فصل 42

42

“Good,” Elend said, using a charcoal stick to circle another section on the city map before him. “What about here?” Demoux scratched his chin. “Grainfield? That’s a nobleman’s neighborhood, my lord.” “It used to be,” Elend said. “Grainfield was filled with cousin houses to the Ventures. When my father pulled out of the city, so did most of them.” “Then we’ll probably find the homes filled with skaa transients, I’d guess.” Elend nodded. “Move them out.”

“Excuse me, my lord?” Demoux said. The two stood in Keep Venture’s large carriage landing. Soldiers moved in a bustle through the spacious room. Many of them didn’t wear uniforms; they weren’t on official city business. Elend was no longer king, but they had still come at his request.

That said something, at least.

“We need to move the skaa out of those homes,” Elend continued. “Noblemen’s houses are mostly stone mansions with a lot of small rooms. They’re extremely hard to heat, requiring a separate hearth or a stove for every room. The skaa tenements are depressing, but they have massive hearths and open rooms.” Demoux nodded slowly.

“The Lord Ruler couldn’t have his workers freezing,” Elend said. “Those tenements are the best way to efficiently look after a large population of people with limited resources.” “I understand, my lord,” Demoux said.

“Don’t force them, Demoux,” Elend said. “My personal guard—even augmented with army volunteers—has no official authority in the city. If a family wants to stay in their pilfered aristocratic house, let them. Just make certain that they know there’s an alternative to freezing.” Demoux nodded, then moved over to pass on the commands. Elend turned as a messenger arrived. The man had to weave his way through an organized jumble of soldiers receiving orders and making plans.

Elend nodded to the newcomer. “You’re on the demolitions scout group, correct?” The man nodded as he bowed. He wasn’t in uniform; he was a soldier, not one of Elend’s guards. He was a younger man, with a square jaw, balding head, and honest smile.

“Don’t I know you?” Elend said.

“I helped you a year ago, my lord,” the man said. “I led you into the Lord Ruler’s palace to help rescue Lady Vin….” “Goradel,” Elend said, remembering. “You used to be in the Lord Ruler’s personal guard.” The man nodded. “I joined up in your army after that day. Seemed like the thing to do.” Elend smiled. “Not my army anymore, Goradel, but I do appreciate you coming to help us today. What’s your report?” “You were right, my lord,” Goradel said, “the skaa have already robbed the empty homes for furniture. But, not many thought of the walls. A good half of the abandoned mansions have wooden walls on the inside, and a lot of the tenements were made of wood. Most all of them have wooden roofs.” “Good,” Elend said. He surveyed the gathering mass of men. He hadn’t told them his plans; he’d simply asked for volunteers to help him with some manual labor. He hadn’t expected the response to number in the hundreds.

“It looks like we’re gathering quite a group, my lord,” Demoux said, rejoining Elend.

Elend nodded, giving leave for Goradel to withdraw. “We’ll be able to try an even more ambitious project than I’d planned.” “My lord,” Demoux said. “Are you certain you want to start tearing the city down around ourselves?” “We either lose buildings or we lose people, Demoux,” Elend said. “The buildings go.” “And if the king tries to stop us?”

“Then we obey,” Elend said. “But I don’t think Lord Penrod will object. He’s too busy trying to get a bill through the Assembly that hands the city over to my father. Besides, it’s probably better for him to have these men here, working, than it is to have them sitting and worrying in the barracks.” Demoux fell silent. Elend did as well; both knew how precarious their position was. Only a short time had passed since the assassination attempt and the transfer of power, and the city was in shock. Cett was still holed up inside of Keep Hasting, and his armies had moved into position to attack the city. Luthadel was like a man with a knife pressed very closely to his throat. Each breath cut the skin.

I can’t do much about that now, Elend thought. I have to make certain the people don’t freeze these next few nights. He could feel the bitter cold, despite the daylight, his cloak, and the shelter. There were a lot of people in Luthadel, but if he could get enough men tearing down enough buildings, he just might be able to do some good.

“My lord!”

Elend turned as a short man with a drooping mustache approached. “Ah, Felt,” he said. “You have news?” The man was working on the poisoned-food problem—specifically how the city was being breached.

