فصل 57

57

“Look, we all know what we need to do,” Cett said, pounding the table. “We’ve got our armies here, ready and willing to fight. Now, let’s go get my damn country back!” “The empress gave us no command to do such a thing,” Janarle said, sipping his tea, completely unfazed by Cett’s lack of decorum. “I, personally, think that we should wait at least until the emperor returns.” Penrod, the oldest of the men in the room, had enough tact to look sympathetic. “I understand that you are concerned for your people, Lord Cett. But we haven’t even had a week to rebuild Luthadel. It is far too early to be worrying about expanding our influence. We cannot possibly authorize these preparations.” “Oh, leave off, Penrod,” Cett snapped. “You’re not in charge of us.” All three men turned to Sazed. He felt very awkward, sitting at the head of the table in Keep Venture’s conference chamber. Aides and attendants, including some of Dockson’s bureaucrats, stood at the perimeter of the sparse room, but only the three rulers—now kings beneath Elend’s imperial rule—sat with Sazed at the table.

“I think that we should not be hasty, Lord Cett,” Sazed said.

“This isn’t haste,” Cett said, pounding the table again. “I just want to order scout and spy reports, so that we can have information we need when we invade!” “If we do invade,” Janarle said. “If the emperor decides to recover Fadrex City, it won’t happen until this summer, at the very earliest. We have far more pressing concerns. My armies have been away from the Northern Dominance for too long. It is basic political theory that we should stabilize what we have before we move into new territory.” “Bah!” Cett said, waving an indifferent hand.

“You may send your scouts, Lord Cett,” Sazed said. “But they are to seek information only. They are to engage in no raids, no matter how tempting the opportunity.” Cett shook a bearded head. “This is why I never bothered to play political games with the rest of the Final Empire. Nothing gets done because everyone is too busy scheming!” “There is much to be said for subtlety, Lord Cett,” Penrod said. “Patience brings the greater prize.” “Greater prize?” Cett asked. “What did the Central Dominance earn itself by waiting? You waited right up until the moment that your city fell! If you hadn’t been the ones with the best Mistborn…” “Best Mistborn, my lord?” Sazed asked quietly. “Did you not see her take command of the koloss? Did you not see her leap across the sky like an arrow in flight? Lady Vin isn’t simply the ‘best Mistborn.’” The group fell silent. I have to keep them focused on her, Sazed thought. Without Vin’s leadership—without the threat of her power—this coalition would dissolve in three heartbeats.

He felt so inadequate. He couldn’t keep the men on-topic, and he couldn’t do much to help them with their various problems. He could just keep reminding them of Vin’s power.

The trouble was, he didn’t really want to. He was feeling something very odd in himself, feelings he usually didn’t have. Disconcern. Apathy. Why did anything that these men talked about matter? Why did anything matter, now that Tindwyl was dead?

He gritted his teeth, trying to force himself to focus.

“Very well,” Cett said, waving a hand. “I’ll send the scouts. Has that food arrived from Urteau yet, Janarle?” The younger nobleman grew uncomfortable. “We…may have trouble with that, my lord. It seems that an unwholesome element has been rabble-rousing in the city.” “No wonder you want to send troops back to the Northern Dominance!” Cett accused. “You’re planning to conquer your kingdom back and leave mine to rot!” “Urteau is much closer than your capital, Cett,” Janarle said, turning back to his tea. “It only makes sense to set me up there before we turn our attention westward.” “We will let the empress make that decision,” Penrod said. He liked to act the mediator—and by doing so, he made himself seem above the issues. In essence, he put himself in control by putting himself in between the other two.

Not all that different from what Elend tried to do, Sazed thought, with our armies. The boy had more of a sense of political strategy than Tindwyl had ever credited him with.

I shouldn’t think about her, he told himself, closing his eyes. Yet, it was hard not to. Everything Sazed did, everything he thought, seemed wrong because she was gone. Lights seemed dimmer. Motivations were more difficult to reach. He found that he had trouble even wanting to pay attention to the kings, let alone give them direction.

