The Mistborn Trilogy

by Brandon Sanderson

  This is going to be tough, Vin thought, frowning with concentration as she passed over the first shoe and Pushed on it. However, she didn’t get the angle right, and she fell too far before Pushing. The horseshoe shot out behind her, and didn’t give her enough upward momentum to keep her in the air. She hit the ground hard, but immediately Pulled the shoe to herself and tried again.

  The first few tries were slow. The biggest problem was getting the angle down. She had to hit the shoe just right, giving it enough downward force to keep it in place on the ground, but enough forward motion to keep her moving in the right direction. She had to land often that first hour, going back to fetch horseshoes. However, she didn’t have time for much experimentation, and her determination insisted that she get the process right.

  Eventually, she had three shoes working pretty well; it helped that the ground was wet, and that her weight pressed the horseshoes down in the mud, giving her a stronger anchor to use when Pushing herself forward. Soon she was able to add a fourth shoe. The more frequently she Pushed—the more horseshoes she had to Push against—the faster she would go.

  By the time she was an hour out of the village, she added a fifth shoe. The result was a continuous flow of flipping metal chunks. Vin Pulled, then Pushed, then Pulled, then Pushed, moving with continual single-mindedness, juggling herself through the air.

  The ground raced beneath her and horseshoes shot through the air above her. The wind became a roar as she Pushed herself faster and faster, steering her pathway to the south. She was a flurry of metal and motion—as Kelsier had been, near the end, when he had killed the Inquisitor.

  Except, her metal wasn’t meant to kill, but save. I might not arrive in time, she thought, air rushing around her. But I’m not going to give up halfway.

  53

  I have a young nephew, one Rashek. He hates all of Khlennium with the passion of envious youth. He hates Alendi even more acutely—though the two have never met—for Rashek feels betrayed that one of our oppressors should have been chosen as the Hero of Ages.

  Straff was actually starting to feel quite well as his army crested the last hill to overlook Luthadel. He’d discreetly tried a few drugs from his cabinet, and he was pretty certain he knew which one Amaranta had given him: Black Frayn. A nasty drug indeed. He’d have to wean himself from it slowly—but, for now, a few swallowed leaves made him stronger and more alert than he’d ever been before. In fact, he felt wonderful.

  He was sure the same couldn’t be said for those in Luthadel. The koloss pooled around the outer wall, still beating on several of the gates on the north and east sides. Smoke rose from inside the city.

  “Our scouts say the creatures have broken through four of the city gates, my lord,” said Lord Janarle. “They breached the eastern gate first, and there met with heavy resistance. The northeastern gate fell next, then the northwestern gate, but the troops at both are holding as well. The main breach happened in the north. The koloss are apparently ravaging from that direction, burning and looting.”

  Straff nodded. The northern gate, he thought. The one closest to Keep Venture.

  “Do we attack, my lord?” Janarle asked.

  “How long ago did the northern gate fall?”

  “Perhaps an hour ago, my lord.”

  Straff shook his head leisurely. “Then, let us wait. The creatures worked quite hard to break into the city—we should at least let them have a little fun before we slaughter them.”

  “Are you sure, my lord?”

  Straff smiled. “Once they lose their bloodlust in a few hours, they’ll be tired from all the fighting and calm down. That will be the best time to strike. They’ll be dispersed through the city and weakened from the resistance. We can take them easily, that way.”

  Sazed gripped his koloss opponent by the throat, forcing back its snarling, distorted face. The beast’s skin was stretched so tightly that it had split down the center of the face, revealing bloody muscles above the teeth, around the nose holes. It breathed with husky rage, spraying droplets of spittle and blood across Sazed with each exhalation.

  Strength! Sazed thought, tapping his pewtermind for more power. His body became so massive that he feared splitting his own skin. Fortunately, his metalminds had been built to expand, braces and rings that didn’t connect on one side so that they could bend. Still, his bulk was daunting. He probably wouldn’t have been able to walk or maneuver with such size—but it didn’t matter, for the koloss had already knocked him to the ground. All he needed was some extra power in his grip. The creature clawed him in the arm with one hand, reaching behind with the other, grasping its sword….