The scout nodded. “I do indeed, my lord. We interrogated the refugees with a Rioter, and we came up dry. Then, however, I started thinking. The refugees seemed too obvious to me. Strangers in the city? Of course they’d be the first ones we’d suspect. I figured, with how much has been going wrong with the wells and the food and the like, someone has to be sneaking in and out of the city.” Elend nodded. They’d been watching Cett’s soldiers inside Keep Hasting very carefully, and none of them was responsible. Straff’s Mistborn was still a possibility, but Vin had never believed that he was behind the poisoning. Elend hoped that the trail—if it could be found—would lead back to someone in his own palace, hopefully revealing who on his serving staff had been replaced by a kandra.

“Well?” Elend asked.

“I interrogated the people who run passwalls,” Felt continued. “I don’t think they’re to blame.” “Passwalls?”

Felt nodded. “Covert passages out of the city. Tunnels or the like.” “Such things exist?” Elend asked with surprise.

“Of course, my lord,” Felt said. “Moving between cities was very difficult for skaa thieves during the Lord Ruler’s reign. Everyone who entered Luthadel was subject to interview and interrogation. So, ways to get into the city covertly were very prevalent. Most of those have shut down—the ones who used to lower people up and down by ropes over the walls. A few are still running, but I don’t think they are letting the spies in. Once that first well was poisoned, the passwalls all got paranoid that you’d come after them. Since then, they’ve only been letting people out of the city—ones who want to run from the besieged city and the like.” Elend frowned. He wasn’t certain what he thought of the fact that people were disobeying his order that the gates be shut, with no passage out.

“Next,” Felt said, “I tried the river.”

“We thought of that,” Elend said. “The grates covering the water are all secure.” Felt smiled. “That they are. I sent some men down under the water to search about, and we found several locks down below, keeping the river grates in place.” “What?”

“Someone pried the grates free, my lord,” Felt said, “then locked them back into place so it wouldn’t look suspicious. That way, they could swim in and out at their leisure.” Elend raised an eyebrow.

“You want us to replace the grates?” Felt asked.

“No,” Elend said. “No, just replace those locks with new ones, then post men to watch. Next time those prisoners try and get into the city, I want them to find themselves trapped.” Felt nodded, retreating with a happy smile on his face. His talents as a spy hadn’t been put to much good use lately, and he seemed to be enjoying the tasks Elend was giving him. Elend made a mental note to think about putting Felt to work on locating the kandra spy—assuming, of course, that Felt himself wasn’t the spy.

“My lord,” Demoux said, approaching. “I think I might be able to offer a second opinion on how the poisonings are occurring.” Elend turned. “Oh?”

Demoux nodded, waving for a man to approach from the side of the room. He was younger, perhaps eighteen, and had the dirty face and clothing of a skaa worker.

“This is Larn,” Demoux said. “A member of my congregation.”

The young man bowed to Elend, posture nervous.

“You may speak, Larn,” Demoux said. “Tell Lord Venture what you saw.” “Well, my lord,” the young man said. “I tried to go tell this to the king. The new king, I mean.” He flushed, embarrassed.

“It’s all right,” Elend said. “Continue.”

“Well, the men there turned me away. Said the king didn’t have time for me. So, I came to Lord Demoux. I figured he might believe me.” “About what?” Elend asked.

“Inquisitor, my lord,” the man said quietly. “I saw one in the city.” Elend felt a chill. “You’re sure?”

The young man nodded. “I’ve lived in Luthadel all my life, my lord. Watched executions a number of times. I’d recognize one of those monsters, sure I would. I saw him. Spikes through the eyes, tall and robed, slinking about at night. Near the center squares of the city. I promise you.” Elend shared a look with Demoux.

“He’s not the only one, my lord,” Demoux said quietly. “Some other members of my congregation claimed to have seen an Inquisitor hanging around Kredik Shaw. I dismissed the first few, but Larn, he’s trustworthy. If he said he saw something, he did. Eyes nearly as good as a Tineye, that one.” Elend nodded slowly, and ordered a patrol from his personal guard to keep watch in the area indicated. After that, he turned his attention back to the wood-gathering effort. He gave the orders, organizing the men into teams, sending some to begin working, others to gather recruits. Without fuel, many of the city’s forges had shut down, and the workers were idle. They could use something to occupy their time.

Elend saw energy in the men’s eyes as they began to split up. Elend knew that determination, that firmness of eye and arm. It came from the satisfaction of doing something, of not just sitting around and waiting for fate—or kings—to act.