It was foolish, he knew. How long had Tindwyl been back in his life? Only a few months. Long ago, he had resigned himself to the fact that he would never be loved—in general—and that he certainly would never have her love. Not only did he lack manhood, but he was a rebel and a dissident—a man well outside of the Terris orthodoxy.

Surely her love for him had been a miracle. Yet, whom did he thank for that blessing, and whom did he curse for stealing her away? He knew of hundreds of gods. He would hate them all, if he thought it would do any good.

For the sake of his own sanity, he forced himself to get distracted by the kings again.

“Listen,” Penrod was saying, leaning forward, arms on the tabletop. “I think we’re looking at this the wrong way, gentlemen. We shouldn’t be squabbling, we should be happy. We are in a very unique position. In the time since the Lord Ruler’s empire fell, dozens—perhaps hundreds—of men have tried to set themselves up as kings in various ways. The one thing they shared, however, was that they all lacked stability.

“Well, it appears that we are going to be forced to work together. I am starting to see this in a favorable light. I will give my allegiance to the Venture couple—I’ll even live with Elend Venture’s eccentric views of government—if it means that I’ll still be in power ten years from now.” Cett scratched at his beard for a moment, then nodded. “You make a good point, Penrod. Maybe the first good one I’ve ever heard out of you.” “But we can’t continue trying to assume that we know what we are to do,” Janarle said. “We need direction. Surviving the next ten years, I suspect, is going to depend heavily on my not ending up dead on the end of that Mistborn girl’s knife.” “Indeed,” Penrod said, nodding curtly. “Master Terrisman. When can we expect the empress to take command again?” Once again, all three pairs of eyes turned to Sazed.

I don’t really care, Sazed thought, then immediately felt guilty. Vin was his friend. He did care. Even if it was hard to care about anything for him. He looked down in shame. “Lady Vin is suffering greatly from the effects of an extended pewter drag,” he said. “She pushed herself very hard this last year, and then ended it by running all the way back to Luthadel. She is in great need of rest. I think we should let her be for a time longer.” The others nodded, and returned to their discussion. Sazed’s mind, however, turned to Vin. He’d understated her malady, and he was beginning to worry. A pewter drag drained the body, and he suspected that she’d been forcing herself to stay awake with the metal for months now.

When a Keeper stored up wakefulness, he slept as if in a coma for a time. He could only hope that the effects of such a terrible pewter drag were the same, for Vin hadn’t awoken a single time since her return a week before. Perhaps she’d awake soon, like a Keeper who came out of sleep.

Perhaps it would last longer. Her koloss army waited outside the city, controlled—apparently—even though she was unconscious. But for how long? Pewter dragging could kill, if the person had pushed themselves too hard.

What would happen to the city if she never woke up?

Ash was falling. A lot of ashfalls lately, Elend thought as he and Spook emerged from the trees and looked out over the Luthadel plain.

“See,” Spook said quietly, pointing. “The city gates are broken.” Elend frowned. “But the koloss are camped outside the city.” Indeed, Straff’s army camp was also still there, right where it had been.

“Work crews,” Spook said, shading his face against the sunlight to protect his overly sensitive Allomancer’s eyes. “Looks like they’re burying corpses outside the city.” Elend’s frown deepened. Vin. What happened to her? Is she all right?

He and Spook had cut across country, taking a cue from the Terrismen, to make certain that they didn’t get discovered by patrols from the city. Indeed, this day they’d broken their pattern, traveling a little bit during the day so that they could arrive at Luthadel just before nightfall. The mists would soon be coming, and Elend was fatigued—both from rising early and from walking so long.

More than that, he was tired of not knowing what had happened to Luthadel. “Can you see whose flag is set over the gates?” he asked.

Spook paused, apparently flaring his metals. “Yours,” he finally said, surprised.

