The Mistborn Trilogy

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The Mistborn Trilogy Page 213

by Brandon Sanderson


  He fears that he’s ordered his men to their deaths, Vin thought. She moved up to him, limping slightly from where she’d hit the ground. Marsh stood watching out the window. Ruin eyed her curiously.

  “Yomen,” she said.

  Yomen turned toward her. “It’s a test,” he said. “The Inquisitors are the Lord Ruler’s most holy priests. I’ll do as commanded, and the Lord Ruler will protect my men and this city. Then you will see.”

  Vin gritted her teeth. Then, she turned and forced herself to walk up beside Marsh. She glanced out the window—and was surprised to see that Elend’s army was retreating away from Yomen’s soldiers. Yomen’s force wasn’t running with very much conviction. Obviously, they were content to let their superior enemy run away before them. The sun was finally setting.

  Marsh did not seem to find Elend’s retreat amusing. That was enough to make Vin smile—which made Marsh grab her again.

  “You think you have won?” Marsh asked, leaning down, his uneven spikeheads hanging just before Vin’s face.

  Vin reached for his sash. Just a little farther. . . .

  “You claim to have been playing with me, child,” Ruin said, stepping up next to her. “But you are the one who has been played. The koloss who serve you, they get their strength from my power. You think that I would let you control them if it weren’t for my eventual gain?”

  Vin felt a moment of chill.

  Oh, no. . . .

  Elend felt a terrible ripping sensation. It was like a part of his innards had been suddenly, and forcibly, pulled away from him. He gasped, releasing his Steelpush. He fell through the ash-filled sky, and landed unevenly on a rock shelf outside of Fadrex City.

  He gasped, breathing in and out, trembling.

  What in the hell was that? he thought, standing up, holding his thumping head.

  And then he realized it. He couldn’t feel the koloss anymore. In the distance, the massive blue creatures stopped running away. And then, to Elend’s horror, he watched them turn around.

  They began to charge his men.

  Marsh held her. “Hemalurgy is his power, Vin!” he said. “The Lord Ruler used it unwittingly! The fool! Each time he built an Inquisitor or a koloss, he made another servant for his enemy! Ruin waited patiently, knowing that when he finally broke free, he’d have an entire army waiting for him!”

  Yomen was at another window. He gasped quietly, watching. “You did deliver my men!” the obligator said. “The koloss have turned to attack their own army!”

  “They’ll come after your men next, Yomen,” Vin said, dizzily. “Then they’ll destroy your city.”

  “It is ending,” Ruin whispered. “Everything needs to fit into place. Where is the atium? It’s the last piece.”

  Marsh shook her. She finally managed to reach his sash—and slipped her fingers into it. Fingers trained by her brother, and by a lifetime on the street.

  The fingers of a thief.

  “You can’t fool me, Vin,” Ruin said. “I am God.”

  Marsh raised one hand—releasing her arm—then raised a fist as if to hit her. He moved with power, pewter obviously burning inside of him. He was an Allomancer, like all Inquisitors. Which meant he tended to keep metals on his person. Vin flipped her hand up and downed the vial of metals she’d stolen from his sash.

  Marsh froze, and Ruin fell silent.

  Vin smiled.

  Pewter flared in her stomach, restoring her to life. Marsh moved to complete his slap, but she pulled out of the way, then yanked him off balance by pulling her other arm—which he still held—to the side. He hung on, barely, but when he turned to face Vin, he found her holding her earring in one hand.

  And she duralumin-Pushed it directly into his forehead. It was a tiny bit of metal, but it threw up a drop of blood as it hit, ripping through his head and passing out the other side.

  Marsh dropped, and Vin was thrown backward by her own Push. She crashed into the wall, causing soldiers to scatter and yell, raising weapons. Yomen turned toward her, surprised.

  “Yomen!” she said. “Bring your men back! Fortify the city!” Ruin had disappeared in the chaos of her escape. Perhaps he was out overseeing the control of the koloss.

  Yomen seemed indecisive. “I . . . No. I will not lose faith. I must be strong.”

