“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.
6
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.
I’M TOO WEAK, Marsh thought.
Lucidity came upon him suddenly, as it often did when Ruin wasn’t watching him closely. It was like walking from a nightmare, fully aware of what had been going on in the dream, yet confused as to the reasoning behind his actions.
He continued to walk through the koloss camp. Ruin still controlled him, as it always did. Yet, when it didn’t press hard enough against Marsh’s mind—when it didn’t focus on him—sometimes, Marsh’s own thoughts returned.
I can’t fight it, he thought. Ruin couldn’t read his thoughts, of that he was fairly confident. And yet, Marsh couldn’t fight or struggle in any way. When he did, Ruin immediately asserted control once again. This had been proven to Marsh a dozen times over. Sometimes he managed to quiver a finger, perhaps halt a step, but that was the best he could do.
It was depressing. However, Marsh had always considered himself to be a practical man, and he forced himself to acknowledge the truth. He was never going to gain enough control over his body to kill himself.
Ash fell as he walked through the camp. Did it ever stop these days? He almost wished that Ruin wouldn’t ever let go of his mind. When his mind was his own, Marsh saw only pain and destruction. When Ruin controlled him, however, the falling ash was a thing of beauty, the red sun a marvelous triumph, the world a place of sweetness in its death.
Madness, Marsh thought, approaching the center of camp. I need to go mad. Then I won’t have to deal with all of this.