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The Mistborn Trilogy

Page 147

by Brandon Sanderson


  She just shook her head. She knew the truth, now. The Well was in the city. With how strong the pulsings were growing, she might have assumed that their direction would be harder to discern. But that wasn’t the way it was at all. Now that they were loud and full, she found it easier.

  Elend glanced back at the others, and she could sense his concern. Up ahead, Kredik Shaw loomed in the night. Spires, like massive spikes, jutted from the ground in an off-balance pattern, reaching accusingly toward the stars above.

  “Vin,” Elend said. “The mists are acting…strangely.”

  “I know,” she said. “They’re guiding me.”

  “No, actually,” Elend said. “They kind of look like they’re pulling away from you.”

  Vin shook her head. This felt right. How could she explain? Together, they entered the remnants of the Lord Ruler’s palace.

  The Well was here all along, Vin thought, amused. She could feel the pulses vibrating through the building. Why hadn’t she noticed it before?

  The pulses were still too weak, then, she realized. The Well wasn’t full yet. Now it is. And it called to her.

  She followed the same path as before. The path she’d followed with Kelsier, breaking into Kredik Shaw on a doomful night when she had nearly died. The path she’d followed on her own, the night she had come to kill the Lord Ruler. The tight stone corridors opened into the room shaped like an upside-down bowl. Elend’s lantern glistened against the fine stonework and murals, mostly in black and gray. The stone shack stood in the center of the room, abandoned, enclosed.

  “I think we’re finally going to find your atium, Elend,” Vin said, smiling.

  “What?” Elend said, his voice echoing in the chamber. “Vin, we searched here. We tried everything.”

  “Not enough, apparently,” Vin said, eyeing the small building-within-a-building, but not moving toward it.

  This is where I’d put it, she thought. It makes sense. The Lord Ruler would have wanted to keep the Well close so that when the power returned, he’d be able to take it.

  But I killed him before that could happen.

  The booming came from below. They’d torn up sections of the floor, but had stopped when they’d hit solid rock. There had to be a way down. She walked over, searching through the building-within-a-building, but found nothing. She left, passing her confused friends, frustrated.

  Then she tried burning her metals. As always, the blue lines shot up around her, pointing to sources of metal. Elend was wearing several, as was Spook, though Ham was clean. Some of the stonework bore metal inlays, and lines pointed to those.

  Everything was as expected. There was nothing…

  Vin frowned, stepping to the side. One of the inlays bore a particularly thick line. Too thick, in fact. She frowned, inspecting the line as it—like the others—pointed from her chest directly at the stone wall. This one seemed to be pointing beyond the wall.

  What?

  She Pulled on it. Nothing happened. So, she Pulled harder, grunting as she was yanked toward the wall. She released the line, glancing about. There were inlays on the floor. Deep ones. Curious, she anchored herself by Pulling on these, then Pulled on the wall again. She thought she felt something budge.

  She burned duralumin and Pulled as hard as she could. The explosion of power nearly ripped her apart, but her anchor held, and duralumin-fueled pewter kept her alive. And a section of the wall slid open, stone grinding against stone in the quiet room. Vin gasped, letting go as her metals ran out.

  “Lord Ruler!” Spook said. Ham was quicker, however, moving with the speed of pewter and peeking into the opening. Elend stayed at her side, grabbing her arm as she nearly fell.

  “I’m fine,” Vin said, downing a vial and restoring her metals. The power of the Well thumped around her. It almost seemed to shake the room.

  “There are stairs in here,” Ham said, poking his head back out.

  Vin steadied herself and nodded to Elend, and the two of them followed Ham and Spook through the false section of the wall.

  But, I must continue with the sparsest of detail, Kwaan’s account read.

  Space is limited. The other Worldbringers must have thought themselves humble when they came to me, admitting that they had been wrong about Alendi. Even then, I was beginning to doubt my original declaration. But, I was prideful.

  In the end, my pride may have doomed us all. I had never received much attention from my brethren; they thought that my work and my interests were unsuitable to a Worldbringer. The couldn’t see how my studies, which focused on nature instead of religion, benefited the people of the fourteen lands.

