فصل 5

5

ELEND KNELT BESIDE THE FALLEN INQUISITOR, trying to ignore the mess that was left of the thing’s head. Vin approached, and he noted the wound on her forearm. As usual, she all but ignored the injury.

The koloss army stood quietly on the battlefield around them. Elend still wasn’t comfortable with the idea of controlling the creatures. He felt . . . tainted by even associating with them. Yet, it was the only way.

“Something’s wrong, Elend,” Vin said.

He looked up from the body. “What? You think there might be another one around?” She shook her head. “Not that. That Inquisitor moved too quickly at the end. I’ve never seen a person—Allomancer or not—with that kind of speed.” “He must have had duralumin,” Elend said, looking down. For a time, he and Vin had held an edge, since they’d had access to an Allomantic metal the Inquisitors hadn’t known about. Reports now indicated that edge was gone.

Fortunately, they still had electrum. The Lord Ruler was to be thanked for that, actually. Poor man’s atium. Normally, an Allomancer who was burning atium was virtually invincible—only another Allomancer burning the metal could fight him. Unless, of course, one had electrum. Electrum didn’t grant the same invincibility as atium—which allowed an Allomancer to see slightly into the future—but it did make one immune to atium.

“Elend,” Vin said, kneeling, “it wasn’t duralumin. The Inquisitor was moving too quickly even for that.” Elend frowned. He had seen the Inquisitor move only out of the corner of his eye, but surely it hadn’t been that fast. Vin had a tendency to be paranoid and assume the worst.

Of course, she also had a habit of being right.

She reached out and grabbed the front of the corpse’s robe, ripping it free. Elend turned away. “Vin! Have respect for the dead!” “I have no respect for these things,” she said, “nor will I ever. Did you see how that thing tried to use one of its spikes to kill you?” “That was odd. Perhaps he felt he couldn’t get to the axes in time.”

“Here, look.”

Elend glanced back. The Inquisitor had the standard spikes—three pounded between the ribs on each side of the chest. But . . . there was another one—one Elend hadn’t seen in any other Inquisitor corpse—pounded directly through the front of this creature’s chest.

Lord Ruler! Elend thought. That one would have gone right through its heart. How did it survive? Of course, if two spikes through the brain didn’t kill it, then one through the heart probably wouldn’t either.

Vin reached down and yanked the spike free. Elend winced. She held it up, frowning. “Pewter,” she said.

“Really?” Elend asked.

She nodded. “That makes ten spikes. Two through the eyes and one through the shoulders: all steel. Six through the ribs: two steel, four bronze. Now this, a pewter one—not to mention the one he tried to use on you, which appears to be steel.” Elend studied the spike in her hand. In Allomancy and Feruchemy, different metals did different things—he could only guess that for Inquisitors, the type of metal used in the various spikes was important as well. “Perhaps they don’t use Allomancy at all, but some . . . third power.” “Maybe,” Vin said, gripping the spike, standing up. “We’ll need to cut open the stomach and see if it had atium.” “Maybe this one will finally have some.” They always burned electrum as a precaution; so far, none of the Inquisitors they’d met had actually possessed any atium.

Vin shook her head, staring out over the ash-covered battlefield. “We’re missing something, Elend. We’re like children, playing a game we’ve watched our parents play, but not really knowing any of the rules. And . . . our opponent created the game in the first place.” Elend stepped around the corpse, moving over to her. “Vin, we don’t even known that it’s out there. The thing we saw a year ago at the Well . . . perhaps it’s gone. Perhaps it left, now that it’s free. That could be all it wanted.” Vin looked at him. He could read in her eyes that she didn’t believe that. Perhaps she saw that he didn’t really believe it either.

“It’s out there, Elend,” she whispered. “It’s directing the Inquisitors; it knows what we’re doing. That’s why the koloss always move against the same cities we do. It has power over the world—it can change text that has been written, create miscommunications and confusion. It knows our plans.” Elend put a hand on her shoulder. “But today we beat it—and, it sent us this handy koloss army.” “And how many humans did we lose trying to capture this force?”

Elend didn’t need to speak the answer. Too many. Their numbers were dwindling. The mists—the Deepness—were growing more powerful, choking the life from random people, killing the crops of the rest. The Outer Dominances were wastelands—only those closest to the capital, Luthadel, still got enough daylight to grow food. And even that area of livability was shrinking.

