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PROLOGUE

MARSH STRUGGLED TO KILL HIMSELF

His hand treth to make himself reach up and pull the spike free froiven up on trying to break free Three years Three years as an Inquisitor, three years ihts Those years had proven that there was no escape Even now, his mind clouded

And then It took control The world seemed to vibrate around hiled? Why had he worried? All was as it should be

He stepped forward Though he could no longer see as nore steel spikes driven point-first through his eyes--he could sense the room around him The spikes protruded from the back of his skull; if he reached up to touch the back of his head, he could feel the sharp points There was no blood

The spikes gave hi was outlined in fine blue Allo the world The room was of modest size, and several co at the metals contained in their very blood--stood with Marsh Each one had spikes through his eyes

Each one, that is, except for thea spike off of the table beside hi That would have stopped the screa Even a Terrisman steould break dohen confronted by his own violent death The led weakly He was in a very aard position, as he had been tied to the table on top of another person The table had been designed that ith depressions to allow for the body underneath

"What is it you want?" the Terrisman asked "I can tell you no ered the brass spike, feeling its tip There ork to do, but he hesitated, relishing the pain and terror in the man’s voice Hesitated so that he could

Marsh grabbed control of his own mind The room’s scents lost their sweetness, and instead reeked with the stench of blood and death His joy turned to horror His prisoner was a Keeper of Terris--a ood of others Killing hiedy Marsh tried to take corab the linchpin spike from his back--its re The force Somehow, it had control over Marsh--and it needed him and the other Inquisitors to be its hands It was free--Marsh could still feel it exulting in that--but so the world too much by itself An opposition A force that lay over the land like a shield

It was not yet co hidden And M1arsh would find that so it to his master The master that Vin had freed The entity that had been imprisoned within the Well of Ascension

It called itself Ruin

Marsh san to cry; then he stepped forward, raising the spike in his hand He placed it against the whi man’s chest The spike would need to pierce the h the heart, then be driven into the body of the Inquisitor tied below Hey was a messy art

That hy it was so an to pound

PART ONE

LEGACY OF THE SURVIVOR

I aes

1

FATREN SQUINTED UP AT THE RED SUN, which hid behind its perpetual screen of dark haze Black ash fell lightly from the sky, as it did nant and hot, without even a hint of a breeze to lighten Fatren’s ainst the earthen bulwark, looking over Vetitan His town

"How long?" he asked

Druffel scratched his nose His face was stained black with ash He hadn’t giventhe stress of the last few months, Fatren knew that he himself wasn’t much to look at either

"An hour,into the dirt of the bulwark

Fatren sighed, staring up at the falling ash "Do you think it’s true, Druffel? What people are saying?"

"What?" Druffel asked "That the world is ending?"

Fatren nodded

"Don’t know," Druffel said "Don’t really care"

"How can you say that?"

Druffel shrugged, scratching himself "Soon as those koloss arrive, I’ll be dead That’s pretty much the end of the world for me"

Fatren fell silent He didn’t like to voice his doubts; he was supposed to be the strong one When the lords had left the town--a farhtly more urban than a northern plantation--Fatren had been the one who had convinced the skaa to go ahead with their planting Fatren had been the one to keep the press gangs away In a ties and plantations had lost every able-bodiedpopulation It had cost much of their crops in bribes, but Fatren had kept the people safe

Mostly

"The mists didn’t leave until noon today," Fatren said quietly "They’re staying later and later You’ve seen the crops, Druff They’re not doing well--not enough sunlight, I’d guess We won’t have food to eat this winter"

"We won’t last ’til winter," Druffel said "Won’t last ’til nightfall"

The sad thing--the thing that was really disheartening--was that Druffel had once been the optih in hter had been Fatren’s favorite sound