The Well of Ascension

1

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.

2

VIN REACTED IMMEDIATELY, SPRINGING AWAY. She moved with incredible speed, tasseled cloak swirling as she skidded across the wet cobblestones. The coins hit the ground behind her, throwing up chips of stone, then leaving trails in the mist as they ricocheted away.

“OreSeur, go!” she snapped, though he was already fleeing toward a nearby alleyway.

Vin spun into a low crouch, hands and feet on the cool stones, Allomantic metals flaring in her stomach. She burned steel, watching the translucent blue lines appear around her. She waited, tense, watching for…

Another group of coins shot from the dark mists, each one trailing a blue line. Vin immediately flared steel and Pushed against the coins, deflecting them out into the darkness.

The night fell still again.

The street around her was wide – for Luthadel – though tenements rose high on either side. Mist spun lazily, making the ends of the street disappear into a haze.

A group of eight men appeared from the mists and approached. Vin smiled. She had been right: Someone was following her. These men weren’t, however, the Watcher. They didn’t have his solid grace, his sense of power. These men were something far more blunt. Assassins.

It made sense. If she had just arrived with an army to conquer Luthadel, the first thing she’d have done was send in a group of Allomancers to kill Elend.

She felt a sudden pressure at her side, and she cursed as she was thrown off balance, her coin pouch jerking away from her waist. She ripped its string free, letting the enemy Allomancer Push the coins away from her. The assassins had at least one Coinshot – a Misting who had the power to burn steel and Push on metals. In fact, two of the assassins trailed blue lines pointing to coin pouches of their own. Vin considered returning the favor and Pushing their pouches away, but hesitated. No need to play her hand yet. She might need those coins.

Without coins of her own, she couldn’t attack from a distance. However, if this was a good team, then attacking from a distance would be pointless – their Coinshots and Lurchers would be ready to deal with shot coins. Fleeing wasn’t an option either. These men hadn’t come for her alone; if she fled, they’d continue on to their real goal.

Nobody sent assassins to kill bodyguards. Assassins killed important men. Men like Elend Venture, king of the Central Dominance. The man she loved.

Vin flared pewter – body growing tense, alert, dangerous. Four Thugs at the front, she thought, eyeing the advancing men. The pewter burners would be inhumanly strong, capable of surviving a great deal of physical punishment. Very dangerous up close. And the one carrying the wooden shield is a Lurcher.

She feinted forward, causing the approaching Thugs to jump backward. Eight Mistings against one Mistborn was decent odds for them – but only if they were careful. The two Coinshots moved up the sides of the street, so that they’d be able to Push at her from both directions. The last man, standing quietly beside the Lurcher, had to be a Smoker – relatively unimportant in a fight, his purpose was to hide his team from enemy Allomancers.

Eight Mistings. Kelsier could have done it; he’d killed an Inquisitor. She wasn’t Kelsier, however. She had yet to decide if that was a bad or a good thing.

Vin took a deep breath, wishing she had a bit of atium to spare, and burned iron. This let her Pull on a nearby coin – one of those that had been shot at her – much as steel would have let her Push on it. She caught it, dropped it, then jumped, making as if to Push on the coin and shoot herself into the air.

One of the Coinshots, however, Pushed against the coin, shooting it away. Since Allomancy would only let a person Push directly away from – or Pull directly toward – their body, Vin was left without a decent anchor. Pushing against the coin would only shoot her sideways.

She dropped back to the ground.

Let them think they have me trapped, she thought, crouching in the center of the street. The Thugs approached a little more confidently. Yes, Vin thought. I know what you’re thinking. This is the Mistborn who killed the Lord Ruler? This scrawny thing? Can it be possible?

I wonder the same thing myself.

The first Thug ducked in to attack, and Vin burst into motion. Obsidian daggers flashed in the night as she ripped them free from their sheaths, and blood sprayed black in the darkness as she ducked beneath the Thug’s staff and slashed her weapons across his thighs.

The man cried out. The night was no longer silent.

Men cursed as Vin moved through them. The Thug’s partner attacked her – blurringly fast, his muscles fueled by pewter. His staff whipped a tassel from Vin’s mistcloak as she threw herself to the ground, then pushed herself back up out of a third Thug’s reach.

A spray of coins flew toward her. Vin reached out and Pushed on them. The Coinshot, however, continued to Push – and Vin’s Push smashed against his.

Pushing and Pulling metals was all about weight. And – with the coins between them – that meant Vin’s weight was slammed against the assassin’s weight. Both were tossed backward. Vin shot out of a Thug’s reach; the Coinshot fell to the ground.

A flurry of coins came at her from the other direction. Still tumbling in the air, Vin flared steel, giving herself an extra burst of power. Blue lines were a jumbled mess, but she didn’t need to isolate the coins to Push them all away.

This Coinshot let go of his missiles as soon as he felt Vin’s touch. The bits of metal scattered out into the mists.

Vin hit the cobblestones shoulder-first. She rolled – flaring pewter to enhance her balance – and flipped to her feet. At the same time, she burned iron and Pulled hard on the disappearing coins.

They shot back toward her. As soon as they got close, Vin jumped to the side and Pushed them toward the approaching Thugs. The coins, however, immediately veered away, twisting through the mists toward the Lurcher. He was unable to Push the coins away – like all Mistings, he only had one Allomantic power, and his was to Pull with iron.

He did this effectively, protecting the Thugs. He raised his shield and grunted from the impact as the coins hit it and bounced away.

Vin was already moving again. She ran directly for the now exposed Coinshot to her left, the one who had fallen to the ground. The man yelped in surprise, and the other Coinshot tried to distract Vin, but he was too slow.

The Coinshot died with a dagger in his chest. He was no Thug; he couldn’t burn pewter to enhance his body. Vin pulled out her dagger, then yanked his pouch free. He gurgled quietly and collapsed back to the stones.

One, Vin thought, spinning, sweat flying from her brow. She now faced seven men down the corridor-like street. They probably expected her to flee. Instead, she charged.

As she got close to the Thugs, she jumped – then threw down the pouch she’d taken from the dying man. The remaining Coinshot cried out, immediately Pushing it away. Vin, however, got some lift from the coins, throwing herself in a leap directly over the heads of the Thugs.

One of them – the wounded one – had unfortunately been smart enough to remain behind to protect the Coinshot. The Thug raised his cudgel as Vin landed. She ducked his first attack, raised her dagger, and–

A blue line danced into her vision. Quick. Vin reacted immediately, twisting and Pushing against a door latch to throw herself out of the way. She hit the ground on her side, then flung herself up with one hand. She landed skidding on mist-wetted feet.

A coin hit the ground behind her, bouncing against the cobbles. It hadn’t come close to hitting her. In fact, it had seemed aimed at the remaining assassin Coinshot. He’d probably been forced to Push it away.

But who had fired it?

OreSeur? Vin wondered. But, that was foolish. The kandra was no Allomancer – and besides, he wouldn’t have taken the initiative. OreSeur did only what he was expressly told.

The assassin Coinshot looked equally confused. Vin glanced up, flaring tin, and was rewarded with the sight of a man standing atop a nearby building. A dark silhouette. He didn’t even bother to hide.

It’s him, she thought. The Watcher.

The Watcher remained atop his perch, offering no further interference as the Thugs rushed Vin. She cursed as she found three staves coming at her at once. She ducked one, spun around the other, then planted a dagger in the chest of the man holding the third. He stumbled backward, but didn’t drop. Pewter kept him on his feet.

Why did the Watcher interfere? Vin thought as she jumped away. Why would he shoot that coin at a Coinshot who could obviously Push it away?

Her preoccupation with the Watcher nearly cost her her life as an unnoticed Thug charged her from the side. It was the man whose legs she’d slashed. Vin reacted just in time to dodge his blow. This, however, put her into range of the other three.

All attacked at once.

She actually managed to twist out of the way of two of the strikes. One, however, crashed into her side. The powerful blow tossed her across the street, and she collided with a shop’s wooden door. She heard a crack – from the door, fortunately, and not her bones – and she slumped to the ground, daggers lost. A normal person would be dead. Her pewter-strengthened body, however, was tougher than that.

She gasped for breath, forcing herself up to her feet, and flared tin. The metal enhanced her senses – including her sense of pain – and the sudden shock cleared her mind. Her side ached where she’d been struck. But she couldn’t stop. Not with a Thug charging her, swinging his staff in an overhead blow.

Crouching before the doorway, Vin flared pewter and caught the staff in both hands. She growled, pulling back her left hand, then cracking her fist against the weapon, shattering the fine hardwood in a single blow. The Thug stumbled, and Vin smashed her half of the staff across his eyes.

Though dazed, he stayed on his feet. Can’t fight the Thugs, she thought. I have to keep moving.

She dashed to the side, ignoring her pain. The Thugs tried to follow, but she was lighter, thinner, and – much more important – faster. She circled them, coming back toward the Coinshot, Smoker, and Lurcher. A wounded Thug had again retreated to protect these men.

As Vin approached, the Coinshot threw a double handful of coins at her. Vin Pushed the coins away, then reached out and Pulled on the ones in the bag at the man’s waist.

The Coinshot grunted as the bag whipped toward Vin. It was tied by a short tether to his waist, and the pull of her weight jerked him forward. The Thug grabbed and steadied him.

And since her anchor couldn’t move, Vin was instead Pulled toward it. She flared her iron, flying through the air, raising a fist. The Coinshot cried out and he pulled a tie to free the bag.

Too late. Vin’s momentum carried her forward, and she drove her fist into the Coinshot’s cheek as she passed. His head spun around, neck snapping. As Vin landed, she brought her elbow up into the surprised Thug’s chin, tossing him backward. Her foot followed, crashing against the Thug’s neck.

Neither rose. That was three down. The discarded coin pouch fell to the ground, breaking and throwing a hundred sparkling bits of copper across the cobblestones around Vin. She ignored the throbbing in her elbow and faced down the Lurcher. He stood with his shield, looking strangely unworried.

A crack sounded behind her. Vin cried out, her tin-enhanced ears overreacting to the sudden sound. Pain shot through her head, and she raised hands to her ears. She’d forgotten the Smoker, who stood holding two lengths of wood, crafted to make sharp noises when pounded together.

Movements and reactions, actions and consequences – these were the essence of Allomancy. Tin made her eyes pierce the mists – giving her an edge over the assassins. However, the tin also made her ears extremely acute. The Smoker raised his sticks again. Vin growled and yanked a handful of coins off the cobblestones, then shot them at the Smoker. The Lurcher, of course, Pulled them toward him instead. They hit the shield and bounced free. And as they sprayed into the air, Vin carefully Pushed one so it fell behind him.

The man lowered his shield, unaware of the coin Vin had manipulated. Vin Pulled, whipping the single coin directly toward her – and into the back of the Lurcher’s chest. He fell without a sound.

Four.

All fell still. The Thugs running toward her drew to a stop, and the Smoker lowered his sticks. They had no Coinshots and no Lurchers – nobody that could Push or Pull metal – and Vin stood amid a field of coins. If she used them, even the Thugs would fall quickly. All she had to do was–

Another coin shot through the air, fired from the Watcher’s rooftop. Vin cursed, ducking. The coin, however, didn’t strike her. It took the stick-holding Smoker directly in the forehead. The man toppled backward, dead.

What? Vin thought, staring at the dead man.

The Thugs charged, but Vin retreated, frowning. Why kill the Smoker? He wasn’t a threat anymore.

Unless…

Vin extinguished her copper, then burned bronze, the metal that let her sense when other Allomancers were using powers nearby. She couldn’t feel the Thugs burning pewter. They were still being Smoked, their Allomancy hidden.

Someone else was burning copper.

Suddenly, it all made sense. It made sense that the group would risk attacking a full Mistborn. It made sense that the Watcher had fired at the Coinshot. It made sense that he had killed the Smoker.

Vin was in grave danger.

She only had a moment to make her decision. She did so on a hunch, but she’d grown up on the streets, a thief and a scam artist. Hunches felt more natural to her than logic ever would.

“OreSeur!” she yelled. “Go for the palace!”

It was a code, of course. Vin jumped back, momentarily ignoring the Thugs as her servant ducked out of an alleyway. He pulled something off his belt and whipped it toward Vin: a small glass vial, the kind that Allomancers used to store metal shavings. Vin quickly Pulled the vial to her hand. A short distance away, the second Coinshot – who had lain there, as if dead – now cursed and scrambled to his feet.

Vin spun, drinking the vial with a quick gulp. It contained only a single bead of metal. Atium. She couldn’t risk carrying it on her own body – couldn’t risk having it Pulled away from her during a fight. She’d ordered OreSeur to remain close this night, ready to give her the vial in an emergency.

The “Coinshot” pulled a hidden glass dagger from his waist, charging at Vin ahead of the Thugs, who were getting close. Vin paused for just a moment – regretting her decision, but seeing its inevitability.

The men had hidden a Mistborn among their numbers. A Mistborn like Vin, a person who could burn all ten metals. A Mistborn who had been waiting for the right moment to strike at her, to catch her unprepared.

He would have atium, and there was only one way to fight someone who had atium. It was the ultimate Allomantic metal, usable only by full Mistborn, and it could easily decide the fate of a battle. Each bead was worth a fortune – but what good was a fortune if she died?

Vin burned her atium.

The world around her seemed to change. Every moving object – swinging shutters, blowing ash, attacking Thugs, even trails of mist – shot out a translucent replica of itself. The replicas moved just in front of their real counterparts, showing Vin exactly what would happen a few moments in the future.

Only the Mistborn was immune. Rather than shooting out a single atium shadow, he released dozens – the sign that he was burning atium. He paused just briefly. Vin’s own body would have just exploded with dozens of confusing atium shadows. Now that she could see the future, she could see what he was going to do. That, in turn, changed what she was going to do. That changed what he was going to do. And so, like the reflections in two mirrors facing each other, the possibilities continued into infinity. Neither had an advantage.

Though their Mistborn paused, the four unfortunate Thugs continued to charge, having no way to know that Vin burned atium. Vin turned, standing beside the body of the fallen Smoker. With one foot, she kicked the soundsticks into the air.

A Thug arrived, swinging. His diaphanous atium shadow of a staff blow passed through her body. Vin twisted, ducking to the side, and could feel the real staff pass over her ear. The maneuver seemed easy within the aura of atium.

She snatched one of the soundsticks from the air, then slammed it up into the Thug’s neck. She spun, catching the other soundstick, then twisted back and cracked it against the man’s skull. He fell forward, groaning, and Vin spun again, easily dodging between two more staves.

She smashed the noise sticks against the sides of a second Thug’s head. They shattered – ringing with a hollow sound like that of a musician’s beat – as the Thug’s skull cracked.

He fell, and did not move again. Vin kicked his staff into the air, then dropped the broken soundsticks and caught it. She spun, twisting the staff and tripping both remaining Thugs at once. In a fluid motion, she delivered two swift – yet powerful – blows to their faces.

She fell to a crouch as the men died, holding the staff in one hand, her other hand resting against the mist-wetted cobbles. The Mistborn held back, and she could see uncertainty in his eyes. Power didn’t necessarily mean competence, and his two best advantages – surprise and atium – had been negated.

He turned, Pulling a group of coins up off the ground, then shot them. Not toward Vin – but toward OreSeur, who still stood in the mouth of an alleyway. The Mistborn obviously hoped that Vin’s concern for her servant would draw her attention away, perhaps letting him escape.

He was wrong.

Vin ignored the coins, dashing forward. Even as OreSeur cried out in pain – a dozen coins piercing his skin – Vin threw her staff at the Mistborn’s head. Once it left her fingers, however, its atium shadow became firm and singular.

The Mistborn assassin ducked, dodging perfectly. The move distracted him long enough for her to close the distance, however. She needed to attack quickly; the atium bead she’d swallowed had been small. It would burn out quickly. And, once it was gone, she’d be exposed. Her opponent would have total power over her. He–

Her terrified opponent raised his dagger. At that moment, his atium ran out.

Vin’s predatory instincts reacted instantly, and she swung a fist. He raised an arm to block her blow, but she saw it coming, and she changed the direction of her attack. The blow took him square in the face. Then, with deft fingers, she snatched his glass dagger before it could fall and shatter. She stood and swung it through her opponent’s neck.

He fell quietly.

Vin stood, breathing heavily, the group of assassins dead around her. For just a moment, she felt overwhelming power. With atium, she was invincible. She could dodge any blow, kill any enemy.

Her atium ran out.

Suddenly, everything seemed to grow dull. The pain in her side returned to her mind, and she coughed, groaning. She’d have bruises – large ones. Perhaps some cracked ribs.

But she’d won again. Barely. What would happen when she failed? When she didn’t watch carefully enough, or fight skillfully enough?

Elend would die.

Vin sighed, and looked up. He was still there, watching her from atop a roof. Despite a half-dozen chases spread across several months, she’d never managed to catch him. Someday she would corner him in the night.

But not today. She didn’t have the energy. In fact, a part of her worried that he’d strike her down. But… she thought. He saved me. I would have died if I’d gotten too close to that hidden Mistborn. An instant of him burning atium with me unaware, and I’d have found his daggers in my chest.

The Watcher stood for a few more moments – wreathed, as always, in the curling mists. Then he turned, jumping away into the night. Vin let him go; she had to deal with OreSeur.

She stumbled over to him, then paused. His nondescript body – in a servant’s trousers and shirt – had been pelted with coins, and blood seeped from the several wounds.

He looked up at her. “What?” he asked.

“I didn’t expect there to be blood.”

OreSeur snorted. “You probably didn’t expect me to feel pain either.”

Vin opened her mouth, then paused. Actually, she hadn’t ever thought about it. Then she hardened herself. What right does this thing have to chastise me?

Still, OreSeur had proven useful. “Thank you for throwing me the vial,” she said.

“It was my duty, Mistress,” OreSeur said, grunting as he pulled his broken body up against the side of the alleyway. “I was charged with your protection by Master Kelsier. As always, I serve the Contract.”

Ah, yes. The almighty Contract. “Can you walk?”

“Only with effort, Mistress. The coins shattered several of these bones. I will need a new body. One of the assassins, perhaps?”

Vin frowned. She glanced back toward the dead men, and her stomach twisted slightly at the gruesome sight of their fallen bodies. She’d killed them, eight men, with the cruel efficiency that Kelsier had trained in her.

This is what I am, she thought. A killer, like those men. That was how it had to be. Someone had to protect Elend.

However, the thought of OreSeur eating one of them – digesting the corpse, letting his strange kandra senses memorize the positioning of muscles, skin, and organs, so that he could reproduce them – sickened her.

She glanced to the side, and saw the veiled scorn in OreSeur’s eyes. They both knew what she thought of him eating human bodies. They both knew what he thought of her prejudice.

“No,” Vin said. “We won’t use one of these men.”

“You’ll have to find me another body, then,” OreSeur said. “The Contract states that I cannot be forced to kill men.”

Vin’s stomach twisted again. I’ll think of something, she thought. His current body was that of a murderer, taken after an execution. Vin was still worried that someone in the city would recognize the face.

“Can you get back to the palace?” Vin asked.

“With time,” OreSeur said.

Vin nodded, dismissing him, then turned back toward the bodies. Somehow she suspected that this night would mark a distinct turning point in the fate of the Central Dominance.

Straff’s assassins had done more damage than they would ever know. That bead of atium had been her last. The next time a Mistborn attacked her, she would be exposed.

And would likely die as easily as the Mistborn she’d slain this night.

3

ELEND DROPPED HIS PEN TO his desk with a sigh, then leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead.

Elend figured that he knew as much about political theory as any living man. He’d certainly read more about economics, studied more about governments, and held more political debates than anyone he knew. He understood all the theories about how to make a nation stable and fair, and had tried to implement those in his new kingdom.

He just hadn’t realized how incredibly frustrating a parliamentary council would be.

He stood up and walked over to get himself some chilled wine. He paused, however, as he glanced out his balcony doors. In the distance, a glowing haze shone through the mists. The campfires of his father’s army.

He put down the wine. He was already exhausted, and the alcohol probably wouldn’t help. I can’t afford to fall asleep until I get this done! he thought, forcing himself to return to his seat. The Assembly would meet soon, and he needed to have the proposal finished tonight.

Elend picked up the sheet, scanning its contents. His handwriting looked cramped even to him, and the page was scattered with crossed-out lines and notations – reflections of his frustration. They’d known about the army’s approach for weeks now, and the Assembly still quibbled about what to do.

Some of its members wanted to offer a peace treaty; others thought they should simply surrender the city. Still others felt they should attack without delay. Elend feared that the surrender faction was gaining strength; hence his proposal. The motion, if passed, would buy him more time. As king, he already had prime right of parlay with a foreign dictator. The proposal would forbid the Assembly from doing anything rash until he’d at least met with his father.

Elend sighed again, dropping the sheet. The Assembly was only twenty-four men, but getting them to agree on anything was almost more challenging than any of the problems they argued about. Elend turned, looking past the solitary lamp on his desk, out through the open balcony doors and toward the fires. Overhead, he heard feet scuttling on the rooftop – Vin, going about her nightly rounds.

Elend smiled fondly, but not even thinking of Vin could restore his good temper. That group of assassins she fought tonight. Can I use that somehow? Perhaps if he made the attack public, the Assembly would be reminded of the disdain Straff had for human life, and then be less likely to surrender the city to him. But… perhaps they’d also get frightened that he’d send assassins after them, and be more likely to surrender.

Sometimes Elend wondered if the Lord Ruler had been right. Not in oppressing the people, of course – but in retaining all of the power for himself. The Final Empire had been nothing if not stable. It had lasted a thousand years, weathering rebellions, maintaining a strong hold on the world.

The Lord Ruler was immortal, though, Elend thought. That’s an advantage I’ll certainly never have.

The Assembly was a better way. By giving the people a parliament with real legal authority, Elend would craft a stable government. The people would have a king – a man to provide continuity, a symbol of unity. A man who wouldn’t be tainted by the need to get reappointed. However, they would also have an Assembly – a council made up of their peers that could voice their concerns.

It all sounded wonderful in theory. Assuming they survived the next few months.

Elend rubbed his eyes, then dipped his pen and began to scratch new sentences at the bottom of the document.

