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"What?" Elend asked.
"Mistwraith," Spook said. "You know. Big goopy things? Related to kandra? Don't tell me you haven't read about them?"
"I have," Elend said, nervously sca
Spook shrugged. "It's probably just following our scent, hoping that we'll leave some trash for it to eat. The things are harmless, mostly."
"Mostly?" Elend asked.
"You probably know more about them than I do. Look, I didn't come back here to chat about scavengers. There's light up ahead."
"A village?" Elend asked, thinking back to when they'd come this way before.
Spook shook his head. "Looks like watchfires."
"An army?"
"Maybe. I'm just thinking you should wait behind for a bit. It could be awkward if you wander into a scout post."
"Agreed," Elend said.
Spook nodded, then took off into the mists.
And Elend was alone in the darkness again. He shivered, pulling his cloak close, and eyed the mists in the direction from which he'd heard the mistwraith. Yes, he'd read about them. He knew they were supposed to be harmless. But the thought of something crawling out there—its skeleton made from random sets of bones—watching him. . .
Don't focus on that, Elend told himself.
He turned his attention, instead, to the mists. Vin was right about one thing, at least. They were lingering longer and longer despite the sunrise. Some mornings, they remained a full hour after the sun came up. He could easily imagine the disaster that would befall the land should the mists persist all day. Crops would fail, animals would starve, and civilization would collapse.
Could the Deepness really be something so simple? Elend's own impressions of the Deepness were seated in scholarly tradition. Some writers dismissed the entire thing as a legend—a rumor used by the obligators to enhance their god's aura of divinity. The majority accepted the historical definition of the Deepness—a dark monster that had been slain by the Lord Ruler.
And yet, thinking of it as the mist made some sense. How could a single beast, no matter how dangerous, threaten an entire land? The mists, though. . .they could be destructive. Kill plants. Perhaps even. . .kill people, as Sazed had suggested?
He eyed it shifting around him, playful, deceptive. Yes, he could see it as the Deepness. Its reputation—more frightening than a monster, more dangerous than an army—was one it would deserve. In fact, watching it as he was, he could see it trying to play tricks on his mind. For instance, the mist bank directly in front of him seemed to be forming shapes. Elend smiled as his mind picked out images in the mists. One almost looked like a person standing there, in front of him.
The person stepped forward.
Elend jumped, taking a slight step backward, his foot crunching on a bit of ice-crusted snow. Don't be silly, he told himself. Your mind is playing tricks on you. There's nothing—
The shape in the mists took another step forward. It was indistinct, almost formless, and yet it seemed real. Random movements in the mists outlined its face, its body, its legs.
"Lord Ruler!" Elend yelped, jumping back. The thing continued to regard him.
I'm going mad, he thought, hands begi
North. Away from Luthadel.
Elend frowned, glancing in the direction the figure pointed. There was nothing but more empty mists. He turned back toward it, but it stood quietly, arm upraised.
Vin spoke of this thing, he remembered, forcing down his fear. She tried to tell me about it. And I thought she was making things up! She was right—just as she'd been right about the mists staying longer in the day, and the possibility of the mists being the Deepness. He was begi
The mist figure continued to point.
"What?" Elend asked, his own voice sounding haunting in the silent air.
It stepped forward, arm still raised. Elend put a useless hand to his sword, but held his ground.
"Tell me what you wish of me!" he said forcefully.
The thing pointed again. Elend cocked his head. It certainly didn't seem threatening. In fact, he felt an u
Allomancy? he thought. It's Pulling on my emotions!
"Elend?" Spook's voice drifted out of the mists.
The figure suddenly dissolved, its form melting into the mists. Spook approached, his face dark and shadowed in the night. "Elend? What were you saying?"
Elend took his hand off his sword, standing upright. He eyed the mists, still not completely convinced that he wasn't seeing things. "Nothing," he said.
Spook glanced back the way he had come. "You should come look at this."
"The army?" Elend asked, frowning.
Spook shook his head. "No. The refugees."
"The Keepers are dead, my lord," the old man said, sitting across from Elend. He didn't have a tent, only a blanket stretched between several poles. "Either dead, or captured."
Another man brought Elend a cup of warm tea, his demeanor servile. Both wore the robes of stewards, and while their eyes bespoke exhaustion, their robes and hands were clean.
Old habits, Elend thought, nodding thankfully and taking a sip of the tea. Terris's people might have declared themselves independent, but a thousand years of servitude ca
The camp was an odd place. Spook said he counted nearly a thousand people in it—a nightmare of a number to care for, feed, and organize in the cold winter. Many were elderly, and the men were mostly stewards: eunuchs bred for genteel service, with no experience in hunting.
"Tell me what happened," Elend said.
The elderly steward nodded, his head shaking. He didn't seem particularly frail—actually, he had that same air of controlled dignity that most stewards exhibited—but his body had a slow, chronic tremble.
"The Synod came out into the open, my lord, once the empire fell." He accepted a cup of his own, but Elend noticed that it was only half full—a precaution that proved wise as the elderly steward's shaking nearly spilled its contents. "They became our rulers. Perhaps it was not wise to reveal themselves so soon."
Not all Terrismen were Feruchemists; in fact, very few were. The Keepers—people like Sazed and Tindwyl—had been forced into hiding long ago by the Lord Ruler. His paranoia that Feruchemical and Allomantic lines might mix—thereby potentially producing a person with his same powers—had led him to try and destroy all Feruchemists.
"I've known Keepers, friend," Elend said softly. "I find it hard to believe that they could have been easily defeated. Who did this?"
"Steel Inquisitors, my lord," the old man said.
Elend shivered. So that's where they've been.
"There were dozens of them, my lord," the old man said. "They attacked Ththingdwen with an army of koloss brutes. But, that was just a distraction, I think. Their real goal as the Synod and the Keepers themselves. While our army, such as it was, fought the beasts, the Inquisitors themselves struck at the Keepers."
Lord Ruler. . .Elend thought, stomach twisting. So, what do we do with the book Sazed told us to deliver to the Synod? Do we pass it on to these men, or keep it?
"They took the bodies with them, my lord," the old man said. "Terris is in ruins, and that is why we are going south. You said you know King Venture?"
"I. . .have met him," Elend said. "He ruled Luthadel, where I am from."
"Will he take us in, do you think?" the old man asked. "We have little hope anymore. Tathingdwen was the Terris capital, but even it wasn't large. We are few, these days—the Lord Ruler saw to that."