The Mistborn Trilogy

by Brandon Sanderson

  The guards paused. “No, my lord,” one of them finally said, looking down.

  Elend knelt and cleaned his sword on Jastes’s cloak. “Considering what he did, this was a better death than he deserved.” Elend snapped his sword back into its sheath. “But he was my friend. Bury him. Once you are through, you are welcome to travel with me to Terris, or you may go back to your homes. Choose as you wish.” With that, he walked back into the woods.

  Vin paused, watching the guards. Solemnly, they moved forward to collect the body. She nodded to Spook, then dashed out into the forest after Elend. She didn’t have to go far. She found him sitting on a rock a short distance away, staring at the ground. An ashfall had begun, but most of the flakes got caught in the trees, coating their leaves like black moss.

  “Elend?” she asked.

  He looked out, staring into the forest. “I’m not sure why I did it, Vin,” he said quietly. “Why should I be the one to bring justice? I’m not even king. And yet, it had to be done. I felt it. I feel it still.”

  She laid a hand on his shoulder.

  “He’s the first man I’ve ever killed,” Elend said. “He and I had such dreams, once: We’d ally two of the most powerful imperial houses, uniting Luthadel as never before. Ours wasn’t to have been a treaty of greed, but a true political alliance intended to help make the city a better place.”

  He looked up at her. “I think I understand now, Vin, what it is like for you. In a way, we’re both knives—both tools. Not for each other, but for this kingdom. This people.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, holding him, pulling his head to her chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “It had to be done,” he said. “The saddest part is, he’s right. I abandoned them, too. I should take my own life with this sword.”

  “You left for a good reason, Elend,” Vin said. “You left to protect Luthadel, to make it so Straff wouldn’t attack.”

  “And if the koloss attack before Straff can?”

  “Maybe they won’t,” Vin said. “They don’t have a leader—maybe they’ll attack Straff’s army instead.”

  “No,” Spook’s voice said. Vin turned, seeing him approach through the forest, eyes squinting against the light.

  That boy burns way too much tin, she thought.

  “What do you mean?” Elend asked, turning.

  Spook looked down. “They won’t attack Straff’s army, El. It won’t be there anymore.”

  “What?” Vin asked.

  “I…” Spook looked away, shame showing in his face.

  I’m a coward. His words from earlier returned to her. “You knew,” Vin said. “You knew the koloss were going to attack!”

  Spook nodded.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Elend said. “You couldn’t have known that Jastes would follow us.”

  “I didn’t,” Spook said, a lump of ash falling from a tree behind him, bursting before the wind, and fluttering in a hundred different flakes to the ground. “But my uncle figured that Straff would withdraw his army and let the koloss attack the city. That’s why Sazed decided to send us away.”

  Vin felt a sudden chill.

  I’ve found the location of the Well of Ascension, Sazed had said. To the north. In the Terris Mountains….

  “Clubs told you this?” Elend was saying.

  Spook nodded.

  “And you didn’t tell me?” Elend demanded, standing.

  Oh, no….

  Spook paused, then shook his head. “You would have wanted to go back! I didn’t want to die, El! I’m sorry. I’m a coward.” He cringed, glancing at Elend’s sword, shying away.

  Elend paused, as if realizing he’d been stepping toward the boy. “I’m not going to hurt you, Spook,” he said. “I’m just ashamed of you.” Spook lowered his eyes, then sank down to the ground, sitting with his back to an aspen.

  The thumpings, getting softer….

  “Elend,” Vin whispered.

  He turned.

  “Sazed lied. The Well isn’t to the north.”

  “What?”

  “It’s at Luthadel.”

  “Vin, that’s ridiculous. We’d have found it.”

  “We didn’t,” she said firmly, standing, looking south. Focusing, she could feel the thumpings, washing across her. Pulling her.

  South.

  “The Well can’t be to the south,” Elend said. “The legends all place it north, in the Terris Mountains.”

  Vin shook her head, confused. “It’s there,” she said. “I know it is. I don’t know how, but it is there.”