The Lord Ruler was dead.

Even a year later, Vin sometimes found that concept difficult to grasp. The Lord Ruler had been… everything. King and god, lawmaker and ultimate authority. He had been eternal and absolute, and now he was dead.

Vin had killed him.

Of course, the truth wasn’t as impressive as the stories. It hadn’t been heroic strength or mystical power that had let Vin defeat the emperor. She’d just figured out the trick that he’d been using to make himself immortal, and she’d fortunately – almost accidentally – exploited his weakness. She wasn’t brave or clever. Just lucky.

Vin sighed. Her bruises still throbbed, but she had suffered far worse. She sat atop the palace – once Keep Venture – just above Elend’s balcony. Her reputation might have been unearned, but it had helped keep Elend alive. Though dozens of warlords squabbled in the land that had once been the Final Empire, none of them had marched on Luthadel.

Until now.

Fires burned outside the city. Straff would soon know that his assassins had failed. What then? Assault the city? Ham and Clubs warned that Luthadel couldn’t hold against a determined attack. Straff had to know that.

Still, for the moment, Elend was safe. Vin had gotten pretty good at finding and killing assassins; barely a month passed that she didn’t catch someone trying to sneak into the palace. Many were just spies, and very few were Allomancers. However, a normal man’s steel knife would kill Elend just as easily as an Allomancer’s glass one.

She wouldn’t let that occur. Whatever else happened – whatever sacrifices it required – Elend had to stay alive.

Suddenly apprehensive, she slipped over to the skylight to check on him. Elend sat safely at his desk below, scribbling away on some new proposal or edict. Kingship had changed the man remarkably little. About four years her senior – placing him in his early twenties – Elend was a man who put great stock in learning, but little in appearance. He only bothered to comb his hair when he attended an important function, and he somehow managed to wear even well-tailored outfits with an air of dishevelment.

He was probably the best man she had ever known. Earnest, determined, clever, and caring. And, for some reason, he loved her. At times, that fact was even more amazing to her than her part in the Lord Ruler’s death.

Vin looked up, glancing back at the army lights. Then she looked to the sides. The Watcher had not returned. Often on nights like this he would tempt her, coming dangerously close to Elend’s room before disappearing into the city.

Of course, if he’d wanted to kill Elend, he could just have done it while I was fighting the others…

It was a disquieting thought. Vin couldn’t watch Elend every moment. He was exposed a frightening amount of the time.

True, Elend had other bodyguards, and some were even Allomancers. They, however, were stretched as thin as she was. This night’s assassins had been the most skilled, and most dangerous, that she had ever faced. She shivered, thinking about the Mistborn who had hid among them. He hadn’t been very good, but he wouldn’t have needed much skill to burn atium, then strike Vin directly in the right place.

The shifting mists continued to spin. The army’s presence whispered a disturbing truth: The surrounding warlords were beginning to consolidate their domains, and were thinking about expansion. Even if Luthadel stood against Straff somehow, others would come.

Quietly, Vin closed her eyes and burned bronze, still worried that the Watcher – or some other Allomancer – might be nearby, planning to attack Elend in the supposedly safe aftermath of the assassination attempt. Most Mistborn considered bronze to be a relatively useless metal, as it was easily negated. With copper, a Mistborn could mask their Allomancy – not to mention protect themselves from emotional manipulation by zinc or brass. Most Mistborn considered it foolish not to have their copper on at all times.

And yet… Vin had the ability to pierce copperclouds.

A coppercloud wasn’t a visible thing. It was far more vague. A pocket of deadened air where Allomancers could burn their metals and not worry that bronze burners would be able to sense them. But Vin could sense Allomancers who used metals inside of a coppercloud. She still wasn’t certain why. Even Kelsier, the most powerful Allomancer she had known, hadn’t been able to pierce a coppercloud.

Tonight, however, she sensed nothing.

With a sigh, she opened her eyes. Her strange power was confusing, but it wasn’t unique to her. Marsh had confirmed that Steel Inquisitors could pierce copperclouds, and she was certain that the Lord Ruler had been able to do so. But… why her? Why could Vin – a girl who barely had two years’ training as a Mistborn – do it?

There was more. She still remembered vividly the morning when she’d fought the Lord Ruler. There was something about that event that she hadn’t told anyone – partially because it made her fear, just a bit, that the rumors and legends about her were true. Somehow, she’d drawn upon the mists, using them to fuel her Allomancy instead of metals.

It was only with that power, the power of the mists, that she had been able to beat the Lord Ruler in the end. She liked to tell herself that she had simply been lucky in figuring out the Lord Ruler’s tricks. But… there had been something strange that night, something that she’d done. Something that she shouldn’t have been able to do, and had never been able to repeat.

Vin shook her head. There was so much they didn’t know, and not just about Allomancy. She and the other leaders of Elend’s fledgling kingdom tried their best, but without Kelsier to guide them, Vin felt blind. Plans, successes, and even goals were like shadowy figures in the mist, formless and indistinct.

You shouldn’t have left us, Kell, she thought. You saved the world – but you should have been able to do it without dying. Kelsier, the Survivor of Hathsin, the man who had conceived and implemented the collapse of the Final Empire. Vin had known him, worked with him, been trained by him. He was a legend and a hero. Yet, he had also been a man. Fallible. Imperfect. It was easy for the skaa to revere him, then blame Elend and the others for the dire situation that Kelsier had created.

The thought left her feeling bitter. Thinking about Kelsier often did that. Perhaps it was the sense of abandonment, or perhaps it was just the uncomfortable knowledge that Kelsier – like Vin herself – didn’t fully live up to his reputation.

Vin sighed, closing her eyes, still burning bronze. The evening’s fight had taken a lot out of her, and she was beginning to dread the hours she still intended to spend watching. It would be difficult to remain alert when–

She sensed something.

Vin snapped her eyes open, flaring her tin. She spun and stooped against the rooftop to obscure her profile. There was someone out there, burning metal. Bronze pulses thumped weakly, faint, almost unnoticeable – like someone playing drums very quietly. They were muffled by a coppercloud. The person – whoever it was – thought that their copper would hide them.

So far, Vin hadn’t left anyone alive, save Elend and Marsh, who knew of her strange power.

Vin crept forward, fingers and toes chilled by the roof’s copper sheeting. She tried to determine the direction of the pulses. Something was… odd about them. She had trouble distinguishing the metals her enemy was burning. Was that the quick, beating thump of pewter? Or was it the rhythm of iron? The pulses seemed indistinct, like ripples in a thick mud.

They were coming from somewhere very close… On the rooftop…

Just in front of her.

Vin froze, crouching, the night breezes blowing a wall of mist across her. Where was he? Her senses argued with each other; her bronze said there was something right in front of her, but her eyes refused to agree.

She studied the dark mists, glanced upward just to be certain, then stood. This is the first time my bronze has been wrong, she thought with a frown.

Then she saw it.

Not something in the mists, but something of the mists. The figure stood a few feet away, easy to miss, for its shape was only faintly outlined by the mist. Vin gasped, stepping backward.

The figure continued to stand where it was. She couldn’t tell much about it; its features were cloudy and vague, outlined by the chaotic churnings of windblown mist. If not for the form’s persistence, she could have dismissed it – like the shape of an animal seen briefly in the clouds.

But it stayed. Each new curl of the mist added definition to thin its body and long head. Haphazard, yet persistent. It suggested a human, but it lacked the Watcher’s solidity. It felt… looked… wrong.

The figure took a step forward.

Vin reacted instantly, throwing up a handful of coins and Pushing them through the air. The bits of metal zipped through the mist, trailing streaks, and passed right through the shadowy figure.

It stood for a moment. Then, it simply puffed away, dissipating into the mists’ random curls.

Elend wrote the final line with a flair, though he knew he’d simply have a scribe rewrite the proposal. Still, he was proud. He thought that he’d been able to work out an argument that would finally convince the Assembly that they could not simply surrender to Straff.

He glanced unconsciously toward a stack of papers on his desk. On their top sat an innocent-seeming yellow letter, still folded, bloodlike smudge of wax broken at the seal. The letter had been short. Elend remembered its words easily.

Son,

I trust you’ve enjoyed seeing after Venture interests in Luthadel. I have secured the Northern Dominance, and will shortly be returning to our keep in Luthadel. You may turn over control of the city to me at that time.

King Straff Venture

Of all the warlords and despots that had afflicted the Final Empire since the Lord Ruler’s death, Straff was the most dangerous. Elend knew this firsthand. His father was a true imperial nobleman: He saw life as a competition between lords to see who could earn the greatest reputation. He had played the game well, making House Venture the most powerful of the pre-Collapse noble families.

Elend’s father would not see the Lord Ruler’s death as a tragedy or a victory – just as an opportunity. The fact that Straff’s supposedly weak-willed fool of a son now claimed to be king of the Central Dominance probably gave him no end of mirth.

Elend shook his head, turning back to the proposal. A few more rereads, a few tweaks, and I’ll finally be able to get some sleep. I just–

A cloaked form dropped from the skylight in the roof and landed with a quiet thump behind him.

Elend raised an eyebrow, turning toward the crouching figure. “You know, I leave the balcony open for a reason, Vin. You could come in that way, if you wanted.”

“I know,” Vin said. Then she darted across the room, moving with an Allomancer’s unnatural litheness. She checked beneath his bed, then moved over to his closet and threw open the doors. She jumped back with the tension of an alert animal, but apparently found nothing inside that met with her disapproval, for she moved over to peek through the door leading into the rest of Elend’s chambers.

Elend watched her with fondness. It had taken him some time to get used to Vin’s particular… idiosyncrasies. He teased her about being paranoid; she just claimed she was careful. Regardless, half the time she visited his chambers she checked underneath his bed and in his closet. The other times, she held herself back – but Elend often caught her glancing distrustfully toward potential hiding places.

She was far less jumpy when she didn’t have a particular reason to worry about him. However, Elend was only just beginning to understand that there was a very complex person hiding behind the face he had once known as Valette Renoux’s. He had fallen in love with her courtly side without ever knowing the nervous, furtive Mistborn side. It was still a little difficult to see them as the same person.

Vin closed the door, then paused briefly, watching him with her round, dark eyes. Elend found himself smiling. Despite her oddities – or, more likely because of them – he loved this thin woman with the determined eyes and blunt temperament. She was like no one he had ever known – a woman of simple, yet honest, beauty and wit.

She did, however, sometimes worry him.

“Vin?” he asked, standing.

“Have you seen anything strange tonight?”

Elend paused. “Besides you?”

She frowned, striding across the room. Elend watched her small form, clothed in black trousers and a man’s buttoning shirt, mistcloak tassels trailing behind her. She wore the cloak’s hood down, as usual, and she stepped with a supple grace – the unconscious elegance of a person burning pewter.

Focus! he told himself. You really are getting tired. “Vin? What’s wrong?”

Vin glanced toward the balcony. “That Mistborn, the Watcher, is in the city again.”

“You’re sure?”

Vin nodded. “But… I don’t think he’s going to come for you tonight.”

Elend frowned. The balcony doors were still open, and trails of mist puffed through them, creeping along the floor until they finally evaporated. Beyond those doors was… darkness. Chaos.

It’s just mist, he told himself. Water vapor. Nothing to fear. “What makes you think the Mistborn won’t come for me?”

Vin shrugged. “I just feel he won’t.”

She often answered that way. Vin had grown up a creature of the streets, and she trusted her instincts. Oddly, so did Elend. He eyed her, reading the uncertainty in her posture. Something else had unsettled her this night. He looked into her eyes, holding them for a moment, until she glanced away.

“What?” he asked.

“I saw… something else,” she said. “Or, I thought I did. Something in the mist, like a person formed from smoke. I could feel it, too, with Allomancy. It disappeared, though.”

Elend frowned more deeply. He walked forward, putting his arms around her. “Vin, you’re pushing yourself too hard. You can’t keep prowling the city at night and then staying up all day. Even Allomancers need rest.”

She nodded quietly. In his arms, she didn’t seem to him like the powerful warrior who had slain the Lord Ruler. She felt like a woman past the edge of fatigue, a woman overwhelmed by events – a woman who probably felt a lot like Elend did.

She let him hold her. At first, there was a slight stiffness to her posture. It was as if a piece of her still expected to be hurt – a primal sliver that couldn’t understand that it was possible to be touched out of love rather than anger. Then, however, she relaxed. Elend was one of the few she could do that around. When she held him – really held him – she clung with a desperation that bordered on terror. Somehow, despite her powerful skill as an Allomancer and her stubborn determination, Vin was frighteningly vulnerable. She seemed to need Elend. For that, he felt lucky.

Frustrated, at times. But lucky. Vin and he hadn’t discussed his marriage proposal and her refusal, though Elend often thought of the encounter.

Women are difficult enough to understand, he thought, and I had to go and pick the oddest one of the lot. Still, he couldn’t really complain. She loved him. He could deal with her idiosyncrasies.

Vin sighed, then looked up at him, finally relaxing as he leaned down to kiss her. He held it for a long moment, and she sighed. After the kiss, she rested her head on his shoulder. “We do have another problem,” she said quietly. “I used the last of the atium tonight.”

“Fighting the assassins?”

Vin nodded.

“Well, we knew it would happen eventually. Our stockpile couldn’t last forever.”

“Stockpile?” Vin asked. “Kelsier only left us six beads.”

Elend sighed, then pulled her tight. His new government was supposed to have inherited the Lord Ruler’s atium reserves – a supposed cache of the metal comprising an amazing treasure. Kelsier had counted on his new kingdom holding those riches; he had died expecting it. There was only one problem. Nobody had ever found the reserve. They had found some small bit – the atium that had made up the bracers that the Lord Ruler had used as a Feruchemical battery to store up age. However, they had spent those on supplies for the city, and they had actually contained only a very small bit of atium. Nothing like the cache was said to have. There should still be, somewhere in the city, a wealth of atium thousands of times larger than those bracers.

“We’ll just have to deal with it,” Elend said.

“If a Mistborn attacks you, I won’t be able to kill him.”

“Only if he has atium,” Elend said. “It’s becoming more and more rare. I doubt the other kings have much of it.”

Kelsier had destroyed the Pits of Hathsin, the only place where atium could be mined. Still, if Vin did have to fight someone with atium…

Don’t think about that, he told himself. Just keep searching. Perhaps we can buy some. Or maybe we’ll find the Lord Ruler’s cache. If it even exists…

Vin looked up at him, reading the concern in his eyes, and he knew she had arrived at the same conclusions as he. There was little that could be accomplished at the moment; Vin had done well to conserve their atium as long as she had. Still, as Vin stepped back and let Elend return to his table, he couldn’t help thinking about how they could have spent that atium. His people would need food for the winter.

But, by selling the metal, he thought, sitting, we would have put more of the world’s most dangerous Allomantic weapon into the hands of our enemies. Better that Vin used it up.

As he began to work again, Vin poked her head over his shoulder, obscuring his lamplight. “What is it?” she asked.

“The proposal blocking the Assembly until I’ve had my right of parlay.”

“Again?” she asked, cocking her head and squinting as she tried to make out his handwriting.

“The Assembly rejected the last version.”

Vin frowned. “Why don’t you just tell them that they have to accept it? You’re the king.”

“Now, see,” Elend said, “that’s what I’m trying to prove by all this. I’m just one man, Vin – maybe my opinion isn’t better than theirs. If we all work on the proposal together, it will come out better than if one man had done it himself.”

Vin shook her head. “It will be too weak. No teeth. You should trust yourself more.”

“It’s not about trust. It’s about what’s right. We spent a thousand years fighting off the Lord Ruler – if I do things the same way he did, then what will be the difference?”

Vin turned and looked him in the eyes. “The Lord Ruler was an evil man. You’re a good one. That’s the difference.”

Elend smiled. “It’s that easy for you, isn’t it?”

Vin nodded.

Elend leaned up and kissed her again. “Well, some of us have to make things a little more complicated, so you’ll have to humor us. Now, kindly remove yourself from my light so I can get back to work.”

She snorted, but stood up and rounded the desk, leaving behind a faint scent of perfume. Elend frowned. When’d she put that on? Many of her motions were so quick that he missed them.

Perfume – just another of the apparent contradictions that made up the woman who called herself Vin. She wouldn’t have been wearing it out in the mists; she usually put it on just for him. Vin liked to be unobtrusive, but she loved wearing scents – and got annoyed at him if he didn’t notice when she was trying out a new one. She seemed suspicious and paranoid, yet she trusted her friends with a dogmatic loyalty. She went out at night in black and gray, trying so hard to hide – but Elend had seen her at the balls a year ago, and she had looked natural in gowns and dresses.

For some reason she had stopped wearing those. She hadn’t ever explained why.

Elend shook his head, turning back to his proposal. Next to Vin, politics seemed simplistic. She rested her arms on the desktop, watching him work, yawning.

“You should get some rest,” he said, dipping his pen again.

Vin paused, then nodded. She removed her mistcloak, wrapped it around herself, then curled up on the rug beside his desk.

Elend paused. “I didn’t mean here, Vin,” he said with amusement.

“There’s still a Mistborn out there somewhere,” she said with a tired, muffled voice. “I’m not leaving you.” She twisted in the cloak, and Elend caught a brief grimace of pain on her face. She was favoring her left side.

She didn’t often tell him the details of her fights. She didn’t want to worry him. It didn’t help.

Elend pushed down his concern and forced himself to start reading again. He was almost finished – just a bit more and–

A knock came at his door.

Elend turned with frustration, wondering at this new interruption. Ham poked his head in the doorway a second later.

“Ham?” Elend said. “You’re still awake?”

“Unfortunately,” Ham said, stepping into the room.

“Mardra is going to kill you for working late again,” Elend said, setting down his pen. Complain though he might about some of Vin’s quirks, at least she shared Elend’s nocturnal habits.

Ham just rolled his eyes at the comment. He still wore his standard vest and trousers. He’d agreed to be the captain of Elend’s guard on a single condition: that he would never have to wear a uniform. Vin cracked an eye as Ham wandered into the room, then relaxed again.

“Regardless,” Elend said. “To what do I owe the visit?”

“I thought you might want to know that we identified those assassins who tried to kill Vin.”

Elend nodded. “Probably men I know.” Most Allomancers were noblemen, and he was familiar with all of those in Straff’s retinue.

“Actually, I doubt it,” Ham said. “They were Westerners.”

Elend paused, frowning, and Vin perked up. “You’re sure?”

Ham nodded. “Makes it a bit unlikely that your father sent them – unless he’s done some heavy recruiting in Fadrex City. They were of Houses Gardre and Conrad, mostly.”

Elend sat back. His father was based in Urteau, hereditary home of the Venture family. Fadrex was halfway across the empire from Urteau, several months’ worth of travel. The chances were slim that his father would have access to a group of Western Allomancers.

“Have you heard of Ashweather Cett?” Ham asked.

Elend nodded. “One of the men who’s set himself up as king in the Western Dominance. I don’t know much about him.”

Vin frowned, sitting. “You think he sent these?”

Ham nodded. “They must have been waiting for a chance to slip into the city, and the traffic at the gates these last few days would have provided the opportunity. That makes the arrival of Straff’s army and the attack on Vin’s life something of a coincidence.”

Elend glanced at Vin. She met his eyes, and he could tell that she wasn’t completely convinced that Straff hadn’t sent the assassins. Elend, however, wasn’t so skeptical. Pretty much every tyrant in the area had tried to take him out at one point or another. Why not Cett?

It’s that atium, Elend thought with frustration. He’d never found the Lord Ruler’s cache – but that didn’t stop the despots in the empire from assuming he was hiding it somewhere.

“Well, at least your father didn’t send the assassins,” Ham said, ever the optimist.

Elend shook his head. “Our relationship wouldn’t stop him, Ham. Trust me.”

“He’s your father,” Ham said, looking troubled.

“Things like that don’t matter to Straff. He probably hasn’t sent assassins because he doesn’t think I’m worth the trouble. If we last long enough, though, he will.”

Ham shook his head. “I’ve heard of sons killing their fathers to take their place… but fathers killing their sons… I wonder what that says about old Straff’s mind, that he’d be willing to kill you. You think that–”

“Ham?” Elend interrupted.

“Hum?”

“You know I’m usually good for a discussion, but I don’t really have time for philosophy right now.”

“Oh, right.” Ham smiled wanly, standing and moving to go. “I should get back to Mardra anyway.”

Elend nodded, rubbing his forehead and picking up his pen yet again. “Make sure you gather the crew for a meeting. We need to organize our allies, Ham. If we don’t come up with something incredibly clever, this kingdom may be doomed.”

Ham turned back, still smiling. “You make it sound so desperate, El.”

Elend looked over at him. “The Assembly is a mess, a half-dozen warlords with superior armies are breathing down my neck, barely a month passes without someone sending assassins to kill me, and the woman I love is slowly driving me insane.”

Vin snorted at this last part.

“Oh, is that all?” Ham said. “See? It’s not so bad after all. I mean, we could be facing an immortal god and his all-powerful priests instead.”

Elend paused, then chuckled despite himself. “Good night, Ham,” he said, turning back to his proposal.

“Good night, Your Majesty.”

4

THE BODY SHOWED NO OVERT wounds. It still lay where it had fallen – the other villagers had been afraid to move it. Its arms and legs were twisted in awkward positions, the dirt around it scuffed from predeath thrashings.

Sazed reached out, running his fingers along one of the marks. Though the soil here in the Eastern Dominance held far more clay than soil did in the north, it was still more black than it was brown. Ashfalls came even this far south. Ashless soil, washed clean and fertilized, was a luxury used only for the ornamental plants of noble gardens. The rest of the world had to do what it could with untreated soil.

“You say that he was alone when he died?” Sazed asked, turning to the small cluster of villagers standing behind him.

A leather-skinned man nodded. “Like I said, Master Terrisman. He was just standing there, no one else about. He paused, then he fell and wiggled on the ground for a bit. After that, he just… stopped moving.”