  Sazed’s fingers finally crushed the beast’s thick neck. The creature tried to snarl, but no breath came, and it instead thrashed about in frustration. Sazed forced himself to his feet, then hurled the creature toward its companions. With such unnatural strength, even a body eleven feet tall felt light in his fingers. It smashed into a pile of attacking koloss, forcing them backward.

  Sazed stood, gasping. I’m using my strength up so quickly, he thought, releasing his pewtermind, his body deflating like a wineskin. He couldn’t continue tapping his reserves so much. He’d already used up a good half of his strength—strength that had taken decades to store. He still hadn’t used his rings, but he had only a few minutes of each attribute in those. They would wait for an emergency.

  And that might be what I’m facing now, he thought with dread. They still held Steel Gate Square. Though koloss had broken through the gate, only a few could pass through at once—and only the most massive seemed able to jump up to the wall.

  Sazed’s little troop of soldiers was sorely pressed, however. Bodies lay scattered in the courtyard. The skaa faithful at the back had begun pulling the wounded to safety. Sazed could hear them groaning behind him.

  Koloss corpses littered the square as well, and despite the carnage, Sazed couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at how much it was costing the creatures to force their way inside this portal. Luthadel was not falling easily. Not at all.

  The koloss seemed rebuffed for the moment, and though several skirmishes still continued in the courtyard, a new group of monsters was gathering outside the gate.

  Outside the gate, Sazed thought, glancing to the side. The creatures had cared to break open only one of the massive door gates, the right one. There were corpses in the square—dozens, perhaps hundreds—but the koloss themselves had cleared many out of the way of the gate itself so that they could get into the courtyard.

  Perhaps…

  Sazed didn’t have time to think. He dashed forward, tapping his pewtermind again, giving himself the strength of five men. He picked up the body of a smaller koloss and threw it out the gate. The creatures outside snarled, scattering. There were still hundreds waiting for the chance to get in, but they tripped over the dead in their haste to get out of the way of his projectile.

  Sazed slipped on blood as he grabbed a second body, throwing it to the side. “To me!” he screamed, hoping that there were men who could hear, and who could respond.

  The koloss realized what he was doing too late. He kicked another body out of the way, then slammed his body against the open door and tapped his ironmind, drawing forth the weight he had stored within it. Immediately, he became far heavier, and that weight crashed against the gate, slamming it closed.

  Koloss rushed at the doorway from the other side. Sazed scrambled up against the gate, pushing corpses out of the way, forcing the massive portal closed all the way. He tapped his ironmind further, draining its precious reserve at an alarming rate. He became so heavy he felt his own weight crushing him to the ground, and only his increased strength managed to keep him on his feet. Frustrated koloss pounded on the gate, but he held. Held them back, hands and chest pressed against the rough wood, toes wedged back against uneven cobbles. With his brassmind, he didn’t even feel the cold, though ash, snow, and blood mixed at his feet.

  Men cried out. Some died. Others s
lammed their own weight against the gate, and Sazed spared a glance behind. The rest of his soldiers set up a perimeter, protecting the gate from the koloss inside the city. The men fought bravely, backs to the gate, only Sazed’s power keeping the portal from flying open.

  And yet, they fought. Sazed cried out in defiance, feet slipping, holding the gate as his soldiers killed the remaining koloss in the courtyard. Then, a group of them rushed in from the side, bearing with them a large length of wood. Sazed didn’t know where they’d gotten it, nor did he care, as they slid it into place where the gate bar had been.

  His weight ran out, the ironmind empty. I should have stored more of that, over the years, he thought with a sigh of exhaustion, sinking down before the closed gate. It had seemed like a lot, until he’d been forced to use it so often, using it to shove away koloss or the like.

  I usually just stored up weight as a side effect of making myself lighter. That always seemed the more useful way to use iron.