  Vin gritted her teeth, climbing to her feet. Nearly as frustrating as Elend is at times, she thought, scrambling over to Marsh’s body. She reached into his sash, pulling out the second—and final—vial he had stored there. She downed this, restoring the metals she’d lost to duralumin.

  Then, she hopped up on the windowsill. Mist puffed around her—the sun was still up, but the mists were arriving earlier and earlier. Outside, she could see Elend’s forces beleaguered by rampaging koloss on one side, Yomen’s soldiers not attacking—yet blocking retreat—on the other. She moved to jump out and join the fight, and then she noticed something.

  A small group of koloss. A thousand in number, small enough to apparently have been ignored by both Elend’s forces and Yomen’s. Even Ruin appeared to have paid them no heed, for they simply stood in the ash, partially buried, like a collection of quiet stones.

  Vin’s koloss. The ones that Elend had given her, Human at their lead. With a devious smile, she ordered them forward.

  To attack Yomen’s men.

  “I’m telling you, Yomen,” she said, hopping off of the windowsill and back into the room. “Those koloss don’t care which side the humans are on—they’ll kill anyone. The Inquisitors have gone mad, now that the Lord Ruler is dead. Didn’t you pay any attention to what this one said?”

  Yomen looked thoughtful.

  “He even admitted that the Lord Ruler was dead, Yomen,” Vin said with exasperation. “Your faith is commendable. But sometimes, you just have to know when to give up and move on!”

  One of the soldier captains yelled something, and Yomen spun back toward the window. He cursed.

  Immediately, Vin felt something. Something Pulling on her koloss. She cried out as they were yanked away from her, but the damage had been done. Yomen looked troubled. He’d seen the koloss attack his soldiers. He looked into Vin’s eyes, silent for a moment. “Retreat into the city!” he finally yelled, turning to his messengers. “And order the men to allow Venture’s soldiers refuge inside as well!”

  Vin sighed in relief. And then, something grabbed her leg. She looked down with shock as Marsh climbed to his knees. She had sliced through his brain itself, but the amazing Inquisitor healing powers seemed to be able to deal even with that.

  “Fool,” Marsh said, standing. “Even if Yomen turns against me, I can kill him, and his soldiers will follow me. He’s given them a belief in the Lord Ruler, and I hold that belief by right of inheritance.”

  Vin took a deep breath, then hit Marsh with a duralumin-Soothing. If it worked on koloss and kandra, why not Inquisitors?

  Marsh stumbled. Vin’s Push lasted a brief moment, but during it she felt something. A wall, like she’d felt the first time she’d tried to control TenSoon or the first time she’d taken control of a group of koloss.

  She Pushed, Pushed with everything she had. In a burst of power, she came close to seizing control of Marsh’s body, but not close enough. The wall within his mind was too strong, and she only had one vial’s worth of metal to use. The wall shoved her back. She cried out in frustration.

  Marsh reached out, growling, and grabbed her by the neck. She gasped, eyes widening as Marsh began to grow in size. Getting stronger, like . . .

  A Feruchemist, she realized. I’m in serious trouble.

  People in the room were yelling, but she couldn’t hear them. Marsh’s hand—now large and beefy—gripped her throat, strangling her. Only flared pewter was keeping her alive. She flashed back to the day, many years ago, when she’d been held by another Inquisitor. Standing in the Lord Ruler’s throne room.

  On that day, Marsh himself had saved her life. It seemed a twisted irony that she would struggle now, being s
trangled by him.

  Not. Yet.

  The mists began to swirl around her.

  Marsh started, though he continued to hold her.

  Vin drew upon the mists.

  It happened again. She didn’t know how, or why, but it just happened. She breathed the mists into her body, as she had on that day so long ago when she’d killed the Lord Ruler. She somehow pulled them into her and used them to fuel her body with an incredible Allomantic surge of power.

  And, with that power, she Pushed on Marsh’s emotions.

  The wall inside of him cracked, then burst. For a moment, Vin felt a sense of vertigo. She saw things through Marsh’s eyes—indeed, she felt like she understood him. His love of destruction, and his hatred of himself. And through him, she caught a brief glimpse of something. A hateful, destructive thing that hid behind a mask of civility.

