Read Mistborn: The Well of Ascension Online
Authors: Brandon Sanderson
Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Epic, #General
Praise for
The Well of Ascension
"Sanderson's hallmark is to take traditional high-fantasy tropes and turn them upside down, and he doesn't disappoint here. Vin's a beautifully realized protagonist whose struggles are wonderfully written and, as always, the world-building is unusual and compelling."
—
Romantic Times BOOKreviews
"This entertaining read will especially please those who always wanted to know what happened after the good guys won."
—
Publishers Weekly
"Vin's struggles with love and power inject the human element into Sanderson's engaging epic."
—
Booklist
Praise for
Mistborn
"
Mistborn
utilizes a well thought-out system of magic. It also has a great cast of believable characters, a plausible world, an intriguing political system, and a very satisfying ending. Highly recommended to anyone hungry for a good read."
—Robin Hobb
"Brandon Sanderson made a sensational debut with
Elantris
as another in the recent crop of fantasy writers who use familiar epic forms to produce far-from-generic results. . ..
Mistborn
examines the makings of hero and villain, legend and myth, as seemingly different stages of what may be the same process. . .. [It's an] enjoyable, adventurous read. . .[and] along the way to the grand finale, anyone who cares to can learn a great deal about the underside of power."
—Faren Miller,
Locus
Praise for Brandon Sanderson
"Brandon Sanderson is the real thing—an exciting story-teller with a unique and powerful vision."
—David Farland
"It's rare for a fiction writer to have much understanding of how leadership works, how communities form, and how love really takes root in the human heart. Sanderson is astonishingly wise."
—Orson Scott Card
THE WELL OF ASCENSION
BOOK TWO OF MISTBORN
BRANDON SANDERSON
A TOM DOHERTY ASSOCIATES BOOK
NEW YORK
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
THE WELL OF ASCENSION: BOOK TWO OF MISTBORN
Copyright © 2007 by Brandon Sanderson
All rights reserved.
Maps and ornaments by Isaac Stewart
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
Tor
®
is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
ISBN: 978-0-7653-5613-0
THE WELL OF ASCENSION
FOR PHYLLIS CALL,
Who may never understand my fantasy books,
yet who taught me more about life
—and therefore writing—
than she can probably ever know
(Thanks, Grandma!)
CONTENTS
PART ONE: Heir of the Survivor
ARS ARCANUM
1. Metals Quick-Reference Chart
2. Names and Terms
3. Summary of Book One
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First off, as always, my excellent agent, Joshua Bilmes, and editor, Moshe Feder, deserve high praise for their efforts. This book in particular required some thoughtful drafting, and they were up to the task. They have my thanks, as do their assistants, Steve Mancino (an excellent agent in his own right) and Denis Wong.
There are some other fine folks at Tor who deserve my thanks. Larry Yoder (the best sales rep in the nation) did a wonderful job selling the book. Seth Lerner, Tor's mass-market art director, is a genius at matching books to artists. And, speaking of artists, I think the amazing Christian McGrath did a brilliant job with this cover. More can be seen at christianmcgrath.com. Isaac Stewart, a good friend of mine and a fellow writer, did all of the map work and the symbols for the chapter headings. Find him at nethermore.com. Shawn Boyles is the official Mistborn Llama artist, and a great guy to boot. Check my Web site for more information. Finally, I'd like to thank the Tor publicity department—specifically Dot Lin—which has been wonderful in promoting my books and taking care of me. Thank you so much, all of you!
Another round of thanks needs to go out to my alpha readers. These tireless folks provide feedback on my novels in the early stages, dealing with all of the problems, typos, and inconsistencies before I get them worked out. In no particular order, these people are: Ben Olson, Krista Olsen, Nathan Goodrich, Ethan Skarstedt, Eric J. Ehlers, Jillena O'Brien, C. Lee Player, Kimball Larsen, Bryce Cundick, Janci Patterson, Heather Kirby, Sally Taylor, The Almighty Pronoun, Bradley Reneer, Holly Venable, Jimmy, Alan Layton, Janette Layton, Kaylynn ZoBell, Rick Stranger, Nate Hatfield, Daniel A. Wells, Stacy Whitman, Sarah Bylund, and Benjamin R. Olsen.