  He released pewter, and felt his body deflating. Fortunately, stretching his body in such a manner didn’t leave his skin loose. He went back to his usual self, only bearing a dreadful sense of exhaustion and a faint soreness. The koloss continued to beat on the gate. Sazed opened tired eyes, lying bare-chested in the falling snow and ash. His soldiers stood solemnly before him.

  So few, he thought. Barely fifty remained of his original four hundred. The square itself was red—as if painted—with bright koloss blood, and it mixed with the darker human kind. Sickly blue lumps of bodies lay alone or in heaps, interspersed with the twisted and torn pieces that were often all that remained of human bodies once they were hit by the brutal koloss swords.

  The thumping continued, like low drums, on the other side of the gate. The beating picked up to a frenzied pace, the gate shaking, as the koloss grew more frustrated. They could probably smell the blood, feel the flesh that had so nearly been theirs.

  “That board won’t hold for long,” one of the soldiers said quietly, a bit of ash floating down in front of his face. “And the hinges are splintering. They’re going to get through again.”

  Sazed stumbled to his feet. “And we will fight again.”

  “My lord!” a voice said. Sazed turned to see one of Dockson’s messengers ride around a pile of corpses. “Lord Dockson says that …” He trailed off, noticing for the first time that Sazed’s gate was closed. “How…” the man began.

  “Deliver your message, young man,” Sazed said tiredly.

  “Lord Dockson says you won’t get any reinforcements,” the man said, reining in his horse. “Tin Gate has fallen, and—”

  “Tin Gate?” Sazed asked. Tindwyl! “When?”

  “Over an hour ago, my lord.”

  An hour? he thought with shock. How long have we been fighting?

  “You have to hold here, my lord!” the young man said, turning and galloping back the way he had come.

  Sazed took a step to the east. Tindwyl….

  The thumping on his gate grew louder, and the board began to crack. The men ran for something else to use to secure the gate, but Sazed could see that the mountings that kept the board in place were beginning to pull apart. Once they went, there would be no way to hold the gate closed.

  Sazed closed his eyes, feeling the weight of fatigue, reaching into his pewtermind. It was nearly drained. After it was gone, he’d only have the tiny bit of strength in one of the rings.

  Yet, what else could he do?

  He heard the board snap, and men yelled.

  “Back!” Clubs yelled. “Fall into the city!”

  The remnants of their army broke apart, pulling back from Zinc Gate. Breeze watched with horror as more and more koloss spilled into the square, overrunning the few men too weak or too wounded to retreat. The creatures swept forward like a great blue tide, a tide with swords of steel and eyes of red.

  In the sky, the sun—only faintly visible behind storm clouds—was a bleeding scar that crept toward the horizon.

  “Breeze,” Clubs snapped, pulling him back. “Time to go.”

  Their horses had long since bolted. Breeze stumbled after the general, trying not to listen to the snarling from behind.

  “Fall back to the harrying positions!” Clubs called to those men who could hear him. “First squad, shore up inside Keep Lekal! Lord Hammond should be there by now, preparing the defenses! Squad two, with me to Keep Hasting!”

  Breeze continued on, his mind as numb as his feet. He’d been virtually useless in the battle. He’d tried to take away the men’s fear, but his efforts had seemed so inadequate. Like…holding a piece of paper up to the sun to make shade.

  Clubs held up a hand, and the squad of two hundred men stopped. Breeze looked around. The street was quiet in the falling ash and snow. Everything seemed…dull. The sky was dim, the city’s features softened by the blanket of black-speckled snow. It seemed so strange to have fled the horrific scene of scarlet and blue to find the city looking so lazy.

  “Damn!” Clubs snapped, pushing Breeze out of the way as a raging group of koloss burst from a side street. Clubs’s soldiers fell into a line, but another group of koloss—the creatures that had just burst through the gate—came up behind them.

  Breeze stumbled, falling in the snow. That other group…it came from the north! The creatures have infiltrated the city this far already?