Elend smiled. Well, either they managed to save the city somehow, or this is a very elaborate trap to capture me. “Come on,” he said, pointing to a line of refugees who were being allowed back into the city—likely those who had fled before, returning for food now that the danger was past. “We’ll mix with those and make our way in.” Sazed sighed quietly, shutting the door to his room. The kings were finished with the day’s arguments. Actually, they were starting to get along quite well, considering the fact that they’d all tried to conquer each other just a few weeks before.

Sazed knew he could take no credit for their newfound amiability, however. He had other preoccupations.

I’ve seen many die, in my days, he thought, walking into the room. Kelsier. Jadendwyl. Crenda. People I respected. I never wondered what had happened to their spirits.

He set his candle on the table, the fragile light illuminating a few scattered pages, a pile of strange metal nails taken from koloss bodies, and one manuscript. Sazed sat down at the table, fingers brushing the pages, remembering the days spent with Tindwyl, studying.

Maybe this is why Vin put me in charge, he thought. She knew I’d need something to take my mind off Tindwyl.

And yet, he was finding more and more that he didn’t want to take his mind off her. Which was more potent? The pain of memory, or the pain of forgetting? He was a Keeper—it was his life’s work to remember. Forgetting, even in the name of personal peace, was not something that appealed to him.

He flipped through the manuscript, smiling fondly in the dark chamber. He’d sent a cleaned-up, rewritten version with Vin and Elend to the north. This, however, was the original. The frantically—almost desperately—scribbled manuscript made by two frightened scholars.

As he fingered the pages, the flickering candlelight revealed Tindwyl’s firm, yet beautiful, script. It mixed easily with paragraphs written in Sazed’s own, more reserved hand. At times, a page would alternate between their different hands a dozen different times.

He didn’t realize that he was crying until he blinked, sending loose a tear, which hit the page. He looked down, stunned as the bit of water caused a swirl in the ink.

“What now, Tindwyl?” he whispered. “Why did we do this? You never believed in the Hero of Ages, and I never believed in anything, it appears. What was the point of all this?” He reached up and dabbed the tear with his sleeve, preserving the page as best he could. Despite his tiredness, he began to read, selecting a random paragraph. He read to remember. To think of days when he hadn’t worried about why they were studying. He had simply been content to do what he enjoyed best, with the person he had come to love most.

We gathered everything we could find on the Hero of Ages and the Deepness, he thought, reading. But so much of it seems contradictory.

He flipped through to a particular section, one that Tindwyl had insisted that they include. It contained the several most blatant self-contradictions, as declared by Tindwyl. He read them over, giving them fair consideration for the first time. This was Tindwyl the scholar—a cautious skeptic. He fingered through the passages, reading her script.

The Hero of Ages will be tall of stature, one read. A man who cannot be ignored by others.

The power must not be taken, read another. Of this, we are certain. It must be held, but not used. It must be released. Tindwyl had found that condition foolish, since other sections talked about the Hero using the power to defeat the Deepness.

All men are selfish, read another. The Hero is a man who can see the needs of all beyond his own desires. “If all men are selfish,” Tindwyl had asked, “then how can the Hero be selfless, as is said in other passages? And, indeed, how can a humble man be expected to conquer the world?” Sazed shook his head, smiling. At times, her objections had been very well conceived—but at other times, she had just been struggling to offer another opinion, no matter how much of a stretch it required. He ran his fingers across the page again, but paused on the first paragraph.

Tall of stature, it said. That wouldn’t refer to Vin. It hadn’t come from the rubbing, but another book. Tindwyl had included it because the rubbing, the more trustworthy source, said he’d be short. Sazed flipped through the book to the complete transcription of Kwaan’s iron-plate testimony, searching for the passage.

Alendi’s height struck me the first time I saw him, it read. Here was a man who was small of stature, but who seemed to tower over others, a man who demanded respect.

Sazed frowned. Before, he’d argued that there was no contradiction, for one passage could be interpreted as referring to the Hero’s presence or character, rather than just his physical height. Now, however, Sazed paused, really seeing Tindwyl’s objections for the first time.

And something felt wrong to him. He looked back at his book, scanning the contents of the page.

