Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [295]
Sazed sighed. “I fear that the only person who could have answered these questions died this morning.”
Vin paused. The Lord Ruler had held secrets about the Terris religion that Sazed’s people had been searching for centuries to find. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have killed him.”
Sazed shook his head. “His own aging would have killed him soon anyway, Mistress. What you did was right. This way, I can record that the Lord Ruler was struck down by one of the skaa he had oppressed.”
Vin flushed. “Record?”
“Of course. I am still a Keeper, Mistress. I must pass these things on—history, events, and truths.”
“You won’t…say too much about me, will you?” For some reason the idea of other people telling stories about her made her uncomfortable.
“I wouldn’t worry too much, Mistress,” Sazed said with a smile. “My brethren and I will be very busy, I think. We have so much to restore, so much to tell the world…. I doubt details about you need to be passed on with any urgent timing. I will record what happened, but I will keep it to myself for a while, if you wish.”
“Thank you,” Vin said, nodding.
“That power that the Lord Ruler found in the cave,” Marsh said speculatively, “perhaps it was just Allomancy. You said that there is no record of any Allomancers before the Ascension.”
“It is indeed a possibility, Master Marsh,” Sazed said. “There are very few legends about the origins of Allomancy, and nearly all of them agree that Allomancers first ‘appeared with the mists.’”
Vin frowned. She’d always assumed that the title “Mistborn” had come about because Allomancers tended to do their work at night. She’d never considered that there might be a stronger connection.
Mist reacts to Allomancy. It swirls when an Allomancer uses his abilities nearby. And…what did I feel at the end? It was like I drew something from the mists.
Whatever she’d done, she hadn’t been able to replicate it.
Marsh sighed and stood. He had been awake only a few hours, but he already seemed tired. His head hung slightly, as if the weight of the spikes were pulling it down.
“Does that…hurt, Marsh?” she asked. “The spikes, I mean?”
He paused. “Yes. All eleven of them…throb. The pain reacts to my emotions somehow.”
“Eleven?” Vin asked with shock.
Marsh nodded. “Two in the head, eight in the chest, one in the back to seal them together. That’s the only way to kill an Inquisitor—you have to separate the top spikes from the bottom ones. Kell did it through a beheading, but it’s easier to just pull out the middle spike.”
“We thought you were dead,” Vin said. “When we found the body and the blood at the Soothing station…”
Marsh nodded. “I was going to send word of my survival, but they watched me fairly closely that first day. I didn’t expect Kell to make his move so quickly.”
“None of us did, Master Marsh,” Sazed said. “None of us expected it at all.”
“He actually did it, didn’t he?” Marsh said, shaking his head in wonder. “That bastard. There are two things I’ll never forgive him for. The first is for stealing my dream of overthrowing the Final Empire, then actually succeeding at it.”
Vin paused. “And the second?”
Marsh turned spike-heads toward her. “Getting himself killed to do it.”
“If I may ask, Master Marsh,” Sazed said. “Who was that corpse that Mistress Vin and Master Kelsier discovered at the Soothing station?”
Marsh looked back over the city. “There were several corpses, actually. The process to create a new Inquisitor is…messy. I’d rather not speak about it.”
“Of course,” Sazed said, bowing his head.
“You, however,” Marsh said, “could tell me about this creature that Kelsier used to imitate Lord Renoux.”
“The kandra?” Sazed said. “I fear even the Keepers know little of them. They are related to mistwraiths