Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [743]
“None of your business.”
“We can’t let the boy go,” one of the skaa said. “He’ll betray us! Once they catch him, he’ll tell them that we knew!”
“They won’t catch him,” the gnarled man said, taking another bite of food. “He’ll be with me, in Luthadel. Besides, if you don’t let him go, I’ll just go ahead and tell the obligators about you all.” He paused, lowering his spoon, glancing at the crowd with a crusty look. “Unless you’re going to kill me too.”
Spook’s father finally took his heel off Spook’s neck as he stepped toward the gnarled stranger. However, Spook’s mother grabbed her husband’s arm. “Don’t, Jedal,” she said softly—but not too softly for Spook’s enhanced ears. “He’ll kill you.”
“He’s a traitor,” Spook’s father spat. “Servant in the Lord Ruler’s army.”
“He brought us coins. Surely taking his money is better than simply killing the boy.”
Spook’s father looked down at the woman. “You did this! You sent for your brother. You knew he’d want to take the boy!”
Spook’s mother turned away.
The gnarled man finally set down his spoon, then stood. People backed away from his chair in apprehension. He walked with a pronounced limp as he crossed the room.
“Come on, boy,” he said, not looking at Spook as he opened the door.
Spook rose slowly, tentatively. He glanced at his mother and father as he backed away. Jedal stooped down, finally gathering up the coins. Margel met Spook’s eyes, then turned away. This is all I can give you, her posture seemed to say.
Spook turned, rubbing his neck, and rushed into the hot red sunlight after the stranger. The older man hobbled along, walking with a cane. He glanced at Spook as he walked.
“You have a name, boy?”
Spook opened his mouth, then stopped. His old name didn’t seem like it would do any more. “Lestibournes,” he finally said.
The old man didn’t bat an eye. Later, Kelsier would decide that Lestibournes was too difficult to say, and name him “Spook” instead. Spook never did figure out whether or not Clubs knew how to speak Eastern street slang. Even if he did, Spook doubted that he’d understand the reference.
Lestibournes. Lefting I’m born.
Street slang for “I’ve been abandoned.”
I now believe that Kelsier’s stories, legends, and prophecies about the “Eleventh Metal” were fabricated by Ruin. Kelsier was looking for a way to kill the Lord Ruler, and Ruin—ever subtle—provided a way.
That secret was indeed crucial. Kelsier’s Eleventh Metal provided the very clue we needed to defeat the Lord Ruler. However, even in this, we were manipulated. The Lord Ruler knew Ruin’s goals, and would never have released him from the Well of Ascension. So, Ruin needed other pawns—and for that to happen, the Lord Ruler needed to die. Even our greatest victory was shaped by Ruin’s subtle fingers.
24
DAYS LATER, MELAAN’S WORDS still pricked TenSoon’s conscience.
You come, proclaim dread news, then leave us to solve the problems on our own? During his year of imprisonment, it had seemed simple. He would make his accusations, deliver his information, then accept the punishment he deserved.
But now, strangely, an eternity of imprisonment seemed like the easy way out. If he let himself be taken in such a manner, how was he better than the First Generation? He would be avoiding the issues, content to be locked away, knowing that the outside world was no longer his problem.
Fool, he thought. You’ll be imprisoned for eternity—or, at least, until the kandra themselves are destroyed, and you die of starvation. That’s not the easy way out! By accepting your punishment, you’re doing the honorable, orderly thing.
And by so doing, he would leave MeLaan and the others to be destroyed as their leaders refused to take action. What’s more, he would leave Vin without the information she needed. Even from within the Homeland, he could feel the occasional rumbles in the rock. The earthquakes were still remote, and the others likely ignored them. But TenSoon worried.
The end could be nearing. If it was, then Vin needed to know the truths about the kandra. Their