Hope, Elend thought forcefully. She needs that from me; she’s always needed that from me. He tightened his grip on her shoulder, then pulled her into an embrace. “We’ll beat it, Vin. We’ll find a way.” She didn’t contradict him, but she obviously wasn’t convinced. Still, she let him hold her, closing her eyes and resting her head against his chest. They stood on the battlefield before their fallen foe, but even Elend had to admit that it didn’t feel like much of a victory. Not with the world collapsing around them.

Hope! he thought again. I belong to the Church of the Survivor, now. It has only one prime commandment.

Survive.

“Give me one of the koloss,” Vin finally said, pulling out of the embrace.

Elend released one of the medium-large creatures, letting Vin take control of it. He still didn’t quite understand how they controlled the creatures. Once he had control of a koloss, he could control it indefinitely—whether sleeping or awake, burning metals or not. There were many things he didn’t understand about Allomancy. He’d had only a year to use his powers, and he had been distracted by ruling an empire and trying to feed his people, not to mention the wars. He’d had little time for practice.

Of course, Vin had less time than that to practice before she killed the Lord Ruler himself. Vin, however, was a special case. She used Allomancy as easily as other people breathed; it was less a skill to her than an extension of who she was. Elend might be more powerful—as she always insisted—but she was the true master.

Vin’s lone koloss wandered over and picked up the fallen Inquisitor and the spike. Then, Elend and Vin walked down the hill—Vin’s koloss servant following—toward the human army. The koloss troops split and made a passage at Elend’s command. He suppressed a shiver even as he controlled them.

Fatren, the dirty man who ruled the city, had thought to set up a triage unit—though Elend wasn’t very confident in the abilities of a group of skaa surgeons.

“Why’d they stop?” Fatren asked, standing in front of his men as Vin and Elend approached across the ash-stained ground “I promised you a second army, Lord Fatren,” Elend said. “Well, here it is.”

“The koloss?” he asked.

Elend nodded.

“But they’re the army that came to destroy us.”

“And now they’re ours,” Elend said. “Your men did very well. Make certain they understand that this victory was theirs. We had to force that Inquisitor out into the open, and the only way to do that was to turn his army against itself. Koloss become afraid when they see something small defeating something large. Your men fought bravely; because of them, these koloss are ours.” Fatren scratched his chin. “So,” he said slowly, “they got afraid of us, so they switched sides?” “Something like that,” Elend said, looking over the soldiers. He mentally commanded some koloss to step forward. “These creatures will obey orders from the men in this group. Have them carry your wounded back to the city. However, make certain not to let your men attack or punish the koloss. They are our servants now, understand?” Fatren nodded.

“Let’s go,” Vin said, eagerness sounding in her voice as she looked over at the small city.

“Lord Fatren, do you want to come with us, or do you want to supervise your men?” Elend asked.

Fatren’s eyes narrowed. “What are you going to do?”

“There is something in your city we need to claim.”

Fatren paused. “I’ll come, then.” He gave some orders to his men while Vin waited impatiently. Elend gave her a smile, then finally Fatren joined them, and the three walked back toward the Vetitan gate.

“Lord Fatren,” Elend said as they walked, “you should address me as ‘my lord’ from now on.” Fatren looked up from his nervous study of the koloss standing around them.

“Do you understand?” Elend said, meeting the man’s eyes.

“Um . . . yes. My lord.”

Elend nodded, and Fatren fell a little behind him and Vin, as if showing an unconscious deference. He didn’t seem rebellious—for now, he was probably happy to be alive. Perhaps he would eventually resent Elend for taking command of his city, but by then, there would be little he could do. Fatren’s people would be accustomed to the security of being part of a larger empire, and the stories of Elend’s mysterious command of the koloss—and therefore salvation of the city—would be too strong. Fatren would never rule again.

So easily I command, Elend thought. Just two years ago, I made even more mistakes than this man. At least he managed to keep his city’s people together in a time of crisis. I lost my throne, until Vin conquered it back for me.

“I worry about you,” Vin asked. “Did you have to start the battle without me?” Elend glanced to the side. There was no reproach in her voice. Just concern.

“I wasn’t sure when—or even if—you’d arrive,” he said. “The opportunity was just too good. The koloss had just marched an entire day. We probably killed five hundred before they even decided to start attacking.” “And the Inquisitor?” Vin asked. “Did you really think you could take him on your own?” “Did you?” Elend asked. “You fought him for a good five minutes before I was able to get there and help.” Vin didn’t use the obvious argument—that she was by far the more accomplished Mistborn. Instead, she just walked silently. She still worried about him, even though she no longer tried to protect him from all danger. Both her worry and her willingness to let him take risks were part of her love for him. And he sincerely appreciated both.

