Mistborn: The Hero of Ages (68 page)

"I've taken care of that," Spook said. "Durn is going to make certain the people know to be clear of the waterways."

Sazed nodded. Spook couldn't help but be impressed. The complicated construct of wood, gears, and wire looked like it should have taken months to build, not weeks. Large nets of rocks weighed down the four gates, which hung, ready to block off the river.

"This is amazing, Saze," Spook said. "With a sign as spectacular as the reappearance of the canal waters, the people will be
certain
to listen to us instead of the Citizen." Breeze and Durn's men had been working hard over the last few weeks, whispering to the people to watch for a miracle from the Survivor of the Flames. Something extraordinary, something to prove once and for all who was the rightful master of the city.

"It is the best I could do," Saze d said with a modest bow of the head. "The seals won't be perfectly tight, of course. However, that should matter little." "Men?" Spook said, turning to four of Goradel's soldiers. "You understand what you are to do?"

"Yes, sir," the lead soldier said. "We wait for a messenger, then throw the lever there . "

"If no messenger comes," Spook said, "throw the switch at nightfall."

"And," Sazed said, raising a f inger, "don't forget to twist the sealing mechanism in the other room, plugging the water flow
out
of this chamber. Otherwise, the lake will eventually empty. Better that we keep this reservoir f ull, j ust in case."

"Yes, sir," the soldier said with a nod.

Spook turned, looking back over the cavern. Soldiers bustled about, preparing. He was going to need most of them for the night's activities. They looked eager they'd spent too long holed up in the cavern and the building above. To the side, Beldre regarded Sazed's contraption with interest. Spook broke away from the soldiers, approaching her with a quick step.

"You're really going to do it? " she said. "Return the water to the canals?" Spook nodded.

"I sometimes imagined what it would be like to have the waters back," she said. " The city wouldn't feel as barren it would become important, like it was during the early days of the Final Empire. All those beautiful waterways. No more ugly gashes in the ground."

"It will be a wonderful sight," Spook said, smiling.

Beldre just shook her head. "It . . . amazes me that you can be such different people at the same time. How can the man who would do such a beautiful thing for my city also plan such destruction? "

"Beldre, I'm not planning to destroy your city."

"Just its government."

"I do what needs to be done. "

"Men say that so easily," Beldre said. "Yet, everybody seems to have a different opinion of what

'needs' to be done."

"Your brother had his chance," Spook said.

Beldre looked down. She still carried with her the letter they'd received earlier in the day a response from Quellion. Beldre's plea had been heartfelt, but the Citizen had responded with insults, implying that she had been forced to write the words because she was being held prisoner. I do not f ear a usur per
,
the letter read. I am protected by the Survivor himsel f. You will not have this cit y, tyrant .

Beldre looked up. "Don't
do it," she whispered.
" Give him more time . Please."
Spook hesitated.

"There is no more time," Kelsier whispered. "Do what must be done."

"I'm sorry, " Spook said, turning from her. " Stay with the soldiers I'm leaving four men to guard you. Not to keep you from f leeing, though they will do that. I want you inside this cavern. I can't promise that the streets will be safe."

He heard her sniffle quietly behind him. He left her standing there, then walked toward the gathering group of soldiers. One man brought Spook his dueling canes and singed cloak. Goradel stood at the front of his soldiers, looking proud. "We're ready, my lord."

Breeze walked up beside him, shaking his head, dueling cane tapping the ground. He sighed. "Well, here we go again. . . ."

The evening's occasion was a speech Quellion had been publicizing for some time. He had stopped executions recently, as if finally realizing that the deaths were contributing to the instability of his rule. He apparently intended to swing back toward benevolence, holding rallies, emphasizing the wonderful things he was doing for the city.

Spook walked alone, a little ahe ad of Breeze, Allrianne, and Sazed, who chatted behind. S ome of Goradel's soldiers followed as well, wearing common Urteau garb. Spook had split their force, sending it by different paths. It wasn't dark yet to Spook the falling sun was bright, forcing him to wear his blindfold and spectacles. Quellion liked to hold his speeches in the evening, so that the mists arrived during them. He liked the implied connection to the Survivor.

