Mistborn Trilogy

by Sanderson, Brandon

  Fascinating! Sazed thought. They make their own bones. I really do have a new culture to explore. A whole new society—art, religion, mores, gender interactions. . . .

  The prospect was so exciting that, for a moment, even the end of the world seemed trivial by comparison. He had to remind himself to focus. He needed to investigate their religion first. Other things were secondary.

  “Kandra, who are you? Which bones do you wear?”

  “You are going to be surprised, I think,” Sazed said as gently as he could. “For, I am no kandra. My name is Sazed, Keeper of Terris, and I have been sent to speak with the First Generation.”

  Both kandra guards started.

  “You don’t have to let me pass,” Sazed said. “Of course, if you don’t take me into your Homeland, then I’ll have to leave and tell everyone on the outside where it is. . . .”

  The guards turned to each other. “Come with us,” one of them finally said.

  Koloss also had little chance of breaking free. Four spikes, and their diminished mental capacity, left them fairly easy to dominate. Only in the throes of a blood frenzy did they have any form of autonomy.

  Four spikes also made them easier for Allomancers to control. In our time, it required a duralumin Push to take control of a kandra. Koloss, however, could be taken by a determined regular Push, particularly when they were afraid.

  67

  ELEND AND VIN STOOD ATOP the Fadrex City fortifications. The rock ledge had once held the bonfires they’d watched in the night sky—she could see the blackened scar from one of them just to her left.

  It felt good to be held by Elend again. His warmth was a comfort, particularly when looking out of the city, over the field that Elend’s army had once occupied. The koloss army was growing. It stood silently in the blizzard-like ash, thousands strong. More and more of the creatures were arriving each day, amassing to an overwhelming force.

  “Why don’t they just attack?” Yomen asked with annoyance. He was the only other one who stood on the overlook; Ham and Cett were down below, seeing to the army’s preparation. They’d need to be ready to defend the moment that the koloss assaulted the city.

  “He wants us to know just how soundly he’s going to beat us,” Vin said. Plus, she added in her mind, he’s waiting. Waiting on that last bit of information.

  Where is the atium?

  She’d fooled Ruin. She’d proven to herself that it could be done. Yet, she was still frustrated. She felt like she’d spent the last few years of her life reacting to every wiggle of Ruin’s fingers. Each time she thought herself clever, wise, or self-sacrificing, she discovered that she’d simply been doing his will the entire time. It made her angry.

  But what could she do?

  I have to make Ruin play his hand, she thought. Make him act, expose himself.

  For a brief moment, back in Yomen’s throne room, she had felt something amazing. With the strange power she’d gained from the mists, she’d touched Ruin’s own mind—via Marsh—and seen something therein.

  Fear. She remembered it, distinct and pure. At that moment, Ruin had been afraid of her. That’s why Marsh had fled.

  Somehow, she’d taken the power of the mists into her, then used them to perform Allomancy of surpassing might. She’d done it before, when fighting the Lord Ruler in his palace. Why could she only draw on that power at random, unpredictable times? She’d wanted to use it against Zane, but had failed. She’d tried a dozen times during the last few days, just as she’d tried during the days following the Lord Ruler’s death. She’d never been able to access even a hint of that power.

  It struck like a thunderclap.

  A massive, overpowering quake rolled across the land. The rock ledges around Fadrex broke, some of them tumbling to the ground. Vin remained on her feet, but only with the help of pewter, and she barely snatched Yomen by the front of his obligator robes as he careened and almost fell from their ledge. Elend grabbed her arm, reinforcing her as the sudden quake shook the land. Inside the city, several buildings fell.

  Then, all went still. Vin breathed heavily, forehead slicked with sweat, Yomen’s robes clutched in her grip. She glanced at Elend.

  “That one was far worse than the previous ones,” he said, cursing quietly to himself.

  “We’re doomed,” Yomen said softly, forcing himself to his feet. “If the things you say are true, then not only is the Lord Ruler dead, but the thing he spent his life fighting has now come to destroy the world.”

