Mistborn: The Hero of Ages (54 page)

"Either that," Sazed said, "or he can't get past the soldiers watching outside."

"He snuck into a burning building while we were watching, my dear man," Breeze said, "I doubt he'd have trouble with a bunch of toughs, especially now that it's dark out." Allrianne shook her head. "It would have been better if he'd managed to sneak
out
of that building as well, rather than j umping off the roof in f ront of everyone." "Perhaps," Breeze said. "But, p art of being a vigilante rebel is letting your enemies know what you are about. The psychological effect produced by leaping from a burning building carrying a child is quite sound. And, to do that right in front of the tyrant who tried to execute said child? I wasn't aware that dear little Spook had such a f lair for drama!"

"He's not so little anymore, I think," Sazed said quietly. "We have a habit of ignoring Spook too much."

"Habits come from reinforcement, my dear man," Breeze said, wagging a fork at Sazed. "We paid little attention to the lad because he rarely had an important role to play. It isn't his fault he was simply young."

"Vin was young as well, " S azed noted.

"Vin, you must admit, is something of a special case."

Sazed couldn't argue with that.

"Either way," Breeze said, "when we look at the facts, what happened isn't really all that surprising. Spook has had months to become known to Urteau's underground population, and he is of the Survivor's own crew. It is logical that they would begin to look to him to save them, much as Kelsier saved Luthadel ." "We're forgetting one thing, Lord Breeze," Sazed said. "He jumped from a rooftop ledge two stories up and landed on a cobbled street. Men do not survive falls like that without broken bones."

Breeze paused. "Staged, you think? Perhaps he worked out some kind of landing platform to sof ten the fall ?"

Sazed shook his head. "I believe it a stretch to assume that Spook could plan, and execute, a staged rescue like that. He would have needed the aid of the underground, which would have ruined the effect. If they knew that his survival was a trick, then we wouldn't have heard the rumors we did about him." "What, then?" Breeze asked, shooting a glance at Allrianne. "You're not truly suggesting that Spook has been Mistborn all this time, are you? " "I do not know," Sazed said softly. Breeze shook his head, chuckling. "I doubt he could have hidden that from us, my dear man. Why, he would have had to go through that entire mess of overthrowing the Lord Ruler, then the fall of Luthadel, without ever revealing that he was anything more than a Tineye! I ref use to accept that."
Or ,
Sazed thought,
you re f use to accept that you wouldn't have detected the truth.
Still, Breeze had a point. S azed had known Spook as a youth. The boy had been awkward and shy, but he hadn't been deceitful. It was truly a stretch to imagine him to have been a Mistborn from the beginning. Yet, Sazed had seen that fall. He had seen the grace of the jump, the distinctive poise and natural dexterity of one burning pewter. Sazed found himself wishing for his copperminds so that he coul d search for references about people spontaneously manif esting Allomantic powers. Could a man be a Misting early in life, then transform to a full Mistborn later?

It was a simple thing, related to his duties as an ambassador. Perhaps he could spend just a little time looking through his stored memories, seeking examples. . . . He paused.
Don 't be silly,
he thought.
You 're just looking f or excuses. You
know
that it's impossible for an A llomancer to gain new
powers. You won't f ind any
examples because
there aren't
any. He didn't need to look through his metalminds. He had set those aside for a very good reason he could not be a Keeper, could not share the knowledge he'd collected, until he could sort the truth from the lies.

I've let m ysel f get distracted latel y, he thought with determination, rising from his place and leaving the others behind. He walked over to his "room" in the cache, with the sheets hung there cutting off his view of the others. Sitting on the table was his portfolio. In the corner, next to a shelf full of cans, sat his sack full of metalminds.

No, Sazed thought.
I made a promise to m yself. I will keep it. I will not allow m ysel f to become a
hypocrite simply because some new religion appears and waves at me. I will be strong.
He sat down at the table, opening his portfolio, taking out the next sheet in the line. It listed the tenets of the Nelazan people, who had worshipped the god Trell. Sazed had always been partial to this religion because of its focus on learning and study of mathematics and the heavens. He'd saved it for near the end, but had done so more out of worry than anything else. He'd wanted to put off what he'd known would happen.