The two of them tried to stay together as much as possible, but that wasn’t always feasible—such as when Elend had discovered a koloss army marching on an indefensible city while Vin was away delivering orders to Penrod in Luthadel. Elend had hoped she would return to his army camp in time to find out where he had gone, then come help, but he hadn’t been able to wait. Not with thousands of lives at stake.

Thousands of lives . . . and more.

They eventually reached the gates. A crowd of soldiers who had either arrived late to the battle or been too afraid to charge stood atop the bulwark, looking down with awe. Several thousand koloss had gotten past Elend’s men and tried to attack the city. These now stood motionless—by his silent command—waiting outside the bulwark.

The soldiers opened the gates, letting in Vin, Elend, Fatren, and Vin’s single koloss servant. Most of them eyed Vin’s koloss with distrust—as well they should. She ordered it to put down the dead Inquisitor, then made it follow as the three of them walked down the ash-piled city street. Vin had a philosophy: the more people who saw koloss and grew accustomed to the creatures, the better. It made the people less frightened of the beasts, and made it easier to fight should they have to face koloss in battle.

They soon approached the Ministry building that Elend had first inspected upon entering the city. Vin’s koloss walked forward and began to rip the boards off of its doors.

“The Ministry building?” Fatren said. “What good is it? We already searched it.” Elend eyed him.

“My lord,” Fatren said belatedly.

“The Steel Ministry was linked directly to the Lord Ruler,” Elend said. “Its obligators were his eyes across the empire, and through them he controlled the nobility, watched over commerce, and made certain that orthodoxy was maintained.” The koloss yanked the door open. Moving inside, Elend burned tin, enhancing his eyesight so that he could see in the dim light. Vin, obviously doing the same, had little trouble picking her way across the broken boards and furniture littering the floor. Apparently, Fatren’s people hadn’t just “searched” the place—they’d ransacked it.

“Yeah, I know about obligators,” Fatren said. “There aren’t any of them here, my lord. They left with the nobility.” “The obligators saw to some very important projects, Fatren,” Elend said. “Things like trying to discover how to use new Allomantic metals, or like searching for lines of Terris blood that were breeding true. One of their projects is of particular interest to us.” “Here,” Vin said, calling out from beside something set in the floor. A hidden trapdoor.

Fatren glanced back toward the sunlight, perhaps wishing that he’d decided to bring a few soldiers with him. Beside the trapdoor, Vin lit a lantern she’d salvaged from somewhere. In the blackness of a basement, even tin wouldn’t provide sight. Vin opened the trapdoor, and they made their way down the ladder. It eventually ended in a wine cellar.

Elend walked to the center of the small cellar, surveying it as Vin began to check the walls. “I found it,” she said a second later, rapping her fist on a certain portion of the stone block wall. Elend walked forward, joining her. Sure enough, there was a thin slit in the stones, barely visible. Burning steel, Elend could see two faint blue lines pointing to metal plates hidden behind the stone. Two stronger lines pointed behind him, toward a large metal plate set into the wall, affixed very securely with enormous bolts bored into the stone.

“Ready?” Vin asked.

Elend nodded, flaring his iron. They both Pulled on the plate buried in the stone wall, steadying themselves by Pulling back against the plates on the back wall.

Not for the first time, the foresight of the Ministry impressed Elend. How could they have known that someday, a group of skaa would take control of this city? And yet, this door had not only been hidden—it had been crafted so that only someone with Allomancy could open it. Elend continued to Pull in both directions at once, feeling as if his body were being stretched between two horses. But, fortunately, he had the power of pewter to strengthen his body and keep it from ripping apart. Vin grunted in effort beside him, and soon a section of the wall began to slide open toward them. No amount of prying would have been able to wedge the thick stone open, and only a lengthy, arduous effort would have been enough to break through. Yet, with Allomancy, they opened the door in a matter of moments.

Finally, they let go. Vin exhaled in exhaustion, and Elend could tell that it had been more difficult for her than it was for him. Sometimes, he didn’t feel justified in having more power than she—after all, he’d been an Allomancer for far less time.