  “We’ve survived this long,” Elend said firmly. “We’ll make it yet. Earthquakes may hurt us, but they hurt the koloss too—look, and you’ll see that some of them were crushed by toppling rocks. If things get rough up here, we can retreat inside the cavern.”

  “And will it survive quakes like that one?” Yomen asked.

  “Better than the buildings up here will. None of this was built for earthquakes—but if I know the Lord Ruler, he anticipated the quakes, and picked caverns that were solid and capable of withstanding them.”

  Yomen seemed to take little comfort in the words, but Vin smiled. Not because of what Elend said, but because of how he said it. Something about him had changed. He seemed confident in a way he’d never been before. He had some of the same idealistic air he’d expressed when he’d been a youth at court—yet he also had the hardness of the man who’d led his people in war.

  He’d finally found the balance. And, oddly enough, it had come from deciding to retreat.

  “He does have a point, however, Vin,” Elend said in a softer tone. “We need to figure out our next step. Ruin obviously intended to defeat us here, but he has been pushed back for a time, at least. What now?”

  We have to trick him, she thought. Perhaps . . . use the same strategy Yomen used on me?

  She paused, considering the idea. She reached up, fingering her earring. It had been mangled after its trip through Marsh’s head, of course, but it had been a simple matter to have a smith bend it back into shape.

  The first time she’d met with Yomen, he’d given her back the earring. It had seemed like a strange move, giving metal to an Allomancer. Yet, in a controlled environment, it had been very clever. He’d been able to test and see if she had any hidden metals—all the while reserving the fact that he could burn atium and protect himself.

  Later, he’d been able to get her to reveal her hand, to attack and show him what she was planning, so that he could defuse it in a situation where he was in power. Could she do the same to Ruin?

  That thought mixed with another one. Both times when the mists had helped her, they had come in a moment of pure desperation. It was as if they reacted to her need. So, was there a way to put herself in a situation where her need was even greater than before? It was a thin hope, but—mixed with her desire to force Ruin’s hand—it formed a plan in her head.

  Put herself in danger. Make Ruin bring his Inquisitors, putting Vin in a situation where the mists had to help her. If that didn’t work, maybe she could get Ruin to play his hand or spring any hidden traps he had waiting for her.

  It was incredibly risky, but she could feel that she didn’t have much time. Ruin would win soon—very soon—unless she did something. And, this was all she could think of to do. But, how could she make it happen without explaining it to Elend? She couldn’t speak of the plan, lest she reveal to Ruin what she was doing.

  She looked up at Elend, a man she seemed to know better than herself. He hadn’t needed to tell her that he’d reconciled the two halves of himself, she’d simply been able to tell it from looking at him. With a person like that, did she even really need to speak her plans? Perhaps . . . “Elend,” she said, “I think there’s only one way to save this city.”

  “And that is?” he said slowly.

  “I have to go get it.”

  Elend frowned, then opened his mouth. She looked into his eyes, hoping. He paused.

  “The . . . atium?” he guessed.

  Vin smiled. “Yes. Ruin knows that we h
ave it. He’ll find it even if we don’t use it. But, if we bring it here, at least we can fight.”

  “It would be safer here anyway,” Elend said slowly, eyes confused, but trusting her. “I’d rather have an army between those riches and our enemies. Perhaps we could use it to bribe some local warlords to help us.”

  It seemed a flimsy ruse to her. And yet, she knew that was because she could see Elend’s confusion, could read his lies in his eyes. She understood him, as he understood her. It was an understanding that required love.

  And she suspected that was something that Ruin would never be able to comprehend.

  “I need to leave, then,” she said, embracing him tightly, closing her eyes.

  “I know.”

  She held him close for a few moments longer, feeling the ash fall around her, blow against her skin and cheek. Feeling Elend’s heart beat beneath her ear. She leaned up and kissed him. Finally, she pulled back, then checked her metals. She met his eyes, and he nodded, so she jumped down into the city to gather some horseshoes.