Elend turned back to the map, making a few notations. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ham saunter in. “So this is where they all went!” Ham said. “The sparring grounds are empty.” Elend looked up, smiling.

“You’re back to the uniform, then?” Ham asked.

Elend glanced down at his white outfit. Designed to stand out, to set him apart from a city stained by ash. “Yes.” “Too bad,” Ham said with a sigh. “Nobody should have to wear a uniform.” Elend raised an eyebrow. In the face of undeniable winter, Ham had finally taken to wearing a shirt beneath his vest. He wore no cloak or coat, however.

Elend turned back to the map. “The clothing suits me,” he said. “It just feels right. Anyway, that vest of yours is as much a uniform as this is.” “No it’s not.”

“Oh?” Elend asked. “Nothing screams Thug like a man who goes about in the winter without a coat, Ham. You’ve used your clothing to change how people react to you, to let them know who you are and what you represent—which is essentially what a uniform does.” Ham paused. “That’s an interesting way of looking at it.”

“What?” Elend said. “You never argued about something like this with Breeze?” Ham shook his head as he turned to look over the groups of men, listening to the men Elend had appointed to give orders.

He’s changed, Elend thought. Running this city, dealing with all of this, it’s even changed him. The Thug was more solemn, now—more focused. Of course, he had even more stake in the city’s safety than the rest of the crew. It was sometimes hard to remember that the free-spirited Thug was a family man. Ham tended to not talk much about Mardra or his two children. Elend suspected it was habit; Ham had spent much of his marriage living apart from his family in order to keep them safe.

This whole city is my family, Elend thought, watching the soldiers leave to do their work. Some might have thought something as simple as gathering firewood to be a mundane task, of little relevance in a city threatened by three armies. However, Elend knew that the freezing skaa people would receive the fuel with as much appreciation as they would salvation from the armies.

The truth was that Elend felt a little like his soldiers did. He felt a satisfaction—a thrill even—from doing something, anything, to help.

“What if Cett’s attack comes?” Ham said, still looking over the soldiers. “A good portion of the army will be out scattered through the city.” “Even if we have a thousand men in my teams, that’s not much of a dent in our forces. Besides, Clubs thinks there will be plenty of time to gather them. We’ve got messengers set up.” Elend looked back at his map. “Anyway, I don’t think Cett’s going to attack just yet. He’s pretty safe in that keep, there. We’ll never take him—we’d have to pull too many men away from the city defenses, leaving ourselves exposed. The only thing he really has to worry about is my father…” Elend trailed off.

“What?” Ham said.

“That’s why Cett is here,” Elend said, blinking in surprise. “Don’t you see? He intentionally left himself without options. If Straff attacks, Cett’s armies will end up fighting alongside our own. He’s locked in his fate with ours.” Ham frowned. “Seems like a pretty desperate move.”

Elend nodded, thinking back to his meeting with Cett. “’Desperate,’” he said. “That’s a good word. Cett is desperate for some reason—one I haven’t been able to figure out. Anyway, by putting himself in here, he sides with us against Straff—whether we want the alliance or not.” “But, what if the Assembly gives the city to Straff? If our men join with him and attack Cett?” “That’s the gamble he took,” Elend said. Cett never intended to be able to walk away from the confrontation here in Luthadel. He intends to take the city or be destroyed.

He is waiting, hoping Straff will attack, worrying that we’ll just give into him. But neither can happen as long as Straff is afraid of Vin. A three-way standoff. With the koloss as a fourth element that nobody can predict.

Someone needed to do something to tip the scales. “Demoux,” Elend said. “Are you ready to take over here?” Captain Demoux looked over, nodding.

Elend turned to Ham. “I have a question for you, Ham.”

Ham raised an eyebrow.

“How insane are you feeling at the moment?

Elend led his horse out of the tunnel into the scraggly landscape outside of Luthadel. He turned, craning to look up at the wall. Hopefully, the soldiers there had gotten his message, and wouldn’t mistake him for a spy or a scout of one of the enemy armies. He’d rather not end up in Tindwyl’s histories as the ex-king who’d died by an arrow from one of his own men.

Ham led a small, grizzled woman from the tunnel. As Elend had guessed, Ham had easily found a suitable passwall to get them out of the city.