Vin picked up her lantern, and they moved into the now-open room. Like the other two Elend had seen, this cavern was enormous. It extended into the distance, their lantern’s light making only a faint dent in the blackness. Fatren gasped in wonder as he joined them in the doorway. The room was filled with shelves. Hundreds of them. Thousands of them.

“What is it?” Fatren asked.

“Food,” Elend said. “And basic supplies. Medicines, cloth, water.”

“So much,” Fatren said. “Here, all along . . .”

“Go get more men,” Elend said. “Soldiers. We’ll need them to guard the entrance, to keep people from breaking in and stealing the contents.” Fatren’s face hardened. “This place belongs to my people.”

“My people, Fatren,” Elend said, watching Vin walk into the room, bearing the light with her. “This city is mine, now, as are its contents.” “You came to rob us,” Fatren accused. “Just like the bandits who tried to take the city last year.” “No,” Elend said, turning toward the soot-stained man. “I came to conquer you. There’s a difference.” “I don’t see one.”

Elend gritted his teeth to keep himself from snapping at the man—the fatigue, the draining effect of leading an empire that seemed doomed—put him on edge so often lately. No, he told himself. Men like Fatren need more than another tyrant. They need someone to look up to.

Elend approached the man, and intentionally didn’t use emotional Allomancy on him. Soothing was effective in many situations, but it wore off quickly. It was not a method to make permanent allies.

“Lord Fatren,” Elend said. “I want you to think carefully about what you’re arguing for. What would happen if I did leave you? With this much food, this much wealth down here? Can you trust your people not to break in, your soldiers not to try selling some of this to other cities? What happens when the secret of your food supply gets out? Will you welcome the thousands of refugees who will come? Will you protect them, and this cavern, against the raiders and bandits who will follow?” Fatren fell silent.

Elend laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I meant what I said above, Lord Fatren. Your people fought well—I was very impressed. They owe their survival today to you—your foresight, your training. Mere hours ago, they assumed they would be slaughtered by koloss. Now, they are not only safe, but under the protection of a much larger army.

“Don’t fight this. You’ve struggled well, but it is time to have allies. I won’t lie to you—I’m going to take the contents of this cavern, whether you resist me or not. However, I intend to give you the protection of my armies, the stability of my food supplies, and my word of honor that you can continue to rule your people under me. We need to work together, Lord Fatren. That’s the only way any of us are going to survive the next few years.” Fatren looked up. “You’re right, of course,” he said. “I’ll go get those men you asked for, my lord.” “Thank you,” Elend said. “And, if you have anyone who can write, send them to me. We’ll need to catalogue what we have down here.” Fatren nodded, then left.

“Once, you couldn’t do things like that,” Vin said from a short distance away, her voice echoing in the large cavern.

“Like what?”

“Give a man such forceful commands,” she said. “Take control away from him. You’d have wanted to give these people a vote on whether or not they should join your empire.” Elend looked back at the doorway. He stood silently for a moment. He hadn’t used emotional Allomancy, and yet he felt as if he’d bullied Fatren anyway. “Sometimes, I feel like a failure, Vin. There should be another way.” “Not right now, there isn’t,” Vin said, walking up to him, putting a hand on his arm. “They need you, Elend. You know that they do.” He nodded. “I know it. I just can’t help thinking that a better man would have found a way to make the will of the people work along with his rule.” “You did,” she said. “Your parliamentary assembly still rules in Luthadel, and the kingdoms you reign over maintain basic rights and privileges for the skaa.” “Compromises,” Elend said. “They only get to do what they want as long as I don’t disagree with them.” “It’s enough. You have to be realistic, Elend.”

“When my friends and I met together, I was the one who spoke of the perfect dreams, of the great things we’d accomplish. I was always the idealist.” “Emperors don’t have that luxury,” Vin said quietly.

Elend looked at her, then sighed, turning away.

Vin stood, watching Elend in the cold lantern-light of the cavern. She hated seeing such regret, such . . . disillusionment in him. In a way, his current problems seemed even worse than the self-doubt he had once struggled with. He seemed to see himself as a failure despite what he had accomplished.

And yet, he didn’t let himself wallow in that failure. He moved on, working despite his regret. He was a harder man than he had once been. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. The old Elend had been a man who was easily dismissed by many—a genius who had wonderful ideas, but little ability to lead. Still, she missed some of what was gone. The simple idealism. Elend was still an optimist, and he was still a scholar, but both attributes seemed tempered by what he had been forced to endure.