Sure enough, as he read about the religion, he saw the holes in its doctrines. True, the Nelazan had known a great deal about astronomy, but their teachings on the af terlife were sketchy almost whimsical . Their doctrine was purposefully vague, they'd taught, allowing all men to discover truth for themselves. Reading this, however, left Sazed frustrated. What good was a religion without answers ? Why believe in something if the response to half of his questions was "Ask Trell, and he will answer"?

He didn't dismiss the religion immediately. He forced himself to put it aside, acknowledging to himself that he wasn't in the right mood for studying. He didn't feel like he was in the mood for much, actually.

What i f Spook reall y has become Mistborn? he wondered, mind getting drawn back to the previous conversation. It seemed impossible. Yet, a lot of things they thought they'd known about Allomancy such as the existence of only ten metals had turned out to be falsehoods taught by the Lord Ruler to hide some powerful secrets.

Perhaps it
was
possible for an Allomancer to spontaneously manif est new powers. Or, perhaps there was a more mundane reason Spook had managed such a long fall. It could be related to the thing that made Spook's eyes so sensitive. Drugs, perhaps?

Either way, Sazed's worry about what was happening kept him from being able to f ocus on studying the Nelazan religion as he should. He kept getting the feeling that something very important was occurring. And Spook was at the center of it.

Where was that boy?

"I know why you're so sad," Spook said.

Beldre turned, shock showing on her face . She didn't see him at first. He must have been too deep in the misty shadows. It was growing hard for him to tell . He stepped forward, moving across the plot of land that had once been a garden outside the Citizen's home . "I figured it out," Spook said. "At first, I thought that sadness had to do with this garden. It must have been beautiful, once. You would have seen it in its fullness, before your brother ordered all gardens plowed under. You were related to nobility, and probably lived in their society."

She looked surprised at this.

"Yes, I know," Spook said. "Your brother is an Allomancer. He's a Coinshot; I f elt his Pushes. That day at Marketpit."

She remained silent more beautiful herself than the garden could ever have been though she did take a step backward as her eyes f inally found him in the mists. "Eventually," Spook continued, "I decided that I must be wrong. Nobody mourns so much for a simple garden, no matter how lovely. After that, I thought the sadness in your eyes must come from being forbidden to take part in your brother's councils. He always sends you out, into the garden, when he meets with his most important officials. I know what it's like to feel useless and excluded among important people."

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He took another step forward. The rough earth lay torn beneath his f eet, covered by an inch of ash, the dreary remnants of what had once been fertile ground. To his right stood the lone shrub that Beldre often came to gaze at. He didn't look toward it; he kept his eyes on her.

"I was wrong," he said. "Being forbidden your brother's conferences would lead to frustration, but not such pain. Not such regret. I know that sorrow now. I killed for the first time this afternoon. I helped overthrow empires, then helped build them anew. And I'd never killed a man. Not until today." He stopped, then looked into her eyes. "Yes, I know that sorrow. What I'm trying figure out is why you feel it."

She turned away. "You shouldn't be here," she said. "There are guards watching "

"No," Spook said. "Not anymore. Quellion sent too many men into the city he's afraid that he'll suffer a revolution, like happened in Luthadel. Like he himself inspired here when he seized power. He's right to be afraid, but he was wrong to leave his own palace so poorly guarded."

"Kill him," Kelsier whispered. "Quellion is inside; this is the perfect chance. He deserves it, you know he does."

No, Spook thought. Not today. Not in front of her.

Beldre glanced back at him, her eyes growing hard. "Why have you come? To taunt me ? "

"To tell you that I understand," Spook said.

"How can you say that?" she said. " You don't understand me you don't know me ."

"I think I do," Spook said. "I saw your eyes today, when you watched those people being marched to their deaths. You feel guilty. Guilty for your brother's murders. You sorrow because you feel you should be able to stop him." He took a step forward. "You can't, Beldre. He's been corrupted by his power. He might once have been a good man, but no longer. Do you realize what he's doing? Your brother is murdering people simply to get Allomancers. He captures them, then threatens to kill their families unless they do as he asks . Are those the actions of a good man? "

"You are a simplistic fool," Beldre whispered, though she wouldn't meet his eyes .

"I know," Spook said. "What are a few deaths when it comes to securing the stability of a kingdom? " He paused, then shook his head. "He's killing children, Beldre. And he's doing it simply to cover up the fact that he's gathering Allomancers."