There was a place for me in the lore of the Anticipation, he read. I thought myself the Holy First Witness, the prophet foretold to discover the Hero of Ages. Renouncing Alendi then would have been to renounce my new position, my acceptance, by the others.

Sazed’s frown deepened. He traced the paragraph.

Outside, it was growing dark, and a few trails of mist curled around the shutters, creeping into the room before vanishing.

Holy First Witness, he read again. How did I miss that? It’s the same name the people called me, back at the gates. I didn’t recognize it.

“Sazed.”

Sazed jumped, nearly toppling his book to the floor as he turned. Vin stood behind him, a dark shadow in the poorly lit room.

“Lady Vin! You’re up!”

“You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long,” she said.

“We tried to wake you,” he said softly. “You were in a coma.”

She paused.

“Perhaps it is for the best, Lady Vin,” Sazed said. “The fighting is done, and you pushed yourself hard these last few months. It is good for you to get some rest, now that this is over.” She stepped forward, shaking her head, and Sazed could see that she looked haggard, despite her days of rest. “No, Sazed,” she said. “This is not ‘over.’ Not by far.” “What do you mean?” Sazed asked, growing concerned.

“I can still hear it in my head,” Vin said, raising a hand to her forehead. “It’s here. In the city.” “The Well of Ascension?” Sazed asked. “But, Lady Vin, I lied about that. Truly and apologetically, I don’t even know if there is such a thing.” “Do you believe me to be the Hero of Ages?”

Sazed looked away. “A few days ago, on the field outside the city, I felt certain. But…lately…I don’t seem to know what I believe anymore. The prophecies and stories are a jumble of contradictions.” “This isn’t about prophecies,” Vin said, walking over to his table and looking at his book. “This is about what needs to be done. I can feel it…pulling me.” She glanced at the closed window, with the mists curling at the edges. Then, she walked over and threw the shutters open, letting in the cold winter air. Vin stood, closing her eyes and letting the mists wash over her. She wore only a simple shirt and trousers.

“I drew upon it once, Sazed,” she said. “Do you know that? Did I tell you? When I fought the Lord Ruler. I drew power from the mists. That’s how I defeated him.” Sazed shivered, not just from the cold. From the tone in her voice, and the air of her words. “Lady Vin…” he said, but wasn’t sure how to continue. Drew upon the mists? What did she mean?

“The Well is here,” she repeated, looking out the window, mist curling into the room.

“It can’t be, Lady Vin,” Sazed said. “All of the reports agree. The Well of Ascension was found in the Terris Mountains.” Vin shook her head. “He changed the world, Sazed.”

He paused, frowning. “What?”

“The Lord Ruler,” she whispered. “He created the Ashmounts. The records say he made the vast deserts around the empire, that he broke the land in order to preserve it. Why should we assume that things look like they did when he first climbed to the Well? He created mountains. Why couldn’t he have flattened them?” Sazed felt a chill.

“It’s what I would do,” Vin said. “If I knew the power would return, if I wanted to preserve it. I’d hide the Well. I’d let the legends remain, talking about mountains to the north. Then, I would build my city around the Well so that I could keep an eye on it.” She turned, looking at him. “It’s here. The power waits.”

Sazed opened his mouth to object, but could find nothing. He had no faith. Who was he to argue with such things? As he paused, he heard voices below, from outside.

Voices? he thought. At night? In the mists? Curious, he strained to hear what was being said, but they were too far away. He reached into the bag beside his table. Most of his metalminds were empty; he wore only his copperminds, with their stores of ancient knowledge. Inside the sack, he found a small pouch. It contained the ten rings he had prepared for the siege, but had never used. He pulled it open, took out one of the ten, then tucked the bag into his sash.

With this ring—a tinmind—he could tap hearing. The words below became distinct to him.

“The king! The king has returned!”

Vin leaped out the window.

“I don’t fully understand how she does it either, El,” Ham said, walking with his arm in a sling.