  Ruin was not the same thing as the mists.

  Marsh cried out, dropping her. Her strange burst of power dissipated, but it didn’t matter, for Marsh fled out the window and Pushed himself away through the mists. Vin picked herself up, coughing.

  I did it. I drew upon the mists again. But why now? Why, after all the trying, did it happen now?

  There was no time to consider it at the moment—not with the koloss attacking. She turned to the baffled Yomen. “Continue to retreat into the city!” she said. “I’m going out to help.”

  Elend fought desperately, cutting down koloss after koloss. It was difficult, dangerous work, even for him. These koloss couldn’t be controlled—no matter how he Pushed or Pulled on their emotions, he couldn’t bring even one of them under his power.

  That only left fighting. And, his men weren’t prepared for battle—he’d forced them to abandon camp too quickly.

  A koloss swung, its sword whooshing dangerously close to Elend’s head. He cursed, dropping a coin and Pushing himself backward through the air, over his fighting men and back into camp. They’d managed to retreat back to the positioning of their original fortification, which meant that they had a small hill for defense and didn’t have to fight in ash. A group of his Coinshots—he only had ten—stood firing wave after wave of coins into the main bulk of the koloss, and archers threw similar volleys. The main line of soldiers was supported by Lurchers from behind, who would Pull on koloss weapons and throw them off balance, giving the regular men extra openings. Thugs ran around the perimeter in groups of two or three, shoring up weak spots and acting as reserves.

  Even with all of that, they were in serious trouble. Elend’s army couldn’t stand against so many koloss any more easily than Fadrex could have. Elend landed in the middle of the half-disassembled camp, breathing heavily, covered in koloss blood. Men yelled as they fought a short distance away, holding the camp perimeter with the help of Elend’s Allomancers. The bulk of the koloss army was still bunched around the northern section of camp, but Elend couldn’t pull his men back any farther toward Fadrex without exposing them to Yomen’s archers.

  Elend tried to catch his breath as a servant rushed up with a cup of water for him. Cett sat a short distance away, directing the battle tactics. Elend tossed aside the empty cup and moved over to the general, who sat at a small table. It held a map of the area, but hadn’t been marked on. The koloss were so close, the battle happening just yards away, that it wasn’t really necessary to keep an abstract battle map.

  “Never did like having those things in the army,” Cett said as he downed a cup of water himself. A servant moved over, leading a surgeon, who pulled out a bandage to begin working on Elend’s arm—which, up until that moment, he hadn’t noticed was bleeding.

  “Well,” Cett noted, “at least we’ll die in battle, rather than of starvation!”

  Elend snorted, picking up his sword again. The sky was nearly dark. They didn’t have much time before—

  A figure landed on the table in front of Cett. “Elend!” Vin said. “Retreat to the city. Yomen will let you in.”

  Elend started. “Vin!” Then, he smiled. “What took you so long?”

  “I got delayed by an Inquisitor and a dark god,” she said. “Now, hustle. I’ll go see if I can distract some of those koloss.”

  Inquisitors had little chance of resisting Ruin. They had more spikes than any of his other Hemalurgic creations, and that put them completely under his domination.

  Yes, it would have taken a man of supreme will to resist Ruin even slightly while bearing the spikes of an Inquisitor.

  66

  SAZED TRIED NOT TO THINK about how dark the ash was in the sky, or how terrible the land looked.

  I’ve been such a fool, he thought, riding in the saddle. Of all the times that the world needed something to believe in, this is it. And I wasn’t there to give it to them.

  He hurt from so much riding, yet he clung to the saddle, still somewhat amazed at the creature who ran beneath him. When Sazed had first decided to go with TenSoon south, he had despaired at making the trip. Ash fell like the snows of a blizzard, and it had piled terribly high in most places. Sazed had known travel would be difficult, and he’d feared slowing TenSoon, who could obviously travel far more quickly as a wolfhound.

  TenSoon considered this concern, then had ordered a horse and a large hog to be brought to him. TenSoon first ingested the hog to give himself extra mass, then molded his gel-like flesh around the horse to digest it as well. Within an hour, he’d formed his body into a replica of the horse—but one with enhanced muscles and weight, creating the enormous, extra-strong marvel which Sazed now rode.