  As the one who found Alendi, however, I became someone important. Foremost among the Worldbringers. There was a place for me in the lore of the Anticipation—I thought myself the Holy First Witness, the prophet foretold to discover the Hero of Ages. Renouncing Alendi then would have been to renounce my new position, my acceptance, by the others.

  And so I did not. But I do so now.

  Let it be known that I, Kwaan, Worldbringer of Terris, am a fraud. Alendi was never the Hero of Ages. At best, I have amplified his virtues, creating a hero where there was none. At worst, I fear that I have corrupted all we believe.

  Sazed sat at his table, reading from his book.

  Something is not right here, he thought. He traced back a few lines, looking at the words “Holy First Witness” again. Why did that line keep bothering him?

  He sat back, sighing. Even if the prophecies did speak about the future, they wouldn’t be things to follow or use as guideposts. Tindwyl was right on that count. His own study had proven them to be unreliable and shadowed.

  So what was the problem?

  It just doesn’t make sense.

  But, then again, sometimes religion didn’t make literal sense. Was that the reason, or was that his own bias? His growing frustration with the teachings he had memorized and taught, but which had betrayed him in the end?

  It came down to the scrap of paper on his desk. The torn one. Alendi must not be allowed to reach the Well of Ascension….

  Someone was standing next to his desk.

  Sazed gasped, stumbling back, nearly tripping over his chair. It wasn’t actually a person. It was a shadow—formed, it seemed, from streams of mist. They were very faint, still trailing through the window that Vin had opened, but they made a person. Its head seemed turned toward the table, toward the book. Or…perhaps the scrap of paper.

  Sazed felt like running, like scrambling away in fear, but his scholar’s mind dredged something up to fight his terror. Alendi, he thought. The one everyone thought was the Hero of Ages. He said he saw a thing made of mist following him.

  Vin claimed to have seen it as well.

  “What…do you want?” he asked, trying to remain calm.

  The spirit didn’t move.

  Could it be…her? he wondered with shock. Many religions claimed that the dead continued to walk the world, just beyond the view of mortals. But this thing was too short to be Tindwyl. Sazed was sure that he would have recognized her, even in such an amorphous form.

  Sazed tried to gauge where it was looking. He reached out a hesitant hand, picking up the scrap of paper.

  The spirit raised an arm, pointing toward the center of the city. Sazed frowned.

  “I don’t understand,” he said.

  The spirit pointed more insistently.

  “Write down for me what you want me to do.”

  It just pointed.

  Sazed stood for a long moment in the room with only one candle, then glanced at the open book. The wind flipped its pages, showing his handwriting, then Tindwyl’s, then his again.

  Alendi must not be allowed to reach the Well of Ascension. He must not be allowed to take the power for himself.

  Perhaps…perhaps Kwaan knew something that nobody else had. Could the power corrupt even the best of people? Could that be why he turned against Alendi, trying to stop him?

  The mist spirit p
ointed again.

  If the spirit tore free that sentence, perhaps it was trying to tell me something. But…Vin wouldn’t take the power for herself. She wouldn’t destroy, as the Lord Ruler did, would she?

  And if she didn’t have a choice?

  Outside, someone screamed. The yell was of pure terror, and it was soon joined by others. A horrible, echoing set of sounds in a dark night.

  There wasn’t time to think. Sazed grabbed the candle, spilling wax on the table in his haste, and left the room.

  The winding set of stone stairs led downward for quite some time. Vin walked down them, Elend at her side, the thumping sounding loudly in her ears. At the bottom, the stairwell opened into…

  A vast chamber. Elend held his lantern high, looking down into a huge stone cavern. Spook was already halfway down the stone steps leading to the floor. Ham was following.

  “Lord Ruler…” Elend whispered, standing at Vin’s side. “We’d have never found this without tearing down the entire building!”

