The Mistborn Trilogy (234 page)

“Yes, lord,” the man said. Behind, more and more people were edging forward, straining to catch a glimpse of TenSoon. He bore their scrutiny with some nervousness. Finally, he bid them be careful, then fled into the night.

He found an empty building and quickly changed back to the dog’s bones before anyone else could see him. When he was done, he eyed the Survivor’s bones, feeling a strange . . . reverence.

Don’t be silly
, he told himself.
They’re just bones, like hundreds of other sets you’ve used
. Still, it seemed foolish to leave such a potentially powerful tool behind. He carefully packed them into the sack he’d pilfered, then—using paws he’d created to have more dexterity than those of a real wolfhound—he tied the sack on his back.

After that, TenSoon left the city by the northern gate, running at full wolfhound speed. He would go to Urteau and hope that he was on the right path.

The pact between Preservation and Ruin is a thing of gods, and difficult to explain in human terms. Indeed, initially, there was a stalemate between them. On one hand, each knew that only by working together could they create. On the other hand, both knew that they would never have complete satisfaction in what they created. Preservation would not be able to keep things perfect and unchanging, and Ruin would not be able to destroy completely.

Ruin, of course, eventually acquired the ability to end the world and gain the satisfaction he wanted. But, then, that wasn’t originally part of the bargain.

SPOOK FOUND HER SITTING
on the rocky lakeshore, looking out across the deep black waters, so still in the cavern’s windless air. In the near distance, Spook could hear Sazed—with a large contingent of Goradel’s men—working on their project to stanch the flow of water into the cavern.

Spook approached Beldre quietly, carrying a mug of warmed tea. It almost seemed to burn his flesh, which meant that it would be just right for normal people. He let his own food and drinks sit out until they cooled to room temperature.

He didn’t wear his eye bandage. With pewter, he’d found that he could withstand a little lantern-light. She didn’t turn as he approached, so he cleared his throat. She jumped slightly. It was no wonder that Quellion worked so hard to shelter the girl—one could not fake Beldre’s level of innocence. She wouldn’t survive three heartbeats in the underground. Even Allrianne, who did her best to look like a puff, had an edge to her that bespoke an ability to be as hard as necessary in order to survive. Beldre, though . . .

She’s normal
, Spook thought.
This is how people would be, if they didn’t have to deal with Inquisitors, armies, and assassins
. For that, he actually envied her. It was a strange feeling, after so many years spent wishing that he were someone more important.

She turned back toward the waters, and he approached and sat beside her.
“Here,” he said, handing her the mug. “I know it gets a bit chilly down here, with the lake and the water.”

She paused, then took the mug. “Thank you,” she whispered. Spook let her roam free in the cavern—there was very little she could sabotage, though he had warned Goradel’s men to keep an eye on her. Either way, there was no way she was going to get out. Spook kept two dozen men guarding the exit, and had ordered the ladder up to the trapdoor above removed, to be replaced only with proper authorization.

“Hard to believe this place was beneath your city all along, isn’t it?” Spook said, trying to work into a conversation. Oddly, it had seemed easier to speak to her when he was confronting her in her gardens, surrounded by danger.

Beldre nodded. “My brother would have loved to find this place. He worries about food supplies. Fewer and fewer fish are being caught in the northern lakes. And crops . . . well, they’re not doing so well, I hear.”

“The mists,” Spook said. “They don’t let enough sunlight through for most plants.”

Beldre nodded, looking down at her mug. She hadn’t taken a sip yet.

“Beldre,” Spook said, “I’m sorry. I actually considered kidnapping you from those gardens, but decided against it. However, with you showing up here, alone . . .”

“It was just too good an opportunity,” she said bitterly. “I understand. It’s my own fault. My brother always says I’m too trusting.”

“There are times that would be an advantage.”

Beldre sniffed quietly. “I’ve never known such times as that. It seems my entire life, I’ve just trusted and been hurt. This is no different.”

Spook sat, feeling frustrated with himself.
Kelsier, tell me what to say!
he thought. Yet, God remained silent. The Survivor didn’t seem to have much advice about things that didn’t relate to securing the city.

It had all seemed so simple when Spook had given the order to capture her. Why, now, was he sitting here with this empty pit in his stomach?

“I believed in him, you know,” Beldre said.

“Your brother?”

“No,” she said with a slight shake of her head. “The Lord Ruler. I was a good little noblewoman. I always gave my payments to the obligators—paying extra, even, and calling them in to witness the smallest things. I also paid them to come tutor me in the history of the empire. I thought everything was perfect. So neat; so peaceful. And then, they tried to kill me. Turns out I’m half skaa. My father wanted a child so desperately, and my mother was barren. He had two children with one of the maidservants—my mother even approved.”

She shook her head. “Why would someone do that?” she continued. “I mean, why not pick a noblewoman? No. My father chose the servant woman. I guess he fancied her or something. . . .” She looked down.

“For me, it was my grandfather,” Spook said. “I never knew him. Grew up on the streets.”

“Sometimes I wish
I
had,” Beldre said. “Then maybe this would all make
sense. What do you do when the priests you’ve been paying to tutor you since you were a child—men you trusted more than your own parents—come to take you away for execution? I would have died, too. I just went with them. Then . . .”

“Then what?” Spook asked.

“You saved me,” she whispered. “The Survivor’s crew. You overthrew the Lord Ruler, and in the chaos, everybody forgot about people like me. The obligators were too busy trying to please Straff.”

