cried out, drawing their weapons. Elend turned, his face solemn, and raised the point of his bloodied sword toward them. “You think this execution was performed in error?”
The Mistborn Trilogy Page 138