Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [901]
“Surprised?” Elend asked, reading his friend’s expression.
“Of course not,” Ham said, a little too quickly. “The scouts reported your approach.”
My arrival may not surprise you, Elend thought tiredly, but the fact that I’m still alive does. Did you think I’d run off to get myself killed, or did you simply think that I’d wander away and abandon you?
It wasn’t a line of reasoning he wanted to pursue. So, he simply smiled, resting a hand on Ham’s shoulder and looking toward the camp. It looked strange, bunkered down as it was, ash piled up outside of it. It looked a little like it was dug into the ground several feet. There was so much ash. . . .
I can’t worry about everything at once, Elend thought with determination. I just have to trust. Trust in myself and keep going.
He had pondered the mist spirit the rest of his trip. Had it really told him not to attack Fadrex, or was Elend simply misinterpreting its gestures? What had it wanted him to learn by pointing at his vial of metals?
Beside him, Ham was regarding the mass of new koloss. To the side of the army, his other koloss sat—still under his control. Though he had grown increasingly adept at keeping a hold on the creatures, it was still nice to be back close to them. It made him feel more comfortable.
Ham whistled quietly. “Twenty-eight thousand?” he asked. “Or, at least, that’s what the scouts say.”
Elend nodded.
“I hadn’t realized how large the group was,” Ham said. “With that many . . .”
Thirty-seven thousand total, Elend thought. More than enough to storm Fadrex.
He began to walk down the incline, toward the camp. Though he hadn’t needed much pewter to help him through the hike, he was still tired. “Any news of Vin?” he said hopefully, though he knew that if she’d managed to escape, she would have already found him.
“We sent a messenger into the city while you were gone,” Ham said as they began to walk. “Yomen said a soldier could come and confirm that Vin was still alive, and so we complied in your name, thinking it best if Yomen thought you were here.”
“You did well,” Elend said.
“It’s been a while since then,” Ham said. “We haven’t heard anything of her since.”
“She’s still alive,” Elend said.
Ham nodded. “I believe so too.”
Elend smiled. “It’s not just faith, Ham,” he said, nodding toward the koloss that had remained behind. “Before she was captured, I gave some of those to her. If she’d died, then they would have gone out of control. As long as she lives—whether or not she has metals—she will remain bonded to them.”
Ham paused. “That . . . would have been something good to tell us earlier, El.”
“I know,” Elend said. “It’s too easy to forget how many I’m controlling—I didn’t even think that not all of those are mine. Post scouts, keep an eye on them. I’ll take them back if they go wild.”
Ham nodded. “Could you contact her through them?”
Elend shook his head. How did he explain? Controlling the koloss wasn’t a subtle thing—their minds were too dull for much beyond simple commands. He could order them to attack, or to freeze, or to follow and carry things. But he couldn’t direct them precisely, couldn’t instruct them to speak a message or even how to accomplish a goal. He could only say “Do this” and watch them go.
“We’ve had scout reports from the Central Dominance, El,” Ham said, voice troubled.
Elend looked at him.
“Most of our scouts didn’t return. Nobody knows what happened to Demoux and the men you sent—we hope they reached Luthadel, but the capital is in bad shape. The scouts who have returned bear some pretty frustrating news. We’ve lost many of the cities you conquered during this last year. The people are starving, and a lot of villages are empty save for the dead. Those who can flee to Luthadel, leaving trails of corpses on the road, buried in ash.”
Elend closed his eyes. But Ham wasn’t done.
“There are tales of cities swallowed by the rumbling earth,” Ham said, voice almost a whisper. “King Lekal and his city fell to lava from one of the ashmounts. We haven’t heard from Janarle in weeks; his