The Mistborn Trilogy

by Brandon Sanderson

  He carried on anyway, for he was the best they had. Tindwyl had taught him that. “Very well,” he said. “I trust that you’re right about the others—I’ll do something to fix it.”

  That, after all, was his job. The title of emperor carried with it only a single duty.

  To make everything better.

  “All right,” Elend said, pointing to a map of the empire hanging on the wall of the conference tent. “We timed the arrival and disappearance of the mists each day, then Noorden and his scribes analyzed them. They’ve given us these perimeters as a guide.”

  The group leaned in, studying the map. Vin sat at the back of the tent, as was still her preference. Closer to the shadows. Closer to the exit. She’d grown more confident, true—but that didn’t make her careless. She liked to be able to keep an eye on everyone in the room, even if she did trust them.

  And she did. Except maybe Cett. The obstinate man sat at the front of the group, his quiet teenage son at his side, as always. Cett—or, King Cett, one of the monarchs who had sworn allegiance to Elend—had an unfashionable beard, an even more unfashionable mouth, and two legs that didn’t work. That hadn’t kept him from nearly conquering Luthadel over a year before.

  “Hell,” Cett said. “You expect us to be able to read that thing?”

  Elend tapped the map with his finger. It was a rough sketch of the empire, similar to the one they’d found in the cavern, only more up to date. It had several large concentric circles inscribed on it.

  “The outermost circle is the place where the mists have completely taken the land, and no longer leave at all during the daylight.” Elend moved his finger inward to another circle. “This circle passes through the village we just visited, where we found the cache. This marks four hours of daylight. Everything inside the circle gets more than four hours. Everything outside of it gets less.”

  “And the final circle?” Breeze asked. He sat with Allrianne as far away from Cett as the tent would allow. Cett still had a habit of throwing things at Breeze: insults, for the most part, and occasionally knives.

  Elend eyed the map. “Assuming the mists keep creeping toward Luthadel at the same rate, that circle represents the area that the scribes feel will get enough sunlight this summer to support crops.”

  The room fell silent.

  Hope is for the foolish, Reen’s voice seemed to whisper in the back of Vin’s mind. She shook her head. Her brother, Reen, had trained her in the ways of the street and the underground, teaching her to be mistrustful and paranoid. In doing so, he’d also taught her to survive. It had taken Kelsier to show her that it was possible to both trust and survive—and it had been a hard lesson. Even so, she still often heard Reen’s phantom voice in the back of her mind—more a memory than anything else—whispering her insecurities, bringing back the brutal things he had taught her.

  “That’s a fairly small circle, El,” Ham said, still studying the map. The large-muscled man sat with General Demoux between Cett and Breeze. Sazed sat quietly to the side. Vin glanced at him, trying to judge if their previous conversation had lifted his depression any, but she couldn’t tell.

  They were a small group: only nine, if one counted Cett’s son, Gneorndin. But, it included pretty much all that was left of Kelsier’s crew. Only Spook, doing reconnaissance in the North, was missing. Everyone was focused on the map. The final circle was, indeed, very small—not even as big as the Central Dominance, which held the imperial capital of Luthadel. What the map said, and Elend implied, was that over ninety percent of the empire wouldn’t be able to support crops this summer.

  “Even this small bubble will be gone by next winter,” Elend said.

  Vin watched the others contemplate, and realize—if they hadn’t already—the horror of what was upon them. It’s like Alendi’s logbook said, she thought. They couldn’t fight the Deepness with armies. It destroyed cities, bringing a slow, terrible death. They were helpless.

  The Deepness. That was what they’d called the mists—or, at least, that was what the surviving records called them. Perhaps the thing they fought, the primal force Vin had released, was behind the obfuscation. There was really no way of knowing for sure what had once been, for the entity had the power to change records.

  “All right, people,” Elend said, folding his arms. “We need options. Kelsier recruited you because you could do the impossible. Well, our predicament is pretty impossible.”

  “He didn’t recruit me,” Cett pointed out. “I got pulled by my balls into this little fiasco.”