“Well, there you go,” said the elderly woman, resting on her cane.

“Thank you, good woman,” Elend said. “You have served your dominance well this day.” The woman snorted, raising an eyebrow—though, from what Elend could tell, she was quite nearly blind. Elend smiled, pulling out a pouch and handing it to her. She reached into it with gnarled, but surprisingly dexterous, fingers and counted out the contents. “Three extra?” “To pay you to leave a scout here,” Elend said. “To watch for our return.” “Return?” the woman asked. “You aren’t running?”

“No,” Elend said. “I just have some business with one of the armies.” The woman raised the eyebrow again. “Well, none of Granny’s business,” she muttered, turning back down the hole with a tapping cane. “For three clips, I can find a grandson to sit out here for a few hours. Lord Ruler knows, I have enough of them.” Ham watched her go, a spark of fondness in his eyes.

“How long have you known about this place?” Elend asked, watching as a couple of burly men pulled closed the hidden section of stone. Half burrowed, half cut from the wall’s stones themselves, the tunnel was a remarkable feat. Even after hearing about the existence of such things from Felt earlier, it was still a shock to travel through one hidden not a few minutes’ ride from Keep Venture itself.

Ham turned back to him as the false wall snapped shut. “Oh, I’ve known of this for years and years,” he said. “Granny Hilde used to give me sweets when I was a kid. Of course, that was really just a cheap way of getting some quiet—yet well-targeted—publicity for her passwall. When I was grown, I used to use this to sneak Mardra and the kids in and out of the city when they came to visit.” “Wait,” Elend said. “You grew up in Luthadel?”

“Of course.”

“On the streets, like Vin?”

Ham shook his head. “Not really like Vin,” he said in a subdued voice, scanning the wall. “I don’t really think anyone grew up like Vin. I had skaa parents—my grandfather was the nobleman. I was involved with the underground, but I had my parents for a good portion of my childhood. Besides, I was a boy—and a large one.” He turned toward Elend. “I suspect that makes a big difference.” Elend nodded.

“You’re not going to shut this place down, are you?” Ham asked.

Elend turned with shock. “Why would I?”

Ham shrugged. “It doesn’t exactly seem like the kind of honest enterprise that you would approve of. There are probably people fleeing from the city nightly through this hole. Granny Hilde is known to take coin and not ask questions—even if she does grumble at you a bit.” Ham did have a point. Probably why he didn’t tell me about the place until I specifically asked. His friends walked a fine line, close to their old ties with the underground, yet working hard to build up the government they’d sacrificed so much to create.

“I’m not king,” Elend said, leading his horse away from the city. “What Granny Hilde does isn’t any of my business.” Ham moved up beside him, looking relieved. Elend could see that relief dissipate, however, as the reality of what they were doing settled in. “I don’t like this, El.” They stopped walking as Elend mounted. “Neither do I.”

Ham took a deep breath, then nodded.

My old nobleman friends would have tried to talk me out of this, Elend thought with amusement. Why did I surround myself with people who had been loyal to the Survivor? They expect their leaders to take irrational risks.

“I’ll go with you,” Ham said.

“No,” Elend said. “It won’t make a difference. Stay here, wait to see if I get back. If I don’t, tell Vin what happened.” “Sure, I’ll tell her,” Ham said wryly. “Then I’ll proceed to remove her daggers from my chest. Just make sure you come back, all right?” Elend nodded, barely paying attention. His eyes were focused on the army in the distance. An army without tents, carriages, food carts, or servants. An army who had eaten the foliage to the ground in a wide swath around them. Koloss.

Sweat made the reins slick in Elend’s hands. This was different from before, when he’d gone into Straff’s army and Cett’s keep. This time he was alone. Vin couldn’t get him out if things went bad; she was still recovering from her wounds, and nobody knew what Elend was doing but Ham.

What do I owe the people of this city? Elend thought. They rejected me. Why do I still insist on trying to protect them?

“I recognize that look, El,” Ham said. “Let’s go back.”

Elend closed his eyes, letting out a quiet sigh. Then he snapped his eyes open and kicked his horse into a gallop.

It had been years since he’d seen koloss, and that experience had come only at his father’s insistence. Straff hadn’t trusted the creatures, and had never liked having garrisons of them in the Northern Dominance, one just a few days’ march from his home city of Urteau. Those koloss had been a reminder, a warning, from the Lord Ruler.

