Mistborn #02 The Well of Ascension

beasts. Occasionally, a soldier would drop. Blood dripped down into the courtyard from several sections of the ramparts.
    "Fear, anxiety, terror. . ." Breeze whispered.
    Allrianne had escaped. Vin, Elend, and Spook were safe. He had to keep focusing on those successes. Thank you, Sazed, for making us send them away , he thought.
    Hoofbeats clopped behind him. Breeze continued his Soothing, but turned to see Clubs riding up. The general rode his horse with a hunched-over slouch, eyeing the soldiers with one eye open, the other perpetually squeezed closed in a squint. "They're doing well," he said.
    "My dear man," Breeze said. "They're terrified . Even the ones beneath my Soothing watch those gates like they were some terrible void waiting to suck them in."
    Clubs eyed Breeze. "Feeling poetic today, are we?"
    "Impending doom has that effect on me," Breeze said as the gates shook. "Either way, I doubt the men are doing 'well.'"
    Clubs grunted. "Men are always nervous before a fight. But, these are good lads. They'll hold."
    The gates shook and quivered, splinters appearing at the edges. Those hinges are straining. . . Breeze thought.
    "Don't suppose you can Soothe those koloss?" Clubs asked. "Make them less ferocious?"
    Breeze shook his head. "Soothing those beasts has no effect. I've tried it."
    They fell silent again, listening to the booming gates. Eventually, Breeze glanced over at Clubs, who sat, unperturbed, on his horse. "You've been in combat before," Breeze said. "How often?"
    "Off and on for the better part of twenty years, when I was younger," Clubs said. "Fighting rebellions in the distant dominances, warring against the nomads out in the barrens. The Lord Ruler was pretty good about keeping those conflicts quiet."
    "And. . .how did you do?" Breeze asked. "Were you often victorious?"
    "Always," Clubs said.
    Breeze smiled slightly.
    "Of course," Clubs said, glancing at Breeze, "we were the ones with koloss on our side. Damn hard to kill, those beasts."
    Great , Breeze thought.

    Vin ran.
    She'd only been on one "pewter drag" before—with Kelsier, two years ago. While burning pewter at a steady flare, one could run with incredible speed—like a sprinter in their quickest dash—without ever growing tired.
    Yet, the process did something to a body. Pewter kept her moving, but it also bottled up her natural fatigue. The juxtaposition made her mind fuzz, bringing on a trancelike state of exhausted energy. Her soul wanted so badly to rest, yet her body just kept running, and running, and running, following the canal towpath toward the south. Toward Luthadel.
    Vin was prepared for the effects of pewter dragging this time, and so she handled them far better. She fought off the trance, keeping her mind focused on her goal, not the repetitive motions of her body. However, that focus led her to discomforting thoughts.
    Why am I doing this? she wondered. Why push myself so hard? Spook said it—Luthadel has to have already fallen. There is no need for urgency .
    And yet, she ran.
    She saw images of death in her mind. Ham, Breeze, Dockson, Clubs, and dear, dear Sazed. The first real friends she had ever known. She loved Elend, and part of her blessed the others for sending him away from danger. However, the other piece of her was furious at them for sending her away. That fury guided her.
    They let me abandon them. They forced me to abandon them!
    Kelsier had spent months teaching her how to trust. His last words to her in life had been ones of accusation, and they were words she had never been able to escape. You still have a lot to learn about friendship, Vin .
    He had gone on to risk his life to get Spook and OreSeur out of danger, fighting off—and eventually killing—a Steel Inquisitor. He had done this despite Vin's protests that the risk was pointless.
    She had been wrong.
    How dare they! she thought, feeling the tears on her cheeks as she dashed down the canal's highwaylike towpath. Pewter gave her inhuman balance, and the speed—which would have been perilous for anyone else—felt natural to her. She didn't trip, she didn't stumble, but an outside observer would think her pace reckless.
    Trees whipped by. She leapt washouts and dips in the land. She ran as she had done only once before, and pushed herself even harder than she had on that day. Before, she had been running simply to keep up with Kelsier. Now she ran for those she loved.
    How dare they! she thought again. How dare they not give me the same