A figure hobbled out of a side streetslot next to Spook. Durn walked with a stooped posture, a cloak obscuring his f igure. Spo ok respected the twisted man's insistence on leaving the security of the Harrows, going out to run jobs himself. Perhaps that was why he'd ended up as leader of the city's underground. "People are gathering, as expected," Durn said, coughing quietly. "Some of your soldiers are already there ."

Spook nodded.

"Things are . . . unsettled in the city," Durn said. "It worries me. Segments I can't control have already started looting some of the prohibited noble mansions. My men are all busy trying to get people out of the streetslots."

"It will be all right," Spook said. "Most of the populace will be at the speech." Durn was silent for a moment. "Word is that Quellion is going to use his speech to denounce you, then finally order an attack on the Ministry building where you're staying."

"It's a good thing we won't be there, then," Spook said. "He shouldn't have withdrawn his soldiers, even if he
did
need them to keep order in the city." Durn nodded.

"What?" Spook said.

"I just hope you can handle this, lad. Once this night is through, the city will be yours. Treat it better than Quellion did."

"I will," Spook said.

"My men will create a disturbance for you at the meeting. Farewell." Durn took the next left, disappearing down another streetslot alleyway. Ahead, the crowds were already gathering. Spook put up the hood of his cloak, keeping his eyes obscured as he wove his way through the crowd. He quickly left Sazed and the others behind, pushing his way up a ramp to the old city square the place Quellion had chosen for his speech. His men had erected a wooden stage, from which the Citizen could face the crowd. The speech was already in progress. Spook stopped just a short distance away from a guard patrol. Many of Quellion's soldiers surrounded the stage, eyeing the crowd. Minutes passed, and Spook spent them listening to Quellion's voice ring, yet paying no attention to the words . Ash fell around him, dusting the crowd. Mists began to twist in the air. He listened, listened with ears no other man had. He used Allomancy's strange ability to filter and ignore hearing through the chatter and whispers and shuffles and coughs, j ust as he could somehow see through the obscuring mists. He heard the city. Yells in the distance.

It was beginning.

"Too fast !" a voice whispered, a beggar moving up to Spook's side. "Durn sends word. Riots in the streets, ones he didn't start ! Durn cannot control them. My lord, the city is beginning to burn!"

"It was a night not unlike this one," another voice whispered. Kelsier's voice. "A glorious night. When I took the city of Luthadel, and made it mine ." A disturbance began at the back of the crowd; Durn's men were causing their distraction. S ome of Quellion's guards pulled away to quell this nearby riot. The Citizen continued to shout his accusations . Spook heard his own name in Quellion's words, but the context was simply noise.

Spook tilted his head back, looking up at the sky. Ash f ell toward him, as if he were sailing through it into the air. Like a Mistborn.

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His hood fell back. Men around him whispered in surprise.

A clock rang in the distance. Goradel's soldiers rushed the stage. Around him, Spook could feel a glow rising. The fires of rebellion, burning in the city. Just like the night he had overthrown the Lord Ruler. The torches of revolution. Then the people had put Elend on the throne. This time, it would be Spook they elevated.

Weak no more,
he thought.
Never weak again!

The last of Quellion's soldiers rushed away from the stage, moving into combat with Goradel's men. The crowd shied away from the battle, but nobody ran. They had been prepared well for the night's events. Many would be waiting, watching for the signs Spook and Durn had promised signs revealed just a few hours before, to minimize the risk of Quellion's spies learning Spook's plan. A miracle in the canals, and proof that Quellion was an Allomancer.

If the Citizen or even any of his guards on the stage shot coins or used Allomancy to leap into the air, the people would see. They would know that they had been deceived. And that would be the end. The crowd surged away f rom the cursing soldiers, and their withdrawal left Spook standing alone. Quellion's voice finally trailed off. Some of his soldiers were rushing up to get him off the stage. Quellion's eyes found Spook. Only then did they show fear.

Spook leaped. He couldn't Steelpush himself, but his legs were fueled by the power of flared pewter. He soared up, easily cresting the lip of the stage, landing in a crouch. He pulled f ree a dueling c ane, then rushed the Citizen.

