Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [582]
Outside, he found Vin stirring up the morning fire and Spook caring for the horses. The young man had done some extensive traveling, and he knew how to tend horses—something that Elend was embarrassed to have never learned.
Elend joined Vin at the firepit. They sat for a few moments, Vin poking at the coals. She looked pensive.
“What?” Elend asked.
She glanced southward. “I…” Then she shook her head. “It’s nothing. We’re going to need more wood.” She glanced to the side, toward where their axe lay beside the tent. The weapon flipped up into the air, shooting toward her blade-first. She stepped to the side, snatching the handle as it passed between her and Elend. Then she stalked over to a fallen tree. She took two swings at it, then easily kicked it down and broke it in two.
“She has a way of making the rest of us feel a little redundant, doesn’t she?” Spook asked, stepping up beside Elend.
“At times,” Elend said with a smile.
Spook shook his head. “Whatever I see or hear, she can sense better—and she can fight whatever it is that she finds. Every time I come back to Luthadel, I just feel…useless.”
“Imagine being a regular person,” Elend said. “At least you’re an Allomancer.”
“Maybe,” Spook said, the sound of Vin chopping coming from the side. “But people respect you, El. They just dismiss me.”
“I don’t dismiss you, Spook.”
“Oh?” the young man asked. “When’s the last time I did anything important for the crew?”
“Three days ago,” Elend said. “When you agreed to come with Vin and me. You’re not just here to tend horses, Spook—you’re here because of your skills as a scout and a Tineye. Do you still think we’re being followed?”
Spook paused, then shrugged. “I can’t be sure. I think Straff’s scouts turned back, but I keep catching sight of someone back there. I never get a good glimpse of them, though.”
“It’s the mist spirit,” Vin said, walking by and dumping an armload of wood beside the firepit. “It’s chasing us.”
Spook and Elend shared a look. Then Elend nodded, refusing to act on Spook’s uncomfortable stare. “Well, as long as it stays out of our way, it’s not a problem, right?”
Vin shrugged. “I hope not. If you see it, though, call for me. The records say it can be dangerous.”
“All right,” Elend said. “We’ll do that. Now, let’s decide what to have for breakfast.”
Straff woke up. That was his first surprise.
He lay in bed, inside his tent, feeling like someone had picked him up and slammed him against the wall a few times. He groaned, sitting up. His body was free from bruises, but he ached, and his head was pounding. One of the army healers, a young man with a full beard and bulging eyes, sat beside his bed. The man studied Straff for a moment.
“You, my lord, should be dead,” the young man said.
“I’m not,” Straff said, sitting up. “Give me some tin.”
A soldier approached with a metal vial. Straff downed it, then scowled at how dry and sore his throat was. He burned the tin only lightly; it made his wounds feel worse, but he had come to depend on the slight edge the enhanced senses gave him.
“How long?” he asked.
“Better part of three days, my lord,” the healer said. “We…weren’t sure what you’d eaten, or why. We thought about trying to get you to vomit, but it appeared that you’d taken the draught of your own choice, so…”
“You did well,” Straff said, holding his arm up in front of him. It still shook a bit, and he couldn’t make it stop. “Who is in charge of the army?”
“General Janarle,” the healer said.
Straff nodded. “Why hasn’t he had me killed?”
The healer blinked in surprise, glancing at the soldiers.
“My lord,” said Grent the soldier, “who would dare betray you? Any man who tried would end up dead in his tent. General Janarle was most worried about your safety.”
Of course, Straff realized with shock. They don’t know that Zane is gone. Why…if I did die, then everyone assumes that Zane would either take control himself, or get revenge on those he thought responsible. Straff laughed out loud, shocking those watching over