Sazed turned back to the corpse, studying the twisted muscles, the face locked in a mask of pain. Sazed had brought his medical coppermind – the metal armband wrapped around his upper right arm – and he reached into it with his mind, pulling out some of the memorized books he had stored therein. Yes, there were some diseases that killed with shakes and spasms. They rarely took a man so suddenly, but it sometimes happened. If it hadn’t been for other circumstances, Sazed would have paid the death little heed.

“Please, repeat to me again what you saw,” Sazed asked.

The leather-skinned man at the front of the group, Teur, paled slightly. He was in an odd position – his natural desire for notoriety would make him want to gossip about his experience. However, doing so could earn the distrust of his superstitious fellows.

“I was just passing by, Master Terrisman,” Teur said. “On the path twenty yards yon. I seen old Jed working his field – a hard worker, he was. Some of us took a break when the lords left, but old Jed just kept on. Guess he knew we’d be needing food for the winter, lords or no lords.”

Teur paused, then glanced to the side. “I know what people say, Master Terrisman, but I seen what I seen. It was day when I passed, but there was mist in the valley here. It stopped me, because I’ve never been out in the mist – my wife’ll vouch me that. I was going to turn back, and then I seen old Jed. He was just working away, as if he hadn’t seen the mist.

“I was going to call out to him, but before I could, he just… well, like I told you. I seen him standing there, then he froze. The mist swirled about him a bit, then he began to jerk and twist, like something really strong was holding him and shaking him. He fell. Didn’t get up after that.”

Still kneeling, Sazed looked back at the corpse. Teur apparently had a reputation for tall tales. Yet, the body was a chilling corroboration – not to mention Sazed’s own experience several weeks before.

Mist during the day.

Sazed stood, turning toward the villagers. “Please fetch for me a shovel.”

Nobody helped him dig the grave. It was slow, muggy work in the southern heat, which was strong despite the advent of autumn. The clay earth was difficult to move – but, fortunately, Sazed had a bit of extra stored-up strength inside a pewtermind, and he tapped it for help.

He needed it, for he wasn’t what one would call an athletic man. Tall and long-limbed, he had the build of a scholar, and still wore the colorful robes of a Terris steward. He also still kept his head shaved, after the manner of the station he had served in for the first forty-some years of his life. He didn’t wear much of his jewelry now – he didn’t want to tempt highway bandits – but his earlobes were stretched out and pierced with numerous holes for earrings.

Tapping strength from his pewtermind enlarged his muscles slightly, giving him the build of a stronger man. Even with the extra strength, however, his steward’s robes were stained with sweat and dirt by the time he finished digging. He rolled the body into the grave, and stood quietly for a moment. The man had been a dedicated farmer.

Sazed searched through his religions coppermind for an appropriate theology. He started with an index – one of the many that he had created. When he had located an appropriate religion, he pulled free detailed memories about its practices. The writings entered his mind as fresh as when he had just finished memorizing them. They would fade, with time, like all memories – however, he intended to place them back in the coppermind long before that happened. It was the way of the Keeper, the method by which his people retained enormous wealths of information.

This day, the memories he selected were of HaDah, a southern religion with an agricultural deity. Like most religions – which had been oppressed during the time of the Lord Ruler – the HaDah faith was a thousand years extinct.

Following the dictates of the HaDah funeral ceremony, Sazed walked over to a nearby tree – or, at least, one of the shrublike plants that passed for trees in this area. He broke off a long branch – the peasants watching him curiously – and carried it back to the grave. He stooped down and drove it into the dirt at the bottom of the hole, just beside the corpse’s head. Then he stood and began to shovel dirt back into the grave.

The peasants watched him with dull eyes. So depressed, Sazed thought. The Eastern Dominance was the most chaotic and unsettled of the five Inner Dominances. The only men in this crowd were well past their prime. The press gangs had done their work efficiently; the husbands and fathers of this village were likely dead on some battlefield that no longer mattered.

It was hard to believe that anything could actually be worse than the Lord Ruler’s oppression. Sazed told himself that these people’s pain would pass, that they would someday know prosperity because of what he and the others had done. Yet, he had seen farmers forced to slaughter each other, had seen children starve because some despot had “requisitioned” a village’s entire food supply. He had seen thieves kill freely because the Lord Ruler’s troops no longer patrolled the canals. He had seen chaos, death, hatred, and disorder. And he couldn’t help but acknowledge that he was partially to blame.

He continued to refill the hole. He had been trained as a scholar and a domestic attendant; he was a Terrisman steward, the most useful, most expensive, and most prestigious of servants in the Final Empire. That meant almost nothing now. He’d never dug a grave, but he did his best, trying to be reverent as he piled dirt on the corpse. Surprisingly, about halfway through the process, the peasants began to help him, pushing dirt from the pile into the hole.

Perhaps there is hope for these yet, Sazed thought, thankfully letting one of the others take his shovel and finish the work. When they were done, the very tip of the HaDah branch breached the dirt at the head of the grave.

“Why’d you do that?” Teur asked, nodding to the branch.

Sazed smiled. “It is a religious ceremony, Goodman Teur. If you please, there is a prayer that should accompany it.”

“A prayer? Something from the Steel Ministry?”

Sazed shook his head. “No, my friend. It is a prayer from a previous time, a time before the Lord Ruler.”

The peasants eyed each other, frowning. Teur just rubbed his wrinkled chin. They all remained quiet, however, as Sazed said a short HaDah prayer. When he finished, he turned toward the peasants. “It was known as the religion of HaDah. Some of your ancestors might have followed it, I think. If any of you wish, I can teach you of its precepts.”

The assembled crowd stood quietly. There weren’t many of them – two dozen or so, mostly middle-aged women and a few older men. There was a single young man with a club leg; Sazed was surprised that he’d lived so long on a plantation. Most lords killed invalids to keep them from draining resources.

“When is the Lord Ruler coming back?” asked a woman.

“I do not believe that he will,” Sazed said.

“Why did he abandon us?”

“It is a time of change,” Sazed said. “Perhaps it is also time to learn of other truths, other ways.”

The group of people shuffled quietly. Sazed sighed quietly; these people associated faith with the Steel Ministry and its obligators. Religion wasn’t something that skaa worried about – save, perhaps, to avoid it when possible.

The Keepers spent a thousand years gathering and memorizing the dying religions of the world, Sazed thought. Who would have thought that now – with the Lord Ruler gone – people wouldn’t care enough to want what they’d lost?

Yet, he found it hard to think ill of these people. They were struggling to survive, their already harsh world suddenly made unpredictable. They were tired. Was it any wonder that talk of beliefs long forgotten failed to interest them?

“Come,” Sazed said, turning toward the village. “There are other things – more practical things – that I can teach you.”

5

VIN COULD SEE SIGNS OF anxiety reflected in the city. Workers milled anxiously and markets bustled with an edge of concern – showing that same apprehension that one might see in a cornered rodent. Frightened, but not sure what to do. Doomed with nowhere to run.

Many had left the city during the last year – noblemen fleeing, merchants seeking some other place of business. Yet, at the same time, the city had swelled with an influx of skaa. They had somehow heard of Elend’s proclamation of freedom, and had come with optimism – or, at least, as much optimism as an overworked, underfed, repeatedly beaten populace could manage.

And so, despite predictions that Luthadel would soon fall, despite whispers that its army was small and weak, the people had stayed. Worked. Lived. Just as they always had. The life of a skaa had never been very certain.

It was still strange for Vin to see the market so busy. She walked down Kenton Street, wearing her customary trousers and buttoned shirt, thinking about the time when she’d visited the street during the days before the Collapse. It had been the quiet home of some exclusive tailoring shops.

When Elend had abolished the restrictions on skaa merchants, Kenton Street had changed. The thoroughfare had blossomed into a wild bazaar of shops, pushcarts, and tents. In order to target the newly empowered – and newly waged – skaa workers, the shop owners had altered their selling methods. Where once they had coaxed with rich window displays, they now called and demanded, using criers, salesmen, and even jugglers to try to attract trade.

The street was so busy that Vin usually avoided it, and this day was even worse than most. The arrival of the army had sparked a last-minute flurry of buying and selling, the people trying to get ready for whatever was to come. There was a grim tone to the atmosphere. Fewer street performers, more yelling. Elend had ordered all eight city gates barred, so flight was no longer an option. Vin wondered how many of the people regretted their decision to stay.

She walked down the street with a businesslike step, hands clasped to keep the nervousness out of her posture. Even as a child – an urchin on the streets of a dozen different cities – she hadn’t liked crowds. It was hard to keep track of so many people, hard to focus with so much going on. As a child, she’d stayed near the edges of crowds, hiding, venturing out to snatch the occasional fallen coin or ignored bit of food.

She was different now. She forced herself to walk with a straight back, and kept her eyes from glancing down or looking for places to hide. She was getting so much better – but seeing the crowds reminded her of what she had once been. What she would always – at least in part – still be.

As if in response to her thoughts, a pair of street urchins scampered through the throng, a large man in a baker’s apron screaming at them. There were still urchins in Elend’s new world. In fact, as she considered it, paying the skaa population probably made for a far better street life for urchins. There were more pockets to pick, more people to distract the shop owners, more scraps to go around, and more hands to feed beggars.

It was difficult to reconcile her childhood with such a life. To her, a child on the street was someone who learned to be quiet and hide, someone who went out at night to search through garbage. Only the most brave of urchins had dared cut purses; skaa lives had been worthless to many noblemen. During her childhood, Vin had known several urchins who been killed or maimed by passing noblemen who found them offensive.

Elend’s laws might not have eliminated the poor, something he so much wanted to do, but he had improved the lives of even the street urchins. For that – among other things – she loved him.

There were still some noblemen in the crowd, men who had been persuaded by Elend or circumstances that their fortunes would be safer in the city than without. They were desperate, weak, or adventuresome. Vin watched one man pass, surrounded by a group of guards. He didn’t give her a second glance; to him, her simple clothing was reason enough to ignore her. No noblewoman would dress as she did.

Is that what I am? she wondered, pausing beside a shop window, looking over the books inside – the sale of which had always been a small, but profitable, market for the idle imperial nobility. She also used the glass reflection to make certain no one snuck up behind her. Am I a noblewoman?

It could be argued that she was noble simply by association. The king himself loved her – had asked her to marry him – and she had been trained by the Survivor of Hathsin. Indeed, her father had been noble, even if her mother had been skaa. Vin reached up, fingering the simple bronze earring that was the only thing she had as a memento of Mother.

It wasn’t much. But, then, Vin wasn’t sure she wanted to think about her mother all that much. The woman had, after all, tried to kill Vin. In fact, she had killed Vin’s full sister. Only the actions of Reen, Vin’s half brother, had saved her. He had pulled Vin, bloody, from the arms of a woman who had shoved the earring into Vin’s ear just moments before.

And still Vin kept it. As a reminder, of sorts. The truth was, she didn’t feel like a noblewoman. At times, she thought she had more in common with her insane mother than she did with the aristocracy of Elend’s world. The balls and parties she had attended before the Collapse – they had been a charade. A dreamlike memory. They had no place in this world of collapsing governments and nightly assassinations. Plus, Vin’s part in the balls – pretending to be the girl Valette Renoux – had always been a sham.

She pretended still. Pretended not to be the girl who had grown up starving on the streets, a girl who had been beaten far more often than she had been befriended. Vin sighed, turning from the window. The next shop, however, drew her attention despite herself.

It contained ball gowns.

The shop was empty of patrons; few thought of gowns on the eve of an invasion. Vin paused before the open doorway, held almost as if she were metal being Pulled. Inside, dressing dummies stood posed in majestic gowns. Vin looked up at the garments, with their tight waists and tapering, bell-like skirts. She could almost imagine she was at a ball, soft music in the background, tables draped in perfect white, Elend standing up on his balcony, leafing through a book…

She almost went in. But why bother? The city was about to be attacked. Besides, the garments were expensive. It had been different when she’d spent Kelsier’s money. Now she spent Elend’s money – and Elend’s money was the kingdom’s money.

She turned from the gowns and walked back out onto the street. Those aren’t me anymore. Valette is useless to Elend – he needs a Mistborn, not an uncomfortable girl in a gown that she doesn’t quite fill. Her wounds from the night before, now firm bruises, were a reminder of her place. They were healing well – she’d been burning pewter heavily all day – but she’d be stiff for a while yet.

Vin quickened her pace, heading for the livestock pens. As she walked, however, she caught sight of someone tailing her.

Well, perhaps “tailing” was too generous a word – the man certainly wasn’t doing a very good job of going unnoticed. He was balding on top, but wore the sides of his hair long. He wore a simple skaa’s smock: a single-piece tan garment that was stained dark with ash.

Great, Vin thought. There was another reason she avoided the market – or any place where crowds of skaa gathered.

She sped up again, but the man hurried as well. Soon, his awkward movements gained attention – but, instead of cursing him, most people paused reverently. Soon others joined him, and Vin had a small crowd trailing her.

A part of her wanted to just slap down a coin and shoot away. Yes, Vin thought to herself wryly, use Allomancy in the daylight. That’ll make you inconspicuous.

So, sighing, she turned to confront the group. None of them looked particularly threatening. The men wore trousers and dull shirts; the women wore one-piece, utilitarian dresses. Several more men wore single-piece, ash-covered smocks.

Priests of the Survivor.

“Lady Heir,” one of them said, approaching and falling to his knees.

“Don’t call me that,” Vin said quietly.

The priest looked up at her. “Please. We need direction. We have cast off the Lord Ruler. What do we do now?”

Vin took a step backward. Had Kelsier understood what he was doing? He had built up the skaa’s faith in him, then had died a martyr to turn them in rage against the Final Empire. What had he thought would happen after that? Could he have foreseen the Church of the Survivor – had he known that they would replace the Lord Ruler with Kelsier himself as God?

The problem was, Kelsier had left his followers with no doctrine. His only goal had been to defeat the Lord Ruler; partially to get his revenge, partially to seal his legacy, and partially – Vin hoped – because he had wanted to free the skaa.

But now what? These people must feel as she did. Set adrift, with no light to guide them.

Vin could not be that light. “I’m not Kelsier,” she said quietly, taking another step backward.

“We know,” one of the men said. “You’re his heir – he passed on, and this time you Survived.”

“Please,” a woman said, stepping forward, holding a young child in her arms. “Lady Heir. If the hand that struck down the Lord Ruler could touch my child…”

Vin tried to back away farther, but realized she was up against another crowd of people. The woman stepped closer, and Vin finally raised an uncertain hand to the baby’s forehead.

“Thank you,” the woman said.

“You’ll protect us, won’t you, Lady Heir?” asked a young man – no older than Elend – with a dirty face but honest eyes. “The priests say that you’ll stop that army out there, that its soldiers won’t be able to enter the city while you’re here.”

That was too much for her. Vin mumbled a halfhearted response, but turned and pushed her way through the crowd. The group of believers didn’t follow her, fortunately.

She was breathing deeply, though not from exertion, by the time she slowed. She moved into an alley between two shops, standing in the shade, wrapping her arms around herself. She had spent her life learning to remain unnoticed, to be quiet and unimportant. Now she could be none of those things.

What did the people expect of her? Did they really think that she could stop an army by herself? That was one lesson she’d learned very early into her training: Mistborn weren’t invincible. One man, she could kill. Ten men could give her trouble. An army…

Vin held herself and took a few calming breaths. Eventually, she moved back out onto the busy street. She was near her destination now – a small, open-sided tent surrounded by four pens. The merchant lounged by it, a scruffy man who had hair on only half of his head – the right half. Vin stood for a moment, trying to decide if the odd hairstyle was due to disease, injury, or preference.

The man perked up when he saw her standing at the edge of his pens. He brushed himself off, throwing up a small amount of dust. Then he sauntered up to her, smiling with what teeth he still had, acting as if he hadn’t heard – or didn’t care – that there was an army just outside.

“Ah, young lady,” he said. “Lookin’ for a pup? I’ve got some wee scamps that any girl is sure to love. Here, let me grab one. You’ll agree it’s the cutest thing you ever seen.”

Vin folded her arms as the man reached down to grab a puppy from one of the pens. “Actually,” she said, “I was looking for a wolfhound.”

The merchant looked up. “Wolfhound, miss? ‘Tis no pet for a girl like yourself. Mean brutes, those. Let me find you a nice bobbie. Nice dogs, those – smart, too.”

“No,” Vin said, drawing him up short. “You will bring me a wolfhound.”

The man paused again, looking at her, scratching himself in several undignified places. “Well, I guess I can see…”

He wandered toward the pen farthest from the street. Vin waited quietly, nose downturned at the smell as the merchant yelled at a few of his animals, selecting an appropriate one. Eventually, he pulled a leashed dog up to Vin. It was a wolfhound, if a small one – but it had sweet, docile eyes, and an obviously pleasant temperament.

“The runt of the litter,” the merchant said. “A good animal for a young girl, I’d say. Will probably make an excellent hunter, too. These wolfhounds, they can smell better than any beast you seen.”

Vin reached for her coin purse, but paused, looking down at the dog’s panting face. It almost seemed to be smiling at her.

“Oh, for the Lord Ruler’s sake,” she snapped, pushing past the dog and master, stalking toward the back pens.

“Young lady?” the merchant asked, following uncertainly.

Vin scanned the wolfhounds. Near the back, she spotted a massive black and gray beast. It was chained to a post, and it regarded her defiantly, a low growl rising in its throat.

Vin pointed. “How much for that one in the back?”

“That?” the merchant asked. “Good lady, that’s a watchbeast. It’s meant to be set loose on a lord’s grounds to attack anyone who enters! It’s the one of the meanest things you’ll ever see!”

“Perfect,” Vin said, pulling out some coins.

“Good lady, I couldn’t possibly sell you that beast. Not possibly at all. Why, I’ll bet it weighs half again as much as you do.”

Vin nodded, then pulled open the pen gate and strode in. The merchant cried out, but Vin walked right up to the wolfhound. He began to bark wildly at her, frothing.

Sorry about this, Vin thought. Then, burning pewter, she ducked in and slammed her fist into the animal’s head.

The animal froze, wobbled, then fell unconscious in the dirt. The merchant stopped up short beside her, mouth open.

“Leash,” Vin ordered.

He gave her one. She used it to tie the wolfhound’s feet together, and then – with a flare of pewter – she threw the animal over her shoulders. She cringed only slightly at the pain in her side.

This thing better not get drool on my shirt, she thought, handing the merchant some coins and walking back toward the palace.

Vin slammed the unconscious wolfhound to the floor. The guards had given her some strange looks as she entered the palace, but she was getting used to those. She brushed off her hands.

“What is that?” OreSeur asked. He’d made it back to her rooms at the palace, but his current body was obviously unusable. He’d needed to form muscles in places that men didn’t normally have them to even keep the skeleton together, and while he’d healed his wounds, his body looked unnatural. He still wore the bloodstained clothing from the night before.

“This,” Vin said, pointing at the wolfhound, “is your new body.”

OreSeur paused. “That? Mistress, that is a dog.”

“Yes,” Vin said.

“I am a man.”

“You’re a kandra,” Vin said. “You can imitate flesh and muscle. What about fur?”

The kandra did not look pleased. “I cannot imitate it,” he said, “but I can use the beast’s own fur, like I use its bones. However, surely there is–”

“I’m not going to kill for you, kandra,” Vin said. “And even if I did kill someone, I wouldn’t let you… eat them. Plus, this will be more inconspicuous. People will begin to talk if I keep replacing my stewards with unknown men. I’ve been telling people for months that I was thinking of dismissing you. Well, I’ll tell them that I finally did – nobody will think to realize that my new pet hound is actually my kandra.”

She turned, nodding toward the carcass. “This will be very useful. People pay less attention to hounds than they do to humans, and so you’ll be able to listen in on conversations.”

OreSeur’s frown deepened. “I will not do this thing easily. You will need to compel me, by virtue of the Contract.”

“Fine,” Vin said. “You’re commanded. How long will it take?”

“A regular body only takes a few hours,” OreSeur said. “This could take longer. Getting that much fur to look right will be challenging.”

“Get started, then,” Vin said, turning toward the door. On her way, however, she noticed a small package sitting on her desk. She frowned, walking over and taking off the lid. A small note sat inside.

Lady Vin,

Here is the next alloy you requested. Aluminum is very difficult to acquire, but when a noble family recently left the city, I was able to buy some of their diningware.

I do not know if this one will work, but I believe it worth a try. I have mixed the aluminum with four percent copper, and found the outcome quite promising. I have read of this composition; it is called duralumin.

Your servant, Terion

Vin smiled, setting aside the note and removing the rest of the box’s contents: a small pouch of metal dust and a thin silvery bar, both presumably of this “duralumin” metal. Terion was a master Allomantic metallurgist. Though not an Allomancer himself, he had been mixing alloys and creating dusts for Mistborn and Mistings for most of his life.

Vin pocketed both pouch and bar, then turned toward OreSeur. The kandra regarded her with a flat expression.

“This came for me today?” Vin asked, nodding to the box.

“Yes, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “A few hours ago.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m sorry, Mistress,” OreSeur said in his toneless way, “but you did not command me to tell you if packages arrived.”

Vin ground her teeth. He knew how anxiously she’d been waiting for another alloy from Terion. All of the previous aluminum alloys they’d tried had turned out to be duds. It bothered her to know that there was another Allomantic metal out there somewhere, waiting to be discovered. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she found it.

OreSeur just sat where he was, bland expression on his face, unconscious wolfhound on the floor in front of him.

“Just get to work on that body,” Vin said, spinning and leaving the room to search for Elend.

Vin finally found Elend in his study, going over some ledgers with a familiar figure.

“Dox!” Vin said. He’d retired to his rooms soon after his arrival the day before, and she hadn’t seen much of him.

Dockson looked up and smiled. Stocky without being fat, he had short dark hair and still wore his customary half beard. “Hello, Vin.”

“How was Terris?” she asked.

“Cold,” Dockson replied. “I’m glad to be back. Though I wish I hadn’t arrived to find that army here.”

“Either way, we’re glad you’ve returned, Dockson,” Elend said. “The kingdom practically fell apart without you.”

“That hardly seems the case,” Dockson said, closing his ledger and setting it on the stack. “All things – and armies – considered, it looks like the royal bureaucracy held together fairly well in my absence. You hardly need me anymore!”