  Elend looked at her, then nodded, trusting her instincts.

  Oh, Sazed, she thought. You probably had good intentions, but you may have doomed us all. If the city fell to the koloss…

  “How fast can we get back?” Elend asked.

  “That depends,” she said.

  “Go back?” Spook asked, looking up. “El, they’re all dead. They told me to tell you the truth once you got to Tathingdwen, so you wouldn’t kill yourselves climbing the mountains in the winter for nothing. But, when Clubs talked to me, it was also to say goodbye. I could see it in his eyes. He knew he’d never see me again.”

  Elend paused, and Vin could see a moment of uncertainty in his eyes. A flash of pain, of terror. She knew those emotions, because they hit her at the same time.

  Sazed, Breeze, Ham….

  Elend grabbed her arm. “You have to go, Vin,” he said. “There might be survivors…refugees. They’ll need your help.”

  She nodded, the firmness of his grip—the determination in his voice—giving her strength.

  “Spook and I will follow,” he said. “It should only take us a couple of days’ hard riding. But an Allomancer with pewter can go faster than any horse over long distances.”

  “I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered.

  “I know.”

  It was still hard. How could she run off and leave him, when she’d only just rediscovered him? Yet, she could feel the Well of Ascension even more urgently now that she was sure of its location. And if some of her friends did survive the attack…

  Vin gritted her teeth, then opened up her pouch and pulled out the last of her pewter dust. She drank it down with a mouthful of water from her flask. It scratched her throat going down. It’s not much, she thought. It won’t let me pewter-drag for long.

  “They’re all dead…” Spook mumbled again.

  Vin turned. The pulses thumped demandingly. From the south.

  I’m coming.

  “Elend,” she said. “Please do something for me. Don’t sleep during the night, when the mists are out. Travel during the night, if you can, and keep your wits about you. Watch for the mist spirit—I think it may mean you harm.”

  He frowned, but nodded.

  Vin flared pewter, then took off at a run toward the highway.

  52

  My pleas, my teachings, my objections, and even my treasons were all ineffectual. Alendi has other counselors now, ones who tell him what he wants to hear.

  Breeze did his best to pretend he was not in the middle of a war. It didn’t work very well.

  He sat on his horse at the edge of Zinc Gate’s courtyard. Soldiers shuffled and clanked, standing in ranks before the gates, waiting and watching their companions atop the wall.

  The gates thumped. Breeze cringed, but continued his Soothing. “Be strong,” he whispered. “Fear, uncertainty—I take these away. Death may come through those doors, but you can fight it. You can win. Be strong….”

  Brass flared like a bonfire within his stomach. He had long since used up his vials, and had taken to choking down handfuls of brass dust and mouthfuls of water, which he had in a steady supply thanks to Dockson’s mounted messengers.

  How long can this possibly last? he thought, wiping his brow, continuing to Soothe. Allomancy was, fortunately, very easy on the body; Allomantic power came from within the metals themselves, not from the one who burned them. Yet, Soothing was much m
ore complex than other Allomantic skills, and it demanded constant attention.

  “Fear, terror, anxiety…” he whispered. “The desire to run or give up. I take these from you….” The speaking wasn’t necessary, of course, but it had always been his way—it helped keep him focused.

  After a few more minutes of Soothing, he checked his pocket watch, then turned his horse and trotted over to the other side of the courtyard. The gates continued to boom, and Breeze wiped his brow again. He noted, with dissatisfaction, that his handkerchief was nearly too damp to do him any good. It was also beginning to snow. The wetness would make the ash stick to his clothing, and his suit would be absolutely ruined.

  The suit will be ruined by your blood, Breeze, he told himself. The time for silliness is over. This is serious. Far too serious. How did you even end up here?

  He redoubled his efforts, Soothing a new group of soldiers. He was one of the most powerful Allomancers in the Final Empire—especially when it came to emotional Allomancy. He could Soothe hundreds of men at once, assuming they were packed close enough together, and assuming that he was focusing on simple emotions. Even Kelsier hadn’t been able to manage those numbers.