  “That was probably the idea,” Vin said. “Kredik Shaw isn’t simply a palace, but a capstone. Built to hide something. This. Above, those inlays on the walls hid the cracks of the doorway, and the metal in them obscured the opening mechanism from Allomantic eyes. If I hadn’t had a hint…”

  “Hint?” Elend asked, turning to her.

  Vin shook her head, nodding to the steps. The two began down them. Below, she heard Spook’s voice ring.

  “There’s food down here!” he yelled. “Cans and cans of it!”

  Indeed, they found rank upon rank of shelves sitting on the cavern floor, meticulously packed as if set aside in preparation for something important. Vin and Elend reached the cavern floor as Ham chased after Spook, calling for him to slow down. Elend made as if to follow, but Vin grabbed his arm. She was burning iron.

  “Strong source of metal that way,” she said, growing eager.

  Elend nodded, and they rushed through the cavern, passing shelf after shelf. The Lord Ruler must have prepared these, she thought. But for what purpose?

  She didn’t care at the moment. She didn’t really care about the atium either, but Elend’s eagerness to find it was too much to ignore. They rushed up to the end of the cavern, where they found the source of the metal line.

  A large metal plaque hung on the wall, like the one Sazed had described finding in the Conventical of Seran. Elend was clearly disappointed when they saw it. Vin, however, stepped forward, looking through tin-enhanced eyes to see what it contained.

  “A map?” Elend asked. “That’s the Final Empire.”

  Indeed, a map of the empire was carved into the metal. Luthadel was marked at the center. A small circle marked another city nearby.

  “Why is Statlin City circled?” Elend asked, frowning.

  Vin shook her head. “This isn’t what we came for,” she said. “There.” A tunnel split off from the main cavern. “Come on.”

  Sazed ran through the streets, not even certain what he was doing. He followed the mist spirit, which was difficult to trace in the night, as his candle had long since puffed out.

  People screamed. Their panicked sounds gave him chills, and he itched to go and see what the problem was. Yet the mist spirit was demanding; it paused to catch his attention if it lost him. It could simply be leading him to his death. And yet…he felt a trust for it that he could not explain.

  Allomancy? he thought. Pulling on my emotions?

  Before he could consider that further, he stumbled across the first body. It was a skaa man in simple clothing, skin stained with ash. His face was twisted in a grimace of pain, and the ash on the ground was smeared from his thrashings.

  Sazed gasped as he pulled to a halt. He knelt, studying the body by the dim light of an open window nearby. This man had not died easily.

  It’s…like the killings I was studying, he thought. Months ago, in the village to the south. The man there said that the mists had killed his friend. Caused him to fall to the ground and thrash about.

  The spirit appeared in front of Sazed, its posture insistent. Sazed looked up, frowning. “You did this?” he whispered.

  The thing shook its head violently, pointing. Kredik Shaw was just ahead. It was the direction Vin and Elend had gone earlier.

  Sazed stood. Vin said she thought the Well was still in the city, he thought. The Deepness has come upon us, as its tendrils have been doing in the far reaches of the empire for some time. Killing.

  Something greater than we comprehend is going on.

  He still couldn’t believe that Vin going to the Well would be dangerous. She had read; she knew Rashek’s story. She wouldn’t take the power for herself. He was confident. But not completely certain. In fact, he was no longer certain what they should do with the Well.

  I have to get to her. Stop her, talk to her, prepare her. We can’t rush into something like this. If, indeed, they were going to take the power at the Well, they needed to think about it first and decide what the best course was.

  The mist spirit continued to point. Sazed stood and ran forward, ignoring the horror of the screams in the night. He approached the doors of the massive palace structure with its spires and spikes, then dashed inside.

  The mist spirit remained behind, in the mists that had birthed it. Sazed lit his candle again with a flint, and waited. The mist spirit did not move forward. Still feeling an urgency, Sazed left it behind, continuing into the depths of the Lord Ruler’s former home. The stone walls were cold and dark, his candle a wan light.

  The Well couldn’t be here, he thought. It’s supposed to be in the mountains.

  Yet, so much about that time was vague. He was beginning to doubt that he’d ever understood the things he’d studied.