  “I wish I cared enough to apologize,” Elend said, staring at them. “Come on. I know you have thoughts.”

  “Well, my dear man,” Breeze said, “the most obvious option appears to be the Well of Ascension. It seems the power there was built to fight the mists.”

  “Or to free the thing hiding in them,” Cett said.

  “That doesn’t matter,” Vin said, causing heads to turn. “There’s no power at the Well. It’s gone. Used up. If it ever returns, it will be in another thousand years, I suspect.”

  “That’s a little bit long to stretch the supplies in those storage caches,” Elend said.

  “What if we grew plants that need very little light?” Ham asked. As always, he wore simple trousers and a vest. He was a Thug, and could burn pewter—which made him resistant to heat and cold. He’d cheerfully walk around sleeveless on a day that would send most men running for shelter.

  Well, maybe not cheerfully. Ham hadn’t changed overnight, as Sazed had. Ham, however, had lost some of his joviality. He tended to sit around a lot, looks of consternation on his face, as if he were considering things very, very carefully—and not much liking the answers he came up with.

  “There are plants that don’t need light?” Allrianne asked, cocking her head.

  “Mushrooms and the like,” Ham said.

  “I doubt we could feed an entire empire on mushrooms,” Elend said. “Though it’s a good thought.”

  “There have to be other plants, too,” Ham said. “Even if the mists come all day, there will be some light that gets through. Some plants have to be able to live on that.”

  “Plants we can’t eat, my dear man,” Breeze pointed out.

  “Yes, but maybe animals can,” Ham said.

  Elend nodded thoughtfully.

  “Blasted little time left for horticulture,” Cett noted. “We should have been working on this sort of thing years ago.”

  “We didn’t know most of this until a few months ago,” Ham said.

  “True,” Elend said. “But the Lord Ruler had a thousand years to prepare. That’s why he made the storage caverns—and we still don’t know what the last one contains.”

  “I don’t like relying on the Lord Ruler, Elend,” Breeze said with a shake of his head. “He must have prepared those caches knowing that he’d be dead if anyone ever had to use them.”

  Cett nodded. “The idiot Soother has a point. If I were the Lord Ruler, I’d have stuffed those caches with poisoned food and pissed-in water. If I were dead, then everyone else ought to be as well.”

  “Fortunately, Cett,” Elend said with a raised eyebrow, “the Lord Ruler has proven more altruistic than we might have expected.”

  “Not something I ever thought I’d hear,” Ham noted.

  “He was emperor,” Elend said. “We may not have liked his rule, but I can understand him somewhat. He wasn’t spiteful—he wasn’t even evil, exactly. He just . . . got carried away. Besides, he resisted this thing that we’re fighting.”

  “This thing?” Cett asked. “The mists?”

  “No,” Elend said. “The thing that was trapped in the Well of Ascension.”

  It is called Ruin, Vin thought suddenly. It will destroy everything.

  “This is why I’ve decided we need to secure that last cache,” Elend said. “The Lord Ruler lived through this once—he knew how to prepare. Perhaps we’ll find plants that can grow without sunlight. Each of the caches so far has had repeats�
��food stores, water—but each one has held something new as well. In Vetitan, we found large stores of the first eight Allomantic metals. The thing in that last cache might be just what we need in order to survive.”

  “That’s it, then!” Cett said, smiling broadly through his beard. “We are marching on Fadrex, aren’t we?”

  Elend nodded curtly. “Yes. The main force of the army will march for the Western Dominance once we break camp here.”

  “Ha!” Cett said. “Penrod and Janarle can suck on that for a few days.”

  Vin smiled faintly. Penrod and Janarle were the two other most important kings under Elend’s imperial rule. Penrod governed Luthadel, which was why he wasn’t with them currently, and Janarle ruled the Northern Dominance—the kingdom that included House Venture’s hereditary lands.

  The largest city in the north, however, had been seized in a revolt while Janarle—with Elend’s father, Straff Venture—had been away laying siege to Luthadel. So far, Elend hadn’t been able to spare the troops necessary to take Urteau back from its dissidents, so Janarle ruled in exile, his smaller force of troops used to maintain order in the cities he did control.