Elend rode his horse hard, as if using its momentum to bolster his own will. Aside from one brief visit to the Urteau koloss garrison, everything he knew of the creatures came from books—but Tindwyl’s instruction had weakened his once absolute, and slightly naive, trust in his learning.

It will have to be enough, Elend thought as he approached the camp. He gritted his teeth, slowing his animal as he approached a wandering squad of Koloss.

It was as he remembered. One large creature—its skin revoltingly split and cracked by stretch marks—led a few medium-sized beasts, whose bleeding rips were only beginning to appear at the corners of their mouths and the edges of their eyes. A smattering of smaller creatures—their baggy skin loose and sagging beneath their eyes and arms—accompanied their betters.

Elend reined in his horse, trotting it over to the largest beast. “Take me to Jastes.” “Get off your horse,” the koloss said.

Elend looked the creature directly in the eyes. Atop his horse, he was nearly the same height. “Take me to Jastes.” The koloss regarded him with a set of beady, unreadable eyes. It bore a rip from one eye to the other, above the nose, a secondary rip curving down to one of the nostrils. The nose itself was pulled so tight it was twisted and flattened, held to the bone a few inches off-center.

This was the moment. The books said the creature would either do as commanded or simply attack him. Elend sat tensely.

“Come,” the koloss snapped, turning to walk back toward the camp. The rest of the creatures surrounded Elend’s horse, and the beast shuffled nervously. Elend kept a tight hold on his reins and nudged the animal forward. It responded skittishly.

He should have felt good at his small victory, but his tension only increased. They moved forward into the koloss camp. It was like being swallowed. Like letting a rockslide collapse around you. Koloss looked up as he passed, watching him with their red, emotionless eyes. Many others just stood silently around their cooking fires, unresponsive, like men who had been born dull-minded and witless.

Others fought. They killed each other, wrestling on the ground before their uncaring companions. No philosopher, scientist, or scholar had been able to determine exactly what set off a koloss. Greed seemed a good motivation. Yet, they would sometimes attack when there was plenty of food, killing a companion for his hunk of beef. Pain was another good motivator, apparently, as was a challenge to authority. Carnal, visceral reasons. And yet, there seemed to be times when they attacked without any cause or reason.

And after fighting, they would explain themselves in calm tones, as if their actions were perfectly rational. Elend shivered as he heard yells, telling himself that he would probably be all right until he reached Jastes. Koloss usually just attacked each other.

Unless they got into a blood frenzy.

He pushed that thought away, instead focusing on the things that Sazed had mentioned about his trip into the koloss camp. The creatures wore the wide, brutish iron swords that Sazed had described. The bigger the koloss, the bigger the weapon. When a koloss reached a size where he thought he needed a larger sword, he had only two choices: find one that had been discarded, or kill someone and take theirs. A koloss population could often be crudely controlled by increasing or decreasing the number of swords available to the group.

None of the scholars knew how the creatures bred.

As Sazed had explained, these koloss also had strange little pouches tied to their sword straps. What are they? Elend thought. Sazed said he saw the largest koloss carrying three or four. But that one leading my group has almost twenty. Even the small koloss in Elend’s group had three pouches.

That’s the difference, he thought. Whatever is in those pouches, could it be the way Jastes controls the creatures?

There was no way to know, save begging one of the pouches off a koloss—and he doubted they would let them go.

As he walked, he noticed another oddity: some of the koloss were wearing clothing. Before, he’d seen them only in loincloths, as Sazed had reported. Yet, many of these koloss had pants, shirts, or skirts pulled onto their bodies. They wore the clothing without regard for size, and most pieces were so tight they had torn. Others were so loose they had to be tied on. Elend saw a few of the larger koloss wearing garments like bandanas tied around their arms or heads.

“We are not koloss,” the lead koloss suddenly said, turning to Elend as they walked.

Elend frowned. “Explain.”

“You think we are koloss,” it said through lips that were stretched too tightly to work properly. “We are humans. We will live in your city. We will kill you, and we will take it.” Elend shivered, realizing the source of the mismatched garments. They had come from the village that the koloss had attacked, the one whose refugees had trickled into Luthadel. This appeared to be a new development in koloss thinking. Or, had it always been there, repressed by the Lord Ruler? The scholar in Elend was fascinated. The rest of him was simply horrified.