Behind him, people began to cry out. Spook heard his name, Survivor of the Flames. Survivor. He wouldn't j ust kill Quellion, but destroy him. Undermining his rule, just as Breeze had suggested. At that moment, the Soother and Allrianne would be manipulating the crowd, keeping them from running away in a panic. Holding them there.

So they could watch the show Spook was about to give.

The guards at Quellion's side saw Spook too late. He dropped the f irst one easily, crushing the man's skull inside his helmet. Quellion screamed for more help. Spook swung at another man, but his target moved out of the way, supernaturally quick. Spook pulled to the side just in time to dodge a blow, the weapon grazing the side of his cheek. The man was an Allomancer a pewter burner. The large brute who carried no sword, but instead an obsidian-edged cudgel.
Pewter isn't spectacular enough,
Spook thought.
The people won't know how to tell if a man is swinging too quickly or enduring too much. I
have to make Quellion shoot coins.

The Thug
backed away, obviously noting Spook's own increased speed. He kept his weapon raised warily, but did not attack. He j ust had to stall, letting his companion pull Quellion away. The Thug would be no easy fight he would be more skilled than Spook, and even stronger.

"Your family is free," Spook lied quietly. "We saved them earlier. Help us capture Quellion he no longer has a hold on you."

The Thug paused, lowering his weapon.

"Kill him!" Kelsier snapped.

That hadn't been Spook's plan, but he responded to the prompting. He dodged inside the Thug's reach. The man turned in shock, and as he did, Spook delivered a backhanded blow to the skull . Spook's dueling cane shattered. The Thug stumbled to the ground, and Spook snatched up the man's fallen weapon, the obsidian-lined cudgel.

Quellion was at the edge of the stage. Spook jumped, sailing across the wooden platf orm. It was all right for him to use Allomancy; he hadn't preached against it. Only Quellion the hypocrite needed to f ear using his powers.

Spook cut down the remaining guard as he landed the jagged shards of obsidian ripping through f lesh. The soldier fell, and Quellion spun. "I don't fear you!" Quellion said, voice shaking. "I'm protected!"

"Kill him," Kelsier ordered, appearing visibly on the stage a short distance away. Usually, the Survivor only spoke in his mind; he hadn't actually appeared since that day in the burning building. It meant important things were happening.

Spook grabbed the Citizen by the front of his shirt, yanking him forward. Spook raised the length of wood, blood dripping from the obsidian shards onto the side of his hand.

" No! "

Spook froze at that voice, then glanced to the side.
She
was there, shoving her way through the crowd, approaching the open space before the stage . "
Beldre
?" Spook asked. "How did you get out of the cavern?"

But, of course, she couldn't he ar him. Only Spook's supernatural hearing had allowed him to pick her voice out of the sounds of fear and battle . He met her eyes across the distance, and saw her whispered words more than he heard them.

Please. You promised.

"Kill him!"

Quellion chose that moment to try and pull away. Spook turned, yanking back again harder this time, nearly ripping Quellion's shirt free as he threw the man down to the wooden platform. Quellion cried out in pain, and Spook raised his brutal weapon with both hands.

Something sparked in the firelight. Spook barely felt the impact, though it shook him. He stumbled, looking down, seeing blood on his side. Something had pierced the f lesh of his left arm and shoulder. Not an arrow, though it had moved like one. His arm drooped, and though he couldn't feel the pain, it seemed that his muscles weren't working properly.

Something hit me. A . .
. coin.

He turned. Beldre stood at the front of the crowd, crying, her hand raised toward him. She was there that day I was captured, Spook thought numbly, at her brother's side. He
always keeps
her near. To protect her, we thought.

Or the other way around?

Spook stood up straighter, Quellion whimpering in f ront of him. Spook's arm dripped a trail of blood from where Beldre's coin had hit, but he ignored it, staring at her.

"You were always the Allomancer," he whispered. "Not your brother." And then, the crowd began to scream likely prompted by Breeze. " The Citizen's sister is an Allomancer !"

"Hypocrite !"

"Liar!"

"He killed my uncle, yet left his own sister alive !"