She watched him move along one of the storage shelves, trailing a finger in the dust. He brought the finger up, looking at it for a moment, then snapped it, throwing a small burst of dust into the air. The beard made him look more rugged—like the wartime commander he had become. A year of solid training with Allomancy and the sword had strengthened his body, and he’d needed to get his uniforms retailored to fit properly. The one he wore now was still stained from battle.

“This place is amazing, isn’t it?” Elend asked.

Vin turned, glancing into the darkness of the storage cavern. “I suppose.”

“He knew, Vin,” Elend said. “The Lord Ruler. He suspected that this day would come—a day when the mists returned and food would be scarce. So, he prepared these supply depots.” Vin joined Elend beside a shelf. She knew from previous caverns that the food would still be good, much of it processed in one of the Lord Ruler’s canneries, and would remain so for years in storage. The amount in this cavern could feed the town above for years. Unfortunately, Vin and Elend had more to worry about than a single town.

“Imagine the effort this must have taken,” Elend said, turning over a can of stewed beef in his hand. “He would have had to rotate this food every few years, constantly packing and storing new supplies. And he did it for centuries, without anyone knowing what he was doing.” Vin shrugged. “It’s not so hard to keep secrets when you’re a god-emperor with a fanatical priesthood.” “Yes, but the effort . . . the sheer scope of it all . . .” Elend paused, looking at Vin. “You know what this means?” “What?”

“The Lord Ruler thought it could be beaten. The Deepness, the thing that we released. The Lord Ruler thought he could eventually win.” Vin snorted. “It doesn’t have to mean that, Elend.”

“Then why go through all of this? He must have thought that fighting wasn’t hopeless.” “People struggle, Elend. Even a dying beast will still keep fighting, will do anything to stay alive.” “You have to admit that these caverns are a good sign, though,” Elend said.

“A good sign?” Vin asked quietly, stepping closer. “Elend, I know you’re just trying to find hope in all this, but I have trouble seeing ‘good signs’ anywhere lately. You have to admit now that the sun is getting darker. Redder. It’s even worse down here, in the South.” “Actually,” Elend said, “I doubt that the sun has changed at all. It must be all the smoke and ash in the air.” “Which is another problem,” Vin said. “The ash falls almost perpetually now. People are having trouble keeping it out of their streets. It blots out the light, making everything darker. Even if the mists don’t kill off next year’s crops, the ash will. Two winters ago—when we fought the koloss at Luthadel—was the first I’d seen snow in the Central Dominance, and this last winter was even worse. These aren’t things we can fight, Elend, no matter how big our army!” “What do you expect me to do, Vin?” Elend asked, slamming his can of stew down on the shelf. “The koloss are gathering in the Outer Dominances. If we don’t build our defenses, our people won’t last long enough to starve.” Vin shook her head. “Armies are short-term. This,” she said, sweeping her hand across the cavern. “This is short-term. What are we doing here?” “We’re surviving. Kelsier said—”

“Kelsier is dead, Elend!” Vin snapped. “Am I the only one who sees the irony in that? We call him the Survivor, but he is the one who didn’t survive! He let himself become a martyr. He committed suicide. How is that surviving?” She stood for a moment, looking at Elend, breathing deeply. He stared back, apparently undaunted by her outburst.

What am I doing? Vin thought. I was just thinking about how much I admired Elend’s hope. Why argue with him now?

They were stretched so thin. Both of them.

“I don’t have answers for you, Vin,” Elend said in the dark cavern. “I can’t even begin to understand how to fight something like the mist. Armies, however, I can deal with. Or, at least, I’m learning how.” “I’m sorry,” Vin said, turning away. “I didn’t mean to argue again. It’s just so frustrating.” “We’re making progress,” Elend said. “We’ll find a way, Vin. We’ll survive.”

“Do you really think we can do it?” Vin asked, turning to look him in the eyes.

“Yes,” Elend said.

And she believed him. He had hope, and always would. That was a big part of why she loved him so much.

“Come on,” Elend said, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s find what we came for.” Vin joined him, leaving her koloss behind, walking into the depths of the cavern as they heard footsteps outside. There was more than one reason they had come to this place. The food and the supplies—of which they passed seemingly endless shelves—were important. However, there was more.

A large metal plate was set into the back wall of the rough-hewn cavern. Vin read the words inscribed on it out loud.