  “Clubs!” Breeze said, turning. “We—”

  Breeze looked just in time to see a massive koloss sword sheer through Clubs’s upraised arm, then continue on to hit the general in the ribs. Clubs grunted, thrown to the side, his sword arm—weapon and all—flying free. He stumbled on his bad leg, and the koloss brought his sword down in a two-handed blow.

  The dirty snow finally got some color. A splash of red.

  Breeze stared, dumbfounded, at the remains of his friend’s corpse. Then the koloss turned toward Breeze, snarling.

  The likelihood of his own impending death hit, stirring him as even the cold snow couldn’t. Breeze scrambled back, sliding in the snow, instinctively reaching out to try and Soothe the creature. Of course, nothing happened. Breeze tried to get to his feet, and the koloss—along with several others—began to bear down on him. At that moment, however, another troop of soldiers fleeing the gate appeared from a cross street, distracting the koloss.

  Breeze did the only thing that seemed natural. He crawled inside a building and hid.

  “This is all Kelsier’s fault,” Dockson muttered, making another notation on his map. According to messengers, Ham had reached Keep Lekal. It wouldn’t last long.

  The Venture grand hall was a flurry of motion and chaos as panicked scribes ran this way and that, finally realizing that koloss didn’t care if a man were skaa, scholar, nobleman, or merchant. The creatures just liked to kill.

  “He should have seen this coming,” Dockson continued. “He left us with this mess, and then he just assumed that we’d find a way to fix it. Well, I can’t hide a city from its enemies—not like I hid a crew. Just because we were excellent thieves doesn’t mean we’d be any good at running a kingdom!”

  Nobody was listening to him. His messengers had all fled, and his guards fought at the keep gates. Each of the keeps had its own defenses, but Clubs—rightly—had decided to use them only as a fallback option. They weren’t designed to repel a large-scale attack, and they were too secluded from each other. Retreating to them only fractured and isolated the human army.

  “Our real problem is follow-through,” Dockson said, making a final notation at Tin Gate, explaining what had happened there. He looked over the map. He’d never expected Sazed’s gate to be the last one to hold.

  “Follow-through,” he continued. “We assumed we could do a better job than the noblemen, but once we had the power, we put them back in charge. If we’d killed the whole lot, perhaps then we could have started fresh. Of course, that would have meant invading the other dominances—which would have meant sending Vin to take care of the most important, most p
roblematic, noblemen. There would have been a slaughter like the Final Empire had never seen. And, if we’d done that…”

  He trailed off, looking up as one of the massive, majestic stained-glass windows shattered. The others began to explode as well, broken by thrown rocks. A few large koloss jumped through the holes, landing on the shard-strewn marble floor. Even broken, the windows were beautiful, the spiked glass edges twinkling in the evening light. Through one of them, Dockson could see that the storm was breaking, letting sunlight through.

  “If we’d done that,” Dockson said quietly, “we’d have been no better than beasts.”

  Scribes screamed, trying to flee as the koloss began the slaughter. Dockson stood quietly, hearing noise behind—grunts, harsh breathing—as koloss approached through the back hallways. He reached for the sword on his table as men began to die.

  He closed his eyes. You know, Kell, he thought. I almost started to believe that they were right, that you were watching over us. That you were some sort of god.

  He opened his eyes and turned, pulling the sword from its sheath. Then he froze, staring at the massive beast approaching from behind. So big!

  Dockson gritted his teeth, sending a final curse Kelsier’s way, then charged, swinging.

  The creature caught his weapon in an indifferent hand, ignoring the cut it caused. Then, it brought its own weapon down, and blackness followed.

  “My lord,” Janarle said. “The city has fallen. Look, you can see it burning. The koloss have penetrated all but one of the four gates under attack, and they run wild in the city. They aren’t stopping to pillage—they’re just killing. Slaughtering. There aren’t many soldiers left to oppose them.”

  Straff sat quietly, watching Luthadel burn. It seemed…a symbol to him. A symbol of justice. He’d fled this city once, leaving it to the skaa vermin inside, and when he’d come back to demand it be returned to him, the people had resisted.