“And then, your brother took over.”

She nodded quietly. “I thought he’d be a good ruler. He really is a good man! He just wants everything to be stable and secure. Peace for everyone. Yet, sometimes, the things he
does
to people . . . the things he
asks
of people . . .”

“I’m sorry,” Spook said.

She shook her head. “And then you came. You rescued that child, right in front of Quellion and me. You came to my gardens, and you didn’t even threaten me. I thought . . . maybe he really is as the stories say. Maybe he’ll help. And, like the idiot I always am, I just came.”

“I wish things were simple, Beldre,” Spook said. “I wish I could let you go. But, this is for the greater good.”

“That’s just what Quellion always says, you know,” she said.

Spook paused.

“You’re a lot alike, you two,” she said. “Forceful. Commanding.”

Spook chuckled. “You really don’t know me very well, do you?”

She flushed. “You’re the Survivor of the Flames. Don’t think I haven’t heard the rumors—my brother can’t keep me out of
all
of his conferences.”

“Rumors,” Spook said, “are rarely reliable.”

“You’re a member of the Survivor’s crew.”

Spook shrugged. “That’s true. Though, I became a member by accident.”

She frowned, glancing at him.

“Kelsier handpicked the others,” Spook said. “Ham, Breeze, Sazed—even Vin. He chose my uncle too. And, by doing so, he got me as a bonus. I . . . I was never really part of it all, Beldre. I was kind of like an observer. They posted me on watch and things like that. I sat in on the planning sessions, and everyone just treated me like an errand boy. I must have refilled Breeze’s cup a hundred times during that first year!”

A hint of amusement showed on her face. “You make it sound like you were a servant.”

“Pretty much,” Spook said, smiling. “I couldn’t talk very well—I’d grown used to speaking in an Eastern street slang, and everything I said came out garbled. I’ve still got an accent, they tell me. So, I just stayed quiet most of the time, embarrassed. The crew was nice to me, but I knew I was pretty much just ignored.”

“And now you’re in charge of them all.”

Spook laughed. “No. Sazed’s the one really in charge of us here. Breeze ranks me too, but he lets me give orders because he’s too lazy to do so. He likes to make people do things without them knowing it. Half the time, I’m certain that the things I’m saying are just ideas he somehow got into my head.”

Beldre shook her head. “The Terrisman is in charge? But, he looks to you!”

“He just lets me do what he doesn’t want to,” Spook said. “Sazed’s a great man—one of the best I’ve known. But, well, he’s a scholar. He’s better off studying a project and writing notes than he is giving commands. So, that only leaves me. I’m just doing the job that everyone else is too busy to do.”

Beldre sat quietly for a moment, then finally took a sip of her tea. “Ah,” she said. “It’s good!”

“The Lord Ruler’s own brew, for all we know,” Spook said. “We found it down here, with the rest of this stuff.”

“This is why you came, isn’t it?” Beldre asked, nodding to the cavern. “I wondered why your emperor cared about Urteau. We haven’t really been an important force in the world since the Venture line moved its center of power to Luthadel.”

Spook nodded. “This is part of it, though Elend is also worried about the rebellion up here. It’s dangerous, having a foe who is slaughtering noblemen controlling one of the major cities just a short distance north of Luthadel. That’s all I can really tell you, though. Most of the time, I feel like I’m
still
just a bystander in all of this. Vin and Elend, they’re the ones who really know what’s going on. To them, I’m the guy they could spare to spend months spying in Urteau while they did important work in the South.”

“They are wrong to treat you so,” Beldre said.

“No, it’s all right,” Spook said. “I’ve kind of enjoyed being up here. I feel like I’ve been able to do something, finally.”

She nodded. After a short time, she set down her cup, wrapping her arms around her knees. “What are they like?” she asked. “I’ve heard so many stories. They say that Emperor Venture always wears white, and that the ash refuses to stick to him! He can quell an army just by looking at them. And his wife, the Survivor’s heir. Mistborn . . .”

Spook smiled. “Elend is a forgetful scholar—twice as bad as Sazed ever was. He gets lost in his books and forgets about meetings he himself called. He only dresses with any sense of fashion because a Terriswoman bought him a new wardrobe. War has changed him some, but on the inside, I think he’s still just a dreamer caught in a world with too much violence.

“And Vin . . . well, she really
is
different. I’ve never been sure what to make of her. Sometimes, she seems as frail as a child. And then she kills an Inquisitor. She can be fascinating and frightening at the same time. I tried to court her once.”

“Really?” Beldre said, perking up.

Spook smiled. “I gave her a handkerchief. I heard that’s how you do it in noble society.”

“Only if you’re a romantic,” Beldre said, smiling wistfully.

“Well, I gave her one,” Spook said. “But I don’t think she knew what I meant by it. And, of course, once she
did
figure it out, she turned me down. I’m not sure what I was thinking, trying to court her. I mean, I’m just Spook. Quiet, incomprehensible, forgettable Spook.”

He closed his eyes.
What am I saying?
Women didn’t want to hear men talk
about how insignificant they were. He’d heard that much.
I shouldn’t have come to talk to her. I should have just gone about, giving orders. Looking like I was in charge.

The damage had been done, however. She knew the truth about him. He sighed, opening his eyes.

“I don’t think you’re forgettable,” Beldre said. “Of course, I’d be
more
likely to think fondly of you if you were to let me go.”