“ ‘This is the last metal I will tell you about,’ ” she read. “ ‘I have trouble deciding the purpose of it. It allows you to see the past, in a way. What a person could have been, and who they might have become, had they made different choices. Much like gold, but for others.

“ ‘By now, the mists have likely come again. Such a foul, hateful thing. Scorn it. Don’t go out in it. It seeks to destroy us all. If there is trouble, know that you can control the koloss and the kandra by use of several people Pushing on their emotions at once. I built this weakness into them. Keep the secret wisely.’ ” Beneath that was listed an Allomantic compound of metals, one with which Vin was already familiar. It was the alloy of atium they called malatium—Kelsier’s Eleventh Metal. So the Lord Ruler had known about it. He’d simply been as baffled as the rest of them as to its purpose.

The plate had been written by the Lord Ruler, of course. Or, at least, he’d ordered it written as it was. Each previous cache had also contained information, written in steel. In Urteau, for instance, she had learned about electrum. In the one to the east, they’d found a description of aluminum—though they’d already known about that metal.

“Not much new there,” Elend said, sounding disappointed. “We already knew about malatium and about controlling koloss. Though, I’d never thought to have several Soothers Push at the same time. That might be helpful.” Before, they’d thought it took a Mistborn burning duralumin to get control of koloss.

“It doesn’t matter,” Vin said, pointing at the other side of the plate. “We have that.” The other half of the plate contained a map, carved into steel, just like the maps they had found in the other three storage caverns. It depicted the Final Empire, divided into dominances. Luthadel was a square at the center. An “X” to the east marked the main thing they’d come looking for: the location of the final cavern.

There were five, they thought. They’d found the first one beneath Luthadel, near the Well of Ascension. It had given the location of the second, to the east. The third had been in Urteau—Vin had been able to sneak into that one, but they hadn’t managed to recover the food yet. That one had led them here, to the south.

Each map had two numbers on it—a five and a lower number. Luthadel had been number one. This one was number four.

“That’s it,” Vin said, running her fingers along the carved inscriptions on the plate. “In the Western Dominance, as you guessed. Somewhere near Chardees?” “Fadrex City,” Elend said.

“Cett’s home?”

Elend nodded. He knew far more about geography than she.

“That’s the place, then,” Vin said. “The one where it is.”

Elend met her eyes, and she knew he understood her. The caches had grown progressively larger and more valuable. Each one had a specialized aspect to it as well—the first had contained weapons in addition to its other supplies, while the second had contained large amounts of lumber. As they’d investigated each successive cache, they’d grown more and more excited about what the last one might contain. Something spectacular, surely. Perhaps even it.

The Lord Ruler’s atium cache.

It was the most valuable treasure in the Final Empire. Despite years of searching, nobody had ever located it. Some said it didn’t even exist. But, Vin felt that it had to. Despite a thousand years of controlling the sole mine that produced the extremely rare metal, he had allowed only a small portion of atium to enter the economy. Nobody knew what the Lord Ruler had done with the greater portion he had kept to himself for all those centuries.

“Now, don’t get too excited,” Elend said. “We have no proof that we’ll find the atium in that final cavern.” “It has to be there,” Vin said. “It makes sense. Where else would the Lord Ruler store his atium?” “If I could answer that, we’d have found it.”

Vin shook her head. “He put it somewhere safe, but somewhere where it would eventually be found. He left these maps as clues to his followers, should he—somehow—be defeated. He didn’t want an enemy who captured one of the caverns to be able to find them all instantly.” A trail of clues that led to one, final cache. The most important one. It made sense. It had to. Elend didn’t look convinced. He rubbed his bearded chin, studying the reflective plate in their lantern light. “Even if we find it,” he said, “I don’t know that it will help that much. What good is money to us now?” “It’s more than money,” she said. “It’s power. A weapon we can use to fight.”

“Fight the mists?” he asked.

Vin fell silent. “Perhaps not,” she finally said. “But the koloss, and the other armies. With that atium, your empire becomes secure. . . . Plus, atium is part of all this, Elend. It’s only valuable because of Allomancy—but Allomancy didn’t exist until the Ascension.” “Another unanswered question,” Elend said. “Why did that nugget of metal I ingested make me Mistborn? Where did it come from? Why was it placed at the Well of Ascension, and by whom? Why was there only one left, and what happened to the others?” “Maybe we’ll find the answer once we take Fadrex,” Vin said.