“Nonsense!” Elend said.

Vin leaned against the door, eyeing the two men as they continued their discussion. They maintained their air of forced joviality. Both were dedicated to making the new kingdom work, even if it meant pretending that they liked each other. Dockson pointed at places in the ledgers, talking about finances and what he’d discovered in the outlying villages under Elend’s control.

Vin sighed, glancing across the room. Sunlight streamed through the room’s stained-glass rose window, throwing colors across the ledgers and table. Even now, Vin still wasn’t accustomed to the casual richness of a noble keep. The window – red and lavender – was a thing of intricate beauty. Yet, noblemen apparently found its like so commonplace that they had put this one in the keep’s back rooms, in the small chamber that Elend now used as his study.

As one might expect, the room was piled with stacks of books. Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, but they were no match for the sheer volume of Elend’s growing collection. She’d never cared much for Elend’s taste in books. They were mostly political or historical works, things with topics as musty as their aged pages. Many of them had once been forbidden by the Steel Ministry, but somehow the old philosophers could make even salacious topics seem boring.

“Anyway,” Dockson said, finally closing his ledgers. “I have some things to do before your speech tomorrow, Your Majesty. Did Ham say there’s a city defense meeting that evening as well?”

Elend nodded. “Assuming I can get the Assembly to agree not to hand the city over to my father, we’ll need to come up with a strategy to deal with this army. I’ll send someone for you tomorrow night.”

“Good,” Dockson said. With that, he nodded to Elend, winked at Vin, then made his way from the cluttered room.

As Dockson shut the door, Elend sighed, then relaxed back in his oversized plush chair.

Vin walked forward. “He really is a good man, Elend.”

“Oh, I realize he is. Being a good man doesn’t always make one likable, however.”

“He’s nice, too,” Vin said. “Sturdy, calm, stable. The crew relied on him.” Even though Dockson wasn’t an Allomancer, he had been Kelsier’s right-hand man.

“He doesn’t like me, Vin,” Elend said. “It’s… very hard to get along with someone who looks at me like that.”

“You’re not giving him a fair chance,” Vin complained, stopping beside Elend’s chair.

He looked up at her, smiling wanly, his vest unbuttoned, his hair an absolute mess. “Hum…” he said idly, taking her hand. “I really like that shirt. Red looks good on you.”

Vin rolled her eyes, letting him gently pull her into the chair and kiss her. There was a passion to the kiss – a need, perhaps, for something stable. Vin responded, feeling herself relax as she pulled up against him. A few minutes later, she sighed, feeling much better snuggled into the chair beside him. He pulled her close, leaning the chair back into the window’s sunlight.

He smiled and glanced at her. “That’s a… new perfume you’re wearing.”

Vin snorted, putting her head against his chest. “It’s not perfume, Elend. It’s dog.”

“Ah, good,” Elend said. “I was worried that you’d departed from your senses. Now, is there any particular reason why you smell like dog?”

“I went to the market and bought one, then carried it back and fed it to OreSeur, so it can be his new body.”

Elend paused. “Why, Vin. That’s brilliant! Nobody will suspect a dog to be a spy. I wonder if anyone’s ever thought of that before…”

“Someone must have,” Vin said. “I mean, it makes such sense. I suspect those who thought of it, however, didn’t share the knowledge.”

“Good point,” Elend said, relaxing back. Yet, from as close as they were, she could still feel a tension in him.

Tomorrow’s speech, Vin thought. He’s worried about it.

“I must say, however,” Elend said idly, “that I find it a bit disappointing that you’re not wearing dog-scented perfume. With your social station, I could see some of the local noblewomen trying to imitate you. That could be amusing indeed.”

She leaned up, looking at his smirking face. “You know, Elend – sometimes it’s bloody difficult to tell when you’re teasing, and when you’re just being dense.”

“That makes me more mysterious, right?”

“Something like that,” she said, snuggling up against him again.

“Now, see, you don’t understand how clever that is of me,” he said. “If people can’t tell when I’m being an idiot and when I’m being a genius, perhaps they’ll assume my blunders are brilliant political maneuverings.”

“As long as they don’t mistake your actual brilliant moves for blunders.”

“That shouldn’t be difficult,” Elend said. “I fear I have few enough of those for people to mistake.”

Vin looked up with concern at the edge in his voice. He, however, smiled, shifting the topic. “So, OreSeur the dog. Will he still be able to go out with you at nights?”

Vin shrugged. “I guess. I wasn’t really planning on bringing him for a while.”

“I’d like it if you did take him,” Elend said. “I worry about you out there, every night, pushing yourself so hard.”

“I can handle it,” Vin said. “Someone needs to watch over you.”

“Yes,” Elend said, “but who watches over you?”

Kelsier. Even now, that was still her immediate reaction. She’d known him for less than a year, but that year had been the first in her life that she had felt protected.

Kelsier was dead. She, like the rest of the world, had to live without him.

“I know you were hurt when you fought those Allomancers the other night,” Elend said. “It would be really nice for my psyche if I knew someone was with you.”

“A kandra’s no bodyguard,” Vin said.

“I know,” Elend said. “But they’re incredibly loyal – I’ve never heard of one breaking Contract. He’ll watch out for you. I worry about you, Vin. You wonder why I stay up so late, scribbling at my proposals? I can’t sleep, knowing that you might be out there fighting – or, worse, lying somewhere in a street, dying because nobody was there to help you.”

“I take OreSeur with me sometimes.”

“Yes,” Elend said, “but I know you find excuses to leave him behind. Kelsier bought you the services of an incredibly valuable servant. I can’t understand why you work so hard to avoid him.”

Vin closed her eyes. “Elend. He ate Kelsier.”

“So?” Elend asked. “Kelsier was already dead. Besides, he himself gave that order.”

Vin sighed, opening her eyes. “I just… don’t trust that thing, Elend. The creature is unnatural.”

“I know,” Elend said. “My father always kept a kandra. But, OreSeur is something, at least. Please. Promise me you’ll take him with you.”

“All right. But I don’t think he’s going to like the arrangement much either. He and I didn’t get along very well even when he was playing Renoux, and I his niece.”

Elend shrugged. “He’ll hold to his Contract. That’s what is important.”

“He holds to the Contract,” Vin said, “but only grudgingly. I swear that he enjoys frustrating me.”

Elend looked down at her. “Vin, kandra are excellent servants. They don’t do things like that.”

“No, Elend,” Vin said. “Sazed was an excellent servant. He enjoyed being with people, helping them. I never felt that he resented me. OreSeur may do everything I command, but he doesn’t like me; he never has. I can tell.”

Elend sighed, rubbing her shoulder. “Don’t you think you might be a little irrational? There’s no real reason to hate him so.”

“Oh?” Vin asked. “Just like there’s no reason you shouldn’t get along with Dockson?”

Elend paused. Then he sighed. “I guess you have a point,” he said. He continued to rub Vin’s shoulder as he stared upward, toward the ceiling, contemplative.

“What?” Vin asked.

“I’m not doing a very good job of this, am I?”

“Don’t be foolish,” Vin said. “You’re a wonderful king.”

“I might be a passable king, Vin, but I’m not him.”

“Who?”

“Kelsier,” Elend said quietly.

“Elend, nobody expects you to be Kelsier.”

“Oh?” he said. “That’s why Dockson doesn’t like me. He hates noblemen; it’s obvious in the way that he talks, the way he acts. I don’t know if I really blame him, considering the life he’s known. Regardless, he doesn’t think I should be king. He thinks that a skaa should be in my place – or, even better, Kelsier. They all think that.”

“That’s nonsense, Elend.”

“Really? And if Kelsier still lived, would I be king?”

Vin paused.

“You see? They accept me – the people, the merchants, even the noblemen. But in the back of their minds, they wish they had Kelsier instead.”

“I don’t wish that.”

“Don’t you?”

Vin frowned. Then she sat up, turning so that she was kneeling over Elend in the reclined chair, their faces just inches apart. “Don’t you ever wonder that, Elend. Kelsier was my teacher, but I didn’t love him. Not like I love you.”

Elend stared into her eyes, then nodded. Vin kissed him deeply, then snuggled down beside him again.

“Why not?” Elend eventually asked.

“Well, he was old, for one thing.”

Elend chuckled. “I seem to recall you making fun of my age as well.”

“That’s different,” Vin said. “You’re only a few years older than me – Kelsier was ancient.”

“Vin, thirty-eight is not ancient.”

“Close enough.”

Elend chuckled again, but she could tell that he wasn’t satisfied. Why had she chosen Elend, rather than Kelsier? Kelsier had been the visionary, the hero, the Mistborn.

“Kelsier was a great man,” Vin said quietly as Elend began to stroke her hair. “But… there were things about him, Elend. Frightening things. He was intense, reckless, even a little bit cruel. Unforgiving. He’d slaughter people without guilt or concern, just because they upheld the Final Empire or worked for the Lord Ruler.

“I could love him as a teacher and a friend. But I don’t think I could ever love – not really love – a man like that. I don’t blame him; he was of the streets, like me. When you struggle so hard for life, you grow strong – but you can grow harsh, too. His fault or not, Kelsier reminded me too much of men I… knew when I was younger. Kell was a far better person than they – he really could be kind, and he did sacrifice his life for the skaa. However, he was just so hard.”

She closed her eyes, feeling Elend’s warmth. “You, Elend Venture, are a good man. A truly good man.”

“Good men don’t become legends,” he said quietly.

“Good men don’t need to become legends.” She opened her eyes, looking up at him. “They just do what’s right anyway.”

Elend smiled. Then he kissed the top of her head and leaned back. They lay there for a time, in a room warm with sunlight, relaxing.

“He saved my life, once,” Elend finally said.

“Who?” Vin asked with surprise. “Kelsier?”

Elend nodded. “That day after Spook and OreSeur were captured, the day Kelsier died. There was a battle in the square when Ham and some soldiers tried to free the captives.”

“I was there,” Vin said. “Hiding with Breeze and Dox in one of the alleyways.”

“Really?” Elend said, sounding a bit amused. “Because I came looking for you. I thought that they’d arrested you, along with OreSeur – he was pretending to be your uncle, then. I tried to get to the cages to rescue you.”

“You did what? Elend, it was a battlefield in that square! There was an Inquisitor there, for the Lord Ruler’s sake!”

“I know,” Elend said, smiling faintly. “See, that Inquisitor is the one who tried to kill me. It had its axe raised and everything. And then… Kelsier was there. He smashed into the Inquisitor, throwing it to the ground.”

“Probably just a coincidence,” Vin said.

“No,” Elend said softly. “He meant it, Vin. He looked at me while he struggled with the Inquisitor, and I saw it in his eyes. I’ve always wondered about that moment; everyone tells me that Kelsier hated the nobility even more than Dox does.”

Vin paused. “He… started to change a little at the end, I think.”

“Change enough that he’d risk himself to protect a random nobleman?”

“He knew that I loved you,” Vin said, smiling faintly. “I guess, in the end, that proved stronger than his hatred.”

“I didn’t realize…” He trailed off as Vin turned, hearing something. Footsteps approaching. She sat up, and a second later, Ham poked his head into the room. He paused when he saw Vin sitting in Elend’s lap, however.

“Oh,” Ham said. “Sorry.”

“No, wait,” Vin said. Ham poked his head back in, and Vin turned to Elend. “I almost forgot why I came looking for you in the first place. I got a new package from Terion today.”

“Another one?” Elend asked. “Vin, when are you going to give this up?”

“I can’t afford to,” she said.

“It can’t be all that important, can it?” he asked. “I mean, if everybody’s forgotten what that last metal does, then it must not be very powerful.”

“Either that,” Vin said, “or it was so amazingly powerful that the Ministry worked very hard to keep it a secret.” She slid off of the chair to stand up, then took the pouch and thin bar out of her pocket. She handed the bar to Elend, who sat up in his plush chair.

Silvery and reflective, the metal – like the aluminum from which it was made – felt too light to be real. Any Allomancer who accidentally burned aluminum had their other metal reserves stripped away from them, leaving them powerless. Aluminum had been kept secret by the Steel Ministry; Vin had only found out about it on the night when she’d been captured by the Inquisitors, the same night she’d killed the Lord Ruler.

They had never been able to figure out the proper Allomantic alloy of aluminum. Allomantic metals always came in pairs – iron and steel, tin and pewter, copper and bronze, zinc and brass. Aluminum and… something. Something powerful, hopefully. Her atium was gone. She needed an edge.

Elend sighed, handing back the bar. “The last time you tried to burn one of those it left you sick for two days, Vin. I was terrified.”

“It can’t kill me,” Vin said. “Kelsier promised that burning a bad alloy would only make me sick.”

Elend shook his head. “Even Kelsier was wrong on occasion, Vin. Didn’t you say that he misunderstood how bronze worked?”

Vin paused. Elend’s concern was so genuine that she felt herself being persuaded. However…

When that army attacks, Elend is going to die. The city’s skaa might survive – no ruler would be foolish enough to slaughter the people of such a productive city. The king, however, would be killed. She couldn’t fight off an entire army, and she could do little to help with preparations.

She did know Allomancy, however. The better she got at it, the better she’d be able to protect the man she loved.

“I have to try it, Elend,” she said quietly. “Clubs says that Straff won’t attack for a few days – he’ll need that long to rest his men from the march and scout the city for attack. That means I can’t wait. If this metal does make me sick, I’ll be better in time to help fight – but only if I try it now.”

Elend’s face grew grim, but he did not forbid her. He had learned better than that. Instead, he stood. “Ham, you think this is a good idea?”

Ham nodded. He was a warrior; to him, her gamble would make sense. She’d asked him to stay because she’d need someone to carry her back to her bed, should this go wrong.

“All right,” Elend said, turning back to Vin, looking resigned.

Vin climbed into the chair, sat back, then took a pinch of the duralumin dust and swallowed it. She closed her eyes, and felt at her Allomantic reserves. The common eight were all there, well stocked. She didn’t have any atium or gold, nor did she have either of their alloys. Even if she’d had atium, it was too precious to use except in an emergency – and the other three had only marginal usefulness.

A new reserve appeared. Just as one had the four times before. Each time she’d burned an aluminum alloy, she’d immediately felt a blinding headache. You’d think I’d have learned… she thought. Gritting her teeth, she reached inside and burned the new alloy.

Nothing happened.

“Have you tried it yet?” Elend asked apprehensively.

Vin nodded slowly. “No headache. But… I’m not sure if the alloy is doing anything or not.”

“But it’s burning?” Ham asked.

Vin nodded. She felt the familiar warmth from within, the tiny fire that told her that a metal was burning. She tried moving about a bit, but couldn’t distinguish any change to her physical self. Finally she just looked up and shrugged.

Ham frowned. “If it didn’t make you sick, then you’ve found the right alloy. Each metal only has one valid alloy.”

“Or,” Vin said, “that’s what we’ve always been told.”

Ham nodded. “What alloy was this?”

“Aluminum and copper,” Vin said.

“Interesting,” Ham said. “You don’t feel anything at all?”

Vin shook her head.

“You’ll have to practice some more.”

“Looks like I’m lucky,” Vin said, extinguishing the duralumin. “Terion came up with forty different alloys he thought we could try, once we had enough aluminum. This was only the fifth.”

“Forty?” Elend asked incredulously. “I wasn’t aware that there were so many metals you could make an alloy from!”

“You don’t have to have two metals to make an alloy,” Vin said absently. “Just one metal and something else. Look at steel – it’s iron and carbon.”

“Forty…” Elend repeated. “And you would have tried them all?”

Vin shrugged. “Seemed like a good place to start.”

Elend looked concerned at that thought, but didn’t say anything further. Instead, he turned to Ham. “Anyway, Ham, was there something you wanted to see us about?”

“Nothing important,” Ham said. “I just wanted to see if Vin was up for some sparring. That army has me feeling antsy, and I figure Vin could still use some practice with the staff.”

Vin shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

“You want to come, El?” Ham asked. “Get in some practice?”

Elend laughed. “And face one of you two? I’ve got my royal dignity to think of!”

Vin frowned slightly, looking up at him. “You really should practice more, Elend. You barely know how to hold a sword, and you’re terrible with a dueling cane.”

“Now, see, why would I worry about that when I have you to protect me?”

Vin’s concern deepened. “We can’t always be around you, Elend. I’d worry a lot less if you were better at defending yourself.”

He just smiled and pulled her to her feet. “I’ll get to it eventually, I promise. But, not today – I’ve got too much to think about right now. How about if I just come watch you two? Perhaps I’ll pick up something by observation – which is, by the way, the preferable method of weapons training, since it doesn’t involve me getting beaten up by a girl.”

Vin sighed, but didn’t press the point further.

6

ELEND LEANED DOWN AGAINST THE railing, looking in at the sparring yard. Part of him did wish to go out and practice with Vin and Ham. However, the larger part of him just didn’t see the point.

Any assassin likely to come after me will be an Allomancer, he thought. I could train ten years and be no match for one of them.

In the yard itself, Ham took a few swings with his staff, then nodded. Vin stepped up, holding her own staff, which was a good foot taller than she was. Watching the two of them, Elend couldn’t help remarking on the disparity. Ham had the firm muscles and powerful build of a warrior. Vin looked even thinner than usual, wearing only a tight buttoned shirt and a pair of trousers, with no cloak to mask her size.

The inequality was enhanced by Ham’s next words. “We’re practicing with the staff, not practicing Pushing and Pulling. Don’t use anything but pewter, all right?”

Vin nodded.

It was the way they often sparred. Ham claimed that there was no substitute for training and practice, no matter how powerful an Allomancer one was. He let Vin use pewter, however, because he said the enhanced strength and dexterity was disorienting unless one was accustomed to it.

The sparring field was like a courtyard. Situated in the palace barracks, it had an open-sided hallway built around it. Elend stood in this, roof overhead keeping the red sun out of his eyes. That was nice, for a light ashfall had begun, and occasional flakes of ash floated down from the sky. Elend crossed his arms on the railing. Soldiers passed occasionally in the hallway behind, bustling with activity. Some, however, paused to watch; Vin and Ham’s sparring sessions were something of a welcome diversion to the palace guards.

I should be working on my proposal, Elend thought. Not standing here watching Vin fight.

But… the tension of the last few days had been so pressing that he was finding it difficult to get up the motivation to do yet another read-through of the speech. What he really needed was to just spend a few moments thinking.

So, he simply watched. Vin approached Ham warily, staff held in a firm, two-handed stance. Once, Elend probably would have found trousers and shirt on a lady to be inappropriate, but he’d been around Vin too long to still be bothered by that. Ball gowns and dresses were beautiful – but there was something right about Vin in simple garb. She wore it more comfortably.

Besides, he kind of liked how the tight clothing looked on her.

Vin usually let others strike first, and this day was no exception. Staves rapped as Ham engaged her, and despite her size, Vin held her own. After a quick exchange, they both backed away, circling warily.

“My money’s on the girl.”

Elend turned as he noticed a form limping down the hallway toward him. Clubs stepped up beside Elend, setting a ten-boxing coin down on the railing with a snap. Elend smiled to the general, and Clubs scowled back – which was generally accepted as Clubs’s version of a smile. Dockson excluded, Elend had taken quickly to the other members of Vin’s crew. Clubs, however, had taken a little getting used to. The stocky man had a face like a gnarled toadstool, and he always seemed to be squinting in displeasure – an expression usually matched by his tone of voice.

However, he was a gifted craftsman, not to mention an Allomancer – a Smoker, actually, though he didn’t get to use his power much anymore. For the better part of a year, Clubs had acted as general of Elend’s military forces. Elend didn’t know where Clubs had learned to lead soldiers, but the man had a remarkable knack for it. He’d probably gotten the skill in the same place that he’d acquired the scar on his leg – a scar that produced the hobble from which Clubs drew his nickname.

“They’re just sparring, Clubs,” Elend said. “There won’t be a ‘winner.’ ”

“They’ll end with a serious exchange,” Clubs said. “They always do.”

Elend paused. “You’re asking me to bet against Vin, you know,” he noted. “That could be unhealthy.”

“So?”

Elend smiled, pulling out a coin. Clubs still kind of intimidated him, and he didn’t want to risk offending the man.

“Where’s that worthless nephew of mine?” Clubs asked as he watched the sparring.

“Spook?” Elend asked. “He’s back? How’d he get into the city?”

Clubs shrugged. “He left something on my doorstep this morning.”

“A gift?”

Clubs snorted. “It was a woodcarving from a master carpenter up in Yelva City. The note said, ‘I just wanted to show you what real carpenters are up to, old man.’ ”

Elend chuckled, but trailed off as Clubs eyed him with a discomforting stare. “Whelp was never this insolent before,” Clubs muttered. “I swear, you lot have corrupted the lad.”

Clubs almost seemed to be smiling. Or, was he serious? Elend couldn’t ever decide if the man was as crusty as he seemed, or if Elend was the butt of some elaborate joke.

“How is the army doing?” Elend finally asked.

“Terribly,” Clubs said. “You want an army? Give me more than one year to train it. Right now, I’d barely trust those boys against a mob of old women with sticks.”

Great, Elend thought.

“Can’t do much right now, though,” Clubs grumbled. “Straff is digging in some cursory fortifications, but mostly he’s just resting his men. The attack will come by the end of the week.”

In the courtyard, Vin and Ham continued to fight. It was slow, for the moment, Ham taking time to pause and explain principles or stances. Elend and Clubs watched for a short time as the sparring gradually became more intense, the rounds taking longer, the two participants beginning to sweat as their feet kicked up puffs of ash in the packed, sooty earth.

Vin gave Ham a good contest despite the ridiculous differences in strength, reach, and training, and Elend found himself smiling slightly despite himself. She was something special – Elend had realized that when he’d first seen her in the Venture ballroom, nearly two years before. He was only now coming to realize how much of an understatement “special” was.

A coin snapped against the wooden railing. “My money’s on Vin, too.”

Elend turned with surprise. The man who had spoken was a soldier who had been standing with the others watching behind. Elend frowned. “Who–”

Then, Elend cut himself off. The beard was wrong, the posture too straight, but the man standing behind him was familiar. “Spook?” Elend asked incredulously.

