Mistborn: The Final Empire (Mistborn #1)(132)

Kelsier thrust his hand into the air, holding aloft a tiny bar of metal. “You’ve heard of this, haven’t you? You know the rumors of the Eleventh Metal? Well, I have it—and I will use it. The Lord Ruler will die!”

The men began to cheer.

“This is not our only tool!” Kelsier bellowed. “You soldiers have power untold inside of you! You have heard of the arcane magics that the Lord Ruler uses? Well, we have some of our own! Feast, my soldiers, and don’t fear the battle to come. Look forward to it!”

The room erupted in a riot of cheers, and Kelsier waved for more ale to be delivered. A couple of servants rushed forward to help Bilg from the room.

When Kelsier sat, Ham was frowning deeply. “I don’t like this, Kell,” he said.



“I know,” Kelsier said quietly.

Ham was about to speak further, but Yeden leaned across him. “That was amazing! I…Kelsier, I didn’t know! You should have told me you could pass your powers to others. Why, with these abilities, how can we possibly lose?”

Ham laid a hand on Yeden’s shoulder, pushing the man back into his seat. “Eat,” he ordered. Then, he turned to Kelsier, pulling his chair closer and speaking in a low voice. “You just lied to my entire army, Kell.”

“No, Ham,” Kelsier said quietly. “I lied to my army.”

Ham paused. Then his face darkened.

Kelsier sighed. “It was only a partial lie. They don’t need to be warriors, they just have to look threatening long enough for us to grab the atium. With it, we can bribe the Garrison, and our men won’t even have to ?ght. That’s virtually the same thing as what I promised them.”

Ham didn’t respond.

“Before we leave,” Kelsier said, “I want you to select a few dozen of our most trustworthy and devoted soldiers. We’ll send them back to Luthadel—with vows that they can’t reveal where the army is—so that word of this evening can spread amongst the skaa.”

“So this is about your ego?” Ham snapped.

Kelsier shook his head. “Sometimes we need to do things that we ?nd distasteful, Ham. My ego may be considerable, but this is about something else entirely.”

Ham sat for a moment, then turned back to his meal. He didn’t eat, however—he just sat staring at the blood on the ground before the high table.

Ah, Ham, Kelsier thought. I wish I could explain everything to you.

Plots behind plots, plans beyond plans.

There was always another secret.

At ?rst, there were those who didn’t think the Deepness was a serious danger, at least not to them. However, it brought with it a blight that I have seen infect nearly every part of the land. Armies are useless before it. Great cities are laid low by its power. Crops fail, and the land dies.

This is the thing I ?ght. This is the monster I must defeat. I fear that I have taken too long. Already, so much destruction has occurred that I fear for mankind’s survival.

Is this truly the end of the world, as many of the philosophers predict?

22

We arrived in Terris earlier this week, Vin read, and, I have to say, I ?nd the countryside beautiful. The great mountains to the north—with their bald snowcaps and forested mantles—stand like watchful gods over this land of green fertility. My own lands to the south are mostly ?at; I think that they might look less dreary if there were a few mountains to vary the terrain.

The people here are mostly herdsmen—though timber harvesters and farmers are not uncommon. It is a pastoral land, certainly. It seems odd that a place so remarkably agrarian could have produced the prophecies and theologies upon which the entire world now relies.

We picked up a group of Terris packmen to guide us through the dif?cult mountain passages. Yet, these are no ordinary men. The stories are apparently true—some Terrismen have a remarkable ability that is most intriguing.

Somehow, they can store up their strength for use on the next day. Before they sleep at night, they spend an hour lying in their bedrolls, during which time they suddenly grow very frail in appearance—almost as if they had aged by half a century. Yet, when they wake the next morning, they become quite muscular. Apparently, their powers have something to do with the metal bracelets and earrings that they always wear.

The leader of the packmen is named Rashek, and he is rather taciturn. Nevertheless, Braches—inquisitive, as always—has promised to interrogate him in the hopes of discovering exactly how this wondrous strength-storing is achieved.

Tomorrow, we begin the ?nal stage of our pilgrimage—the Far Mountains of Terris. There, hopefully, I will ?nd peace—both for myself, and for our poor land.

AS SHE READ HER COPY of the logbook, Vin was quickly coming to several decisions. First was the ?rm belief that she did not like reading. Sazed didn’t listen to her complaints; he just claimed that she hadn’t practiced enough. Couldn’t he see that reading was hardly as practical a skill as being able to handle a dagger or use Allomancy?

Still, she continued to read as per his orders—if only to stubbornly prove that she could. Many of the logbook’s words were dif?cult to her, and she had to read in a secluded part of Renoux’s mansion where she could sound out the words to herself, trying to decipher the Lord Ruler’s odd style of writing.

The continued reading led to her second conclusion: The Lord Ruler was far more whiny than any god had a right to be. When pages of the logbook weren’t ?lled with boring notes about the Lord Ruler’s travels, they were instead packed with internal contemplations and lengthy moralistic ramblings. Vin was beginning to wish that she’d never found the book in the ?rst place.