His koloss guide paused before a small group of tents, the only such structures in the camp. Then the lead koloss turned and yelled, startling Elend’s horse. Elend fought to keep his mount from throwing him as the koloss jumped and attacked one of its companions, proceeding to pummel it with a massive fist.

Elend won his struggle. The lead koloss, however, did not.

Elend climbed off his horse, patting the beast on the neck as the victimized koloss pulled his sword from the chest of his former leader. The survivor—who now bore several cuts in his skin that hadn’t come from stretching—bent down to harvest the pouches tied to the corpse’s back. Elend watched with a muted fascination as the koloss stood and spoke.

“He was never a good leader,” it said in a slurred voice.

I can’t let these monsters attack my city, Elend thought. I have to do something. He pulled his horse forward, turning his back on the koloss as he entered the secluded section of camp, watched over by a group of nervous young men in uniforms. Elend handed his reins to one of them.

“Take care of this for me,” Elend said, striding forward.

“Wait!” one of the soldiers said. “Halt!”

Elend turned sharply, facing the shorter man, who was trying to both level his spear at Elend and keep an eye on the koloss. Elend didn’t try to be harsh; he just wanted to keep his own anxiety under control and keep moving. Either way, the resulting glare probably would have impressed even Tindwyl.

The soldier jerked to a halt.

“I am Elend Venture,” Elend said. “You know that name?”

The man nodded.

“You may announce me to Lord Lekal,” Elend said. “Just get to the tent before I do.” The young man took off at a dash. Elend followed, striding up to the tent, where other soldiers stood hesitantly.

What must it have done to them, Elend wondered, living surrounded by koloss, so terribly outnumbered? Feeling a stab of pity, he didn’t try to bully his way in. He stood with faux patience until a voice called from inside. “Let him in.” Elend brushed past the guards and threw open the tent flap.

The months had not been kind to Jastes Lekal. Somehow, the few wisps of hair on his head looked far more pathetic than complete baldness would have. His suit was sloppy and stained, his eyes underlined by a pair of deep bags. He was pacing, and jumped slightly when Elend entered.

Then he froze for a moment, eyes wide. Finally, he raised a quivering hand to push back hair he didn’t have. “Elend?” he asked. “What in the Lord Ruler’s name happened to you?” “Responsibility, Jastes,” Elend said quietly. “It appears that neither of us were ready for it.” “Out,” Jastes said, waving to his guards. They shuffled past Elend, closing the tent flap behind them.

“It’s been a while, Elend,” Jastes said, chuckling weakly.

Elend nodded.

“I remember those days,” Jastes said, “sitting in your den or mine, sharing a drink with Telden. We were so innocent, weren’t we?” “Innocent,” Elend said, “but hopeful.”

“Want something to drink?” Jastes said, turning toward the room’s desk. Elend eyed the bottles and flasks lying in the corner of the room. They were all empty. Jastes removed a full bottle from the desk and poured Elend a small cup, the size and clear color an indication that this was no simple dinner wine.

Elend accepted the small cup, but did not drink. “What happened, Jastes? How did the clever, thoughtful philosopher I knew turn into a tyrant?” “Tyrant?” Jastes snapped, downing his cup in a single shot. “I’m no tyrant. Your father’s the tyrant. I’m just a realist.” “Sitting at the center of a koloss army doesn’t seem to be a very realistic position to me.” “I can control them.”

“And Suisna?” Elend asked. “The village they slaughtered?”

Jastes wavered. “That was an unfortunate accident.”

Elend looked down at the drink in his hand, then threw it aside, the liquor splashing on the dusty tent floor. “This isn’t my father’s den, and we are not friends any longer. I will call no man friend who leads something like this against my city. What happened to your honor, Jastes Lekal?” Jastes snorted, glancing at the spilled liquor. “That’s always been the problem with you, Elend. So certain, so optimistic, so self-righteous.” “It was our optimism,” Elend said, stepping forward. “We wanted to change things, Jastes, not destroy them!” “Is that so?” Jastes countered, showing a temper Elend had never seen in his friend. “You want to know why I’m here, Elend? Did you even pay attention to what was happening in the Southern Dominance while you played in Luthadel?” “I’m sorry about what happened to your family, Jastes.”

