Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [839]
“You are a simplistic fool,” Beldre whispered, though she wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“I know,” Spook said. “What are a few deaths when it comes to securing the stability of a kingdom?” He paused, then shook his head. “He’s killing children, Beldre. And he’s doing it simply to cover up the fact that he’s gathering Allomancers.”
Beldre was silent for a moment. “Go,” she finally said.
“I want you to come with me.”
She looked up.
“I’m going to overthrow your brother,” Spook said. “I am a member of the Survivor’s own crew. We took down the Lord Ruler—Quellion will hardly provide us with a challenge. You don’t have to be here when he falls.”
Beldre snorted quietly in derision.
“It’s not just about your safety,” Spook said. “If you join with us, it will be a strong blow to your brother. Perhaps it will convince him that he is wrong. There could be a more peaceful way of making this happen.”
“I’m going to start screaming in three heartbeats,” Beldre said.
“I don’t fear your guards,” Spook said.
“I don’t doubt that,” Beldre said. “But if they come, you’ll have to kill again.”
Spook wavered. He stayed where he was, however, calling her bluff.
And so she started screaming.
“Go kill him!” Kelsier said over her screams. “Now, before it’s too late! Those guards you killed—they were just following orders. Quellion, he’s the true monster.”
Spook ground his teeth in frustration, then finally ran, fleeing from Beldre and her screams, leaving Quellion alive.
For the moment.
The group of rings, clasps, ear loops, bracelets, and other bits of metal gleamed on the table like a treasure hoard of legend. Of course, most of the metals were rather mundane. Iron, steel, tin, copper. No gold or atium.
Yet, to a Feruchemist, the metals were worth far more than their economic value. They were batteries, stores that could be filled, then drawn upon. One made of pewter, for instance, could be filled with strength. Filling it would drain the Feruchemist of strength for a time—making him weak enough that simple tasks grew difficult—but the price was worthwhile. For, when necessary, he could draw that strength forth.
Many of these metalminds, spread out on the table in front of Sazed, were empty at the moment. Sazed had last used them during the horrific battle that had ended with the fall—then rescue—of Luthadel over a year before. That battle had left him drained in more ways than one. Ten rings, lined up on the side of the table, had been used to nearly kill him. Marsh had shot them at Sazed like coins, piercing his skin. That, however, had allowed Sazed to draw forth their power and heal himself.
At the very center of the collection were the most important metalminds of all. Four bracers—meant to clasp on to the upper or lower arms—sat gleaming and polished, made of the purest copper. They were the largest of his metalminds, for they held the most. Copper carried memories. A Feruchemist could take images, thoughts, or sounds that were fresh in his mind, then store them away. While inside, they wouldn’t decay or change, as memories could while held in the mind.
When Sazed had been a young man, an older Feruchemist had read out the entire contents of his copperminds. Sazed had stored the knowledge in his own copperminds; they contained the sum total of Keeper knowledge. The Lord Ruler had worked hard to smother people’s memories of the past. But the Keepers had gathered them—stories of how the world had been before the ash came and the sun had turned red. The Keepers had memorized the names of places and of kingdoms, had gathered the wisdom of those who were lost.
And they