The teenage boy smiled behind an apparently fake beard. “Wasing the where of calling out.”

Elend’s head immediately began to hurt. “Lord Ruler, don’t tell me you’ve gone back to the dialect?”

“Oh, just for the occasional nostalgic quip,” Spook said with a laugh. His words bore traces of his Easterner accent; during the first few months Elend had known the boy, Spook had been utterly unintelligible. Fortunately, the boy had grown out of using his street cant, just as he’d managed to grow out of most of his clothing. Well over six feet tall, the sixteen-year-old young man hardly resembled the gangly boy Elend had met a year before.

Spook leaned against the railing beside Elend, adopting a teenage boy’s lounging posture and completely destroying his image as a soldier – which, indeed, he wasn’t.

“Why the costume, Spook?” Elend asked with a frown.

Spook shrugged. “I’m no Mistborn. We more mundane spies have to find ways to get information without flying up to windows and listening outside.”

“How long you been standing there?” Clubs asked, glaring at his nephew.

“Since before you got here, Uncle Grumbles,” Spook said. “And, in answer to your question, I got back a couple days ago. Before Dockson, actually. I just thought I’d take a bit of a break before I went back to duty.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Spook,” Elend said, “but we’re at war. There isn’t a lot of time to take breaks.”

Spook shrugged. “I just didn’t want you to send me away again. If there’s going to be war here, I want to be around. You know, for the excitement.”

Clubs snorted. “And where did you get that uniform?”

“Uh… Well…” Spook glanced to the side, displaying just a hint of the uncertain boy Elend had known.

Clubs grumbled something about insolent boys, but Elend just laughed and clapped Spook on the shoulder. The boy looked up, smiling; though he’d been easy to ignore at first, he was proving as valuable as any of the other members of Vin’s former crew. As a Tineye – a Misting who could burn tin to enhance his senses – Spook could listen to conversations from far away, not to mention notice distant details.

“Anyway, welcome back,” Elend said. “What’s the word from the west?”

Spook shook his head. “I hate to sound too much like Uncle Crusty over there, but the news isn’t good. You know those rumors about the Lord Ruler’s atium being in Luthadel? Well, they’re back. Stronger this time.”

“I thought we were past that!” Elend said. Breeze and his team had spent the better part of six months spreading rumors and manipulating the warlords into believing that the atium must have been hidden in another city, since Elend hadn’t found it in Luthadel.

“Guess not,” Spook said. “And… I think someone’s spreading these rumors intentionally. I’ve been on the street long enough to sense a planted story, and this rumor smells wrong. Someone really wants the warlords to focus on you.”

Great, Elend thought. “You don’t know where Breeze is, do you?”

Spook shrugged, but he no longer seemed to be paying attention to Elend. He was watching the sparring. Elend glanced back toward Vin and Ham.

As Clubs had predicted, the two had fallen into a more serious contest. There was no more instruction; there were no more quick, repetitive exchanges. They sparred in earnest, fighting in a swirling melee of staffs and dust. Ash flew around them, blown up by the wind of their attacks, and even more soldiers paused in the surrounding hallways to watch.

Elend leaned forward. There was something intense about a duel between two Allomancers. Vin tried an attack. Ham, however, swung simultaneously, his staff blurringly quick. Somehow, Vin got her own weapon up in time, but the power of Ham’s blow threw her back in a tumble. She hit the ground on one shoulder. She gave barely a grunt of pain, however, and somehow got a hand beneath her, throwing herself up to land on her feet. She skidded for a moment, retaining her balance, holding her staff up.

Pewter, Elend thought. It made even a clumsy man dexterous. And, for a person normally graceful like Vin…

Vin’s eyes narrowed, her innate stubbornness showing in the set of her jaw, the displeasure in her face. She didn’t like being beaten – even when her opponent was obviously stronger than she was.

Elend stood up straight, intending to suggest an end to the sparring. At that moment, Vin dashed forward.

Ham brought his staff up expectantly, swinging as Vin came within reach. She ducked to the side, passing within inches of the attack, then brought her weapon around and slammed it into the back of Ham’s staff, throwing him off balance. Then she ducked in for the attack.

Ham, however, recovered quickly. He let the force of Vin’s blow spin him around, and he used the momentum to bring his staff around in a powerful blow aimed directly at Vin’s chest.

Elend cried out.

Vin jumped.

She didn’t have metal to Push against, but that didn’t seem to matter. She sprang a good seven feet in the air, easily cresting Ham’s staff. She flipped as the swing passed beneath her, her fingers brushing the air just above the weapon, her own staff spinning in a one-handed grip.

Vin landed, her staff already howling in a low swing, its tip throwing up a line of ash as it ran along the ground. It slammed into the back of Ham’s legs. The blow swept Ham’s feet out from beneath him, and he cried out as he fell.

Vin jumped into the air again.

Ham slammed to the earth on his back, and Vin landed on his chest. Then, she calmly rapped him on the forehead with the end of her staff. “I win.”

Ham lay, looking dazed, Vin crouching on his chest. Dust and ash settled quietly in the courtyard.

“Damn…” Spook whispered, voicing a sentiment that seemed to be shared by the dozen or so watching soldiers.

Finally, Ham chuckled. “Fine. You beat me – now, if you would, kindly get me something to drink while I try to massage some feeling back into my legs.”

Vin smiled, hopping off his chest and scampering away to do as requested. Ham shook his head, climbing to his feet. Despite his words, he walked with barely a limp; he’d probably have a bruise, but it wouldn’t bother him for long. Pewter not only enhanced one’s strength, balance, and speed, it also made one’s body innately stronger. Ham could shrug off a blow that would have shattered Elend’s legs.

Ham joined them, nodding to Clubs and punching Spook lightly on the arm. Then he leaned against the railing and rubbed his left calf, cringing slightly. “I swear, Elend – sometimes sparring with that girl is like trying to fight with a gust of wind. She’s never where I think she’ll be.”

“How did she do that, Ham?” Elend asked. “The jump, I mean. That leap seemed inhuman, even for an Allomancer.”

“Used steel, didn’t she?” Spook said.

Ham shook his head. “No, I doubt it.”

“Then how?” Elend asked.

“Allomancers draw strength from their metals,” Ham said, sighing and putting his foot down. “Some can squeeze out more than others – but the real power comes from the metal itself, not the person’s body.”

Elend paused. “So?”

“So,” Ham said, “an Allomancer doesn’t have to be physically strong to be incredibly powerful. If Vin were a Feruchemist, it would be different – if you ever see Sazed increase his strength, his muscles will grow larger. But with Allomancy, all the strength comes directly from the metal.

“Now, most Thugs – myself included – figure that making their bodies strong will only add to their power. After all, a muscular man burning pewter will be that much stronger than a regular man of the same Allomantic power.”

Ham rubbed his chin, eyeing the passage Vin had left through. “But… well, I’m beginning to think that there might be another way. Vin’s a thin little thing, but when she burns pewter, she grows several times stronger than any normal warrior. She packs all that strength into a small body, and doesn’t have to bother with the weight of massive muscles. She’s like… an insect. Far stronger than her mass or her body would indicate. So, when she jumps, she can jump.”

“But you’re still stronger than she is,” Spook said.

Ham nodded. “And I can make use of that – assuming I can ever hit her. That’s getting harder and harder to do.”

Vin finally returned, carrying a jug of chilled juice – apparently she’d decided to go all the way to the keep, rather than grabbing some of the warm ale kept on hand in the courtyard. She handed a flagon to Ham, and had thought to bring cups for Elend and Clubs.

“Hey!” Spook said as she poured. “What about me?”

“That beard looks silly on you,” Vin said as she poured.

“So I don’t get anything to drink?”

“No.”

Spook paused. “Vin, you’re a strange girl.”

Vin rolled her eyes; then she glanced toward the water barrel in the corner of the courtyard. One of the tin cups lying beside it lurched into the air, shooting across the courtyard. Vin stuck her hand out, catching it with a slapping sound, then set it on the railing before Spook. “Happy?”

“I will be once you pour me something to drink,” Spook said as Clubs grunted, taking a slurp from his own cup. The old general then reached over, sliding two of the coins off the railing and pocketing them.

“Hey, that’s right!” Spook said. “You owe me, El. Pay up.”

Elend lowered his cup. “I never agreed to the bet.”

“You paid Uncle Irritable. Why not me?”

Elend paused, then sighed, pulling out a ten-boxing coin and setting it beside Spook’s. The boy smiled, plucking both up in a smooth street-thief gesture. “Thanks for winning the bout, Vin,” he said with a wink.

Vin frowned at Elend. “You bet against me?”

Elend laughed, leaning across the railing to kiss her. “I didn’t mean it. Clubs bullied me.”

Clubs snorted at that comment, downed the rest of his juice, then held out his cup for a refill. When Vin didn’t respond, he turned to Spook and gave the boy a telling scowl. Finally, Spook sighed, picking up the jug to refill the cup.

Vin was still regarding Elend with dissatisfaction.

“I’d be careful, Elend,” Ham said with a chuckle. “She can hit pretty hard…”

Elend nodded. “I should know better than to antagonize her when there are weapons lying around, eh?”

“Tell me about it,” Ham said.

Vin sniffed at that comment, rounding the railing so that she could stand next to Elend. Elend put his arm around her, and as he did, he caught a bare flash of envy in Spook’s eyes. Elend suspected that the boy’d had a crush on Vin for some time – but, well, Elend couldn’t really blame him for that.

Spook shook his head. “I’ve got to find myself a woman.”

“Well, that beard isn’t going to help,” Vin said.

“It’s just a disguise, Vin,” Spook said. “El, I don’t suppose you could give me a title or something?”

Elend smiled. “I don’t think that will matter, Spook.”

“It worked for you.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Elend said. “Somehow, I think Vin fell in love with me despite my title, rather than because of it.”

“But you had others before her,” Spook said. “Noble girls.”

“A couple,” Elend admitted.

“Though Vin has a habit of killing off her competition,” Ham quipped.

Elend laughed. “Now, see, she only did that once. And I think Shan deserved it – she was, after all, trying to assassinate me at the time.” He looked down fondly, eyeing Vin. “Though, I do have to admit, Vin is a bit hard on other women. With her around, everybody else looks bland by comparison.”

Spook rolled his eyes. “It’s more interesting when she kills them off.”

Ham chuckled, letting Spook pour him some more juice. “Lord Ruler only knows what she’d do to you if you ever tried to leave her, Elend.”

Vin stiffened immediately, pulling him a little tighter. She’d been abandoned far too many times. Even after what they’d been through, even after his proposal of marriage, Elend had to keep promising Vin that he wasn’t going to leave her.

Time to change the topic, Elend thought, the joviality of the moment fading. “Well,” he said, “I think I’m going to go visit the kitchens and get something to eat. You coming, Vin?”

Vin glanced at the sky – likely checking to see how soon it would grow dark. Finally, she nodded.

“I’ll come,” Spook said.

“No you won’t,” Clubs said, grabbing the boy by the back of the neck. “You’re going to stay right here and explain exactly where you got one of my soldiers’ uniforms.”

Elend chuckled, leading Vin away. Truth be told, even with the slightly sour end of conversation, he felt better for having come to watch the sparring. It was strange how the members of Kelsier’s crew could laugh and make light, even during the most terrible of situations. They had a way of making him forget about his problems. Perhaps that was a holdover from the Survivor. Kelsier had, apparently, insisted on laughing, no matter how bad the situation. It had been a form of rebellion to him.

None of that made the problems go away. They still faced an army several times larger than their own, in a city that they could barely defend. Yet, if anyone could survive such a situation, it would be Kelsier’s crew.

Later that night, having filled her stomach at Elend’s insistence, Vin made her way with Elend to her rooms.

There, sitting on the floor, was a perfect replica of the wolfhound she had bought earlier. It eyed her, then bowed its head. “Welcome back, Mistress,” the kandra said in a growling, muffled voice.

Elend whistled appreciatively, and Vin walked in a circle around the creature. Each hair appeared to have been placed perfectly. If it hadn’t spoken, one would never have been able to tell it wasn’t the original dog.

“How do you manage the voice?” Elend asked curiously.

“A voice box is a construction of flesh, not bone, Your Majesty,” OreSeur said. “Older kandra learn to manipulate their bodies, not just replicate them. I still need to digest a person’s corpse to memorize and re-create their exact features. However, I can improvise some things.”

Vin nodded. “Is that why making this body took you so much longer than you’d said?”

“No, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “The hair. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you – placing fur like this takes a great deal of precision and effort.”

“Actually, you did mention it,” Vin said, waving her hand.

“What do you think of the body, OreSeur?” Elend asked.

“Honestly, Your Majesty?”

“Of course.”

“It is offensive and degrading,” OreSeur said.

Vin raised an eyebrow. That’s forward of you, Renoux, she thought. Feeling a little belligerent today, are we?

He glanced at her, and she tried – unsuccessfully – to read his canine expression.

“But,” Elend said, “you’ll wear the body anyway, right?”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” OreSeur said. “I would die before breaking the Contract. It is life.”

Elend nodded to Vin, as if he’d just made a major point.

Anyone can claim loyalty, Vin thought. If someone has a “Contract” to ensure their honor, then all the better. That makes the surprise more poignant when they do turn on you.

Elend was obviously waiting for something. Vin sighed. “OreSeur, we’ll be spending more time together in the future.”

“If that is what you wish, Mistress.”

“I’m not sure if it is or not,” Vin said. “But it’s going to happen anyway. How well can you move about in that body?”

“Well enough, Mistress.”

“Come on,” she said, “let’s see if you can keep up.”

7

SAZED NEVER THOUGHT HE’D HAVE reason to appreciate dirt floors. However, they proved remarkably useful in writing instruction. He drew several words in the dirt with a long stick, giving his half-dozen students a model. They proceeded to scribble their own copies, rewriting the words several times.

Even after living among various groups of rural skaa for a year, Sazed was still surprised by their meager resources. There wasn’t a single piece of chalk in the entire village, let alone ink or paper. Half the children ran around naked, and the only shelters were the hovels – long, one-room structures with patchy roofs. The skaa had farming tools, fortunately, but no manner of bows or slings for hunting.

Sazed had led a scavenging mission up to the plantation’s abandoned manor. The leavings had been meager. He’d suggested that the village elders relocate their people to the manor itself for the winter, but he doubted they would do so. They had visited the manor with apprehension, and many hadn’t been willing to leave Sazed’s side. The place reminded them of lords – and lords reminded them of pain.

His students continued to scribble. He had spent quite a bit of effort explaining to the elders why writing was so important. Finally, they had chosen him some students – partially, Sazed was sure, just to appease him. He shook his head slowly as he watched them write. There was no passion in their learning. They came because they were ordered, and because “Master Terrisman” willed it, not because of any real desire for education.

During the days before the Collapse, Sazed had often imagined what the world would be like once the Lord Ruler was gone. He had pictured the Keepers emerging, bringing forgotten knowledge and truths to an excited, thankful populace. He’d imagined teaching before a warm hearth at night, telling stories to an eager audience. He’d never paused to consider a village, stripped of its working men, whose people were too exhausted at night to bother with tales from the past. He’d never imagined a people who seemed more annoyed by his presence than thankful.

You must be patient with them, Sazed told himself sternly. His dreams now seemed like hubris. The Keepers who had come before him, the hundreds who had died keeping their knowledge safe and quiet, had never expected praise or accolades. They had performed their great task with solemn anonymity.

Sazed stood up and inspected his students’ writings. They were getting better – they could recognize all of the letters. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. He nodded to the group, dismissing them to help prepare the evening meal.

They bowed, then scattered. Sazed followed them out, then realized how dim the sky was; he had probably kept his students too late. He shook his head as he strolled between the hill-like hovels. He again wore his steward’s robes, with their colorful V-shaped patterns, and he had put in several of his earrings. He kept to the old ways because they were familiar, even though they were also a symbol of oppression. How would future Terris generations dress? Would a lifestyle forced upon them by the Lord Ruler become an innate part of their culture?

He paused at the edge of the village, glancing down the corridor of the southern valley. It was filled with blackened soil occasionally split by brown vines or shrubs. No mist, of course; mist came only during the night. The stories had to be mistakes. The thing he’d seen had to have been a fluke.

And what did it matter if it wasn’t? It wasn’t his duty to investigate such things. Now that the Collapse had come, he had to disperse his knowledge, not waste his time chasing after foolish stories. Keepers were no longer investigators, but instructors. He carried with him thousands of books – information about farming, about sanitation, about government, and about medicine. He needed to give these things to the skaa. That was what the Synod had decided.

And yet, a part of Sazed resisted. That made him feel deeply guilty; the villagers needed his teachings, and he wished dearly to help them. However… he felt that he was missing something. The Lord Ruler was dead, but the story did not seem finished. Was there something he had overlooked?

Something larger, even, than the Lord Ruler? Something so large, so big, that it was effectively invisible?

Or, do I just want there to be something else? he wondered. I’ve spent most of my adult life resisting and fighting, taking risks that the other Keepers called mad. I wasn’t content with feigned subservience – I had to get involved in the rebellion.

Despite that rebellion’s success, Sazed’s brethren still hadn’t forgiven him for his involvement. He knew that Vin and the others saw him as docile, but compared with other Keepers he was a wild man. A reckless, untrustworthy fool who threatened the entire order with his impatience. They had believed their duty was to wait, watching for the day when the Lord Ruler was gone. Feruchemists were too rare to risk in open rebellion.

Sazed had disobeyed. Now he was having trouble living the peaceful life of a teacher. Was that because some subconscious part of him knew that the people were still in danger, or was it because he simply couldn’t accept being marginalized?

“Master Terrisman!”

Sazed spun. The voice was terrified. Another death in the mists? he thought immediately.

It was eerie how the other skaa remained inside their hovels despite the horrified voice. A few doors creaked, but nobody rushed out in alarm – or even curiosity – as the screamer dashed up to Sazed. She was one of the fieldworkers, a stout, middle-aged woman. Sazed checked his reserves as she approached; he had on his pewtermind for strength, of course, and a very small steel ring for speed. Suddenly, he wished he’d chosen to wear just a few more bracelets this day.

“Master Terrisman!” the woman said, out of breath. “Oh, he’s come back! He’s come for us!”

“Who?” Sazed asked. “The man who died in the mists?”

“No, Master Terrisman. The Lord Ruler.”

Sazed found him standing just outside the village. It was already growing dark, and the woman who’d fetched Sazed had returned to her hovel in fear. Sazed could only imagine how the poor people felt – trapped by the onset of the night and its mist, yet huddled and worried at the danger that lurked outside.

And an ominous danger it was. The stranger waited quietly on the worn road, wearing a black robe, standing almost as tall as Sazed himself. The man was bald, and he wore no jewelry – unless, of course, you counted the massive iron spikes that had been driven point-first through his eyes.

Not the Lord Ruler. A Steel Inquisitor.

Sazed still didn’t understand how the creatures continued to live. The spikes were wide enough to fill the Inquisitor’s entire eye sockets; the nails had destroyed the eyes, and pointed tips jutted out the back of the skull. No blood dripped from the wounds – for some reason, that made them seem more strange.

Fortunately, Sazed knew this particular Inquisitor. “Marsh,” Sazed said quietly as the mists began to form.

“You are a very difficult person to track, Terrisman,” Marsh said – and the sound of his voice shocked Sazed. It had changed, somehow, becoming more grating, more gristly. It now had a grinding quality, like that of a man with a cough. Just like the other Inquisitors Sazed had heard.

“Track?” Sazed asked. “I wasn’t planning on others needing to find me.”

“Regardless,” Marsh said, turning south. “I did. You need to come with me.”

Sazed frowned. “What? Marsh, I have a work to do here.”

“Unimportant,” Marsh said, turning back, focusing his eyeless gaze on Sazed.

Is it me, or has he become stranger since we last met? Sazed shivered. “What is this about, Marsh?”

“The Conventical of Seran is empty.”

Sazed paused. The Conventical was a Ministry stronghold to the south – a place where the Inquisitors and high obligators of the Lord Ruler’s religion had retreated after the Collapse.

“Empty?” Sazed asked. “That isn’t likely, I think.”

“True nonetheless,” Marsh said. He didn’t use body language as he spoke – no gesturing, no movements of the face.

“I…” Sazed trailed off. What kinds of information, wonders, secrets, the Conventical’s libraries must hold.

“You must come with me,” Marsh said. “I may need help, should my brethren discover us.”

My brethren. Since when are the Inquisitors Marsh’s “brethren“? Marsh had infiltrated their numbers as part of Kelsier’s plan to overthrow the Final Empire. He was a traitor to their numbers, not their brother.

Sazed hesitated. Marsh’s profile looked… unnatural, even unnerving, in the dim light. Dangerous.

Don’t be foolish, Sazed chastised himself. Marsh was Kelsier’s brother – the Survivor’s only living relative. As an Inquisitor, Marsh had authority over the Steel Ministry, and many of the obligators had listened to him despite his involvement with the rebellion. He had been an invaluable resource for Elend Venture’s fledgling government.

“Go get your things,” Marsh said.

My place is here, Sazed thought. Teaching the people, not gallivanting across the countryside, chasing my own ego.

And yet…

“The mists are coming during the day,” Marsh said quietly.

Sazed looked up. Marsh was staring at him, the heads of his spikes shining like round disks in the last slivers of sunlight. Superstitious skaa thought that Inquisitors could read minds, though Sazed knew that was foolish. Inquisitors had the powers of Mistborn, and could therefore influence other people’s emotions – but they could not read minds.

“Why did you say that?” Sazed asked.

“Because it is true,” Marsh said. “This is not over, Sazed. It has not yet begun. The Lord Ruler… he was just a delay. A cog. Now that he is gone, we have little time remaining. Come with me to the Conventical – we must search it while we have the opportunity.”

Sazed paused, then nodded. “Let me go explain to the villagers. We can leave tonight, I think.”

Marsh nodded, but he didn’t move as Sazed retreated to the village. He just remained, standing in the darkness, letting the mist gather around him.

8

VIN THREW HERSELF INTO THE mists. She soared in the night air, passing over darkened homes and streets. An occasional, furtive bob of light glowed in the mists – a guard patrol, or perhaps an unfortunate late-night traveler.