Elend walked through the city streets, people trailing behind him, speaking in excited tones. The crowd was growing larger and larger as people heard that Elend had returned. Spook eyed them uncertainly, but seemed to be enjoying the attention.

“I was out cold for the last part of the battle,” Ham was saying. “Only pewter kept me alive—koloss slaughtered my team, breached the walls of the keep I was defending. I got out, and found Sazed, but my mind was growing muddled by then. I remember falling unconscious outside Keep Hasting. When I woke up, Vin had already taken the city back. I…” They paused. Vin stood in front of them in the city street. Quiet, dark. In the mists, she almost looked like the spirit Elend had seen earlier.

“Vin?” he asked in the eerie air.

“Elend,” she said, rushing forward, into his arms, and the air of mystery was gone. She shivered as she held him. “I’m sorry. I think I did something bad.” “Oh?” he asked. “What is that?”

“I made you emperor.”

Elend smiled. “I noticed, and I accept.”

“After all you did to make certain the people had a choice?”

Elend shook his head. “I’m beginning to think my opinions were simplistic. Honorable, but…incomplete. We’ll deal with this. I’m just glad to find that my city is still standing.” Vin smiled. She looked tired.

“Vin?” he asked. “Are you still pewter-dragging?”

“No,” she said. “This is something else.” She glanced to the side, face thoughtful, as if deciding something.

“Come,” she said.

Sazed watched out the window, a second tinmind enhancing his sight. It was indeed Elend below. Sazed smiled, one of the weights on his soul removed. He turned, intending to go and meet the king.

And then he saw something blowing on the floor in front of him. A scrap of paper. He knelt down, picking it up, noticing his own handwriting on it. Its edges were jagged from having been ripped. He frowned, walking over to his table, opening the book to the page with Kwaan’s narrative. A piece was missing. The same piece as before, the one that had been ripped free that time with Tindwyl. He’d almost forgotten the strange occurrence with the pages all missing the same sentence.

He’d rewritten this page, from his metalmind, after they’d found the torn sheets. Now the same bit had been torn free, the last sentence. Just to make certain, he put it up next to his book. It fit perfectly. Alendi must not reach the Well of Ascension, it read, for he must not be allowed to take the power for himself. It was the exact wording Sazed had in his memory, the exact wording of the rubbing.

Why would Kwaan have worried about this? he thought, sitting down. He says he knew Alendi better than anyone else. In fact, he called Alendi an honorable man on several occasions.

Why would Kwaan be so worried about Alendi taking the power for himself?

Vin walked through the mists. Elend, Ham, and Spook trailed behind her, the crowd dispersed by Elend’s order—though some soldiers did stay close to protect Elend.

Vin continued on, feeling the pulsings, the thumpings, the power that shook her very soul. Why couldn’t the others feel it?

“Vin?” Elend asked. “Where are we going?”

“Kredik Shaw,” she said softly.

“But…why?”

She just shook her head. She knew the truth, now. The Well was in the city. With how strong the pulsings were growing, she might have assumed that their direction would be harder to discern. But that wasn’t the way it was at all. Now that they were loud and full, she found it easier.

Elend glanced back at the others, and she could sense his concern. Up ahead, Kredik Shaw loomed in the night. Spires, like massive spikes, jutted from the ground in an off-balance pattern, reaching accusingly toward the stars above.

“Vin,” Elend said. “The mists are acting…strangely.”

“I know,” she said. “They’re guiding me.”

“No, actually,” Elend said. “They kind of look like they’re pulling away from you.” Vin shook her head. This felt right. How could she explain? Together, they entered the remnants of the Lord Ruler’s palace.

The Well was here all along, Vin thought, amused. She could feel the pulses vibrating through the building. Why hadn’t she noticed it before?

The pulses were still too weak, then, she realized. The Well wasn’t full yet. Now it is. And it called to her.

She followed the same path as before. The path she’d followed with Kelsier, breaking into Kredik Shaw on a doomful night when she had nearly died. The path she’d followed on her own, the night she had come to kill the Lord Ruler. The tight stone corridors opened into the room shaped like an upside-down bowl. Elend’s lantern glistened against the fine stonework and murals, mostly in black and gray. The stone shack stood in the center of the room, abandoned, enclosed.