  Both Janarle and Penrod had made a point of finding reasons to keep the main army from marching on Cett’s homeland.

  “Those bastards won’t be at all happy when they hear about this,” Cett said.

  Elend shook his head. “Does everything you say have to contain one vulgarity or another?”

  Cett shrugged. “What’s the point of speaking if you can’t say something interesting?”

  “Swearing isn’t interesting,” Elend said.

  “That’s your own damned opinion,” Cett said, smiling. “And, you really shouldn’t be complaining, Emperor. If you think the things I say are vulgar, you’ve been living in Luthadel far too long. Where I come from, people are embarrassed to use pretty words like ‘damn.’ ”

  Elend sighed. “Anyway, I—”

  He was cut off as the ground began to shake. Vin was on her feet in seconds, looking for danger as the others cursed and reached for stability. She threw back the tent flap, peering through the mists. Yet, the shaking subsided quickly, and it caused very little chaos in the camp, all things considered. Patrols moved about, checking for problems—officers and Allomancers under Elend’s command. Most of the soldiers, however, just remained in their tents.

  Vin turned back toward the tent’s room. A few of the chairs had fallen over, travel furniture disturbed by the earthquake. The others slowly returned to their seats. “Sure have been a lot of those lately,” Ham said. Vin met Elend’s eyes, and could see concern in them.

  We can fight armies, we can capture cities, but what of ash, mists, and earthquakes? What about the world falling apart around us?

  “Anyway,” Elend said, voice firm despite the concerns Vin knew he must feel, “Fadrex has to be our next goal. We can’t risk missing the cache, and the things it might contain.”

  Like the atium, Reen whispered in Vin’s head as she sat back down. “Atium,” she said out loud.

  Cett perked up. “You think it’ll be there?”

  “There are theories,” Elend said, eyeing Vin. “But we have no proof.”

  “It will be there,” she said. It has to be. I don’t know why, but we have to have it.

  “I hope it isn’t,” Cett said. “I marched halfway across the blasted empire to try and steal that atium—if it turns out I left it beneath my own city . . .”

  “I think we’re missing something important, El,” Ham said. “Are you talking about conquering Fadrex City?”

  The room fell still. Up until this point, Elend’s armies had been used defensively, attacking koloss garrisons or the camps of small warlords and bandits. They had bullied a few cities into joining with him, but they had never actually assaulted a city and taken it by force.

  Elend turned, looking back toward the map. Even from the side, Vin could see his eyes—the eyes of a man hardened by two years of near-perpetual war.

  “Our primary goal will be to take the city by diplomacy,” Elend said.

  “Diplomacy?” Cett said. “Fadrex is mine. That damn obligator stole it from me! There’s no need to worry your conscience about attacking him, Elend.”

  “No need?” Elend asked, turning. “Cett, those are your people—your soldiers—we’d have to kill to get into that city.”

  “People die in war,” Cett said. “Feeling bad about it doesn’t remove the blood from your hands, so why bother? Those soldiers turned against me; they deserve what they’ll get.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Ham said. “If there was no way for the soldiers to fight this usurper, then why expect them to give up their lives?”

  “Especially for a man who was, himself, a usurper,” Elend said.

  “Either way,” Ham said, “reports describe that city as being very well defended. It will be a tough stone to break, El.”

  Elend stood quietly for a moment, then eyed Cett, who still looked inordinately pleased with himself. The two seemed to share something—an understanding. Elend was a master of theory, and had probably read as much on war as anyone. Cett seemed to have a sixth sense for warfare and tactics, and had replaced Clubs as the empire’s prime military strategist.

  “Siege,” Cett said.

  Elend nodded. “If King Yomen won’t respond to diplomacy, then the only way we’ll get in that city—short of killing half our men breaking in—is by besieging it and making him desperate.”

  “Do we have time for that?” Ham asked, frowning.