  He quickened his step, shading his candle with his hand, knowing where he needed to go. He’d visited the building-within-a-building, the place where the Lord Ruler had once spent his time. Sazed had studied the place after the empire’s fall, chronicling and cataloguing. He stepped into the outer room, and was halfway across it before he noticed the unfamiliar opening in the wall.

  A figure stood in doorway, head bowed. Sazed’s candlelight reflected the polished marble walls, the silvery inlayed murals, and the spikes in the man’s eyes.

  “Marsh?” Sazed asked, shocked. “Where have you been?”

  “What are you doing, Sazed?” Marsh whispered.

  “I’m going to Vin,” he said, confused. “She has found the Well, Marsh. We have to get to her, stop her from doing anything with it until we’re sure what it does.”

  Marsh remained silent for a short time. “You should not have come here, Terrisman,” he finally said, head still bowed.

  “Marsh? What is going on?” Sazed took a step forward, feeling urgent.

  “I wish I knew. I wish…I wish I understood.”

  “Understood what?” Sazed asked, voice echoing in the domed room.

  Marsh stood silently for a moment. Then he looked up, focusing his sightless spikeheads on Sazed.

  “I wish I understood why I have to kill you,” he said, then lifted a hand. An Allomantic Push slammed into the metal bracers on Sazed’s arms, throwing him backward, crashing him into the hard stone wall.

  “I’m sorry,” Marsh whispered.

  58

  Alendi must not reach the Well of Ascension….

  “Lord ruler!” Elend whispered, pausing at the edge of the second cavern.

  Vin joined him. They had walked in the passage for some time, leaving the storage cavern far behind, walking through a natural stone tunnel. It had ended here, at a second, slightly smaller cavern that was clogged with a thick, dark smoke. It didn’t seep out of the cavern, as it should have, but billowed and churned upon itself.

  Vin stepped forward. The smoke didn’t choke her, as she expected. There was something oddly welcoming about it. “Come on,” she said, walking through it across the cavern floor. “I see light up ahead.”

  Elend joined her nervously.
>
  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  Sazed slammed into the wall. He was no Allomancer; he had no pewter to strengthen his body. As he collapsed to the ground, he felt a sharp pain in his side, and knew he had cracked a rib. Or worse.

  Marsh strode forward, faintly illuminated by Sazed’s candle, which burned fitfully where Sazed had dropped it.

  “Why did you come?” Marsh whispered as Sazed struggled to his knees. “Everything was going so well.” He watched with iron eyes as Sazed slowly crawled away. Then Marsh Pushed again, throwing Sazed to the side.

  Sazed skidded across the beautiful white floor, crashing into another wall. His arm snapped, cracking, and his vision shuddered.

  Through his pain, he saw Marsh stoop down and pick something up. A small pouch. It had fallen from Sazed’s sash. It was filled with bits of metal; Marsh obviously thought it was a coin pouch.

  “I’m sorry,” Marsh said again, then raised a hand and Pushed the bag at Sazed.

  The pouch shot across the room and hit Sazed, ripping, the bits of metal inside tearing into Sazed’s flesh. He didn’t have to look down to know how badly he was injured. Oddly, he could no longer feel his pain—but he could feel the blood, warm, on his stomach and legs.

  I’m…sorry, too, Sazed thought as the room grew dark, and he fell to his knees. I’ve failed…though I know not at what. I can’t even answer Marsh’s question. I don’t know why I came here.

  He felt himself dying. It was an odd experience. His mind was resigned, yet confused, yet frustrated, yet slowly…having…trouble…

  Those weren’t coins, a voice seemed to whisper.

  The thought rattled in his dying mind.

  The bag Marsh shot at you. Those weren’t coins. They were rings, Sazed. Eight of them. You took out two—eyesight and hearing. You left the other ones where they were.

  In the pouch, tucked into your sash.

  Sazed collapsed, death coming upon him like a cold shadow. And yet, the thought rang true. Ten rings, embedded into his flesh. Touching him. Weight. Speed of body. Sight. Hearing. Touch. Scent. Strength. Speed of mind. Wakefulness.

 

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