Vin began to descend, and she immediately flipped a coin out before herself. She Pushed against it, her weight plunging it down into the quiet depths. As soon as it hit the street below, her Push forced her upward, and she sprang back into the air. Soft Pushes were very difficult – so each coin she Pushed against, each jump she made, threw her into the air at a terrible speed. The jumping of a Mistborn wasn’t like a bird’s flight. It was more like the path of a ricocheting arrow.

And yet, there was a grace to it. Vin breathed deeply as she arced above the city, tasting the cool, humid air. Luthadel by day smelled of burning forges, sun-heated refuse, and fallen ash. At night, however, the mists gave the air a beautiful chill crispness – almost a cleanliness.

Vin crested her jump, and she hung for just a brief moment as her momentum changed. Then she began to plummet back toward the city. Her mistcloak tassels fluttered around her, mingling with her hair. She fell with her eyes closed, remembering her first few weeks in the mist, training beneath Kelsier’s relaxed – yet watchful – tutelage. He had given her this. Freedom. Despite two years as a Mistborn, she had never lost the sense of intoxicating wonder she felt when soaring through the mists.

She burned steel with her eyes closed; the lines appeared anyway, visible as a spray of threadlike blue lines set against the blackness of her eyelids. She picked two, pointing downward behind her, and Pushed, throwing herself into an other arc.

What did I ever do without this? Vin thought, opening her eyes, whipping her mistcloak behind her with a throw of the arm.

Eventually, she began to fall again, and this time she didn’t toss a coin. She burned pewter to strengthen her limbs, and landed with a thump on the wall surrounding Keep Venture’s grounds. Her bronze showed no signs of Allomantic activity nearby, and her steel revealed no unusual patterns of metal moving toward the keep.

Vin crouched on the dark wall for a few moments, right at the edge, toes curling over the lip of the stone. The rock was cool beneath her feet, and her tin made her skin far more sensitive than normal. She could tell that the wall needed to be cleaned; lichens were beginning to grow along its side, encouraged by the night’s humidity, protected from the day’s sun by a nearby tower.

Vin remained quiet, watching a slight breeze push and churn the mists. She heard the movement on the street below before she saw it. She tensed, checking her reserves, before she was able to discern a wolfhound’s shape in the shadows.

She dropped a coin over the side of the wall, then leapt off. OreSeur waited as she landed quietly before him, using a quick Push on the coin to slow her descent.

“You move quickly,” Vin noted appreciatively.

“All I had to do was round the palace grounds, Mistress.”

“Still, you stuck closer to me this time than you ever did before. That wolfhound’s body is faster than a human one.”

OreSeur paused. “I suppose,” he admitted.

“Think you can follow me through the city?”

“Probably,” OreSeur said. “If you lose me, I will return to this point so you can retrieve me.”

Vin turned and dashed down a side street. OreSeur then took off quietly behind her, following.

Let’s see how well he does in a more demanding chase, she thought, burning pewter and increasing her speed. She sprinted along the cool cobbles, barefoot as always. A normal man could never have maintained such a speed. Even a trained runner couldn’t have kept pace with her, for he would have quickly tired.

With pewter, however, Vin could run for hours at breakneck speeds. It gave her strength, lent her an unreal sense of balance, as she shot down the dark, mist-ruled street, a flurry of cloak tassels and bare feet.

OreSeur kept pace. He loped beside her in the night, breathing heavily, focused on his running.

Impressive, Vin thought, then turned down an alleyway. She easily jumped the six-foot-tall fence at the back, passing into the garden of some lesser nobleman’s mansion. She spun, skidding on the wet grass, and watched.

OreSeur crested the top of the wooden fence, his dark, canine form dropping through the mists to land in the loam before Vin. He came to a stop, resting on his haunches, waiting quietly, panting. There was a look of defiance in his eyes.

All right, Vin thought, pulling out a handful of coins. Follow this.

She dropped a coin and threw herself backward up into the air. She spun in the mists, twisting, then Pushed herself sideways off a well spigot. She landed on a rooftop and jumped off, using another coin to Push herself over the street below.

She kept going, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, using coins when necessary. She occasionally shot a glance behind, and saw a dark form struggling to keep up. He’d rarely followed her as a human; usually, she had checked in with him at specific points. Moving out in the night, jumping through the mists… this was the true domain of the Mistborn. Did Elend understand what he asked when he told her to bring OreSeur with her? If she stayed down on the streets, she’d expose herself.

She landed on a rooftop, jarring to a sudden halt as she grabbed hold of the building’s stone lip, leaning out over a street three stories below. She maintained her balance, mist swirling below her. All was silent.

Well, that didn’t take long, she thought. I’ll just have to explain to Elend that–

OreSeur’s canine form thumped to the rooftop a short distance away. He padded over to her, then sat down on his haunches, waiting expectantly.

Vin frowned. She’d traveled for a good ten minutes, running over rooftops with the speed of a Mistborn. “How… how did you get up here?” she demanded.

“I jumped atop a shorter building, then used it to reach these tenements, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “Then I followed you along the rooftops. They are placed so closely together that it was not difficult to jump from one to another.”

Vin’s confusion must have shown, for OreSeur continued. “I may have been… hasty in my judgment of these bones, Mistress. They certainly do have an impressive sense of smell – in fact, all of their senses are quite keen. It was surprisingly easy to track you, even in the darkness.”

“I… see,” Vin said. “Well, that’s good.”

“Might I ask, Mistress, the purpose of that chase?”

Vin shrugged. “I do this sort of thing every night.”

“It seemed like you were particularly intent on losing me. It will be very difficult to protect you if you don’t let me stay near you.”

“Protect me?” Vin asked. “You can’t even fight.”

“The Contract forbids me from killing a human,” OreSeur said. “I could, however, go for help should you need it.”

Or throw me a bit of atium in a moment of danger, Vin admitted. He’s right – he could be useful. Why am I so determined to leave him behind?

She glanced over at OreSeur, who sat patiently, his chest puffing from exertion. She hadn’t realized that kandra even needed to breathe.

He ate Kelsier.

“Come on,” Vin said. She jumped from the building, Pushing herself off a coin. She didn’t pause to see if OreSeur followed.

As she fell, she reached for another coin, but decided not to use it. She Pushed against a passing window bracket instead. Like most Mistborn, she often used clips – the smallest denomination of coin – to jump. It was very convenient that the economy supplied a prepackaged bit of metal of an ideal size and weight for jumping and shooting. To most Mistborn, the cost of a thrown clip – or even a bag of them – was negligible.

But Vin was not most Mistborn. In her younger years, a handful of clips would have seemed an amazing treasure. That much money could have meant food for weeks, if she scrimped. It also could have meant pain – even death – if the other thieves had discovered that she’d obtained such a fortune.

It had been a long time since she’d gone hungry. Though she still kept a pack of dried foods in her quarters, she did so more out of habit than anxiety. She honestly wasn’t sure what she thought of the changes within her. It was nice not to have to worry about basic necessities – and yet, those worries had been replaced by ones far more daunting. Worries involving the future of an entire nation.

The future of… a people. She landed on the city wall – a structure much higher, and much better fortified, than the small wall around Keep Venture. She hopped up on the battlements, fingers seeking a hold on one of the merlons as she leaned over the edge of the wall, looking out over the army’s fires.

She had never met Straff Venture, but she had heard enough from Elend to be worried.

She sighed, pushing back off the battlement and hopping onto the wall walk. Then she leaned back against one of the merlons. To the side, OreSeur trotted up the wall steps and approached. Once again, he went down onto his haunches, watching patiently.

For better or for worse, Vin’s simple life of starvation and beatings was gone. Elend’s fledgling kingdom was in serious danger, and she’d burned away the last of his atium trying to keep herself alive. She’d left him exposed – not just to armies, but to any Mistborn assassin who tried to kill him.

An assassin like the Watcher, perhaps? The mysterious figure who had interfered in her fight against Cett’s Mistborn. What did he want? Why did he watch her, rather than Elend?

Vin sighed, reaching into her coin pouch and pulling out her bar of duralumin. She still had the reserve of it within her, the bit she’d swallowed earlier.

For centuries, it had been assumed that there were only ten Allomantic metals: the four base metals and their alloys, plus atium and gold. Yet, Allomantic metals always came in pairs – a base metal and an alloy. It had always bothered Vin that atium and gold were considered a pair, when neither was an alloy of the other. In the end, it had turned out that they weren’t actually paired; they each had an alloy. One of these – malatium, the so-called Eleventh Metal – had eventually given Vin the clue she’d needed to defeat the Lord Ruler.

Somehow Kelsier had found out about malatium. Sazed still hadn’t been able to trace the “legends” that Kelsier had supposedly uncovered teaching of the Eleventh Metal and its power to defeat the Lord Ruler.

Vin rubbed her finger on the slick surface of the duralumin bar. When Vin had last seen Sazed, he’d seemed frustrated – or, at least, as frustrated as Sazed ever grew – that he couldn’t find even hints regarding Kelsier’s supposed legends. Though Sazed claimed he’d left Luthadel to teach the people of the Final Empire – as was his duty as a Keeper – Vin hadn’t missed the fact that Sazed had gone south. The direction in which Kelsier claimed to have discovered the Eleventh Metal.

Are there rumors about this metal, too? Vin wondered, rubbing the duralumin. Ones that might tell me what it does?

Each of the other metals produced an immediate, visible effect; only copper, with its ability to create a cloud that masked an Allomancer’s powers from others, didn’t have an obvious sensory clue to its purpose. Perhaps duralumin was similar. Could its effect be noticed only by another Allomancer, one trying to use his or her powers on Vin? It was the opposite of aluminum, which made metals disappear. Did that mean duralumin would make other metals last longer?

Movement.

Vin just barely caught the hint of shadowed motion. At first, a primal bit of terror rose in her: Was it the misty form, the ghost in the darkness she had seen the night before?

You were just seeing things, she told herself forcefully. You were too tired. And, in truth, the glimmer of motion proved too dark – too real – to be the same ghostly image.

It was him.

He stood atop one of the watchtowers – not crouching, not even bothering to hide. Was he arrogant or foolish, this unknown Mistborn? Vin smiled, her apprehension turning to excitement. She prepared her metals, checking her reserves. Everything was ready.

Tonight I catch you, my friend.

Vin spun, throwing out a spray of coins. Either the Mistborn knew he’d been spotted, or he was ready for an attack, for he easily dodged. OreSeur hopped to his feet, spinning, and Vin whipped her belt free, dropping her metals.

“Follow if you can,” she whispered to the kandra, then sprang into the darkness after her prey.

The Watcher shot away, bounding through the night. Vin had little experience chasing another Mistborn; her only real chance to practice had come during Kelsier’s training sessions. She soon found herself struggling to keep up with the Watcher, and she felt a stab of guilt for what she had done to OreSeur earlier. She was learning firsthand how difficult it was to follow a determined Mistborn through the mists. And she didn’t have the advantage of a dog’s sense of smell.

She did, however, have tin. It made the night clearer and enhanced her hearing. With it, she managed to follow the Watcher as he moved toward the center of the city. Eventually, he let himself drop down toward one of the central fountain squares. Vin fell as well, hitting the slick cobblestones with a flare of pewter, then dodging to the side as he threw out a handful of coins.

Metal rang against stone in the quiet night, coins plinging against statues and cobblestones. Vin smiled as she landed on all fours; then she bounded forward, jumping with pewter-enhanced muscles and Pulling one of the coins up into her hand.

Her opponent leaped backward, landing on the edge of a nearby fountain. Vin landed, then dropped her coin, using it to throw herself upward over the Watcher’s head. He stooped, watching warily as she passed over him.

Vin caught of one of the bronze statues at the center of the fountain itself and pulled herself to a stop atop it. She crouched on the uneven footing, looking down at her opponent. He stood balanced on one foot at the edge of the fountain, quiet and black in the churning mists. There was a… challenge in his posture.

Can you catch me? he seemed to ask.

Vin whipped her daggers out and jumped free of the statue. She Pushed herself directly toward the Watcher, using the cool bronze as an anchor.

The Watcher used the statue as well, Pulling himself forward. He shot just beneath Vin, throwing up a wave of water, his incredible speed letting him skid like a stone across the fountain’s still surface. As he jumped clear of the water, he Pushed himself away, shooting across the square.

Vin landed on the fountain lip, chill water spraying across her. She growled, jumping after the Watcher.

As he landed, he spun and whipped out his own daggers. She rolled beneath his first attack, then brought her daggers up in a two-handed double jab. The Watcher jumped quickly out of the way, his daggers sparkling and dropping beads of fountain water. He had a lithe power about him as he came to rest in a crouch. His body looked tense and sure. Capable.

Vin smiled again, breathing quickly. She hadn’t felt like this since… since those nights so long ago, when she’d sparred with Kelsier. She remained in a crouch, waiting, watching the mist curl between her and her opponent. He was of medium height, had a wiry build, and he wore no mistcloak.

Why no cloak? Mistcloaks were the ubiquitous mark of her kind, a symbol of pride and security.

She was too far away to distinguish his face. She thought she saw a hint of a smile, however, as he jumped backward and Pushed against another statue. The chase began again.

Vin followed him through the city, flaring steel, landing on roofs and streets, Pushing herself in great arcing leaps. The two bounded through Luthadel like children on a playground – Vin trying to cut off her opponent, he cleverly managing to stay just a little bit ahead of her.

He was good. Far better than any Mistborn she had known or faced, save perhaps for Kelsier. However, she’d grown greatly in skill since she’d sparred with the Survivor. Could this newcomer be even better? The thought thrilled her. She’d always considered Kelsier a paradigm of Allomantic ability, and it was easy to forget that he’d had his powers for only a couple of years before the Collapse.

That’s the same amount of time that I’ve been training, Vin realized as she landed in a small, cramped street. She frowned, crouching, remaining still. She’d seen the Watcher fall toward this street.

Narrow and poorly maintained, the street was practically an alleyway, lined on both sides by three- and four-story buildings. There was no motion – either the Watcher had slipped away or he was hiding nearby. She burned iron, but the iron-lines revealed no motion.

However, there was another way…

Vin pretended to still be looking around, but she turned on her bronze, flaring it, trying to pierce the coppercloud that she thought might be close.

And there he was. Hiding in a room behind the mostly closed shutters of a derelict building. Now that she knew where to look, she saw the bit of metal he’d probably used to jump up to the second story, the latch he must have Pulled on to quickly close the shutters behind him. He’d probably scouted this street beforehand, always intending to lose her here.

Clever, Vin thought.

He couldn’t have anticipated her ability to pierce copperclouds. But, attacking him now might give away that ability. Vin stood quietly, thinking of him crouching above, tensely waiting for her to move off.

She smiled. Reaching inside, she examined the duralumin reserve. There was a possible way to discover if burning it created some change in the way she looked to another Mistborn. The Watcher was likely burning most of his metals, trying to determine what her next move would be.

So, thinking herself incredibly clever, Vin burned the fourteenth metal.

A massive explosion sounded in her ears. Vin gasped, dropping to her knees in shock. Everything grew bright around her, as if some crack of energy had illuminated the entire street. And she felt cold; frigidly, stunningly cold.

She moaned, trying to make sense of the sound. It… it wasn’t an explosion, but many explosions. A rhythmic thudding, like a drum pounding just beside her. Her heart-beat. And the breeze, loud as a howling wind. The scratchings of a dog searching for food. Someone snoring in their sleep. It was as if her hearing had been magnified a hundred times.

And then… nothing. Vin fell backward against the cobblestones, the sudden rush of light, coldness, and sound evaporating. A form moved in the shadows nearby, but she couldn’t make it out – she couldn’t see in the darkness anymore. Her tin was…

Gone, she realized, coming to. My entire store of tin has been burned away. I was… burning it, when I turned on the duralumin.

I burned them both at once. That’s the secret. The duralumin had burned away all her tin in a single, massive burst. It had made her senses amazingly acute for a very short time, but had stolen away her entire reserve. And, looking, she could see that her bronze and her pewter – the other metals she’d been burning at the time – were gone as well. The onrush of sensory information had been so vast that she hadn’t noticed the effects of the other two.

Think about it later, Vin told herself, shaking her head. She felt like she should be deafened and blinded, but she wasn’t. She was just a bit stunned.

The dark form moved up beside her in the mists. She didn’t have time to recover; she pushed herself to her feet, stumbling. The form, it was too short to be the Watcher. It was…

“Mistress, do you require assistance?”

Vin paused as OreSeur padded up to her, then sat on his haunches.

“You… managed to follow,” Vin said.

“It was not easy, Mistress,” OreSeur said flatly. “Do you require assistance?”

“What? No, no assistance.” Vin shook her head, clearing her mind. “I guess that’s one thing I didn’t think of by making you a dog. You can’t carry metals for me now.”

The kandra cocked his head, then padded over into an alleyway. He returned a moment later with something in his mouth. Her belt.

He dropped it by her feet, then returned to his waiting position. Vin picked up the belt, pulling off one of her extra metal vials. “Thank you,” she said slowly. “That is very… thoughtful of you.”

“I fulfill my Contract, Mistress,” the kandra said. “Nothing more.”

Well, this is more than you’ve ever done before, she thought, downing a vial and feeling her reserves return. She burned tin, restoring her night vision, releasing a veil of tension from her mind; since she’d discovered her powers, she’d never had to go out at night in complete darkness.

The shutters of the Watcher’s room were open; he had apparently fled during her fit. Vin sighed.

“Mistress!” OreSeur snapped.

Vin spun. A man landed quietly behind her. He looked… familiar, for some reason. He had a lean face – topped with dark hair – and his head was cocked slightly in confusion. She could see the question in his eyes. Why had she fallen down?

Vin smiled. “Maybe I just did it to lure you closer,” she whispered – softly, yet loud enough that she knew tin-enhanced ears would hear her.

The Mistborn smiled, then tipped his head to her as if in respect.

“Who are you?” Vin asked, stepping forward.

“An enemy,” he replied, holding up a hand to ward her back.

Vin paused. Mist swirled between them on the quiet street. “Why, then, did you help me fight those assassins?”

“Because,” he said. “I’m also insane.”

Vin frowned, eyeing the man. She had seen insanity before in the eyes of beggars. This man was not insane. He stood proudly, eyes controlled as he regarded her in the darkness.

What kind of game is he playing? she wondered.

Her instincts – a lifetime’s worth of instincts – warned her to be wary. She had only just learned to trust her friends, and she wasn’t about to offer the same privilege to a man she had met in the night.

And yet, it had been over a year since she’d spoken with another Mistborn. There were conflicts within her that she couldn’t explain to the others. Even Mistings, like Ham and Breeze, couldn’t understand the strange dual life of a Mistborn. Part assassin, part bodyguard, part noblewoman… part confused, quiet girl. Did this man have similar troubles with his identity?

Perhaps she could make an ally out of him, bringing a second Mistborn to the defense of the Central Dominance. Even if she couldn’t, she certainly couldn’t afford to fight him. A spar in the night was one thing, but if their contest grew dangerous, atium might come into play.

If that happened, she’d lose.

The Watcher studied her with a careful eye. “Answer something for me,” he said in the mists.

Vin nodded.

“Did you really kill Him?”

“Yes,” Vin whispered. There was only one person he could mean.

He nodded slowly. “Why do you play their games?”

“Whose games?”

The Watcher gestured into the mists, toward Keep Venture.

“Those aren’t games,” Vin said. “It’s no game when the people I love are in danger.”

The Watcher stood quietly, then shook his head, as if… disappointed. Then, he pulled something from his sash.

Vin jumped back immediately. The Watcher, however, simply flipped a coin to the ground between them. It bounced a couple of times, coming to a rest on the cobbles. Then, the Watcher Pushed himself backward into the air.

Vin didn’t follow. She reached up, rubbing her head; she still felt like she should have a headache.

“You’re letting him go?” OreSeur asked.

Vin nodded. “We’re done for tonight. He fought well.”

“You sound almost respectful,” the kandra said.

Vin turned, frowning at the hint of disgust in the kandra’s voice. OreSeur sat patiently, displaying no further emotion.

She sighed, tying her belt around her waist. “We’re going to need to come up with a harness or something for you,” she said. “I want you to carry extra metal vials for me, like you did as a human.”

“A harness won’t be necessary, Mistress,” OreSeur said.

“Oh?”

OreSeur rose, padding forward. “Please get out one of your vials.”

Vin did as requested, pulling out a small glass vial. OreSeur stopped, then turned one shoulder toward her. As she watched, the fur parted and the flesh itself split, showing forth veins and layers of skin. Vin pulled back a bit.

“There is no need to be worried, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “My flesh is not like your own. I have more… control over it, you might say. Place the metal vial inside my shoulder.”

Vin did as asked. The flesh sealed around the vial, obscuring it from view. Experimentally, Vin burned iron. No blue lines appeared pointing toward the hidden vial. Metal inside of a person’s stomach couldn’t be affected by another Allomancer; indeed, metal piercing a body, like Inquisitor spikes or Vin’s own earring, couldn’t be Pushed or Pulled by someone else. Apparently, the same rule applied to metals hidden within a kandra.

“I will deliver this to you in an emergency,” OreSeur said.

“Thank you,” Vin said.

“The Contract, Mistress. Do not give me thanks. I do only what I am required.”

Vin nodded slowly. “Let’s go back to the palace, then,” she said. “I want to check on Elend.”

9

MARSH HAD CHANGED. THERE WAS something… harder about the former Seeker. Something in the way he always seemed to be staring at things Sazed couldn’t see, something in his blunt responses and terse language.

Of course, Marsh had always been a straightforward man. Sazed eyed his friend as the two strode down the dusty highway. They had no horses; even if Sazed had possessed one, most beasts wouldn’t go near an Inquisitor.

What did Spook say that Marsh’s nickname was? Sazed thought to himself as they walked. Before his transformation, they used to call him… Ironeyes. The name that had turned out to be chillingly prophetic. Most of the others found Marsh’s transformed state discomforting, and had left him isolated. Though Marsh hadn’t seemed to mind the treatment, Sazed had made a special effort to befriend the man.