  Yet, the entire crowd of soldiers was beyond even his ability, and he had to do them in sections. As he began work on the new group, he saw the ones he had left begin to wilt, their anxiety taking over.

  When those doors burst, these men are going to scatter.

  The gates boomed. Men clustered on the walls, throwing down rocks, shooting arrows, fighting with a frantic lack of discipline. Occasionally, an officer would push his way past them, yelling orders, trying to coordinate their efforts, but Breeze was too far away to tell what they were saying. He could just see the chaos of men moving, screaming, and shooting.

  And, of course, he could see the return fire. Rocks zipped into the air from below, some cracking against the ramparts. Breeze tried not to think about what was on the other side of the wall, the thousands of enraged koloss beasts. Occasionally, a soldier would drop. Blood dripped down into the courtyard from several sections of the ramparts.

  “Fear, anxiety, terror…” Breeze whispered.

  Allrianne had escaped. Vin, Elend, and Spook were safe. He had to keep focusing on those successes. Thank you, Sazed, for making us send them away, he thought.

  Hoofbeats clopped behind him. Breeze continued his Soothing, but turned to see Clubs riding up. The general rode his horse with a hunched-over slouch, eyeing the soldiers with one eye open, the other perpetually squeezed closed in a squint. “They’re doing well,” he said.

  “My dear man,” Breeze said. “They’re terrified. Even the ones beneath my Soothing watch those gates like they were some terrible void waiting to suck them in.”

  Clubs eyed Breeze. “Feeling poetic today, are we?”

  “Impending doom has that effect on me,” Breeze said as the gates shook. “Either way, I doubt the men are doing ‘well.’”

  Clubs grunted. “Men are always nervous before a fight. But, these are good lads. They’ll hold.”

  The gates shook and quivered, splinters appearing at the edges. Those hinges are straining… Breeze thought.

  “Don’t suppose you can Soothe those koloss?” Clubs asked. “Make them less ferocious?”

  Breeze shook his head. “Soothing those beasts has no effect. I’ve tried it.”

  They fell silent again, listening to the booming gates. Eventually, Breeze glanced over at Clubs, who sat, unperturbed, on his horse. “You’ve been in combat before,” Breeze said. “How often?”

  “Off and on for the better part of twenty years, when I was younger,” Clubs said. “Fighting rebellions in the distant dominances, warring against the nomads out in the barrens. The Lord Ruler was pretty good about keeping those conflicts quiet.”

  “And…how did you do?” Breeze asked. “Were you often victorious?”

  “Always,” Clubs said.

  Breeze smiled slightly.

  “Of course,” Clubs said, glancing at Breeze, “we were the ones with koloss on our side. Damn hard to kill, those beasts.”

  Great, Breeze thought.

  Vin ran.

  She’d only been on one “pewter drag” before—with Kelsier, two years ago. While burning pewter at a steady flare, one could run with incredible speed—like a sprinter in their quickest dash—without ever growing tired.

  Yet, the process did something to a body. Pewter kept her moving, but it also bottled up her natural fatigue. The juxtaposition made her mind fuzz, bringing on a trancelike state of exhausted energy. Her soul wanted so badly to rest, yet her body just kept running, and running, and running, following the canal towpath toward the south. Toward Luthadel.

  Vin was prepared for the effects of pewter dragging this time, and so she handled them far better. She fought off the trance, keeping her mind focused on her goal, not the repetitive motions of her body. However, that focus led her to discomforting thoughts.

  Why am I doing this? she wondered. Why push myself so hard? Spook said it—Luthadel has to have already fallen. There is no need for urgency.

  And yet, she ran.

  She saw images of death in her mind. Ham, Breeze, Dockson, Clubs, and dear, dear Sazed. The first real friends she had ever known. She loved Elend, and part of her blessed the others for sending him away from danger. However, the other piece of her was furious at them for sending her away. That fury guided her.