“I think we’re finally going to find your atium, Elend,” Vin said, smiling.

“What?” Elend said, his voice echoing in the chamber. “Vin, we searched here. We tried everything.” “Not enough, apparently,” Vin said, eyeing the small building-within-a-building, but not moving toward it.

This is where I’d put it, she thought. It makes sense. The Lord Ruler would have wanted to keep the Well close so that when the power returned, he’d be able to take it.

But I killed him before that could happen.

The booming came from below. They’d torn up sections of the floor, but had stopped when they’d hit solid rock. There had to be a way down. She walked over, searching through the building-within-a-building, but found nothing. She left, passing her confused friends, frustrated.

Then she tried burning her metals. As always, the blue lines shot up around her, pointing to sources of metal. Elend was wearing several, as was Spook, though Ham was clean. Some of the stonework bore metal inlays, and lines pointed to those.

Everything was as expected. There was nothing…

Vin frowned, stepping to the side. One of the inlays bore a particularly thick line. Too thick, in fact. She frowned, inspecting the line as it—like the others—pointed from her chest directly at the stone wall. This one seemed to be pointing beyond the wall.

What?

She Pulled on it. Nothing happened. So, she Pulled harder, grunting as she was yanked toward the wall. She released the line, glancing about. There were inlays on the floor. Deep ones. Curious, she anchored herself by Pulling on these, then Pulled on the wall again. She thought she felt something budge.

She burned duralumin and Pulled as hard as she could. The explosion of power nearly ripped her apart, but her anchor held, and duralumin-fueled pewter kept her alive. And a section of the wall slid open, stone grinding against stone in the quiet room. Vin gasped, letting go as her metals ran out.

“Lord Ruler!” Spook said. Ham was quicker, however, moving with the speed of pewter and peeking into the opening. Elend stayed at her side, grabbing her arm as she nearly fell.

“I’m fine,” Vin said, downing a vial and restoring her metals. The power of the Well thumped around her. It almost seemed to shake the room.

“There are stairs in here,” Ham said, poking his head back out.

Vin steadied herself and nodded to Elend, and the two of them followed Ham and Spook through the false section of the wall.

But, I must continue with the sparsest of detail, Kwaan’s account read.

Space is limited. The other Worldbringers must have thought themselves humble when they came to me, admitting that they had been wrong about Alendi. Even then, I was beginning to doubt my original declaration. But, I was prideful.

In the end, my pride may have doomed us all. I had never received much attention from my brethren; they thought that my work and my interests were unsuitable to a Worldbringer. The couldn’t see how my studies, which focused on nature instead of religion, benefited the people of the fourteen lands.

As the one who found Alendi, however, I became someone important. Foremost among the Worldbringers. There was a place for me in the lore of the Anticipation—I thought myself the Holy First Witness, the prophet foretold to discover the Hero of Ages. Renouncing Alendi then would have been to renounce my new position, my acceptance, by the others.

And so I did not. But I do so now.

Let it be known that I, Kwaan, Worldbringer of Terris, am a fraud. Alendi was never the Hero of Ages. At best, I have amplified his virtues, creating a hero where there was none. At worst, I fear that I have corrupted all we believe.

Sazed sat at his table, reading from his book.

Something is not right here, he thought. He traced back a few lines, looking at the words “Holy First Witness” again. Why did that line keep bothering him?

He sat back, sighing. Even if the prophecies did speak about the future, they wouldn’t be things to follow or use as guideposts. Tindwyl was right on that count. His own study had proven them to be unreliable and shadowed.

So what was the problem?

It just doesn’t make sense.

But, then again, sometimes religion didn’t make literal sense. Was that the reason, or was that his own bias? His growing frustration with the teachings he had memorized and taught, but which had betrayed him in the end?

It came down to the scrap of paper on his desk. The torn one. Alendi must not be allowed to reach the Well of Ascension….