“Sorry?” Jastes said, snatching the bottle off his desk. “You’re sorry? I implemented your plans, Elend. I did everything we talked about—freedom, political honesty. I trusted my allies rather than crushing them into submission. And you know what happened?” Elend closed his eyes.

“They killed everyone, Elend,” Jastes said. “That’s what you do when you take over. You kill your rivals and their families—even the young girls, even the babies. And you leave their bodies, as a warning. That’s good politics. That’s how you stay in power!” “It’s easy to believe in something when you win all the time, Jastes,” Elend said, opening his eyes. “The losses are what define a man’s faith.” “Losses?” Jastes demanded. “My sister was a loss?”

“No, I mean—”

“Enough!” Jastes snapped, slamming the bottle down on his desk. “Guards!” Two men threw back the tent flap and moved into the room.

“Take His Majesty captive,” Jastes said, with an unsteady wave of his hand. “Send a messenger to the city, tell them that we want to negotiate.” “I’m not king anymore, Jastes,” Elend said.

Jastes stopped.

“Do you think I’d come here and let myself get captured if I were king?” Elend asked. “They deposed me. The Assembly invoked a no-confidence clause and chose a new king.” “You bloody idiot,” Jastes said.

“Losses, Jastes,” Elend said. “It hasn’t been as hard for me as it was for you, but I do think I understand.” “So,” Jastes said, running a hand through his “hair,” “that fancy suit and haircut didn’t save you, eh?” “Take your koloss and go, Jastes.”

“That sounded like a threat, Elend,” Jastes said. “You aren’t king, you don’t have an army, and I don’t see your Mistborn around. What grounds do you have for threats?” “They’re koloss,” Elend said. “Do you really want them getting into the city? It’s your home, Jastes—or, it was once. There are thousands of people inside!” “I can…control my army,” Jastes said.

“No, I doubt you can,” Elend said. “What happened, Jastes? Did they decide they needed a king? They decided that’s the way that ‘humans’ did it, so they should do it, too? What is it that they carry in those pouches?” Jastes didn’t answer.

Elend sighed. “What happens when one of them just snaps and attacks you?” Jastes shook his head. “I’m sorry, Elend,” he said quietly. “I can’t let Straff get that atium.” “And my people?”

Jastes paused only briefly, then lowered his eyes and motioned to the guards. One laid a hand on Elend’s shoulder.

Elend’s reaction surprised even himself. He slammed his elbow up into the man’s face, shattering his nose, then took the other man down with a kick to the leg. Before Jastes could do more than cry out, Elend jumped forward.

Elend ripped an obsidian knife—given to him by Vin—from his boot and caught Jastes by the shoulder. Elend slammed the whimpering man around, pushing him backward onto the desk and—barely thinking to consider his actions—rammed the knife into his old friend’s shoulder.

Jastes emitted a loud, pathetic scream.

“If killing you would do anything useful, Jastes,” Elend growled, “I’d do it right now. But I don’t know how you control these things, and I don’t want to set them loose.” Soldiers piled into the room. Elend didn’t look up. He slapped Jastes, stopping his cries of pain.

“You listen,” Elend said. “I don’t care if you’ve been hurt, I don’t care if you don’t believe in the philosophies anymore, and I don’t really care if you get yourself killed playing politics with Straff and Cett.

“But I do care if you threaten my people. I want you to march your army out of my dominance—go attack Straff’s homeland, or maybe Cett’s. They’re both undefended. I promise I won’t let your enemies get the atium.

“And, as a friend, I’ll give you a bit of counsel. Think about that wound in your arm for a little while, Jastes. I was your best friend, and I nearly killed you. What the hell are you doing sitting in the middle of an entire army of deranged koloss?” Soldiers surrounded him. Elend stood, ripping the knife from Jastes’s body and spinning the man around, pressing the weapon against his throat.

The guards froze.

“I’m leaving,” Elend said, pushing the confused Jastes ahead of him, moving out of the tent. He noticed with some concern that there were barely a dozen human guards. Sazed had counted more. Where had Jastes lost them?

There was no sign of Elend’s horse. So he kept a wary eye on the soldiers, pulling Jastes toward the invisible line between the human camp and the koloss one. Elend turned as he reached the perimeter, then pushed Jastes back toward his men. They caught him, one pulling out a bandage for the arm. Others made moves as if to chase Elend, but they paused, hesitant.

