Mistborn #01 The Final Empire

that had come this day. They had been stressed to the point of breaking.
    Temadre predicted this, Elend realized. So did half a dozen other political theorists. They said that the Final Empire couldn’t last forever. God at its head or not, the people would someday rise up. . . . It’s finally happening. I’m living through it!
    And . . . I’m on the wrong side.
    “Why the canalmasters?” Elend asked.
    “We’re leaving the city,” Lord Venture said tersely.
    “Abandon the keep?” Elend asked. “Where’s the honor in that?”
    Lord Venture snorted. “This isn’t about bravery, boy. It’s about survival. Those skaa are attacking the main gates, slaughtering the remnants of the Garrison. I have no intention of waiting until they come for noble heads.”
    “But . . .”
    Lord Venture shook his head. “We were leaving anyway. Something . . . happened at the Pits a few days ago. The Lord Ruler isn’t going to be happy when he discovers it.” He stepped back, waving over his lead narrowboat captain.
    Skaa rebellion, Elend thought, still a little numb. What was it that Temadre warned in his writings? That, when a real rebellion finally came, the skaa would slaughter wantonly . . . that every nobleman’s life would be forfeit.
    He predicted that the rebellion would die out quickly, but that it would leave piles of corpses in its wake. Thousands of deaths. Tens of thousands.
    “Well, boy?” Lord Venture demanded. “Go and organize your things.”
    “I’m not going,” Elend surprised himself by saying.
    Lord Venture frowned. “What?”
    Elend looked up. “I’m not going, Father.”
    “Oh, you’re going,” Lord Venture said, eyeing Elend with one of his glares.
    Elend looked into those eyes—eyes that were angry not because they cared for Elend’s safety, but because Elend dared defy them. And, strangely, Elend didn’t feel the least bit cowed. Someone has to stop this. The rebellion could do some good, but only if the skaa don’t insist on slaughtering their allies. And, that’s what the nobility should be—their allies against the Lord Ruler. He’s our enemy too.
    “Father, I’m serious,” Elend said. “I’m going to stay.”
    “Bloody hell, boy! Must you insist on mocking me?”
    “This isn’t about balls or luncheons, father. It’s about something more important.”
    Lord Venture paused. “No flippant comments? No buffoonery?”
    Elend shook his head.
    Suddenly, Lord Venture smiled. “Stay then, boy. That’s a good idea. Someone should maintain our presence here while I go rally our forces. Yes . . . a very good idea.”
    Elend paused, frowning slightly at the smile in his father’s eyes. The atium—Father is setting me up to fall in his place! And . . . even if the Lord Ruler doesn’t kill me, Father assumes I’ll die in the rebellion. Either way, he’s rid of me.
    I’m really not very good at this, am I?
    Lord Venture laughed to himself, turning.
    “At least leave me some soldiers,” Elend said.
    “You can have most of them,” Lord Venture said. “It will be hard enough to get one boat out in this mess. Good luck, boy. Say hello to the Lord Ruler in my absence.” He laughed again, moving toward his stallion, which was saddled and readied outside.
    Elend stood in the hall, and suddenly he was the focus of attention. Nervous guards and servants, realizing that they’d been abandoned, turned to Elend with desperate eyes.
    I’m . . . in charge, Elend thought with shock. Now what? Outside, he could see the mists flaring with the light of burning fires. Several of the guards were yelling about an approaching mob of skaa.
    Elend walked to the open doorway, staring out into the chaos. The hall grew quiet behind him, terrified people realizing the extent of their danger.
    Elend stood for a long moment. Then he spun. “Captain!” he said. “Gather your forces and the remaining servants—don’t leave anyone behind—then march to Keep Lekal.”
    “Keep . . . Lekal, my lord?”
    “It’s more defensible,” Elend said. “Plus, both of us have too few soldiers—separated, we’ll be destroyed. Together, we might be able to stand. We’ll offer our men to the Lekal in exchange for protecting our people.”
    “But . . . my lord,” the soldier said. “The Lekal are your enemies.”
    Elend nodded. “Yes, but someone needs to make the first overture. Now, get moving!”
    The man saluted, then rushed into motion.
    “Oh, and Captain?” Elend said.
    The soldier