Beldre was silent for a moment. "Go," she finally said.

"I want you to come with me."

She looked up.

"I'm going to overthrow your brother," Spook said. "I am a member of the Survivor's own crew. We took down the Lord Ruler Quellion will hardly provide us with a challenge. You don't have to be here when he falls."

Beldre snorted quietly in derisi on.

"It's not just about your safety," Spook said. "If you j oin with us, it will be a strong blow to your brother. Perhaps it will convince him that he is wrong. There could be a more peaceful way of making this happen."

"I'm going to start screaming in three heartbeats," Beldre said.

"I don't fear your guards," Spook said.

"I don't doubt that," Beldre said. "But if they come, you'll have to kill again." Spook wavered. He stayed where he was, however, calling her bluff.

And so she started screaming.

"Go kill him ! " Kelsier said over her screams. "Now, before it's too late! Those guards you killed they were just following orders.
Quellion,
he's the true monster." Spook ground his teeth in frustration, then f inally ran, fleeing from Beldre and her screams, leaving Quellion alive. For the moment.

The group of rings, clasps, ear loops, bracelets, and other bits of metal gleamed on the table like a treasure hoard of legend. Of course, most of the metals were rather mundane. Iron, steel, tin, copper. No gold or atium.

Yet, to a Feruchemist, the metals were worth far more than their economic value. They were batteries, stores that could be filled, then drawn upon. One made of pewter, for instance, could be filled with strength. Filling it would drain the Feruchemist of strength for a time making him weak enough that simple tasks grew diff icult but the price was worthwhile. For, when necessary, he could draw that strength forth.

Many of these metalminds, spread out on the table in front of Sazed, were empty at the moment. Sazed had last used them during the horrif ic battle that had ended with the fall then rescue of Luthadel over a year before. That battle had left him drained in more ways than one. Ten rings, lined up on the side of the table, had been used to nearly kill him. Marsh had shot them at Sazed like coins, piercing his skin. That, however, had allowed Sazed to draw forth their power and heal himself. At the very center of the collection were the most important metalminds of all. Four bracers meant to clasp on to the upper or lower arms sat gleaming and polished, made of the purest copper. They were the largest of his metalminds, for they held the most. Copper carried memories. A Feruchemist could take images, thoughts, or sounds that were fresh in his mind, then store them away. While inside, they wouldn't decay or change, as memories could while held in the mind. When Sazed had been a young man, an older Feruchemist had read out the entire contents of his copperminds . Sazed had stored the knowledge in his own copperminds; they contained the sum total of Keeper knowledge. The Lord Ruler had worked hard to smother people's memories of the past. But the Keepers had gathered them stories of how the world had been before the ash came and the sun had turned red. The Keepers had memorized the names of places and of kingdoms, had gathered the wisdom of those who were lost. And they had memorized the re ligions that had been forbidden by the Lord Ruler. These he had worked the most diligently to destroy, and so the Keepers had worked with equal diligence to rescue them to secure them away inside of metalminds, so someday they could be taught again. Above all, the Keepers had searched for one thing: knowledge of their own religion, the beliefs of the Terris people. Those had been forgotten during the destructive chaos following the Lord Ruler's ascension. However, despite centuries of work, the Keepers had never recovered this most precious knowledge of all.

I wonder what would have happened if we had found it , Sazed thought, picking up a steelmind and quietly polishing it.
Probably nothing.
He'd given up on his work with the religions in his portfolio for the moment, feeling too discouraged to study.

There were fifty religions left in his portfolio. Why was he deluding himself, hoping to find any more truth in them than he had in the previous two hundred and fif ty? None of the religions had managed to survive the years. Shouldn't he just let them be? Looking through them seemed to be part of the great fallacy in the work of the Keepers. They'd struggled to remember the beliefs of men, but those beliefs had already proven they lacked the resilience to survive. Why bring them back to life? That seemed as pointless as reviving a sickly animal so it could fall to predators again. He continued to polish. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Breeze watching him. The Soother had come to Sazed's "room," compl aining that he couldn't sleep, not with Spook still outside somewhere. Sazed had nodded, but continued polishing. He didn't wish to get into a conversation; he just wanted to be alone. Breeze, unfortunately, stood and came over. " S ometimes, I don't understand you, Sazed," Breeze said.