72
IT BEGAN RAINING JUST BEFORE Vin reached Luthadel. A quiet, cold drizzle that wetted the night, but did not banish the mists.
She flared her bronze. In the distance, she could sense Allomancers. Mistborn. Chasing her. There were at least a dozen of them, homing in on her position.
She landed on the city wall, bare feet slipping just slightly on the stones. Beyond her stretched Luthadel, even now proud in its sprawl. Founded a thousand years before by the Lord Ruler, it was built atop the Well of Ascension itself. During the ten centuries of his reign, Luthadel had burgeoned, becoming the most important—and most crowded—place in all of the empire.
And it was dying.
Vin stood up straight, looking out over the vast city. Pockets of flame flared where buildings had caught fire. The flames defied the rain, illuminating the various slums and other neighborhoods like watch fires in the night. In their light, she could see that the city was a wreck. Entire swathes of the town had been torn apart, the buildings broken or burned. The streets were eerily vacant—nobody fought the fires, nobody huddled in the gutters.
The capital, once home to hundreds of thousands, seemed empty. Wind blew through Vin’s rain-wetted hair and she felt a shiver. The mists, as usual, stayed away from her—pushed aside by her Allomancy. She was alone in the largest city in the world.
No. Not alone. She could feel them approaching—Ruin’s minions. She had led them here, made them assume that she was bringing them to the atium. There would be far more of them than she could fight. She was doomed.
That was the idea.
She launched off the wall, shooting through the mist, ash, and rain. She wore her mistcloak, more out of nostalgia than utility. It was the same one she’d always had—the one that Kelsier had given her on her very first night of training.
She landed with a splash atop a building, then leaped again, bounding over the city. She wasn’t certain if it was poetic or ominous that it was raining this night. There had been another night when she had visited Kredik Shaw in the rain. A part of her still thought she should have died that night.
She landed on the street, then stood upright, her tasseled mistcloak falling around her, hiding her arms and chest. She stood quietly, looking up at Kredik Shaw, the Hill of a Thousand Spires. The Lord Ruler’s palace, location of the Well of Ascension.
The building was an assemblage of several low wings topped by dozens of rising towers, spires, and spines. The awful near-symmetry of the amalgamation was only made more unsettling by the presence of the mists and ash. The building had been abandoned since the Lord Ruler’s death. The doors were broken, and she could see shattered windows in the walls. Kredik Shaw was as dead as the city it once had dominated.
A figure stepped up beside her. “Here?” Ruin said. “This is where you lead me? We have searched this place.”
Vin remained quiet, looking up at the spires. Black fingers of metal reaching up into a blacker sky.
“My Inquisitors are coming,” Ruin whispered.
“You shouldn’t have revealed yourself,” Vin said, not looking toward him. “You should have waited until I retrieved the atium. I’ll never do it now.”
“Ah, but I no longer believe that you have it,” Ruin said in his fatherly voice. “Child … child. I believed you at first—indeed, I gathered my powers, ready to face you. When you came here, however, I knew that you had misled me.”
“You don’t know that for certain,” Vin said softly, voice complemented by the quiet rain.
Silence. “No,” Ruin finally said.
“Then you’ll have to try to make me talk,” she whispered.
“Try? You realize the forces I can bring to bear against you, child? You realize the power I have, the destruction I represent? I am mountains that crush. I am waves that crash. I am storms that shatter. I am the end.”
Vin continued to stare up into the falling rain. She didn’t question her plan—it wasn’t really her way. She’d decided what to do. It was time to spring Ruin’s trap.
She was tired of being manipulated.
“You will never have it,” Vin said. “Not while I live.”
Ruin screamed, a sound of primal anger, of something that had to destroy. Then, he vanished. Lightning flared, its light a wave of power moving through the mist. It illuminated robed figures in the blackened rain, walking toward her. Surrounding her.
Vin turned toward a ruined building a short distance away, watching as a figure climbed up over the rubble. Now lit only faintly by starlight, the figure had a bare chest, a stark rib cage, and taut muscles. Rain ran down his skin, dripping from the spikes that sprouted from his chest. One between each set of ribs. His face bore spikes in the eyes—one of which had been pounded back into his skull, crushing the socket.
Normal Inquisitors had nine spikes. The one she’d killed with Elend had ten. Marsh appeared to have upward of twenty. He growled softly.
And the fight began.
Vin flung back her cloak, spraying water from the tassels, and Pushed herself forward. Thirteen Inquisitors hurtled through the night sky toward her. Vin ducked a flight of axe swings, then slammed a Push toward a pair of Inquisitors, burning duralumin. The creatures were thrown backward by their spikes, and Vin accelerated in a sudden lurch to the side.
She hit another Inquisitor, feet against his chest. Water sprayed, flecked with ash, as Vin reached down and grabbed one of the spikes in the Inquisitor’s eyes. Then she Pulled herself backward and flared pewter.
She lurched, and the spike came free. The Inquisitor screamed, but did not fall dead. It looked at her, one side of the head a gaping hole, and hissed. Removing one eye-spike, apparently, wasn’t enough to kill.
Ruin laughed in her head.
The spikeless Inquisitor reached for her, and Vin Pulled herself into the sky, yanking on one of the metal spires of Kredik Shaw. She downed the contents of a metal vial as she flew, restoring her steel.
A dozen figures in black robes sprang up through the falling rain to follow. Marsh remained below, watching.
Vin gritted her teeth, then whipped out a pair of daggers and Pushed herself back down—directly toward the Inquisitors. She passed among them, surprising several, who had probably expected her to jump away. She slammed directly into the creature she’d pulled the spike from, spinning him in the air, ramming her daggers into his chest. He gritted his teeth, laughing, then slapped her arms apart and kicked her back toward the ground.
She fell with the rain.
Vin hit hard, but managed to land on her feet. The Inquisitor hit the cobblestones back-first, her daggers still in his chest. But he stood up easily, tossing the daggers aside, shattering them on the cobblestones.
Then he moved suddenly. Too quickly. Vin didn’t have time to think as he splashed through the misty rain, grabbing her by the throat.
I’ve seen that speed before, she thought as she struggled. Not just from Inquisitors. From Sazed. That’s a Feruchemical power. Just like the strength Marsh used earlier.
That was the reason for the new spikes. These other Inquisitors didn’t have as many as Marsh, but they obviously had some new powers. Strength. Speed. Each of these creatures was, essentially, another Lord Ruler.
You see? Ruin asked.
Vin cried out, duralumin-Pushing against the Inquisitor, tearing herself out of his grasp. The move left her throat bleeding from his fingernails, and she had to down another vial of metals—her last—to restore her steel as she hydroplaned across the wet ground.