Spook looked over the rim of the rooftop. “It makes me want to fall. To just let go . . .”
Then, he paused. He shook his head, as if waking up. Vin frowned. Something felt different. Tentatively, she extinguished her copper, and realized that she could no longer feel the Lord Ruler’s Soothing. The feeling of awful depression—of soullessness and emptiness—had strangely disappeared. Spook looked up, and the rest of the crewmembers stood just a little straighter.
Vin glanced around. The skaa below looked unchanged. Yet, her friends—
Her eyes found Kelsier. The crewleader stood straight-backed, staring resolutely at the approaching carriage, a look of concentration on his face.
He’s Rioting our emotions, Vin realized. He’s counteracting the Lord Ruler’s power. It was obviously a struggle for Kelsier to protect even their small group.
Breeze is right, Vin thought. How can we fight something like this? The Lord Ruler is Soothing a hundred thousand people at once!
But, Kelsier fought on. Just in case, Vin turned on her copper. Then she burned zinc and reached out to help Kelsier, Rioting the emotions of those around her. It felt like she was Pulling against some massive, immobile wall. Yet, it must have helped, for Kelsier relaxed slightly, shooting her a grateful look.
“Look,” Dockson said, probably unaware of the unseen battle that occurred around him. “The prisoner carts.” He pointed toward a set of ten large, bar-lined carts traveling down the corridor behind the Lord Ruler.
“Do you recognize anyone in them?” Ham said, leaning forward.
“I’m not of the seeing,” Spook said, looking uncomfortable. “Uncle, you really the burn, right?”
“Yes, my copper is on,” Clubs said testily. “You’re safe. We’re far enough away from the Lord Ruler that it wouldn’t matter anyway—that plaza is enormous.”
Spook nodded, then obviously began burning tin. A moment later, he shook his head. “Notting of the recognizing anyone.”
“You weren’t there for a lot of the recruiting, though, Spook,” Ham said, squinting.
“True,” Spook replied. Though his accent remained, he was obviously making an effort to speak normally.
Kelsier stepped up to the ledge, holding a hand up to shade his eyes. “I can see the prisoners. No, I don’t recognize any of the faces. They aren’t captive soldiers.”
“Who, then?” Ham asked.
“Mostly women and children, it appears,” Kelsier said.
“The families of the soldiers?” Ham asked, horrified.
Kelsier shook his head. “I doubt it. They wouldn’t have taken the time to identify dead skaa.”
Ham frowned, looking confused.
“Random people, Hammond,” Breeze said with a quiet sigh. “Examples—casual executions made in order to punish the skaa for harboring rebels.”
“No, not even that,” Kelsier said. “I doubt the Lord Ruler even knows, or cares, that most of those men were recruited from Luthadel. He probably just assumes that it was another countryside rebellion. This . . . this is just a way of reminding everyone who is in control.”
The Lord Ruler’s carriage rolled up a platform onto the central patio. The ominous vehicle pulled to a stop in the exact center of the square, but the Lord Ruler himself remained inside.
The prisoner carts pulled to a stop, and a group of obligators and soldiers began to unload them. Black ash continued to fall as the first group of prisoners—most struggling only weakly—were dragged up onto the raised central platform. An Inquisitor directed the work, gesturing for prisoners to be gathered beside each of the platform’s four bowl-like fountains.
Four prisoners were forced to their knees—one beside each running fountain—and four Inquisitors raised obsidian axes. Four axes fell, and four heads were sheared free. The bodies, still held by soldiers, were allowed to spurt their last lifeblood into the fountain basins.
The fountains began to glisten red as they sprayed into the air. The soldiers tossed the bodies aside, then brought four more people forward.
Spook looked away sickly. “Why . . . why doesn’t Kelsier do something? To saving them, I mean?”
“Don’t be foolish,” Vin said. “There are eight Inquisitors down there—not to mention the Lord Ruler himself. Kelsier would be an idiot to try something.”
Though I wouldn’t be surprised if he considered it, she thought, remembering when Kelsier had been ready to rush down and take on an entire army by himself. She glanced to the side. Kelsier looked like he was forcibly holding himself back—white-knuckled hands gripping the chimney beside him—to keep himself from rushing down to stop the executions.
Spook stumbled over to another part of the rooftop where he could retch without spilling bile onto the people below. Ham groaned slightly, and even Clubs looked saddened. Dockson watched solemnly, as if witnessing the deaths were some sort of vigil. Breeze just shook his head.
Kelsier, however . . . Kelsier was angry. His face red, his muscles tense, his eyes ablaze.
Four more deaths, one of them a child.
“This,” Kelsier said, angrily waving his hand toward the central square. “This is our enemy. There is no quarter here, no walking away. This is no simple job, to be thrown aside when we encounter a few unexpected twists.”
Four more deaths.
“Look at them!” Kelsier demanded, pointing at the bleachers full of nobility. Most of them appeared bored—and a few even seemed to be enjoying themselves, turning and joking with one another as the beheadings continued.
“I know you question me,” Kelsier said, turning to the crew. “You think that I’ve been too hard on the nobility, think that I relish killing them too much. But, can you honestly see those men laughing and tell me that they don’t deserve to die by my blade? I only bring them justice.”
Four more deaths.
Vin searched the bleachers with urgent, tin-enhanced eyes. She found Elend sitting amid a group of younger men. None of them were laughing, and they weren’t the only ones. True, many of the nobility made light of the experience, but there were some small minority who looked horrified.
Kelsier continued. “Breeze, you asked about the atium. I’ll be honest. It was never my main goal—I gathered this crew because I wanted to change things. We’ll grab the atium—we’ll need it to support a new government—but this job isn’t about making me, or any of you, wealthy.
“Yeden is dead. He was our excuse—a way that we could do something good while still pretending to just be thieves. Now that he’s gone, you can give up, if you want. Quit. But, that won’t change anything. The struggle will go on. Men will still die. You’ll just be ignoring it.”
Four more deaths.
“It’s time to stop the charade,” Kelsier said, staring at them each in turn. “If we’re going to do this now, we have to be up-front and honest with ourselves. We have to admit that it isn’t about money. It’s about stopping that.” He pointed at the courtyard with its red fountains—a visible sign of death for the thousands of skaa too far away to even tell what was happening.
“I intend to continue my fight,” Kelsier said quietly. “I realize that some of you question my leadership. You think I’ve been building myself up too much with the skaa. You whisper that I’m making myself into another Lord Ruler—you think that my ego is more important to me than overthrowing the empire.”