“I always smell smoke, lately,” Shum said. “The Ash-mounts are violent this year.”
“No,” Mennis said, feeling increasingly apprehensive. “This is different.” He turned to the north, toward where a group of skaa were gathering. He let go of Shum, shuffling toward the group, feet kicking up dust and ash as he moved.
At the center of the group of people, he found Jess. Her daughter, the one they all assumed had been taken by Lord Tresting, stood beside her. The young girl’s eyes were red from lack of sleep, but she appeared unharmed.
“She came back not long after they took her,” the woman was explaining. “She came and pounded on the door, crying in the mist. Flen was sure it was just a mistwraith impersonating her, but I had to let her in! I don’t care what he says, I’m not giving her up. I brought her out in the sunlight, and she didn’t disappear. That proves she’s not a mistwraith!”
Mennis stumbled back from the growing crowd. Did none of them see it? No taskmasters came to break up the group. No soldiers came to make the morning population counts. Something was very wrong. Mennis continued to the north, moving frantically toward the manor house.
By the time he arrived, others had noticed the twisting line of smoke that was just barely visible in the morning light. Mennis wasn’t the first to arrive at the edge of the short hilltop plateau, but the group made way for him when he did.
The manor house was gone. Only a blackened, smoldering scar remained.
“By the Lord Ruler!” Mennis whispered. “What happened here?”
“He killed them all.”
Mennis turned. The speaker was Jess’s girl. She stood looking down at the fallen house, a satisfied expression on her youthful face.
“They were dead when he brought me out,” she said. “All of them—the soldiers, the taskmasters, the lords… dead. Even Lord Tresting and his obligators. The master had left me, going to investigate when the noises began. On the way out, I saw him lying in his own blood, stab wounds in his chest. The man who saved me threw a torch in the building as we left.”
“This man,” Mennis said. “He had scars on his hands and arms, reaching past the elbows?”
The girl nodded silently.
“What kind of demon was that man?” one of the skaa muttered uncomfortably.
“Mistwraith,” another whispered, apparently forgetting that Kelsier had gone out during the day.
But he did go out into the mist, Mennis thought. And, how did he accomplish a feat like this…? Lord Tresting kept over two dozen soldiers! Did Kelsier have a hidden band of rebels, perhaps?
Kelsier’s words from the night before sounded in his ears.
New days are coming….
“But, what of us?” Tepper asked, terrified. “What will happen when the Lord Ruler hears this? He’ll think that we did it! He’ll send us to the Pits, or maybe just send his koloss to slaughter us outright! Why would that troublemaker do something like this? Doesn’t he understand the damage he’s done?”
“He understands,” Mennis said. “He warned us, Tepper. He came to stir up trouble.”
“But, why?”
“Because he knew we’d never rebel on our own, so he gave us no choice.”
Tepper paled.
Lord Ruler, Mennis thought. I can’t do this. I can barely get up in the mornings—I can’t save this people.
But what other choice was there?
Mennis turned. “Gather the people, Tepper. We must flee before word of this disaster reaches the Lord Ruler.”
“Where will we go?”
“The caves to the east,” Mennis said. “Travelers say there are rebel skaa hiding in them. Perhaps they’ll take us in.”
Tepper paled further. “But…we’d have to travel for days. Spend nights in the mist.”
“We can do that,” Mennis said, “or we can stay here and die.”