A special thanks goes to the people at the Provo Walden-books for their support. Sterling, Robin, Ashley, and the terrible duo of Steve "Bookstore Guy" Diamond and Ryan McBride (who were also alpha readers). Also, I must acknowledge my brother, Jordan, for his work on my Web site (along with Jeff Creer). Jordo also is the official "keep Brandon's head on straight" guy, with his solemn duty being to make fun of me and my books.
My mother, father, and sisters are always a wonderful help as well. If I forgot any alpha readers, I'm sorry! I'll put you in twice next time. Note, Peter Ahlstrom, I didn't forget you—I just decided to stick you in late to make you sweat a bit.
Finally, my thanks go out to my wonderful wife, whom I married during the editing process of this book. Emily, I love you!
HEIR OF THE SURVIVOR
I write these words in steel, for anything not set in metal cannot be trusted
.
THE ARMY CREPT LIKE A dark stain across the horizon.
King Elend Venture stood motionless upon the Luthadel city wall, looking out at the enemy troops. Around him, ash fell from the sky in fat, lazy flakes. It wasn't the burnt white ash that one saw in dead coals; this was a deeper, harsher black ash. The Ashmounts had been particularly active lately.
Elend felt the ash dust his face and clothing, but he ignored it. In the distance, the bloody red sun was close to setting. It backlit the army that had come to take Elend's kingdom from him.
"How many?" Elend asked quietly.
"Fifty thousand, we think," Ham said, leaning against the parapet, beefy arms folded on the stone. Like everything in the city, the wall had been stained black by countless years of ashfalls.
"Fifty thousand soldiers. . ." Elend said, trailing off. Despite heavy recruitment, Elend barely had twenty thousand men under his command—and they were peasants with less than a year of training. Maintaining even that small number was straining his resources. If they'd been able to find the Lord Ruler's atium, perhaps things would be different. As it was, Elend's rule was in serious danger of economic disaster.
"What do you think?" Elend asked.
"I don't know, El," Ham said quietly. "Kelsier was always the one with the vision."
"But you helped him plan," Elend said. "You and the others, you were his crew. You were the ones who came up with a strategy for overthrowing the empire, then made it happen."
Ham fell silent, and Elend felt as if he knew what the man was thinking.
Kelsier was central to it all. He was the one who organized, the one who took all of the wild brain-storming and turned it into a viable operation. He was the leader. The genius
.
And he'd died a year before, on the very same day that the people—as part of his secret plan—had risen up in fury to overthrow their god emperor. Elend had taken the throne in the ensuing chaos. Now it was looking more and more like he would lose everything that Kelsier and his crew had worked so hard to accomplish. Lose it to a tyrant who might be even worse than the Lord Ruler. A petty, devious bully in "noble" form. The man who had marched his army on Luthadel.
Elend's own father, Straff Venture.
"Any chance you can. . .talk him out of attacking?" Ham asked.
"Maybe," Elend said hesitantly. "Assuming the Assembly doesn't just surrender the city."
"They close?"
"I don't know, honestly. I worry that they are. That army has frightened them, Ham."
And with good reason
, he thought. "Anyway, I have a proposal for the meeting in two days. I'll try to talk them out of doing anything rash. Dockson got back today, right?"
Ham nodded. "Just before the army's advance."
"I think we should call a meeting of the crew," Elend said. "See if we can come up with a way out of this."
"We'll still be pretty shorthanded," Ham said, rubbing his chin. "Spook isn't supposed to be back for another week, and the Lord Ruler only knows where Breeze went. We haven't had a message from him in months."
Elend sighed, shaking his head. "I can't think of anything else, Ham." He turned, staring out over the ashen landscape again. The army was lighting campfires as the sun set. Soon, the mists would appear.
I need to get back to the palace and work on that proposal
, Elend thought.
"Where'd Vin run off to?" Ham asked, turning back to Elend.
Elend paused. "You know," he said, "I'm not sure."