  A few moments later, she was shooting through the ashy air toward Luthadel, a maelstrom of metal around her. Elend stood silently behind, on the rock ledge, watching her go.

  Now, she thought to Ruin, who she knew was watching her carefully, even though he hadn’t revealed himself since she’d drawn upon the mists. Let’s have a chase, you and I.

  When the Lord Ruler offered his plan to his Feruchemist friends—the plan to change them into mistwraiths—he was making them speak on behalf of all the land’s Feruchemists. Though he changed his friends into kandra to restore their minds and memories, the rest he left as nonsentient mistwraiths. These bred more of their kind, living and dying, becoming a race unto themselves. From these children of the original mistwraiths, he made the next generations of kandra.

  However, even gods can make mistakes, I have learned. Rashek, the Lord Ruler, thought to transform all of the living Feruchemists into mistwraiths. However, he did not think of the genetic heritage left in the other Terris people, whom he left alive. So it was that Feruchemists continued being born, if only rarely.

  This oversight cost him much, but gained the world so much more.

  68

  SAZED WALKED IN WONDER, led by his guards. He saw kandra after kandra, each one with a more interesting body than the one before. Some were tall and willowy, with bones made of white wood. Others were stocky, with bones thicker than any human’s. All stuck generally to human body shapes, however.

  They used to be human, he reminded himself. Or, at least, their ancestors were.

  The caverns around him felt old. The pathways were worn smooth, and while there were no real “buildings,” he passed many smaller caverns, varied drapery hanging in front of their openings. There was a sense of exquisite craftsmanship to it all, from the carved poles that held the fungus lights, to the very bones of the people around him. It wasn’t the detailed ornamentation of a nobleman’s keep, for there were no patterns, leaves, or knots carved into the stonework or bones. Instead, things were polished smooth, carved with rounded sides, or woven in broad lines and shapes.

  The kandra seemed afraid of him. It was a strange experience for Sazed. He had been many things in his life: rebel, servant, friend, scholar. However, never before had he found himself an object of fear. Kandra ducked around corners, peeking at him. Others stood in shock, watching him pass. Obviously, news of his arrival had spread quickly, otherwise they would have just assumed him to be a kandra wearing human bones.

  His guards led him to a steel door set into a large cavern wall. One of them moved inside, while the other guarded Sazed. Sazed noticed shards of metal twinkling in the kandra’s shoulders. They appeared to be spikes, one in each shoulder.

  Smaller than Inquisitor spikes, Sazed thought. But still very effective. Interesting.

  “What would you do if I were to run?” Sazed asked.

  The kandra started. “Um . . .”

  “Can I assume from your hesitance that you are still forbidden to harm, or at least kill, a human?” Sazed asked.

  “We follow the First Contract.”

  “Ah,” Sazed said. “Very interesting. And, with whom did you make the First Contract?”

  “The Father.”

  “The Lord Ruler?” Sazed asked.

  The kandra nodded.

  “He is, unfortunately and truly, dead. So, is your Contract no longer valid?”

  “I don’t know,” the kandra said, looking away.

  So, Sazed thought, not all of them are as forceful of personality as TenSoon. Even when he was playing the part of a simple wolfhound, I found him to be intense.

  The other soldier returned. “Come with me,” he said.

  They led Sazed through the open metal doors. The room beyond had a large metal pedestal a few feet high. The guards did not step on it, but led Sazed around it toward a place before a group of stone lecterns. Many of the lecterns were empty, though kandra with twinkling bones stood behind two of them. These creatures were tall—or, at least, they used tall bones—and very fine-featured.

  Aristocrats, Sazed thought. He had found that class of people very easy to identify, no matter what the culture or—apparently—species.

  Sazed’s guards gestured for him to stand before the lecterns. Sazed ignored the gestures, walking in a circle around the room. As he had expected, his guards didn’t know what to do—they followed, but refrained from putting their hands on him.