Elend nodded. She could tell he considered the information contained in the caches the most important reason to track them down, followed closely by the supplies. To him, the possibility of finding atium was relatively unimportant. Vin couldn’t explain why she felt he was so wrong in this regard. The atium was important. She just knew it. Her earlier despair lightened as she looked over the map. They had to go to Fadrex. She knew it.

The answers would be there.

“Taking Fadrex won’t be easy,” Elend noted. “Cett’s enemies have entrenched themselves quite solidly there. I hear a former Ministry obligator is in charge.” “The atium will be worth it,” Vin said.

“If it’s there,” Elend said.

She gave him a flat stare.

He held up a hand. “I’m just trying to do what you told me, Vin—I’m trying to be realistic. However, I agree that Fadrex will be worth the effort. Even if the atium isn’t there, we need the supplies in that store. We need to know what the Lord Ruler left us.” Vin nodded. She herself no longer had any atium. She’d burned up their last bit a year and a half ago, and she’d never gotten used to how exposed she felt without it. Electrum softened that fear somewhat, but not completely.

Voices sounded from the other end of the cavern, and Elend turned. “I should go speak to them,” he said. “We’re going to have to organize things in here quickly.” “Have you told them yet that we’re going to have to move them back to Luthadel?” Elend shook his head. “They won’t like it,” he said. “They’re becoming independent, as I always hoped they would.” “It has to be done, Elend,” Vin said. “This city is well outside our defensive perimeter. Plus, they can’t have more than a few hours of mistless daylight left this far out. Their crops are already doomed.” Elend nodded, but he continued to stare out into the darkness. “I come, I seize control of their city, take their treasure, then force them to abandon their homes. And from here we go to Fadrex to conquer another.” “Elend—”

He held up a hand. “I know, Vin. It must be done.” He turned, leaving the lantern and walking toward the doorway. As he did, his posture straightened, and his face became more firm.

Vin turned back to the plate, rereading the Lord Ruler’s words. On a different plate, much like this one, Sazed had found the words of Kwaan, the long-dead Terrisman who had changed the world by claiming to have found the Hero of Ages. Kwaan had left his words as a confession of his errors, warning that some kind of force was working to change the histories and religions of mankind. He’d worried that the force was suborning the Terris religion in order to cause a “Hero” to come to the North and release it.

That was exactly what Vin had done. She’d called herself hero, and had released the enemy—all the while thinking that she was sacrificing her own needs for the good of the world.

She ran her fingers across the large plate.

We have to do more than just fight wars! she thought, angry at the Lord Ruler. If you knew so much, why didn’t you leave us more than this? A few maps in scattered halls filled with supplies? A couple of paragraphs, telling us about metals that are of barely any use? What good is a cave full of food when we have an entire empire to feed!

Vin stopped. Her fingers—made far more sensitive by the tin she was burning to help her eyesight in the dark cavern—brushed against grooves in the plate’s surface. She knelt, leaning close, to find a short inscription carved in the metal, at the bottom, the letters much smaller than the ones up above.

Be careful what you speak, it read. It can hear what you say. It can read what you write. Only your thoughts are safe.

Vin shivered.

Only your thoughts are safe.

What had the Lord Ruler learned in his moments of transcendence? What things had he kept in his mind forever, never writing them down for fear of revealing his knowledge, always expecting that he would eventually be the one who took the power when it came again? Had he, perhaps, planned to use that power to destroy the thing that Vin had released?

You have doomed yourselves. . . . The Lord Ruler’s last words, spoken right before Vin had thrust the spear through his heart. He’d known. Even then—before the mists had started coming during the day, before she’d begun hearing the strange thumpings that led her to the Well of Ascension—even then, she’d worried.

Be careful what you speak . . . only your thoughts are safe.

I have to figure this out. I have to connect what we have, find the way to defeat—or outwit—this thing that I’ve loosed.

And I can’t talk this over with anyone, or it will know what I’m planning.

Rashek soon found a balance in the changes he made to the world—which was fortunate, for his power burned away quite quickly. Though the power he held seemed immense to him, it was truly only a tiny fraction of something much greater.

Of course, he did end up naming himself the “Sliver of Infinity” in his religion. Perhaps he understood more than I give him credit for.

Either way, we had him to thank for a world without flowers, where plants grew brown rather than green, and where people could survive in an environment where ash fell from the sky on a regular basis.