Mistborn #02 The Well of Ascension

"Oh?"
    Demoux nodded, waving for a man to approach from the side of the room. He was younger, perhaps eighteen, and had the dirty face and clothing of a skaa worker.
    "This is Larn," Demoux said. "A member of my congregation."
    The young man bowed to Elend, posture nervous.
    "You may speak, Larn," Demoux said. "Tell Lord Venture what you saw."
    "Well, my lord," the young man said. "I tried to go tell this to the king. The new king, I mean." He flushed, embarrassed.
    "It's all right," Elend said. "Continue."
    "Well, the men there turned me away. Said the king didn't have time for me. So, I came to Lord Demoux. I figured he might believe me."
    "About what?" Elend asked.
    "Inquisitor, my lord," the man said quietly. "I saw one in the city."
    Elend felt a chill. "You're sure?"
    The young man nodded. "I've lived in Luthadel all my life, my lord. Watched executions a number of times. I'd recognize one of those monsters, sure I would. I saw him. Spikes through the eyes, tall and robed, slinking about at night. Near the center squares of the city. I promise you."
    Elend shared a look with Demoux.
    "He's not the only one, my lord," Demoux said quietly. "Some other members of my congregation claimed to have seen an Inquisitor hanging around Kredik Shaw. I dismissed the first few, but Larn, he's trustworthy. If he said he saw something, he did. Eyes nearly as good as a Tineye, that one."
    Elend nodded slowly, and ordered a patrol from his personal guard to keep watch in the area indicated. After that, he turned his attention back to the wood-gathering effort. He gave the orders, organizing the men into teams, sending some to begin working, others to gather recruits. Without fuel, many of the city's forges had shut down, and the workers were idle. They could use something to occupy their time.
    Elend saw energy in the men's eyes as they began to split up. Elend knew that determination, that firmness of eye and arm. It came from the satisfaction of doing something, of not just sitting around and waiting for fate—or kings—to act.
    Elend turned back to the map, making a few notations. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ham saunter in. "So this is where they all went!" Ham said. "The sparring grounds are empty."
    Elend looked up, smiling.
    "You're back to the uniform, then?" Ham asked.
    Elend glanced down at his white outfit. Designed to stand out, to set him apart from a city stained by ash. "Yes."
    "Too bad," Ham said with a sigh. "Nobody should have to wear a uniform."
    Elend raised an eyebrow. In the face of undeniable winter, Ham had finally taken to wearing a shirt beneath his vest. He wore no cloak or coat, however.
    Elend turned back to the map. "The clothing suits me," he said. "It just feels right. Anyway, that vest of yours is as much a uniform as this is."
    "No it's not."
    "Oh?" Elend asked. "Nothing screams Thug like a man who goes about in the winter without a coat, Ham. You've used your clothing to change how people react to you, to let them know who you are and what you represent—which is essentially what a uniform does."
    Ham paused. "That's an interesting way of looking at it."
    "What?" Elend said. "You never argued about something like this with Breeze?"
    Ham shook his head as he turned to look over the groups of men, listening to the men Elend had appointed to give orders.
    He's changed , Elend thought. Running this city, dealing with all of this, it's even changed him . The Thug was more solemn, now—more focused. Of course, he had even more stake in the city's safety than the rest of the crew. It was sometimes hard to remember that the free-spirited Thug was a family man. Ham tended to not talk much about Mardra or his two children. Elend suspected it was habit; Ham had spent much of his marriage living apart from his family in order to keep them safe.
    This whole city is my family , Elend thought, watching the soldiers leave to do their work. Some might have thought something as simple as gathering firewood to be a mundane task, of little relevance in a city threatened by three armies. However, Elend knew that the freezing skaa people would receive the fuel with as much appreciation as they would salvation from the armies.
    The truth was that Elend felt a little like his soldiers did. He felt a satisfaction—a thrill even—from doing something, anything , to help.
    "What if Cett's attack comes?" Ham said, still looking over the soldiers. "A good portion of the army will be out scattered through the