Someone was standing next to his desk.

Sazed gasped, stumbling back, nearly tripping over his chair. It wasn’t actually a person. It was a shadow—formed, it seemed, from streams of mist. They were very faint, still trailing through the window that Vin had opened, but they made a person. Its head seemed turned toward the table, toward the book. Or…perhaps the scrap of paper.

Sazed felt like running, like scrambling away in fear, but his scholar’s mind dredged something up to fight his terror. Alendi, he thought. The one everyone thought was the Hero of Ages. He said he saw a thing made of mist following him.

Vin claimed to have seen it as well.

“What…do you want?” he asked, trying to remain calm.

The spirit didn’t move.

Could it be…her? he wondered with shock. Many religions claimed that the dead continued to walk the world, just beyond the view of mortals. But this thing was too short to be Tindwyl. Sazed was sure that he would have recognized her, even in such an amorphous form.

Sazed tried to gauge where it was looking. He reached out a hesitant hand, picking up the scrap of paper.

The spirit raised an arm, pointing toward the center of the city. Sazed frowned.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

The spirit pointed more insistently.

“Write down for me what you want me to do.”

It just pointed.

Sazed stood for a long moment in the room with only one candle, then glanced at the open book. The wind flipped its pages, showing his handwriting, then Tindwyl’s, then his again.

Alendi must not be allowed to reach the Well of Ascension. He must not be allowed to take the power for himself.

Perhaps…perhaps Kwaan knew something that nobody else had. Could the power corrupt even the best of people? Could that be why he turned against Alendi, trying to stop him?

The mist spirit pointed again.

If the spirit tore free that sentence, perhaps it was trying to tell me something. But…Vin wouldn’t take the power for herself. She wouldn’t destroy, as the Lord Ruler did, would she?

And if she didn’t have a choice?

Outside, someone screamed. The yell was of pure terror, and it was soon joined by others. A horrible, echoing set of sounds in a dark night.

There wasn’t time to think. Sazed grabbed the candle, spilling wax on the table in his haste, and left the room.

The winding set of stone stairs led downward for quite some time. Vin walked down them, Elend at her side, the thumping sounding loudly in her ears. At the bottom, the stairwell opened into… A vast chamber. Elend held his lantern high, looking down into a huge stone cavern. Spook was already halfway down the stone steps leading to the floor. Ham was following.

“Lord Ruler…” Elend whispered, standing at Vin’s side. “We’d have never found this without tearing down the entire building!” “That was probably the idea,” Vin said. “Kredik Shaw isn’t simply a palace, but a capstone. Built to hide something. This. Above, those inlays on the walls hid the cracks of the doorway, and the metal in them obscured the opening mechanism from Allomantic eyes. If I hadn’t had a hint…” “Hint?” Elend asked, turning to her.

Vin shook her head, nodding to the steps. The two began down them. Below, she heard Spook’s voice ring.

“There’s food down here!” he yelled. “Cans and cans of it!”

Indeed, they found rank upon rank of shelves sitting on the cavern floor, meticulously packed as if set aside in preparation for something important. Vin and Elend reached the cavern floor as Ham chased after Spook, calling for him to slow down. Elend made as if to follow, but Vin grabbed his arm. She was burning iron.

“Strong source of metal that way,” she said, growing eager.

Elend nodded, and they rushed through the cavern, passing shelf after shelf. The Lord Ruler must have prepared these, she thought. But for what purpose?

She didn’t care at the moment. She didn’t really care about the atium either, but Elend’s eagerness to find it was too much to ignore. They rushed up to the end of the cavern, where they found the source of the metal line.

A large metal plaque hung on the wall, like the one Sazed had described finding in the Conventical of Seran. Elend was clearly disappointed when they saw it. Vin, however, stepped forward, looking through tin-enhanced eyes to see what it contained.

“A map?” Elend asked. “That’s the Final Empire.”

Indeed, a map of the empire was carved into the metal. Luthadel was marked at the center. A small circle marked another city nearby.