  They’d been running nonstop since then. Fortunately, Sazed had some wakefulness he’d stored in a metalmind a year ago, after the siege of Luthadel. He used this to keep himself from falling asleep. It still amazed him that TenSoon could enhance a horse’s body so well. It moved with ease through the thick ash, where a real horse—and certainly a human—would have balked at the difficulty. Another thing I’ve been a fool about. These last few days, I could have been interrogating TenSoon about his powers. How much more is there that I don’t know?

  Despite his shame, however, Sazed felt something of peace within himself. If he’d continued to teach about religions after he’d stopped believing in them, then he would have been a true hypocrite. Tindwyl had believed in giving people hope, even if one had to tell them lies to do so. That’s the credit she had given to religion: lies that made people feel better.

  Sazed couldn’t have acted the same way—at least, he couldn’t have done so and remained the person he wanted to be. However, he now had hope. The Terris religion was the one that had taught about the Hero of Ages in the first place. If any contained the truth, it would be this one. Sazed needed to interrogate the First Generation of kandra and discover what they knew.

  Though, if I do find the truth, what will I do with it?

  The trees they passed were stripped of leaves. The landscape was covered in a good four feet of ash. “How can you keep going like this?” Sazed asked as the kandra galloped over a hilltop, shoving aside ash and ignoring obstructions.

  “My people are created from mistwraiths,” TenSoon explained, not even sounding winded. “The Lord Ruler turned the Feruchemists into mistwraiths, and they began to breed true as a species. You add a Blessing to a mistwraith, and they become awakened, turning into a kandra. One such as I, created centuries after the Ascension, was born as a mistwraith but became awakened when I received my Blessing.”

  “. . . Blessing?” Sazed asked.

  “Two small metal spikes, Keeper,” TenSoon said. “We are created like Inquisitors, or like koloss. However, we are more subtle creations than either of those. We were made third and last, as the Lord Ruler’s power waned.”

  Sazed frowned, leaning low as the horse ran beneath some skeletal tree branches.

  “What is different about you?”

  “We have more independence of will than the other two,” TenSoon said. “We only have two spikes in us, while the others have more. An Allomancer can still take co
ntrol of us, but free we remain more independent of mind than koloss or Inquisitors, who are both affected by Ruin’s impulses even when he isn’t directly controlling them. Did you never wonder why both of them are driven so powerfully to kill?”

  “That doesn’t explain how you can carry me, all our baggage, and still run through this ash.”

  “The metal spikes we carry grant us things,” TenSoon said. “Much as Feruchemy gives you strength, or Allomancy gives Vin strength, my Blessing gives me strength. It will never run out, but it isn’t as spectacular as the bursts your people can create. Still, my Blessing—mixed with my ability to craft my body as I wish—allows me a high level of endurance.”

  Sazed fell silent. They continued to gallop.

  “There isn’t much time left,” TenSoon noted.

  “I can see that,” Sazed said. “It makes me wonder what we can do.”

  “This is the only time in which we could succeed,” TenSoon said. “We must be poised, ready to strike. Ready to aid the Hero of Ages when she comes.”

  “Comes?”

  “She will lead an army of Allomancers to the Homeland,” TenSoon said, “and there will save all of us—kandra, human, koloss, and Inquisitor.”

  An army of Allomancers? “Then . . . what am I to do?”

  “You must convince the kandra how dire the situation is,” TenSoon explained, slowing to a stop in the ash. “For there is . . . something they must be prepared to do. Something very difficult, yet necessary. My people will resist it, but perhaps you can show them the way.”

  Sazed nodded, then climbed off of the kandra to stretch his legs.

  “Do you recognize this location?” TenSoon asked, turning to look at him with a horse’s head.

  “I do not,” Sazed said. “With the ash . . . well, I haven’t really been able to follow our path for days.”

  “Over that ridge, you will find the place where the Terris people have set up their refugee camp.”

  Sazed turned with surprise. “The Pits of Hathsin?”

 

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