  “Besides Urteau,” Elend said, “Fadrex City and the surrounding areas are the only major sections of the Inner Dominances that maintain a strong enough force to be threatening. That, plus the cache, means we can’t afford to simply leave them alone.”

  “Time is on our side, in a way,” Cett said, scratching his beard. “You don’t just attack a city like Fadrex, Ham. It has fortifications, one of the few cities besides Luthadel that could repel an army. But, since it’s outside of the Central Dominance, it’s probably already hurting for food.”

  Elend nodded. “While we have all of the supplies we found in the storage caches. If we block off the highway, then hold the canal, they’ll have to surrender the city eventually. Even if they’ve found the cache—which I doubt—we will be able to outlast them.”

  Ham frowned. “I guess. . . .”

  “Besides,” Elend added, “if things get tough, we do have about twenty thousand koloss we can draw upon.”

  Ham raised an eyebrow, though said nothing. The implication was clear. You’d turn koloss against other people?

  “There is another element to this,” Sazed said softly. “Something we have, as of yet, not discussed.” Several people turned, as if they’d forgotten he was there.

  “The mists,” Sazed said. “Fadrex City lies well beyond the mist perimeter, Emperor Venture. Will you subject your army to fifteen percent casualties before you even arrive at the city?”

  Elend fell quiet. So far, he’d managed to keep most of his soldiers out of the mists. It seemed wrong to Vin that their army had been protected from the sickness, while the villagers had been forced to go out in the mists. And yet, where they camped, there was still a significant amount of mistless daylight, and they also had enough tents to hold all of the soldiers, something they’d lacked when moving the villagers.

  Mists rarely went into buildings, even cloth ones. There had been no reason to risk killing some of the soldiers, since they’d been able to avoid it. It seemed hypocritical to Vin, but so far, it still made sense.

  Elend met Sazed’s eyes. “You make a good point,” he said. “We can’t protect the soldiers from this forever. I forced the villagers of Vetitan to immunize themselves; I suspect that I will have to make the army do the same, for the same reasons.”

  Vin sat back quietly. She often wished for the days when she’d had nothing to do with such decisions—or, better yet, when Elend hadn’t been forced to mak
e them.

  “We march for Fadrex,” Elend said again, turning from the group. He pointed at the map. “If we’re going to pull through this—and by ‘we,’ I mean all the people of the New Empire—we’re going to need to band together and concentrate our populations near the Central Dominance. It will be the only place that can grow food this summer, and we’ll need every bit of manpower we can muster to clear ash and prepare the fields. That means bringing the people of Fadrex under our protection.

  “That also means,” he said, pointing toward the northeastern section of the map, “that we’ll need to suppress the rebellion in Urteau. Not only does the city there contain a storage cache—with grain we desperately need for a second planting down in the Central Dominance—but the city’s new rulers are gathering strength and an army. Urteau is well within staging distance of Luthadel, as we discovered back when my father marched on us. I will not have a repeat of that event.”

  “We don’t have enough troops to march on both fronts at once, El,” Ham said.

  Elend nodded. “I know. In fact, I’d rather avoid marching on Urteau. That was my father’s seat—the people there had good reason to rebel against him. Demoux, report?”

  Demoux stood. “We had a steel-inscribed message from Spook while Your Majesty was away,” he said. “The lad says that the faction controlling Urteau is made up of skaa rebels.”

  “That sounds promising,” Breeze noted. “Our kind of people.”

  “They’re . . . quite harsh with noblemen, Lord Breeze,” Demoux said. “And they include anyone with noble parents in that group.”

  “A little extreme, I’d think,” Ham said.

  “A lot of people thought Kelsier was extreme too,” Breeze said. “I’m certain we can talk reason into these rebels.”

  “Good,” Elend said, “because I’m counting on you and Sazed to bring Urteau under our control without the use of force. There are only five of these caches, and we can’t afford to lose one. Who knows what we’ll eventually discover in Fadrex—it might require us to return to the other caches to find something we missed.” He turned, looking at Breeze, then Sazed.