“Why is Statlin City circled?” Elend asked, frowning.

Vin shook her head. “This isn’t what we came for,” she said. “There.” A tunnel split off from the main cavern. “Come on.” Sazed ran through the streets, not even certain what he was doing. He followed the mist spirit, which was difficult to trace in the night, as his candle had long since puffed out.

People screamed. Their panicked sounds gave him chills, and he itched to go and see what the problem was. Yet the mist spirit was demanding; it paused to catch his attention if it lost him. It could simply be leading him to his death. And yet…he felt a trust for it that he could not explain.

Allomancy? he thought. Pulling on my emotions?

Before he could consider that further, he stumbled across the first body. It was a skaa man in simple clothing, skin stained with ash. His face was twisted in a grimace of pain, and the ash on the ground was smeared from his thrashings.

Sazed gasped as he pulled to a halt. He knelt, studying the body by the dim light of an open window nearby. This man had not died easily.

It’s…like the killings I was studying, he thought. Months ago, in the village to the south. The man there said that the mists had killed his friend. Caused him to fall to the ground and thrash about.

The spirit appeared in front of Sazed, its posture insistent. Sazed looked up, frowning. “You did this?” he whispered.

The thing shook its head violently, pointing. Kredik Shaw was just ahead. It was the direction Vin and Elend had gone earlier.

Sazed stood. Vin said she thought the Well was still in the city, he thought. The Deepness has come upon us, as its tendrils have been doing in the far reaches of the empire for some time. Killing.

Something greater than we comprehend is going on.

He still couldn’t believe that Vin going to the Well would be dangerous. She had read; she knew Rashek’s story. She wouldn’t take the power for herself. He was confident. But not completely certain. In fact, he was no longer certain what they should do with the Well.

I have to get to her. Stop her, talk to her, prepare her. We can’t rush into something like this. If, indeed, they were going to take the power at the Well, they needed to think about it first and decide what the best course was.

The mist spirit continued to point. Sazed stood and ran forward, ignoring the horror of the screams in the night. He approached the doors of the massive palace structure with its spires and spikes, then dashed inside.

The mist spirit remained behind, in the mists that had birthed it. Sazed lit his candle again with a flint, and waited. The mist spirit did not move forward. Still feeling an urgency, Sazed left it behind, continuing into the depths of the Lord Ruler’s former home. The stone walls were cold and dark, his candle a wan light.

The Well couldn’t be here, he thought. It’s supposed to be in the mountains.

Yet, so much about that time was vague. He was beginning to doubt that he’d ever understood the things he’d studied.

He quickened his step, shading his candle with his hand, knowing where he needed to go. He’d visited the building-within-a-building, the place where the Lord Ruler had once spent his time. Sazed had studied the place after the empire’s fall, chronicling and cataloguing. He stepped into the outer room, and was halfway across it before he noticed the unfamiliar opening in the wall.

A figure stood in doorway, head bowed. Sazed’s candlelight reflected the polished marble walls, the silvery inlayed murals, and the spikes in the man’s eyes.

“Marsh?” Sazed asked, shocked. “Where have you been?”

“What are you doing, Sazed?” Marsh whispered.

“I’m going to Vin,” he said, confused. “She has found the Well, Marsh. We have to get to her, stop her from doing anything with it until we’re sure what it does.” Marsh remained silent for a short time. “You should not have come here, Terrisman,” he finally said, head still bowed.

“Marsh? What is going on?” Sazed took a step forward, feeling urgent.

“I wish I knew. I wish…I wish I understood.”

“Understood what?” Sazed asked, voice echoing in the domed room.

Marsh stood silently for a moment. Then he looked up, focusing his sightless spikeheads on Sazed.

“I wish I understood why I have to kill you,” he said, then lifted a hand. An Allomantic Push slammed into the metal bracers on Sazed’s arms, throwing him backward, crashing him into the hard stone wall.

“I’m sorry,” Marsh whispered.

Alendi must not reach the Well of Ascension….