Lately, Sazed didn’t know what to think. Each time he climbed the ladder and looked out over the city, he saw worse signs. The ashfalls were heavier. The earthquakes were growing more and more frequent, and more and more violent. The mists were lingering later and later in the day. The sky grew dark, the red sun more like a vast bleeding scar than a source of light and life. The ashmounts made the horizon red even during the night.
It seemed to him that the end of the world should be a time when men found faith, not a time when they lost it. Yet, the little time that he’d devoted to studying the religions in his portfolio had not been encouraging. Twenty more religions eliminated, leaving just thirty potential candidates.
He shook his head to himself, moving among the toiling soldiers. Several groups worked on wooden contraptions filled with rocks—weight systems that would fall to block off the water running into the cavern. Others worked on the system of pulleys that would lower the mechanism. After about a half hour or so, Sazed determined that they were all doing their tasks well, and returned to his calculations. However, as he walked to his table, he saw Spook approaching him.
“Riots,” Spook said, falling into step beside Sazed.
“Excuse me, Lord Spook?”
“That’s where the soldiers went. Some people started a fire, and the soldiers guarding us were needed to put it out before the whole city went up. There’s a lot more wood here than there is in Central Dominance cities.”
Sazed frowned. “Our actions here are becoming dangerous, I fear.”
Spook shrugged. “Seems like a good thing to me. This city is on the edge of snapping, Saze. Just like Luthadel was when we took control.”
“Only the presence of Elend Venture kept that city from destroying itself,” Sazed said quietly. “Kelsier’s revolution could easily have turned into a disaster.”
“It will be all right,” Spook said.
Sazed eyed the young man as the two of them walked through the cavern. Spook seemed to be trying very hard to project an air of confidence. Perhaps Sazed was just growing cynical, but he found it difficult to be as optimistic as Spook.
“You don’t believe me,” Spook said.
“I’m sorry, Lord Spook,” Sazed said. “It’s not that … it’s just that I seem to have trouble having faith in anything lately.”
“Oh.”
They walked silently for a while, eventually finding themselves at the edge of the glassy underground lake. Sazed paused beside the waters, his worries chewing at his insides. He stood for a long moment, feeling frustrated, but not really having an outlet.
“Don’t you even worry, Spook?” Sazed finally asked. “Worry that we’ll fail?”
“I don’t know,” Spook said, shuffling.
“And, it’s so much more than this,” Sazed said, waving back at the work crews. “The very sky seems to be our enemy. The land is dying. Don’t you wonder what good any of this is? Why we even struggle? We’re all doomed anyway!”
Spook flushed. Then, finally, he looked down. “I don’t know,” he repeated. “I … I understand what you’re doing, Sazed. You’re trying to find out if I doubt myself. I guess you can see through me.”
Sazed frowned, but Spook wasn’t looking.
“You’re right,” the young man said then, wiping his brow, “I do wonder if I’ll fail. I guess Tindwyl would be annoyed at me, wouldn’t she? She didn’t think that leaders should doubt themselves.”
That gave Sazed pause. What am I doing? he thought, horrified at his outburst. Is this what I’ve really become? During most of my life, I resisted the Synod, rebelling against my own people. Yet, I was at peace, confident that I was doing the right thing.
Now I come here, where people need me most, and I just sit around and snap at my friends, telling them that we’re just going to die?
“But,” Spook said, looking up, “though I doubt myself, I still think we’ll be all right.”
Sazed was surprised at the hope he saw in the boy’s eyes. That’s what I’ve lost.
“How can you say that?” Sazed asked.
“I don’t know, really,” Spook said. “I just … Well, do you remember that question you asked me when you first got here? We were standing by the lake, just over there. You asked me about faith. You asked what good it was, if it just led people to hurt each other, like Quellion’s faith in the Survivor has done.”
Sazed looked out over the lake. “Yes,” he said softly. “I remember.”
“I’ve been thinking about that ever since,” Spook said. “And … I think I might have an answer.”
“Please.”
“Faith,” Spook said, “means that it doesn’t matter what happens. You can trust that somebody is watching. Trust that somebody will make it all right.”
Sazed frowned.
“It means that there will always be a way,” Spook whispered, staring forward, eyes glazed, as if seeing things that Sazed could not.
Yes, Sazed thought. That is what I have lost. And it’s what I need to get back.
I have come to see that each power has three aspects: a physical one, which can be seen in the creations made by Ruin and Preservation; a spiritual one in the unseen energy that permeates all of the world; and a cognitive one in the minds which controlled that energy.
There is more to this. Much more that even I do not yet comprehend.
57
YOU SHOULD KILL THEM.
Vin looked up as she heard a pair of guards pass the door to her cell. There was one good thing about Ruin’s voice—it tended to warn her when people were nearby, even if it did always tell her to kill them.
A part of her did wonder if, in fact, she was mad. After all, she saw and heard things that nobody else could. However, if she were mad, there would really be no way for her to realize it. So, she simply decided to accept what she heard, and move on.
In truth, she was glad for Ruin’s voice on occasion. Other than Ruin, she was alone in the cell. All was still. Even the soldiers did not speak—likely at Yomen’s orders. Plus, each time Ruin spoke, she felt as if she learned something. For instance, she had learned that Ruin could either manifest in person or affect her from a distance. When its actual presence was not with her in the cell, Ruin’s words were far more simple and vague.
Take, for instance, Ruin’s order that she kill the guards. She couldn’t follow that suggestion, not from within the cell. It wasn’t so much a specific order as it was an attempt to change her inclinations. Again, that reminded her of Allomancy, which could exert a general influence over a person’s emotions.
General influence …
Something suddenly occurred to her. She quested out, and—sure enough—she could still feel the thousand koloss that Elend had given her. They were under her control still, distant, obeying the general orders she’d given them before.
Could she use them somehow? Deliver a message to Elend, perhaps? Get them to attack the city and free her? As she considered them, both plans seemed flawed. Sending them to Fadrex would just get them killed, as well as risk upsetting whatever plans Elend had for a potential attack. She could send them to find Elend, but that would probably just get them killed by the camp guards, who would be afraid they were bloodlusting. Plus, what would she have them do if they did get to him? She could order them to take actions, like attack or pick someone up, but she’d never tried something as delicate as ordering one to speak certain words.