Mistborn: Secret History (Mistborn, #3.5)(4)

“What about him?” Kelsier said. “You say that everyone has to bend to death, but obviously that isn’t true. He is immortal.”

“He’s a special case,” Fuzz said, perking up. “He has ways of not dying in the first place.”

“And if he did die?” Kelsier pressed. “He’d last even longer on this side than I am, right?”

“Oh, indeed,” Fuzz said. “He Ascended, if just for a short time. He held enough of the power to expand his soul.”

Got it. Expand my soul.

“I . . .” God wavered, figure distorting. “I . . .” He cocked his head. “What was I saying?”

“About how the Lord Ruler expanded his soul.”

“That was delightful,” God said. “It was spectacular to watch! And now he is Preserved. I am glad you didn’t find a way to destroy him. Everyone else passes, but not him. It’s wonderful.”

“Wonderful?” Kelsier felt like spitting. “He’s a tyrant, Fuzz.”

“He’s unchanging,” God said, defensive. “He’s a brilliant specimen. So unique. I don’t agree with what he does, but one can empathize with the lamb while admiring the lion, can one not?”

“Why not stop him? If you disagree with what he does, then do something about it!”

“Now, now,” God said. “That would be hasty. What would removing him accomplish? It would just raise another leader who is more transient—and cause chaos and even more deaths than the Lord Ruler has caused. Better to have stability. Yes. A constant leader.”

Kelsier felt himself stretching further. He’d go soon. It didn’t seem his new body could sweat, for if it could have his forehead would certainly be drenched by now.

“Maybe you would enjoy watching another do as he did,” Kelsier said. “Expand their soul.”

“Impossible. The power at the Well of Ascension won’t be gathered and ready for more than a year.”

“What?” Kelsier said. The Well of Ascension?

He dredged through his memories, trying to remember the things Sazed had told him of religion and belief. The scope of it threatened to overwhelm him. He’d been playing at rebellion and thrones—focusing on religion only when he thought it might benefit his plans—and all the while, this had been in the background. Ignored and unnoticed.

He felt like a child.

Fuzz kept speaking, oblivious to Kelsier’s awakening. “But no, you wouldn’t be able to use the Well. I’ve failed at locking him away. I knew I would; he’s stronger. His essence seeps out in natural forms. Solid, liquid, gas. Because of how we created the world. He has plans. But are they deeper than my plans, or have I finally outthought him . . . ?”

Fuzz distorted again. His diatribe made little sense to Kelsier. He felt as if it was important, but it just wasn’t urgent.

“Power is returning to the Well of Ascension,” Kelsier said.

Fuzz hesitated. “Hm. Yes. Um, but it’s far, far away. Yes, too far for you to go. Too bad.”

God, it turned out, was a terrible liar.

Kelsier seized him, and the little man cringed.

“Tell me,” Kelsier said. “Please. I can feel myself stretching away, falling, being pulled. Please.”

Fuzz yanked out of his grip. Kelsier’s fingers . . . or rather, his soul’s fingers . . . weren’t working as well any longer.

“No,” Fuzz said. “No, it is not right. If you touched it, you might just add to his power. You will go as all others.”

Very well, Kelsier thought. A con, then.

He let himself slump against the wall of a ghostly building. He sighed, settling down in a seated position, back to the wall. “All right.”

“See, there!” Fuzz said. “Better. Much better, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Kelsier said.

God seemed to relax. With discomfort, Kelsier noticed God was still leaking. Mist slipped away from his body at a few pinprick points. This creature was like a wounded beast, placidly going about its daily life while ignoring the bite marks.

Remaining motionless was hard. Harder than facing down the Lord Ruler had been. Kelsier wanted to run, to scream, to scramble and move. That sensation of being drawn away was horrible.

Somehow he feigned relaxation. “You asked,” he said, as if very tired and having trouble forcing it out, “me a question? When you first appeared?”

“Oh!” Fuzz said. “Yes. You let him kill you. I had not expected that.”

“You’re God. Can’t you see the future?”

“To an extent,” Fuzz said, animated. “But it is cloudy, so cloudy. Too many possibilities. I did not see this among them, though it was probably there. You must tell me. Why did you let him kill you? At the end, you just stood there.”

“I couldn’t have gotten away,” Kelsier said. “Once the Lord Ruler arrived, there was no escaping. I had to confront him.”

“You didn’t even fight.”

“I used the Eleventh Metal.”

“Foolishness,” God said. He started pacing. “That was Ruin’s influence on you. But what was the point? I can’t understand why he wanted you to have that useless metal.” He perked up. “And that fight. You and the Inquisitor. Yes, I’ve seen many things, but that was unlike any other. Impressive, though I wish you hadn’t caused such destruction, Kelsier.”