Elend had crossed the line into the koloss camp. He stood quietly, watching the pathetic group of young soldiers, Jastes at their center. Even as they ministered to him, Elend could see the look in Jastes’s eyes. Hatred. He wouldn’t retreat. The man Elend had known was dead, replaced by this product of a new world that didn’t kindly regard philosophers and idealists.

Elend turned away, walking among the koloss. A group of them quickly approached. The same one as before? He couldn’t tell for certain.

“Take me out,” Elend commanded, meeting the eyes of the largest koloss in the team. Either Elend seemed more commanding now, or this koloss was more easily cowed, for there was no argument. The creature simply nodded and began to shuffle out of the camp, his team surrounding Elend.

This trip was a waste, Elend thought with frustration. All I did was antagonize Jastes. I risked my life for nothing.

If only I could find out what was in those pouches!

He eyed the group of koloss around him. It was a typical group, ranging in size from five feet to one ten-foot monstrosity. They walked along with slumped, unengaged postures….

Elend still had his knife out.

This is stupid, he thought. For some reason, that didn’t stop him from choosing the smallest koloss in the group, taking a deep breath, and attacking.

The rest of the koloss paused to watch. The creature Elend had chosen spun—but in the wrong direction. It turned to face its companion koloss, the one nearest to it in size, as Elend tackled it, ramming the knife into its back.

Even at five feet with a small build, the koloss was incredibly strong. It tossed Elend off, bellowing in pain. Elend, however, managed to keep hold of his dagger.

Can’t let it get out that sword, he thought, scrambling to his feet and ramming his knife into the creature’s thigh. The koloss dropped again, punching at Elend with one arm, fingers reaching for its sword with the other. Elend took the punch to the chest, and fell back to the sooty ground.

He groaned, gasping. The koloss pulled out its sword, but had trouble standing. Both knife wounds bled stark red blood; the liquid seemed brighter, more reflective, than that of a human, but that might have just been a contrast with the deep blue skin.

The koloss finally managed to gain its feet, and Elend realized his mistake. He’d let the adrenaline of his confrontation with Jastes—his frustration at his inability to stop the armies—drive him. He’d sparred a lot lately, but he was in no position to take a koloss.

But it was far too late to worry about that now.

Elend rolled out of the way as a thick, clublike sword smashed to the ground beside him. Instincts overrode terror, and he mostly managed to avoid the backswing. It took him a bit in the side, spraying a patch of blood across his once white uniform, but he barely even felt the cut.

Only one way to win a knife fight against a guy with a sword… Elend thought, gripping his knife. The thought, oddly, hadn’t come from one of his trainers, or even from Vin. He wasn’t sure where it came from, but he trusted it.

Close in tight as fast as possible, and kill quickly.

And Elend attacked. The koloss swung as well. Elend could see the attack, but couldn’t do anything about it. He could only throw himself forward, knife raised, teeth clenched.

He rammed his knife into the koloss’s eye, barely managing to get inside the creature’s reach. Even so, the hilt of the sword hit him in the stomach.

Both dropped.

Elend groaned quietly, slowly becoming aware of the hard, ash-packed earth and weeds eaten down to their roots. A fallen twig was scratching his cheek. Odd that he would notice that, considering the pain in his chest. He stumbled to his feet. The koloss he’d attacked did not rise. Its companions stood, looking unconcerned, though their eyes were focused on him. They seemed to want something.

“He ate my horse,” Elend said, saying the first thing that came to his clouded mind.

The group of koloss nodded. Elend stumbled forward, wiping the ash from his cheek with a dazed hand as he knelt beside the dead creature. He ripped his knife out, then slid it back in his boot. Next he unfastened the pouches; this koloss had two.

Finally, not certain why, he grabbed the creature’s large sword and rested it up on his shoulder. It was so weighty that he could barely carry it, and certainly wouldn’t be able to swing it. How does a creature so small use something like this?

The koloss watched him work without comment; then they led him out of the camp. Once they had retreated, Elend pulled open one of the pouches and looked inside.

He shouldn’t have been surprised by what he found inside. Jastes had decided to control his army the old-fashioned way.

He was paying them.

The others call me mad. As I have said, that may be true.