He still didn’t know if Marsh appreciated the gesture or not. They did seem to get along well; both shared an interest in scholarship and history, and both were interested in the religious climate of the Final Empire.

And, he did come looking for me, Sazed thought. Of course, he did claim that he wanted help in case the Inquisitors weren’t all gone from the Conventical of Seran. It was a weak excuse. Despite his powers as a Feruchemist, Sazed was no warrior.

“You should be in Luthadel,” Marsh said.

Sazed looked up. Marsh had spoken bluntly, as usual, without preamble. “Why do you say that?” Sazed asked.

“They need you there.”

“The rest of the Final Empire has need of me too, Marsh. I am a Keeper – one group of people should not be able to monopolize all of my time.”

Marsh shook his head. “These peasants, they will forget your passing. No one will forget the things that will soon happen in the Central Dominance.”

“You would be surprised, I think, at what men can forget. Wars and kingdoms may seem important now, but even the Final Empire proved mortal. Now that it has fallen, the Keepers have no business being involved in politics.” Most would say we never had any business being involved in politics at all.

Marsh turned toward him. Those eyes, sockets filled entirely with steel. Sazed did not shiver, but he felt distinctly uncomfortable.

“And your friends?” Marsh asked.

This touched on something more personal. Sazed looked away, thinking of Vin, and of his vow to Kelsier that he would protect her. She needs little protection now, he thought. She’s grown more adept at Allomancy than even Kelsier was. And yet, Sazed knew that there were modes of protection that didn’t relate to fighting. These things – support, counsel, kindness – were vital to every person, and most especially to Vin. So much rested on that poor girl’s shoulders.

“I have… sent help,” Sazed said. “What help I can.”

“Not good enough,” Marsh said. “The things happening in Luthadel are too important to ignore.”

“I am not ignoring them, Marsh,” Sazed said. “I am simply performing my duty as best I can.”

Marsh finally turned away. “The wrong duty. You will return to Luthadel once we are finished here.”

Sazed opened his mouth to argue, but said nothing. What was there to say? Marsh was right. Though he had no proof, Sazed knew that there were important things happening in Luthadel – things that would require his aid to fight. Things that likely affected the future of the entire land once known as the Final Empire.

So, he closed his mouth and trudged after Marsh. He would return to Luthadel, proving himself a rebel once again. Perhaps, in the end, he would realize that there was no ghostly threat facing the world – that he had simply returned because of his own selfish desire to be with his friends.

In fact, he hoped that proved to be the truth. The alternative made him very uncomfortable.

10

THE ASSEMBLY HALL WAS in the former Steel Ministry Canton of Finance headquarters. It was a low-ceilinged space, more of a large lecture room than an assembly hall. There were rows of benches fanning out in front of a raised stage. On the right side of the stage, Elend had constructed a tier of seats for the Assembly members. On the left of the stage, he had constructed a single lectern for speakers.

The lectern faced the Assemblymen, not the crowd. The common people were, however, encouraged to attend. Elend thought that everyone should be interested in the workings of their government; it pained him that the Assembly’s weekly meetings usually had a small audience.

Vin’s seat was on the stage, but at the back, directly opposite the audience. From her vantage with the other bodyguards, she would look past the lectern toward the crowd. Another row of Ham’s guards – in regular clothing – sat in the first row of the audience, providing a first line of protection. Elend had balked at Vin’s demands to having guards both in front of the stage and behind it – he thought that bodyguards sitting right behind the speakers would be distracting. Ham and Vin, however, had insisted. If Elend was going to stand up in front of a crowd every week, Vin wanted to be certain she could keep a close eye on him – and on those watching him.

Getting to her chair, therefore, required Vin to walk across the stage. Stares followed her. Some of the watching crowd were interested in the scandal; they assumed that she was Elend’s mistress, and a king sleeping with his personal assassin made for good gossip. Others were interested in the politics; they wondered how much influence Vin had over Elend, and whether they could use her to get the king’s ear. Still others were curious about the growing legends; they wondered if a girl like Vin could really have slain the Lord Ruler.

Vin hurried her pace. She passed the Assemblymen and found her seat next to Ham, who – despite the formal occasion – still wore a simple vest with no shirt. Sitting next to him in her trousers and shirt, Vin didn’t feel quite so out of place.

Ham smiled, clapping her affectionately on the shoulder. She had to force herself not to jump at the touch. It wasn’t that she disliked Ham – quite the opposite, actually. She loved him as she did all of the former members of Kelsier’s band. It was just that… well, she had trouble explaining it, even to herself. Ham’s innocent gesture made her want to squirm. It seemed to her that people shouldn’t be so casual with the way that they touched others.

She pushed those thoughts away. She had to learn to be like other people. Elend deserved a woman who was normal.

He was already there. He nodded to Vin as he noticed her arrival, and she smiled. Then he turned back to speaking quietly with Lord Penrod, one of the noblemen in the Assembly.

“Elend will be happy,” Vin whispered. “Place is packed.”

“They’re worried,” Ham said quietly. “And worried people pay more attention to things like this. Can’t say I’m happy – all these people make our job harder.”

Vin nodded, scanning the audience. The crowd was a strangely mixed one – a collection of different groups who would never have met together during the days of the Final Empire. A major part were noblemen, of course. Vin frowned, thinking of how often various members of the nobility tried to manipulate Elend, and of the promises he made to them…

“What’s that look for?” Ham asked, nudging her.

Vin eyed the Thug. Expectant eyes twinkled in his firm, rectangular face. Ham had an almost supernatural sense when it came to arguments.

Vin sighed. “I don’t know about this, Ham.”

“This?”

“This,” Vin said quietly, waving her hand at the Assembly. “Elend tries so hard to make everyone happy. He gives so much away – his power, his money…”

“He just wants to see that everyone is treated fairly.”

“It’s more than that, Ham,” Vin said. “It’s like he’s determined to make everyone a nobleman.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

“If everyone is a nobleman, then there is no such thing as a nobleman. Everyone can’t be rich, and everyone can’t be in charge. That’s just not the way things work.”

“Perhaps,” Ham said thoughtfully. “But, doesn’t Elend have a civic duty to try and make sure justice is served?”

Civic duty? Vin thought. I should have known better than to talk to Ham about something like this…

Vin looked down. “I just think he could see that everyone was treated well without having an Assembly. All they do is argue and try to take his power away. And he lets them.”

Ham let the discussion die, and Vin turned back to her study of the audience. It appeared that a large group of mill workers had arrived first and managed to get the best seats. Early in the Assembly’s history – perhaps ten months before – the nobility had sent servants to reserve seats for them, or had bribed people to give up their places. As soon as Elend had discovered this, however, he had forbidden both practices.

Other than the noblemen and the mill workers, there was a large number of the “new” class. Skaa merchants and craftsmasters, now allowed to set their own prices for their services. They were the true winners in Elend’s economy. Beneath the Lord Ruler’s oppressive hand, only the few most extraordinarily skilled skaa had been able to rise to positions of even moderate comfort. Without those restrictions, these same people had quickly proven to have abilities and acumen far above their noble counterparts’. They represented a faction in the Assembly at least as powerful as that of the nobility.

Other skaa peppered the crowd. They looked much the same as they had before Elend’s rise to power. While noblemen generally wore suits – complete with dayhats and coats – these skaa wore simple trousers. Some of them were still dirty from their day’s labor, their clothing old, worn, and stained with ash.

And yet… there was something different about them. It wasn’t in their clothing, but their postures. They sat a little straighter, their heads held a little higher. And they had enough free time to attend an Assembly meeting.

Elend finally stood to begin the meeting. He had let his attendants dress him this morning, and the result was attire that was almost completely free of dishevelment. His suit fit well, all the buttons were done up, and his vest was of an appropriate dark blue. His hair was even neatly styled, the short, brown curls lying flat.

Normally, Elend would begin the meeting by calling on other speakers, Assemblymen who would drone on for hours about various topics like taxation rates or city sanitation. However, this day, there were more pressing matters.

“Gentlemen,” Elend said. “I beg your leave to depart from our usual agenda this afternoon, in the light of our current… state of city affairs.”

The group of twenty-four Assemblymen nodded, a few muttering things under their breath. Elend ignored them. He was comfortable before crowds, far more comfortable than Vin would ever be. As he unrolled his speech, Vin kept one eye on the crowd, watching for reactions or problems.

“The dire nature of our situation should be quite obvious,” Elend said, beginning the speech he had prepared earlier. “We face a danger that this city has never known. Invasion and siege from an outside tyrant.

“We are a new nation, a kingdom founded on principles unknown during the days of the Lord Ruler. Yet, we are already a kingdom of tradition. Freedom for the skaa. Rule by our own choice and of our own design. Noblemen who don’t have to cower before the Lord Ruler’s obligators and Inquisitors.

“Gentlemen, one year is not enough. We have tasted freedom, and we need time to savor it. During the last month, we have frequently discussed and argued regarding what to do should this day arrive. Obviously, we are of many minds on the issue. Therefore, I ask for a vote of solidarity. Let us promise ourselves, and these people, that we will not give this city over to a foreign power without due consideration. Let us resolve to gather more information, to seek for other avenues, and even to fight should it be deemed necessary.”

The speech went on, but Vin had heard it a dozen times as Elend practiced it. As he spoke, she found herself eying the crowd. She was most worried about the obligators she saw sitting in the back. They showed little reaction to the negative light in which Elend’s remarks cast them.

She’d never understood why Elend allowed the Steel Ministry to continue teaching. It was the last real remnant of the Lord Ruler’s power. Most obligators obstinately refused to lend their knowledge of bureaucracy and administration to Elend’s government, and they still regarded skaa with contempt.

And yet, Elend let them remain. He maintained a strict rule that they were not allowed to incite rebellion or violence. However, he also didn’t eject them from the city, as Vin had suggested. Actually, if the choice had been solely hers, she probably would have executed them.

Eventually, Elend’s speech drew to a close, and Vin turned her attention back to him. “Gentlemen,” he said, “I make this proposal out of faith, and I make it in the names of those we represent. I ask for time. I propose that we forgo all votes regarding the future of the city until a proper royal delegation has been allowed to meet with the army outside and determine what, if any, opportunity there is for negotiations.”

He lowered his sheet, looking up, waiting for comments.

“So,” said Philen, one of the merchants on the Assembly. “You’re asking us to give you the power to decide the city’s fate.” Philen wore his rich suit so well that an observer would never have known that he’d first put one on about a year ago.

“What?” Elend asked. “I said nothing of the sort – I’m simply asking for more time. To meet with Straff.”

“He’s rejected all of our earlier messages,” said another Assemblyman. “What makes you think he’ll listen now?”

“We’re approaching this wrong!” said one of the noble representatives. “We should be resolving to beg Straff Venture not to attack, not resolving to meet with him and chat. We need to establish quickly that we’re willing to work with him. You’ve all seen that army. He’s planning to destroy us!”

“Please,” Elend said, raising a hand. “Let us stay on topic!”

One of the other Assemblymen – one of the skaa – spoke up, as if he hadn’t heard Elend. “You say that because you’re noble,” he said, pointing at the noble Elend had interrupted. “It’s easy for you to talk about working with Straff, since you’ve got very little to lose!”

“Very little to lose?” the nobleman said. “I and all of my house could be executed for supporting Elend against his father!”

“Bah,” said one of the merchants. “This is all pointless. We should have hired mercenaries months ago, as I’d suggested.”

“And where would we have gotten the funds for that?” asked Lord Penrod, senior of the noble Assemblymen.

“Taxes,” the merchant said with a wave of his hand.

“Gentlemen!” Elend said; then, louder, “Gentlemen!”

This garnered him some small measure of attention.

“We have to make a decision,” Elend said. “Stay focused, if you please. What of my proposal?”

“It’s pointless,” said Philen the merchant. “Why should we wait? Let’s just invite Straff into the city and be done. He’s going to take it anyway.”

Vin sat back as the men began to argue again. The problem was, the merchant Philen – as little as she liked him – had a point. Fighting was looking like a very unattractive option. Straff had such a large army. Would stalling really do that much good?

“Look, see,” Elend said, trying to get their attention again – and only partially succeeding. “Straff is my father. Maybe I could talk to him. Get him to listen? Luthadel was his home for years. Perhaps I can convince him not to attack it.”

“Wait,” said one of the skaa representatives. “What of the food issue? Have you seen what the merchants are charging for grain? Before we worry about that army, we should talk about bringing prices down.”

“Always blaming us for your problems,” one of the merchant Assemblymen said, pointing. And the squabbling began again. Elend slumped just slightly behind the lectern. Vin shook her head, feeling sorry for Elend as the discussion degenerated. This was what often happened at Assembly meetings; it seemed to her that they simply didn’t give Elend the respect he deserved. Perhaps that was his own fault, for elevating them to his near equals.

Finally, the discussion wound down, and Elend got out a piece of paper, obviously planning to record the vote on his proposal. He did not look optimistic.

“All right,” Elend said. “Let’s vote. Please remember – giving me time will not play our hand. It will simply give me a chance to try and make my father reconsider his desire to take our city away from us.”

“Elend, lad,” said Lord Penrod. “We all lived here during the Lord Ruler’s reign. We all know what kind of man your father is. If he wants this city, he is going to take it. All we can decide, then, is how to best give up. Perhaps we can find a way for the people to retain some freedom under his rule.”

The group sat quietly, and for the first time nobody brought up a new squabble. A few of them turned toward Penrod, who sat with a calm, in-control expression. Vin knew little of the man. He was one of the more powerful noblemen who had remained in the city after the Collapse, and he was politically conservative. However, she had never heard him speak derogatively of the skaa, which was probably why he was so popular with the people.

“I speak bluntly,” Penrod said, “for it is the truth. We are not in a position to bargain.”

“I agree with Penrod,” Philen said, jumping in. “If Elend wants to meet with Straff Venture, then I guess that’s his right. As I understand it, kingship grants him authority to negotiate with foreign monarchs. However, we don’t have to promise not to give Straff the city.”

“Master Philen,” Lord Penrod said. “I think you misjudged my intent. I said that giving up the city was inevitable – but that we should try to gain as much from it as possible. That means at least meeting with Straff to assess his disposition. Voting to give him the city now would be to play our hand too soon.”

Elend looked up, looking hopeful for the first time since the discussion had first degenerated. “So, you support my proposal?” he asked.

“It is an awkward way to achieve the pause I think necessary,” Penrod said. “But… seeing as how the army is already here, then I doubt we have time for anything else. So, yes, Your Majesty. I support your proposal.”

Several other members of the Assembly nodded as Penrod spoke, as if giving the proposal consideration for the first time. That Penrod has too much power, Vin thought, eyes narrowing as she regarded the elderly statesman. They listen to him more than they do Elend.

“Should we vote, then?” one of the other Assemblymen asked.

And they did. Elend recorded votes as they moved down the line of Assemblymen. The eight noblemen – seven plus Elend – voted for the proposal, giving Penrod’s opinion a great deal of weight. The eight skaa were mostly for it, and the merchants mostly against it. In the end, however, Elend got the two-thirds vote he needed.

“Proposal accepted,” Elend said, making the final tally, looking a bit surprised. “The Assembly divests itself of the right to surrender the city until after the king has met with Straff Venture in official parlay.”

Vin sat back in her seat, trying to decide what she thought of the vote. It was good that Elend had gotten his way, but the manner in which he’d achieved it bothered her.

Elend finally relinquished the lectern, sitting and letting a disgruntled Philen take the lead. The merchant read a proposal calling for a vote to turn control of city food stockpiles over to the merchants. However, this time Elend himself led the dissent, and the arguing began again. Vin watched with interest. Did Elend even realize how much like the others he acted while he was arguing against their proposals?

Elend and a few of the skaa Assemblymen managed to filibuster long enough that the lunch break arrived with no vote cast. The people in the audience stood, stretching, and Ham turned toward her. “Good meeting, eh?”

Vin just shrugged.

Ham chuckled. “We really have to do something about your ambivalence toward civic duty, kid.”

“I already overthrew one government,” Vin said. “I figure that takes care of my ‘civic duty’ for a while.”

Ham smiled, though he kept a wary eye on the crowd – as did Vin. Now, with everyone moving about, would be the perfect time for an attempt on Elend’s life. One person in particular caught her attention, and she frowned.

“Be back in a few seconds,” she said to Ham, rising.

“You did the right thing, Lord Penrod,” Elend said, standing beside the older nobleman, whispering quietly as break proceeded. “We need more time. You know what my father will do to this city if he takes it.”

Lord Penrod shook his head. “I didn’t do this for you, son. I did it because I wanted to make certain that fool Philen didn’t hand the city over before the nobility extracted promises from your father about our rights to title.”

“Now, see,” Elend said, holding up a finger. “There has to be another way! The Survivor would never have given this city away without a fight.”

Penrod frowned, and Elend paused, quietly cursing himself. The old lord was a traditionalist – quoting the Survivor at him would have little positive effect. Many of the noblemen felt threatened by Kelsier’s influence with the skaa.

“Just think about it,” Elend said, glancing to the side as Vin approached. She waved him away from the Assemblymen seats, and he excused himself. He crossed the stage, joining her. “What is it?” he asked quietly.

“Woman at the back,” Vin said quietly, eyes suspicious. “Tall one, in the blue.”

The woman in question wasn’t hard to find; she wore a bright blue blouse and colorful red skirt. She was middle-aged, of lean build, and had her waist-length hair pulled back in a braid. She waited patiently as people moved about the room.

“What about her?” Elend asked.

“Terris,” Vin said.

Elend paused. “You’re sure?”

Vin nodded. “Those colors… that much jewelry. She’s a Terriswoman for sure.”

“So?”

“So, I’ve never met her,” Vin said. “And she was watching you, just now.”

“People watch me, Vin,” Elend noted. “I am the king, after all. Besides, why should you have met her?”

“All of the other Terris people have come to meet me right after they enter the city,” Vin said. “I killed the Lord Ruler; they see me as the one that freed their homeland. But, I don’t recognize her. She hasn’t ever come thank me.”

Elend rolled his eyes, grabbing Vin by the shoulders and turning her away from the woman. “Vin, I feel it’s my gentlemanly duty to tell you something.”

Vin frowned. “What?”

“You’re gorgeous.”

Vin paused. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Elend said with a smile. “I’m just trying to distract you.”

Slowly, Vin relaxed, smiling slightly.

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, Vin,” Elend noted, “but you can be a bit paranoid at times.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Now, I happen to find it rather charming, but do you honestly think that a Terriswoman would try to kill me?”

“Probably not,” Vin admitted. “But, old habits…”

Elend smiled. Then, he glanced back at the Assemblymen, most of whom were speaking quietly in groups. They didn’t mix. Noblemen spoke with noblemen, merchants with merchants, skaa workers with other skaa workers. They seemed so fragmented, so obstinate. The simplest proposals sometimes met with arguments that could take hours.

They need to give me more time! he thought. Yet, even as he thought, he realized the problem. More time for what? Penrod and Philen had accurately attacked his proposal.

The truth was, the entire city was in over its head. Nobody really knew what to do about a superior invading force, least of all Elend. He just knew that they couldn’t give up. Not yet. There had to be a way to fight.

Vin was still looking to the side, out over the audience. Elend followed her gaze. “Still watching that Terriswoman?”

Vin shook her head. “Something else… something odd. Is that one of Clubs’s messengers?”

Elend paused, turning. Indeed, several soldiers were working their way through the crowd, approaching the stage. At the back of the room, people had begun whispering and shuffling, and some were already moving quickly out of the chamber.

Elend felt Vin stiffen in anxiety, and fear stabbed him. We’re too late. The army has attacked.

One of the soldiers finally reached the stage, and Elend rushed over. “What?” he asked. “Has Straff attacked?”

The soldier frowned, looking concerned. “No, my lord.”

Elend sighed slightly. “What, then?”

“My lord, it’s a second army. It just arrived outside the city.”

11

FOR THE SECOND TIME IN two days, Elend stood atop the Luthadel city wall, studying an army that had come to invade his kingdom. Elend squinted against the red afternoon sunlight, but he was no Tineye; he couldn’t make out details about the new arrival.

“Any chance they’re here to help us?” Elend asked hopefully, looking toward Clubs, who stood beside him.

Clubs just scowled. “They fly Cett’s banner. Remember him? Guy who sent eight Allomancer assassins to kill you two days back?”

Elend shivered in the chill autumn weather, glancing back out over the second army. It was making camp a good distance from Straff’s army, close to the Luth-Davn Canal, which ran out the west side of the River Channerel. Vin stood at Elend’s side, though Ham was off organizing things among the city guard. OreSeur, wearing the wolfhound’s body, sat patiently on the wall walk beneath Vin.

“How did we miss their approach?” Elend asked.

“Straff,” Clubs said. “This Cett came in from the same direction, and our scouts were focused on him. Straff probably knew about this other army a few days ago, but we had virtually no chance of seeing them.”

Elend nodded.

“Straff is setting up a perimeter of soldiers, watching the enemy army,” Vin said. “I doubt they’re friendly to each other.” She stood atop one of the sawtooth parapet crenels, feet positioned dangerously close to the wall’s edge.

“Maybe they’ll attack each other,” Elend said hopefully.

Clubs snorted. “I doubt it. They’re too evenly matched, though Straff might be a little stronger. I doubt Cett would take the chance by attacking him.”

“Why come, then?” Elend asked.

Clubs shrugged. “Maybe he hoped he’d beat Venture to Luthadel, and get to take it first.”

He spoke of the event – the capture of Luthadel – as if it were a given. Elend’s stomach twisted as he leaned against the battlement, looking out through a merlon. Vin and the others were thieves and skaa Allomancers – outcasts who had been hunted for most of their lives. Perhaps they were accustomed to dealing with this pressure – this fear – but Elend was not.

How did they live with the lack of control, the sense of inevitability? Elend felt powerless. What could he do? Flee, and leave the city to fend for itself? That, of course, was not an option. But, confronted with not one, but two armies preparing to destroy his city and take his throne, Elend found it hard to keep his hands steady as he gripped the rough stone of the battlement.

Kelsier would have found a way out of this, he thought.

“There!” Vin’s voice interrupted Elend’s thoughts. “What’s that?”