  They let me abandon them. They forced me to abandon them!

  Kelsier had spent months teaching her how to trust. His last words to her in life had been ones of accusation, and they were words she had never been able to escape. You still have a lot to learn about friendship, Vin.

  He had gone on to risk his life to get Spook and OreSeur out of danger, fighting off—and eventually killing—a Steel Inquisitor. He had done this despite Vin’s protests that the risk was pointless.

  She had been wrong.

  How dare they! she thought, feeling the tears on her cheeks as she dashed down the canal’s highwaylike towpath. Pewter gave her inhuman balance, and the speed—which would have been perilous for anyone else—felt natural to her. She didn’t trip, she didn’t stumble, but an outside observer would think her pace reckless.

  Trees whipped by. She leapt washouts and dips in the land. She ran as she had done only once before, and pushed herself even harder than she had on that day. Before, she had been running simply to keep up with Kelsier. Now she ran for those she loved.

  How dare they! she thought again. How dare they not give me the same chance that Kelsier had! How dare they refuse my protection, refuse to let me help them!

  How dare they die….

  Her pewter was running low, and she was only a few hours into her run. True, she had probably covered an entire day’s worth of walking in those few hours. Yet, somehow, she knew it wouldn’t be enough. They were already dead. She was going to be too late, just as when she’d run years before. Too late to save their army. Too late to save her friends.

  Vin continued to run. And she continued to cry.

  “How did we get here, Clubs?” Breeze asked quietly, still on the floor of the courtyard, before the booming gate. He sat on his horse, amid a muddy mixture of falling snow and ash. The simple, quiet flutterings of white and black seemed to belie the screaming men, the breaking gate, and the falling rocks.

  Clubs looked over at him, frowning. Breeze continued stare up, at the ash and snow. Black and white. Lazy.

  “We aren’t men of principle,” Breeze said quietly. “We’re thieves. Cynics. You, a man tired of doing the Lord Ruler’s bidding, a man determined to see himself get ahead for once. Me, a man of wavering morals who loves to toy with others, to make their emotions my game. How did we end up here? Standing at the head of an army, fighting an idealist’s cause? Men like us shouldn’t be leaders.”

  Clubs watched the men in the courtyard. “Guess we’re just idiots,” he finally said.

  Breeze paused,
then noticed that glimmer in Clubs’s eyes. That spark of humor, the spark that was hard to recognize unless one knew Clubs very well. It was that spark that told the truth—that showed Clubs to be a man of rare understanding.

  Breeze smiled. “I guess we are. Like we said before. It’s Kelsier’s fault. He turned us into idiots who would stand at the front of a doomed army.”

  “That bastard,” Clubs said.

  “Indeed,” Breeze said.

  Ash and snow continued to fall. Men yelled in alarm.

  And the gates burst open.

  “The eastern gate has been breached, Master Terrisman!” Dockson’s messenger said, puffing slightly as he crouched beside Sazed. They both sat beneath the wall-top battlements, listening to the koloss pound on their own gate. The one that had fallen would be Zinc Gate, the one on the easternmost side of Luthadel.

  “Zinc Gate is the most well defended,” Sazed said quietly. “They will be able to hold it, I think.”

  The messenger nodded. Ash blew along the wall top, piling in the cracks and alcoves in the stone, the black flakes adulterated by the occasional bit of bone-white snow.

  “Is there anything you wish me to report to Lord Dockson?” the messenger asked.

  Sazed paused, glancing along his wall’s defenses. He’d climbed down from the watchtower, joining the regular ranks of men. The soldiers had run out of stones, though the archers were still working. He peeked over the side of the wall and saw the koloss corpses piling up. However, he also saw the splintered front of the gate. It’s amazing they can maintain such rage for so long, he thought, ducking back. The creatures continued to howl and scream, like feral dogs.

  He sat back against the wet stone, shivering in the chill wind, his toes growing numb. He tapped his brassmind, drawing out the heat he’d stored therein, and his body suddenly flooded with a pleasant sensation of warmth.