Mistborn #01 The Final Empire

mistake. However, it is time for a change. Gather the high prelans and bring them here—rouse them from their beds, if need be. They will witness as I grant the Canton of Inquisition command and authority over the Ministry.”
    Kar’s smile deepened.
    “The half-breed child will be destroyed.”
    “Of course, my lord,” Kar said. “Though . . . there are some questions I wish to ask her first. She was part of a team of skaa Mistings. If she can help us locate the others . . .”
    “Very well,” the Lord Ruler said. “That is your duty, after all.”

----
Is there anything more beautiful than the sun? I often watch it rise, for my restless sleep usually awakens me before dawn.
Each time I see its calm yellow light peeking above the horizon, I grow a little more determined, a little more hopeful. In a way, it is the thing that has kept me going all this time.

    37

    K ELSIER, YOU CURSED LUNATIC, Dockson thought, scribbling notes on the table map, why do you always just saunter away, leaving me to handle your messes? However, he knew his frustration wasn’t real—it was simply a way of keeping himself from focusing on Kell’s death. It worked.
    Kelsier’s part in the plan—the vision, the charismatic leadership—was finished. Now it was Dockson’s turn. He took Kelsier’s original strategy and modified it. He was careful to keep the chaos at a manageable level, rationing the best equipment to the men who seemed the most stable. He sent contingents to capture points of interest—food and water deposits—before general rioting could steal them.
    In short, he did what he always did: He made Kelsier’s dreams become reality.
    A disturbance came from the front of the room, and Dockson looked up as a messenger rushed in. The man immediately sought out Dockson at the center of the warehouse.
    “What news?” Dockson asked as the man approached.
    The messenger shook his head. He was a young man, in an imperial uniform, though he had removed the jacket to make himself look less obtrusive. “I’m sorry, sir,” the man said quietly. “None of the guards have seen her come out, and . . . well, one claimed he saw her being carried toward the palace dungeons.”
    “Can you get her out?” Dockson asked.
    The soldier—Goradel—paled. Until just a short time before, Goradel had been one of the Lord Ruler’s own men. In truth, Dockson wasn’t even certain how much he trusted the man. Yet, the soldier—as a former palace guardsman—could get into places that other skaa could not. His former allies didn’t know he’d switched sides.
    Assuming he really has switched sides, Dockson thought. But . . . well, things were moving too quickly now for self-doubt. Dockson had decided to use this man. He’d have to trust his initial instincts.
    “Well?” Dockson repeated.
    Goradel shook his head. “There was an Inquisitor holding her captive, sir. I couldn’t free her—I wouldn’t have the authority. I don’t . . . I . . .”
    Dockson sighed. Damn fool girl! he thought. She should have had better sense than this. Kelsier must have rubbed off on her.
    He waved the soldier away, then looked up as Hammond walked in, a large sword with a broken hilt resting on his shoulder.
    “It’s done,” Ham said. “Keep Elariel just fell. Looks like Lekal is still holding, however.”
    Dockson nodded. “We’ll need your men at the palace soon.” The sooner we break in there, the better chance we have of saving Vin. However, his instincts told him that they’d be too late to help her. The main forces would take hours to gather and organize; he wanted to attack the palace with all of their armies in tandem. The truth was he just couldn’t afford to spare men on a rescue operation at the moment. Kelsier would probably have gone after her, but Dockson wouldn’t let himself do something that brash.
    As he always said— someone on the crew needed to be realistic. The palace was not a place to attack without substantial preparation; Vin’s failure proved that much. She’d just have to look after herself for the moment.
    “I’ll get my men ready,” Ham said, nodding as he tossed his sword aside. “I’m going to need a new sword, though.”
    Dockson sighed. “You Thugs. Always breaking things. Go see what you can find, then.”
    Ham moved off.
    “If you see Sazed,” Dockson called, “tell him that . . .”
    Dockson paused, his attention drawn by a group of skaa rebels who marched into the room, pulling a bound