Vin landed softly on the damp cobblestones, watching as the mists began to form around her. They puffed into existence as darkness fell, growing like tangles of translucent vines, twisting and wrapping around one another.
The great city of Luthadel was still. Even now, a year after the Lord Ruler's death and the rise of Elend's new free government, the common people stayed in their homes at night. They feared the mists, a tradition that went far deeper than the Lord Ruler's laws.
Vin slipped forward quietly, senses alert. Inside herself, as always, she burned tin and pewter. Tin enhanced her senses, making it easier for her to see in the night. Pewter made her body stronger, made her lighter on her feet. These, along with copper—which had the power to hide her use of Allomancy from others who were burning bronze—were metals that she left on almost all the time.
Some called her paranoid. She thought herself prepared. Either way, the habit had saved her life on numerous occasions.
She approached a quiet street corner and paused, peeking out. She'd never really understood
how
she burned metals; she could remember doing it for as long as she'd been alive, using Allomancy instinctively even before she was formally trained by Kelsier. It didn't really matter to her. She wasn't like Elend; she didn't need a logical explanation for everything. For Vin, it was enough that when she swallowed bits of metal, she was able to draw upon their power.
Power she appreciated, for she well knew what it was like to lack it. Even now, she was not what one would likely envision as a warrior. Slight of frame and barely five feet tall, with dark hair and pale skin, she knew she had an almost frail look about her. She no longer displayed the underfed look she had during her childhood on the streets, but she certainly wasn't someone any man would find intimidating.
She liked that. It gave her an edge—and she needed every edge she could get.
She also liked the night. During the day, Luthadel was cramped and confining despite its size. But at night the mists fell like a deep cloud. They dampened, softened, shaded. Massive keeps became shadowed mountains, and crowded tenements melted together like a chandler's rejected wares.
Vin crouched beside her building, still watching the intersection. Carefully, she reached within herself and burned steel—one of the other metals she'd swallowed earlier. Immediately, a group of translucent blue lines sprang up around her. Visible only to her eyes, the lines pointed from her chest to nearby sources of metal—all metals, no matter what type. The thickness of the lines was proportionate to the size of the metal pieces they met. Some pointed to bronze door latches, others to crude iron nails holding boards together.
She waited silently. None of the lines moved. Burning steel was an easy way to tell if someone was moving nearby. If they were wearing bits of metal, they would trail telltale moving lines of blue. Of course, that wasn't the main purpose of steel. Vin reached her hand carefully into her belt pouch and pulled out one of the many coins that sat within, muffled by cloth batting. Like all other bits of metal, this coin had a blue line extending from its center to Vin's chest.
She flipped the coin into the air, then mentally grabbed its line and—burning steel—Pushed on the coin. The bit of metal shot into the air, arcing through the mists, forced away by the Push. It plinked to the ground in the middle of the street.
The mists continued to spin. They were thick and mysterious, even to Vin. More dense than a simple fog and more constant than any normal weather pattern, they churned and flowed, making rivulets around her. Her eyes could pierce them; tin made her sight more keen. The night seemed lighter to her, the mists less thick. Yet, they were still there.
A shadow moved in the city square, responding to her coin—which she had Pushed out into the square as a signal. Vin crept forward, and recognized OreSeur the kandra. He wore a different body than he had a year ago, during the days when he had acted the part of Lord Renoux. Yet, this balding, nondescript body had now become just as familiar to Vin.
OreSeur met up with her. "Did you find what you were looking for, Mistress?" he asked, tone respectful—yet somehow still a little hostile. As always.
Vin shook her head, glancing around in the darkness. "Maybe I was wrong," she said. "Maybe I
wasn't
being followed." The acknowledgment made her a bit sad. She'd been looking forward to sparring with the Watcher again tonight. She still didn't even know who he was; the first night, she'd mistaken him for an assassin. And maybe he was. Yet, he seemed to display very little interest in Elend—and a whole lot of interest in Vin.
"We should go back to the wall," Vin decided, standing up. "Elend will be wondering where I went."
OreSeur nodded. At that moment, a burst of coins shot through the mists, spraying toward Vin.