  “There is metal plating surrounding the entire chamber,” Sazed noted. “Is it ornamental, or does it serve a function?”

  “We will be asking the questions here, Terrisman!” said one of the aristocratic kandra.

  Sazed paused, turning. “No,” he said. “No, you will not. I am Sazed, Keeper of Terris. However, among your people, I have another name. The Announcer.”

  The other kandra leader snorted. “What does an outsider know of such things?”

  “An outsider?” Sazed asked. “You should better learn your own doctrine, I think.” He began to walk forward. “I am Terris, as are you. Yes, I know your origins. I know how you were created—and I know the heritage you bring with you.”

  He stopped before their lecterns. “I announce to you that I have discovered the Hero. I have lived with her, worked with her, and watched her. I handed her the very spear she used to slay the Lord Ruler. I have seen her take command of kings, watched her overcome armies of both men and koloss. I have come to announce this to you, so that you may prepare yourselves.”

  He paused, eyeing them. “For the end is here,” he added.

  The two kandra stood quietly for a few moments. “Go get the others,” one finally said, his voice shaking.

  Sazed smiled. As one of the guards ran off, Sazed turned to face down the second soldier. “I shall require a table and chair, please. Also, something with which to write.”

  A few minutes later, all was ready. His kandra attendants had swelled from four to over twenty—twelve of them being the aristocratic ones with the twinkling bones. Some attendants had set up a small table for Sazed, and he seated himself as the kandra nobles spoke together in anxious whispers.

  Carefully, Sazed placed his pack on the table and began to remove his metalminds. Small rings, smaller earrings and studs, and large bracers soon lined the table. He pushed up his sleeves, then clasped on his copperminds—two large bracers on the upper arms, then two bracers on the forearms. Finally, he removed his tome from the pack and set it on the table. Some kandra approached with thin plates of metal. Sazed watched curiously as they arranged them for him, along with what appeared to be a steel pen, capable of making indentations in the soft writing metal. The kandra servants bowed and withdrew.

  Excellent, Sazed thought, picking up the metal pen and clearing his throat. The kandra leaders turned toward him.

  “I assume,” Sazed said, “that you are the First Generation?”

  “We are the Second Generation, Terrisman,” one of the kandra s
aid.

  “Well, I apologize for taking your time, then. Where can I find your superiors?”

  The lead kandra snorted. “Do not think you have us quelled just because you were able to draw us together. I see no reason for you to speak with the First Generation, even if you can blaspheme quite accurately.”

  Sazed raised an eyebrow. “Blaspheme?”

  “You are not the Announcer,” the kandra said. “This is not the end.”

  “Have you seen the ash up above?” Sazed said. “Or, has it stopped up the entrances to this cavern complex so soundly that nobody can escape to see that the world is falling apart?”

  “We have lived a very long time, Terrisman,” one of the other kandra said. “We have seen periods where the ash fell more copiously than others.”

  “Oh?” Sazed asked. “And you have, perhaps, seen the Lord Ruler die before as well?”

  Some of the kandra looked uncomfortable at this, though the one at the lead shook his head. “Did TenSoon send you?”

  “He did,” Sazed admitted.

  “You can make no arguments other than those he has already made,” the kandra said. “Why would he think that you—an outsider—could persuade us, when he could not?”

  “Perhaps because he understood something about me,” Sazed said, tapping his book with his pen. “Are you aware of the ways of Keepers, kandra?”

  “My name is KanPaar,” the kandra said. “And yes, I understand what Keepers do—or, at least, what they did, before the Father was killed.”

  “Then,” Sazed said, “perhaps you know that every Keeper has an area of specialty. The intention was that when the Lord Ruler finally did fall, we would already be divided into specialists who could teach our knowledge to the people.”

  “Yes,” KanPaar said.

  “Well,” Sazed said, rubbing fingers over his book. “My specialty was religion. Do you know how many religions there were before the Lord Ruler’s Ascension?”