Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [357]
“As we move beyond the main entryway, this architectural theme continues. There are no paintings on the walls, nor are there wooden adornments or tile floors. Instead, there are only the long, broad hallways with their harsh lines and reflective surfaces. The floor is constructed of steel squares, each a few feet across. They are…cold to the touch.
“It is strange not to see the tapestries, stained-glass windows, and sculpted stones that are so common in Luthadel’s architecture. There are no spires or vaultings here. Just squares and rectangles. Lines…so many lines. Nothing here is soft. No carpet, no rugs, no windows. It is a place for people who see the world differently from ordinary men.
“Marsh walked straight down this massive hallway, as if oblivious to its decor. I will follow him, then come back to record more later. He seems to be following something…something I cannot sense. Perhaps it is…”
Sazed trailed off as he stepped around a bend and saw Marsh standing in the doorway of a large chamber. The lamplight flickered unevenly as Sazed’s arm quivered.
Marsh had found the servants.
They had been dead long enough that Sazed hadn’t noticed the scent until he had come close. Perhaps that was what Marsh had been following; the senses of a man burning tin could be quite acute.
The Inquisitors had done their work thoroughly. These were the remnants of a slaughter. The room was large, but had only one exit, and the bodies were piled high near the back, killed by what looked like harsh sword or axe strokes. The servants had huddled up against the back wall as they died.
Sazed turned away.
Marsh, however, remained in the doorway. “There is a bad air about this place,” he finally said.
“You have only just noticed that?” Sazed asked.
Marsh turned, glancing at him, demanding his gaze. “We should not spend much time here. There are stairs at the end of the hallway behind us. I will go up—that is where the Inquisitors’ quarters will be. If the information I seek is here, I will find it there. You may stay, or you may descend. However, do not follow me.”
Sazed frowned. “Why?”
“I must be alone here. I cannot explain it. I do not care if you witness Inquisitor atrocities. I just…do not wish to be with you when you do.”
Sazed lowered his lamp, turning its light away from the horrific scene. “Very well.”
Marsh turned, brushing past Sazed and disappearing into the dark hallway. And Sazed was alone.
He tried not to think about that very much. He returned to the main hallway, describing the slaughter to his coppermind before giving a more detailed explanation of the architecture and the art—if, indeed, that was what the different patterns on the wall plates could be called.
As he worked—his voice echoing quietly against the rigid architecture, his lamp a weak drop of light reflected in steel—his eyes were drawn toward the back of the hallway. There was a pool of darkness there. A stairwell, leading down.
Even as he turned back to his description of one of the wall mounts, he knew that he would eventually find himself walking toward that darkness. It was the same as ever—the curiosity, the need to understand the unknown. This sense had driven him as a Keeper, had led him to Kelsier’s company. His search for truths could never be completed, but neither could it be ignored. So, he eventually turned and approached the stairwell, his own whispering voice his only companion.
“The stairs are akin to what I saw in the hallway. They are broad and expansive, like the steps leading up to a temple or palace. Except, these go down, into darkness. They are large, likely cut from stone and then lined with steel. They are tall, meant for a determined stride.
“As I walk, I wonder what secrets the Inquisitors deemed worthy of hiding below the earth, in the basement of their stronghold. This entire building is a secret. What did they do here, in these massive hallways and open, empty rooms?
“The stairwell ends in another large, square room. I