Part 55 (1/2)
”Hypocrite!”
”Liar!”
”He killed my uncle, yet left his own sister alive!”
Beldre cried out as the people, carefully prepared and planted, saw the proof that Spook had promised them. It didn't have the target he had intended, but the machine he had set in motion could not be halted now. The people gathered around Beldre, yelling in anger, shoving her among themselves.
Spook stepped toward her, raising his wounded arm. Then a shadow fell on him.
”She was always planning to betray you, Spook,” Kelsier said.
Spook turned, looking at the Survivor. He stood tall and proud, like the day when he'd faced the Lord Ruler.
”You kept waiting for an a.s.sa.s.sin,” Kelsier said. ”You didn't realize that Quellion had already sent one. His sister. Didn't it strike you as strange that he'd let her get away from him and enter the enemy's own base? She was sent there to kill you. You, Sazed, and Breeze. The problem is, she was raised a pampered rich girl. She's not used to killing. She never was. You were never really in danger from her.”
The crowd surged, and Spook spun, worried about Beldre. However, he calmed a bit as he realized that the people were simply pulling her toward the stage. ”Survivor!” people were chanting. ”Survivor of the Flames!”
”King!”
They cast Beldre before him, pus.h.i.+ng her up onto the platform. Her scarlet clothing was ripped, her figure battered, her auburn hair a mess. To the side, Quellion groaned. Spook appeared to have broken his arm without realizing it.
Spook moved to help Beldre. She was bleeding from several small cuts, but she was alive. And she was crying.
”She was his bodyguard,” Kelsier said, stepping over to Beldre. ”That's why she was always with him. Quellion isn't an Allomancer. He never was.”
Spook knelt beside the girl, cringing at her bruised form.
”Now, you must kill her,” Kelsier said.
Spook looked up, blood seeping from the cut on the side of his face, where the Thug had grazed him. Blood dripped from his chin. ”What?”
”You want power, Spook?” Kelsier said, stepping forward. ”You want to be a better Allomancer? Well, power must come from somewhere. It is never free. This woman is a Coinshot. Kill her, and you can have her ability. I will give it to you.”
Spook looked down at the weeping woman. He felt surreal, as if he were not quite there. His breathing was labored, each breath coming as a gasp, his body shaking despite his pewter. People chanted his name. Quellion was mumbling something. Beldre continued to cry.
Spook reached up with his bloodied hand, ripping off his blindfold, spectacles tumbling free. He stumbled to his feet, looking out over the city.
And saw it burning.
The sounds of rioting echoed through the streets. Flames burned in a dozen different spots, lighting the mists, casting a h.e.l.lish haze over the city. Not the fires of rebellion at all. The fires of destruction.
”This is wrong . . .” Spook whispered.
”You will take the city, Spook,” Kelsier said. ”You will have what you always wanted! You'll be like Elend, and like Vin. Better than either! You'll have Elend's t.i.tles and Vin's power! You'll be like a G.o.d!”
Spook turned away from the burning city as something caught his attention. Quellion was reaching out with his good arm, reaching toward . . .
Toward Kelsier.
”Please,” Quellion whispered. It seemed as if he could see see the Survivor, though n.o.body else around them could. ”My lord Kelsier, why have you forsaken me?” the Survivor, though n.o.body else around them could. ”My lord Kelsier, why have you forsaken me?”
”I gave you pewter, Spook,” Kelsier said angrily, not looking at Quellion. ”Will you deny me now? You must pull free one of the steel spikes that support this stage. Then, you must take the girl, and press her to your chest. Kill her with the spike, and drive it into your own body. That is the only way!”
Kill her with the spike . . . Spook thought, feeling numb. Spook thought, feeling numb. This all began that day when I nearly died. I was fighting a Thug in the market; I used him as a s.h.i.+eld. But . . . the other soldier struck anyway, stabbing through his friend and into me. This all began that day when I nearly died. I was fighting a Thug in the market; I used him as a s.h.i.+eld. But . . . the other soldier struck anyway, stabbing through his friend and into me.
Spook stumbled away from Beldre, kneeling beside Quellion. The man cried out as Spook forced him down against the wooden planks.
”That's right,” Kelsier said. ”Kill him first.”
But Spook wasn't listening. He ripped Quellion's s.h.i.+rt, looking at the shoulder and chest. There was nothing odd about either. The Citizen's upper arm, however, had a length of metal piercing it. It appeared to be bronze. Hand shaking, Spook pulled the metal free. Quellion screamed.
But so did Kelsier.
Spook turned, bloodied bronze spike in his hand. Kelsier was enraged, hands like claws, stepping forward.
”What are are you?” Spook asked. you?” Spook asked.
The thing screamed, but Spook ignored it, looking down at his own chest. He ripped open his s.h.i.+rt, exposing the mostly healed wound in his shoulder. A glimmer of metal still shone there, the tip of the sword. The sword that had pa.s.sed through an Allomancer-killing the man-and then entered Spook's own body. Kelsier had told him to leave the broken shard there. As a symbol of what Spook had gone through.
The point of the shard protruded from Spook's skin. How had he forgotten about it? How had he ignored such a relatively large piece of metal inside of his body? Spook reached for it.
”No!” Kelsier said. ”Spook, do you want to go back to being normal? Do you want to be useless again? You'll lose your pewter, and go back to being weak, like you were when you let your uncle die!”
Spook wavered.
No, Spook thought. Spook thought. Something is wrong. I was supposed to expose Quellion, get him to use his Allomancy, but I just attacked instead. I wanted to kill. I forgot about plans and preparation. I brought destruction to this city. Something is wrong. I was supposed to expose Quellion, get him to use his Allomancy, but I just attacked instead. I wanted to kill. I forgot about plans and preparation. I brought destruction to this city.
This is not right!
He pulled the gla.s.s dagger from his boot. Kelsier screamed terribly in his ears, but Spook reached up anyway, slicing the flesh of his chest. He reached in with pewter-enhanced fingers and grabbed the steel shard that was embedded inside.
Then, he ripped the bit of metal free, casting it across the stage, crying out at the shock of pain. Kelsier vanished immediately. And so did Spook's ability to burn pewter.
It hit him all at once-the fatigue of pus.h.i.+ng himself so hard during his time in Urteau. The wounds he'd been ignoring. The sudden explosion of light, sound, smell, and sensation that pewter had let him resist. It overcame him like a physical force, crus.h.i.+ng him down. He collapsed to the platform.
He groaned, unable to think anymore. He could simply let the blackness take him. . . .
Her city is burning.
Blackness . . .
Thousands will die in the flames.
The mists tickled his cheeks. In the cacophony, Spook had let his tin dim, relieving him of sensation, leaving him feeling blissfully numb. It was better that way.
You want to be like Kelsier? Really like Kelsier? Then fight when you are beaten!
”Lord Spook!” The voice was faint.
Survive!