Mistborn #02 The Well of Ascension

Allomancer."
    "Maybe," Spook said, the sound of Vin chopping coming from the side. "But people respect you, El. They just dismiss me."
    "I don't dismiss you, Spook."
    "Oh?" the young man asked. "When's the last time I did anything important for the crew?"
    "Three days ago," Elend said. "When you agreed to come with Vin and me. You're not just here to tend horses, Spook—you're here because of your skills as a scout and a Tineye. Do you still think we're being followed?"
    Spook paused, then shrugged. "I can't be sure. I think Straff's scouts turned back, but I keep catching sight of someone back there. I never get a good glimpse of them, though."
    "It's the mist spirit," Vin said, walking by and dumping an armload of wood beside the firepit. "It's chasing us."
    Spook and Elend shared a look. Then Elend nodded, refusing to act on Spook's uncomfortable stare. "Well, as long as it stays out of our way, it's not a problem, right?"
    Vin shrugged. "I hope not. If you see it, though, call for me. The records say it can be dangerous."
    "All right," Elend said. "We'll do that. Now, let's decide what to have for breakfast."

    Straff woke up. That was his first surprise.
    He lay in bed, inside his tent, feeling like someone had picked him up and slammed him against the wall a few times. He groaned, sitting up. His body was free from bruises, but he ached, and his head was pounding. One of the army healers, a young man with a full beard and bulging eyes, sat beside his bed. The man studied Straff for a moment.
    "You, my lord, should be dead," the young man said.
    "I'm not," Straff said, sitting up. "Give me some tin."
    A soldier approached with a metal vial. Straff downed it, then scowled at how dry and sore his throat was. He burned the tin only lightly; it made his wounds feel worse, but he had come to depend on the slight edge the enhanced senses gave him.
    "How long?" he asked.
    "Better part of three days, my lord," the healer said. "We. . .weren't sure what you'd eaten, or why. We thought about trying to get you to vomit, but it appeared that you'd taken the draught of your own choice, so. . ."
    "You did well," Straff said, holding his arm up in front of him. It still shook a bit, and he couldn't make it stop. "Who is in charge of the army?"
    "General Janarle," the healer said.
    Straff nodded. "Why hasn't he had me killed?"
    The healer blinked in surprise, glancing at the soldiers.
    "My lord," said Grent the soldier, "who would dare betray you? Any man who tried would end up dead in his tent. General Janarle was most worried about your safety."
    Of course , Straff realized with shock. They don't know that Zane is gone. Why. . .if I did die, then everyone assumes that Zane would either take control himself, or get revenge on those he thought responsible . Straff laughed out loud, shocking those watching over him. Zane had tried to kill him, but had accidentally saved his life by sheer force of reputation.
    I beat you , Straff realized. You're gone, and I'm alive . That didn't, of course, mean that Zane wouldn't return—but, then again, he might not. Perhaps. . .just maybe. . .Straff was rid of him forever.
    "Elend's Mistborn," Straff said suddenly.
    "We followed her for a while, my lord," Grent said. "But, they got too far from the army, and Lord Janarle ordered the scouts back. It appears she's making for Terris."
    He frowned. "Who else was with her?"
    "We think your son Elend escaped as well," the soldier said. "But it could have been a decoy."
    Zane did it , Straff thought with shock. He actually got rid of her .
    Unless it's a trick of some sort. But, then. . .
    "The koloss army?" Straff asked.
    "There's been a lot of fighting in its ranks lately, sir," Grent said. "The beasts seem more restless."
    "Order our army to break camp," Straff said. "Immediately. We're retreating back toward the Northern Dominance."
    "My lord?" Grent said with shock. "I think Lord Janarle is planning an assault, waiting only for your word. The city is weak, and their Mistborn is gone."
    "We're pulling back," Straff said, smiling. "For a while, at least." Let's see if this plan of yours works, Zane .

    Sazed sat in a small kitchen alcove, hands on the table before him, a metallic ring glittering on each finger. They were small, for metalminds, but storing up Feruchemical attributes took time. It would take weeks to fill even a ring's worth of metal—and he barely had days. In fact, Sazed was surprised the koloss had waited so long.
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