Elend turned. Vin was squinting, looking toward Cett’s army, using tin to see things that were invisible to Elend’s mundane eyes.

“Someone’s leaving the army,” Vin said. “Riding on horseback.”

“Messenger?” Clubs asked.

“Maybe,” Vin said. “He’s riding pretty fast…” She began to run from one stone tooth to the next, moving along the wall. Her kandra immediately followed, padding quietly across the wall beneath her.

Elend glanced at Clubs, who shrugged, and they began to follow. They caught up with Vin standing on the wall near one of the towers, watching the oncoming rider. Or, at least, Elend assumed that was what she watched – he still couldn’t see what she had.

Allomancy, Elend thought, shaking his head. Why couldn’t he have at least ended up with one power – even one of the weaker ones, like copper or iron?

Vin cursed suddenly, standing up straight. “Elend, that’s Breeze!”

“What!” Elend said. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! He’s being chased. Archers on horseback.”

Clubs cursed, waving to a messenger. “Send riders! Cut off his pursuit!”

The messenger dashed away. Vin, however, shook her head. “They won’t make it in time,” she said, almost to herself. “The archers will catch him, or at least shoot him. Even I couldn’t get there fast enough, not running. But, maybe…”

Elend frowned, looking up at her. “Vin, that’s way too far to jump – even for you.”

Vin glanced at him, smiled, then leaped off the wall.

Vin readied the fourteenth metal, duralumin. She had a reserve, but she didn’t burn it – not yet. I hope this works, she thought, seeking an appropriate anchor. The tower beside her had a reinforced iron bulwark on the top – that would work.

She Pulled on the bulwark, yanking herself up to the top of the tower. She immediately jumped again, Pushing herself up and out, angling into the air away from the wall. She extinguished all of her metals except for steel and pewter.

Then, still Pushing against the bulwark, she burned duralumin.

A sudden force smashed against her. It was so powerful, she was certain that only an equally powerful flash of pewter held her body together. She blasted away from the keep, hurtling through the sky as if tossed by some giant, invisible god. The air rushed by so quickly that it roared, and the pressure of sudden acceleration made it difficult to think.

She floundered, trying to regain control. She had, fortunately, picked her trajectory well: she was shooting right toward Breeze and his pursuers. Whatever Breeze had done, it had been enough to make someone extremely angry – for there were a full two dozen men charging after him, arrows nocked.

Vin fell, her steel and pewter completely burned away in that single duralumin-fueled flash of power. She grabbed a metal vial off her belt, downing its contents. However, as she tossed the vial away, she suddenly felt an odd sense of vertigo. She wasn’t accustomed to jumping during the day. It was strange to see the ground coming at her, strange not to have a mistcloak flapping behind her, strange not to have the mist…

The lead rider lowered his bow, taking sight at Breeze. Neither appeared to have noticed Vin, swooping down like a bird of prey above.

Well, not exactly swooping. Plummeting.

Suddenly snapped back to the moment, Vin burned pewter and threw a coin toward the quickly approaching ground. She Pushed against the coin, using it to slow her momentum and to nudge her to the side. She hit right between Breeze and the archers, landing with a jarring crash, throwing up dust and dirt.

The archer released his arrow.

Even as Vin rebounded, dirt spraying around her, she reached out and Pushed herself back into the air straight at the arrow. Then she Pushed against it. The arrowhead ripped backward – throwing out shards of wood as it split its own shaft in midair – then smacked directly into the forehead of the archer who had released it.

The man toppled from his mount. Vin landed from her rebound. She reached out, Pushing against the horseshoes of the two beasts behind the leader, causing the animals to stumble. The Push threw Vin backward into the air, and cries of equine pain sounded amid the crash of bodies hitting the ground.

Vin continued to Push, flying along the road just a few feet above the ground, quickly catching up with Breeze. The portly man turned in shock, obviously stunned to find Vin hanging in the air beside his galloping horse, her clothing flapping in the wind of her passage. She winked at him, then reached out and Pulled against the armor of another rider.

She immediately lurched in the air. Her body protested the sudden shift in momentum, but she ignored the twist of pain. The man she Pulled against managed to stay in his saddle – until Vin smashed into him feet-first, throwing him backward.

She landed on the black earth, the rider tumbling to the ground beside her. A short distance away, the remaining riders finally reined in their mounts, coming to an abrupt stop a few feet away.

Kelsier probably would have attacked. There were a lot of them, true, but they were wearing armor and their horses were shod. Vin, however, was not Kelsier. She had delayed the riders long enough for Breeze to get away. That was enough.

Vin reached out and Pushed against one of the soldiers, throwing herself backward, leaving the riders to gather their wounded. The soldiers, however, promptly pulled out stone-tipped arrows and nocked their bows.

Vin hissed in frustration as the group took sight. Well, friends, she thought, I suggest that you hang on tightly.

She Pushed slightly against them all, then burned duralumin. The sudden crash of force was expected – the wrench in her chest, the massive flare in her stomach, the howling wind. What she didn’t expect was the effect she’d have on her anchors. The blast of power scattered men and horses, throwing them into the air like leaves in the wind.

I’m going to have to be very careful with this, Vin thought, gritting her teeth and spinning herself in the air. Her steel and pewter were gone again, and she was forced to down her last metal vial. She’d have to start carrying more of those.

She hit the ground running, pewter keeping her from tripping despite her terrific speed. She slowed just slightly, letting the mounted Breeze catch up to her, then increased her pace to keep up with him. She dashed like a sprinter, letting pewter’s strength and balance keep her upright as she paced the tiring horse. The beast eyed her as they ran, seeming to display a hint of animal frustration to see a human matching it.

They reached the city a few moments later. Breeze reined in as the doors to Iron Gate began to open, but, rather than wait, Vin simply threw down a coin and Pushed, letting her forward momentum carry her toward the walls. As the gates swung open, she Pushed against their studs, and this second Push sent her sailing straight up. She just barely crested the battlements – passing between a pair of startled soldiers – before dropping over the other side. She landed in the courtyard, steadying herself with one hand against the cool stones, as Breeze entered through the gate.

Vin stood. Breeze patted his forehead with a handkerchief as he trotted his animal up beside her. He’d let his hair grow longer since she’d last seen him, and he kept it slicked back, its lower edges tickling his collar. It wasn’t graying yet, though he was in his mid-forties. He wore no hat – it had probably blown free – but he had on one of his rich suits and silken vests. They were powdered with black ash from his hurried ride.

“Ah, Vin, my dear,” Breeze said, breathing almost as deeply as his horse. “I must say, that was a timely arrival on your part. Impressively flamboyant as well. I do hate to force a rescue – but, well, if one is necessary, then it might as well happen with style.”

Vin smiled as he climbed down from the horse – proving he was hardly the most adroit man in the square – and stablehands arrived to care for the beast. Breeze wiped his brow again as Elend, Clubs, and OreSeur scrambled down the steps to the courtyard. One of the aides must have finally found Ham, for he ran up through the courtyard.

“Breeze!” Elend said, approaching and clasping arms with the shorter man.

“Your Majesty,” Breeze said. “You are in good health and good humor, I assume?”

“Health, yes,” Elend said. “Humor… well, there is an army crouching just outside my city.”

“Two armies, actually,” Clubs grumbled as he hobbled up.

Breeze folded up his handkerchief. “Ah, and dear Master Cladent. Optimistic as always, I see.”

Clubs snorted. To the side, OreSeur padded up to sit next to Vin.

“And Hammond,” Breeze said, eyeing Ham, who was smiling broadly. “I’d almost managed to delude myself into forgetting that you would be here when I returned.”

“Admit it,” Ham said. “You’re glad to see me.”

“See you, perhaps. Hear you, never. I had grown quite fond of my time spent away from your perpetual, pseudo-philosophical pratterings.”

Ham just smiled a little broader.

“I’m glad to see you, Breeze,” Elend said. “But your timing could have been a little better. I was hoping that you would be able to stop some of these armies from marching on us.”

“Stop them?” Breeze asked. “Now, why would I want to do that, my dear man? I did, after all, just spend three months working to get Cett to march his army down here.”

Elend paused, and Vin frowned to herself, standing just outside the group. Breeze looked rather pleased with himself – though that was, admittedly, rather common for him.

“So… Lord Cett’s on our side?” Elend asked hopefully.

“Of course not,” Breeze said. “He’s here to ravage the city and steal your presumed atium supply.”

“You,” Vin said. “You’re the one who has been spreading the rumors about the Lord Ruler’s atium stash, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” Breeze said, eyeing Spook as the boy finally arrived at the gates.

Elend frowned. “But… why?”

“Look outside your walls, my dear man,” Breeze said. “I knew that your father was going to march on Luthadel eventually – even my powers of persuasion wouldn’t have been enough to dissuade him. So, I began spreading rumors in the Western Dominance, then made myself one of Lord Cett’s advisors.”

Clubs grunted. “Good plan. Crazy, but good.”

“Crazy?” Breeze said. “My mental stability is no issue here, Clubs. The move was not crazy, but brilliant.”

Elend looked confused. “Not to insult your brilliance, Breeze. But… how exactly is bringing a hostile army to our city a good idea?”

“It’s basic negotiating strategy, my good man,” Breeze explained as a packman handed him his dueling cane, taken off the horse. Breeze used it to gesture westward, toward Lord Cett’s army. “When there are only two participants in a negotiation, one is generally stronger than the other. That makes things very difficult for the weaker party – which, in this case, would have been us.”

“Yes,” Elend said, “but with three armies, we’re still the weakest.”

“Ah,” Breeze said, holding up the cane, “but those other two parties are fairly even in strength. Straff is likely stronger, but Cett has a very large force. If either of those warlords risks attacking Luthadel, his army will suffer losses – enough losses that he won’t be able to defend himself from the third army. To attack us is to expose oneself.”

“And that makes this a standoff,” Clubs said.

“Exactly,” Breeze said. “Trust me, Elend my boy. In this case, two large, enemy armies are far better than a single large, enemy army. In a three-way negotiation, the weakest party actually has the most power – because his allegiance added to either of the other two will choose the eventual winner.”

Elend frowned. “Breeze, we don’t want to give our allegiance to either of these men.”

“I realize that,” Breeze said. “However, our opponents do not. By bringing a second army in, I’ve given us time to think. Both warlords thought they could get here first. Now that they’ve arrived at the same time, they’ll have to reevaluate. I’m guessing we’ll end up in an extended siege. A couple of months at least.”

“That doesn’t explain how we’re going to get rid of them,” Elend said.

Breeze shrugged. “I got them here – you get to decide what to do with them. And I’ll tell you, it was no easy task to make Cett arrive on time. He was due to come in a full five days before Venture. Fortunately, a certain… malady spread through camp a few days ago. Apparently, someone poisoned the main water supply and gave the entire camp diarrhea.”

Spook, standing behind Clubs, snickered.

“Yes,” Breeze said, eyeing the boy. “I thought you might appreciate that. You still an unintelligible nuisance, boy?”

“Wassing the where of not,” Spook said, smiling and slipping back into his Eastern street slang.

Breeze snorted. “You still make more sense than Hammond, half the time,” he mumbled, turning to Elend. “So, isn’t anyone going to send for a carriage to drive me back to the palace? I’ve been Soothing you ungrateful lot for the better part of five minutes – looking as tired and pathetic as I can – and not one of you has had the good graces to pity me!”

“You must be losing your touch,” Vin said with a smile. Breeze was a Soother – an Allomancer who could burn brass to calm another person’s emotions. A very skilled Soother – and Vin knew of none more skilled than Breeze – could dampen all of a person’s emotions but a single one, effectively making them feel exactly as he wanted.

“Actually,” Elend said, turning and looking back up at the wall, “I was hoping we could go back up on the wall and study the armies some more. If you spent time with Lord Cett’s force, then you could probably tell us a lot about it.”

“I can; I will; I am not going to climb those steps. Can’t you see how tired I am, man?”

Ham snorted, clapping Breeze on the shoulder – and throwing up a puff of dust. “How can you be tired? Your poor horse did all the running.”

“It was emotionally exhausting, Hammond,” Breeze said, rapping the larger man’s hand with his cane. “My departure was somewhat disagreeable.”

“What happened, anyway?” Vin asked. “Did Cett find out you were a spy?”

Breeze looked embarrassed. “Let’s just say that Lord Cett and I had a… falling-out.”

“Caught you in bed with his daughter, eh?” Ham said, earning a chuckle from the group. Breeze was anything but a ladies’ man. Despite his ability to play with emotions, he had expressed no interest in romance for as long as Vin had known him. Dockson had once noted that Breeze was just too focused on himself to consider such things.

Breeze simply rolled his eyes at Ham’s comment. “Honestly, Hammond. I think your jokes are getting worse as you age. One too many hits on the head while sparring, I suspect.”

Ham smiled, and Elend sent for a couple of carriages. While they waited, Breeze launched into a narrative of his travels. Vin glanced down at OreSeur. She still hadn’t found a good opportunity to tell the rest of the crew about the body change. Perhaps now that Breeze was back, Elend would hold a conference with his inner circle. That would be a good time. She had to be quiet about it, since she wanted the palace staff to think that she’d sent OreSeur away.

Breeze continued his story, and Vin looked back at him, smiling. Not only was Breeze a natural orator, but he had a very subtle touch with Allomancy. She could barely feel his fingers on her emotions. Once, she had found his intrusions offensive, but she was growing to understand that touching people’s emotions was simply part of who Breeze was. Just as a beautiful woman demanded attention by virtue of her face and figure, Breeze drew it by near unconscious use of his powers.

Of course, that didn’t make him any less a scoundrel. Getting others to do as he wished was one of Breeze’s main occupations. Vin just no longer resented him for using Allomancy to do it.

The carriage finally approached, and Breeze sighed in relief. As the vehicle pulled up, he eyed Vin, then nodded toward OreSeur. “What’s that?”

“A dog,” Vin said.

“Ah, blunt as ever, I see,” Breeze said. “And, why is it that you now have a dog?”

“I gave it to her,” Elend said. “She wanted one, so I bought it for her.”

“And you chose a wolfhound?” Ham asked, amused.

“You’ve fought with her before, Ham,” Elend said, laughing. “What would you have given her? A poodle?”

Ham chuckled. “No, I guess not. It fits, actually.”

“Though it’s almost as big as she is,” Clubs added, regarding her with a squinty-eyed look.

Vin reached down, resting her hand on OreSeur’s head. Clubs did have a point; she’d chosen a big animal, even for a wolfhound. He stood over three feet tall at the shoulder – and Vin knew from experience how heavy that body was.

“Remarkably well-behaved for a wolfhound,” Ham said, nodding. “You chose well, El.”

“Regardless,” Breeze said. “Can we please return to the palace? Armies and wolfhounds are all well and good, but I believe supper is more pressing at this point.”

“So, why didn’t we tell them about OreSeur?” Elend asked, as their carriage bumped its way back toward Keep Venture. The three of them had taken a carriage of their own, leaving the other four to follow in the other vehicle.

Vin shrugged. OreSeur sat on the seat across from her and Elend, quietly watching the conversation. “I’ll tell them eventually,” Vin said. “A busy city square didn’t seem the right place for the revelation.”

Elend smiled. “Keeping secrets is a hard habit to break, eh?”

Vin flushed. “I’m not keeping him secret, I’m just…” She trailed off, looking down.

“Don’t feel bad, Vin,” Elend said. “You lived a long time on your own, without anyone to trust. Nobody expects you to change overnight.”

“It hasn’t been one night, Elend,” she said. “It’s been two years.”

Elend laid a hand on her knee. “You’re getting better. The others talk about how much you’ve changed.”

Vin nodded. Another man would be afraid that I’m keeping secrets from him, too. Elend just tries to make me feel less guilty. He was a better man than she deserved.

“Kandra,” Elend said, “Vin says you do well at keeping up with her.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” OreSeur said. “These bones, though distasteful, are well equipped for tracking and quick movement.”

“And if she gets hurt?” Elend said. “Will you be able to pull her to safety?”

“Not with any speed, Your Majesty. I will, however, be able to go for aid. These bones have many limitations, but I will do my best to fulfill the Contract.”

Elend must have caught Vin’s raised eyebrow, for he chuckled. “He’ll do as he says, Vin.”

“The Contract is everything, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “It demands more than simple service. It requires diligence and devotion. It is the kandra. By serving it, we serve our people.”

Vin shrugged. The group fell silent, Elend pulling a book from his pocket, Vin leaning against him. OreSeur lay down, filling the entire seat opposite the humans. Eventually, the carriage rolled into the Venture courtyard, and Vin found herself looking forward to a warm bath. As they were climbing from the carriage, however, a guard rushed up to Elend. Tin allowed Vin to hear what the man said, even though he spoke before she could close the distance.

“Your Majesty,” the guard whispered, “our messenger reached you, then?”

“No,” Elend said with a frown as Vin walked over. The soldier gave her a look, but continued speaking; the soldiers all knew that Vin was Elend’s primary bodyguard and confidant. Still, the man looked oddly concerned when he saw her.

“We… ah, don’t want to be intrusive,” the soldier said. “That’s why we’ve kept this quiet. We were just wondering if… everything is all right.” He looked at Vin as he spoke.

“What is this about?” Elend asked.

The guard turned back toward the king. “The corpse in Lady Vin’s room.”

The “corpse” was actually a skeleton. One completely picked clean, without a hint of blood – or even tissue – marring its shiny white surfaces. A good number of the bones were broken, however.

“I’m sorry, Mistress,” OreSeur said, speaking low enough that only she could hear. “I assumed that you were going to dispose of these.”

Vin nodded. The skeleton was, of course, the one OreSeur had been using before she gave him the animal body. Finding the door unlocked – Vin’s usual sign that she wanted a room cleaned – the maids had entered. Vin had stashed the bones in a basket, intending to deal with them later. Apparently, the maids had decided to check and see what was in the basket, and been somewhat surprised.

“It’s all right, Captain,” Elend said to the young guard – Captain Demoux, second-in-command of the palace guard. Despite the fact that Ham shunned uniforms, this man seemed to take great pride in keeping his own uniform very neat and smart.

“You did well by keeping this quiet,” Elend said. “We knew about these bones already. They aren’t a reason for concern.”

Demoux nodded. “We figured it was something intentional.” He didn’t look at Vin as he spoke.

Intentional, Vin thought. Great. I wonder what this man thinks I did. Few skaa knew what kandra were, and Demoux wouldn’t know what to make of remains like these.

“Could you dispose of these quietly for me, Captain?” Elend asked, nodding to the bones.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” the guard said.

He probably assumes I ate the person or something, Vin thought with a sigh. Sucked the flesh right off his bones.

Which, actually, wasn’t that far from the truth.

“Your Majesty,” Demoux said. “Would you like us to dispose of the other body as well?”

Vin froze.

“Other one?” Elend asked slowly.

The guard nodded. “When we found this skeleton, we brought in some dogs to sniff about. The dogs didn’t turn up any killers, but they did find another body. Just like this one – a set of bones, completely cleaned of flesh.”

Vin and Elend shared a look. “Show us,” Elend said.

Demoux nodded, and led them out of the room, giving a few whispered orders to one of his men. The four of them – three humans and one kandra – traveled a short distance down the palace hallway, toward a less used section of visitors’ chambers. Demoux dismissed a soldier standing at a particular door, then led them inside.

“This body wasn’t in a basket, Your Majesty,” Demoux said. “It was stuffed in a back closet. We’d probably never have found it without the dogs – they picked up the scent pretty easily, though I can’t see how. These corpses are completely clean of flesh.”

And there it was. Another skeleton, like the first, sitting piled beside a bureau. Elend glanced at Vin, then turned to Demoux. “Would you excuse us, Captain?”

The young guard nodded, walking from the room and closing the door.

“Well?” Elend said, turning to OreSeur.

“I do not know where this came from,” the kandra said.

“But it is another kandra-eaten corpse,” Vin said.

“Undoubtedly, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “The dogs found it because of the particular scent our digestive juices leave on recently excreted bones.”

Elend and Vin shared a look.

“However,” OreSeur said, “it is probably not what you think. This man was probably killed far from here.”

“What do you mean?”

“They are discarded bones, Your Majesty,” OreSeur said. “The bones a kandra leaves behind…”

“After he finds a new body,” Vin finished.

“Yes, Mistress,” OreSeur said.

Vin looked at Elend, who frowned. “How long ago?” he asked. “Maybe the bones were left a year before, by my father’s kandra.”

“Perhaps, Your Majesty,” OreSeur said. But he sounded hesitant. He padded over, sniffing at the bones. Vin picked one up herself, holding it to her nose. With tin, she easily picked out a sharp scent that reminded her of bile.

“It’s very strong,” she said, glancing at OreSeur.

He nodded. “These bones haven’t been here long, Your Majesty. A few hours at most. Perhaps even less.”

“Which means we have another kandra somewhere in the palace,” Elend said, looking a bit sick. “One of my staff has been… eaten and replaced.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” OreSeur said. “There is no way to tell from these bones whom it could be, since these are the discards. The kandra would have taken the new bones, eating their flesh and wearing their clothing.”

Elend nodded, standing. He met Vin’s eyes, and she knew he was thinking the same thing she was. It was possible that a member of the palace staff had been replaced, which would mean a slight breach in security. There was a far more dangerous possibility, however.

Kandra were incomparable actors; OreSeur had imitated Lord Renoux so perfectly that even people who’d known him had been fooled. Such talent could have been used for the imitation of a maid or a servant. However, if an enemy had wanted to get a spy into Elend’s closed meetings, he would need to replace a person far more important.

It would be someone that we haven’t seen during the last few hours, Vin thought, dropping the bone. She, Elend, and OreSeur had been on the wall for most of the afternoon and evening – ever since the end of the Assembly meeting – but the city and palace had been in chaos since the second army had arrived. The messengers had had trouble finding Ham, and she still wasn’t certain where Dockson was. In fact, she hadn’t seen Clubs until he’d joined her and Elend on the wall just a bit before. And Spook had been the last to arrive.

Vin looked down at the pile of bones, feeling a sickening sense of unease. There was a very good chance that someone in their core team – a member of Kelsier’s former band – was now an impostor.