The Well of Ascension

39

STRAFF VENTURE RODE QUIETLY IN the misty twilight air. Though he would have preferred a carriage, he felt it important to travel by horseback and present a compelling image for the troops. Zane, not surprisingly, chose to walk. He sauntered along beside Straff’s horse, the two of them leading a group of fifty soldiers.

Even with the troops, Straff felt exposed. It wasn’t just the mists, and it wasn’t just the darkness. He could still remember her touch on his emotions.

“You’ve failed me, Zane,” Straff said.

The Mistborn looked up, and – burning tin – Straff could see a frown on his face. “Failed?”

“Venture and Cett still live. Beyond that, you sent a batch of my best Allomancers to their deaths.”

“I warned you that they might die,” Zane said.

“For a purpose, Zane,” Straff said sternly. “Why did you need a group of secret Allomancers if you were just going to send them on a suicide mission in the middle of a public gathering? You may assume our resources to be unlimited, but let me assure you – those six men cannot be replaced.”

It had taken Straff decades of work with his mistresses to gather so many hidden Allomancers. It had been pleasurable work, but work all the same. In one reckless gambit, Zane had destroyed a good third of Straff’s Allomancer children.

My children dead, our hand exposed, and that… creature of Elend’s still lives!

“I’m sorry, Father,” Zane said. “I thought that the chaos and crowded quarters would keep the girl isolated, and force her not to use coins. I really thought this would work.”

Straff frowned. He well knew that Zane thought himself more competent than his father; what Mistborn wouldn’t think such a thing? Only a delicate mixture of bribery, threats, and manipulation kept Zane under control.

Yet, no matter what Zane thought, Straff was no fool. He knew, at that moment, that Zane was hiding something. Why send those men to die? Straff thought. He must have intended them to fail – otherwise he would have helped them fight the girl.

“No,” Zane said softly, talking to himself as he sometimes did. “He’s my father…” He trailed off, then shook his head sharply. “No. Not them either.”

Lord Ruler, Straff thought, looking down at the muttering madman beside him. What have I gotten myself into? Zane was growing more unpredictable. Had he sent those men to die out of jealousy, out of lust for violence, or had he simply been bored? Straff didn’t think that Zane had turned on him, but it was difficult to tell. Either way, Straff didn’t like having to rely on Zane for his plans to work. He didn’t really like having to rely on Zane for anything.

Zane looked up at Straff, and stopped talking. He did a good job of hiding his insanity, most of the time. A good enough job that Straff sometimes forgot about it. Yet, it still lurked there, beneath the surface. Zane was as dangerous a tool as Straff had ever used. The protection provided by a Mistborn outweighed the danger of Zane’s insanity.

Barely.

“You needn’t worry, Father,” Zane said. “The city will still be yours.”

“It will never be mine as long as that woman lives,” Straff said. He shivered. Perhaps that’s what this was all about. Zane’s attack was so obvious that everyone in the city knows I was behind it, and when that Mistborn demon wakes, she will come after me in retribution.

But, if that were Zane’s goal, then why not just kill me himself? Zane didn’t make sense. He didn’t have to. That was, perhaps, one of the advantages of being insane.

Zane shook his head. “I think you will be surprised, Father. One way or another, you will soon have nothing to fear from Vin.”

“She thinks I tried to have her beloved king assassinated.”

Zane smiled. “No, I don’t think that she does. She’s far too clever for that.”

Too clever to see the truth? Straff thought. However, his tin-enhanced ears heard shuffling in the mists. He held up a hand, halting his procession. In the distance, he could just barely pick out the flickering blobs of wall-top torches. They were close to the city – uncomfortably close.

Straff’s procession waited quietly. Then, from the mists before them, a man on horseback appeared, accompanied by fifty soldiers of his own. Ferson Penrod.

“Straff,” Penrod said, nodding.

“Ferson.”

“Your men did well,” Penrod said. “I’m glad your son didn’t have to die. He’s a good lad. A bad king, but an earnest man.”

A lot of my sons died today, Ferson, Straff thought. The fact that Elend still lives isn’t fortunate – it’s irony.

“You are ready to deliver the city?” Straff asked.

Penrod nodded. “Philen and his merchants want assurances that they will have titles to match those Cett promised them.”

Straff waved a dismissive hand. “You know me, Ferson.” You used to practically grovel before me at parties every week. “I always honor business agreements. I’d be an idiot not to appease those merchants – they’re the ones who will bring me tax revenue from this dominance.”

Penrod nodded. “I’m glad we could come to an understanding, Straff. I don’t trust Cett.”

“I doubt you trust me,” Straff said.

Penrod smiled. “But I do know you, Straff. You’re one of us – a Luthadel nobleman. Besides, you have produced the most stable kingdom in the dominances. That’s all we’re looking for right now. A little stability for this people.”

“You almost sound like that fool son of mine.”

Penrod paused, then shook his head. “Your boy isn’t a fool, Straff. He’s just an idealist. In truth, I’m sad to see his little utopia fall.”

“If you are sad for him, Ferson, then you are an idiot, too.”

Penrod stiffened. Straff caught the man’s proud eyes, holding them with his stare, until Penrod looked down. The exchange was a simple one, mostly meaningless – but it did serve as a very important reminder.

Straff chuckled. “You’re going to have to get used to being a small fish again, Ferson.”

“I know.”

“Be cheerful,” Straff said. “Assuming this turnover of power happens as you promised, no one will have to end up dead. Who knows, maybe I’ll let you keep that crown of yours.”

Penrod looked up.

“For a long time, this land didn’t have kings,” Straff said quietly. “It had something greater. Well, I’m not the Lord Ruler – but I can be an emperor. You want to keep your crown and rule as a subject king under me?”

“That depends on the cost, Straff,” Penrod said carefully.

Not completely quelled, then. Penrod had always been clever; he’d been the most important nobleman to stay behind in Luthadel, and his gamble had certainly worked.

“The cost is exorbitant,” Straff said. “Ridiculously so.”

“The atium,” Penrod guessed.

Straff nodded. “Elend hasn’t found it, but it’s here, somewhere. I was the one who mined those geodes – my men spent decades harvesting them and bringing them to Luthadel. I know how much of it we harvested, and I know that nowhere near the same amount came back out in disbursements to the nobility. The rest is in that city, somewhere.”

Penrod nodded. “I’ll see what I can find, Straff.”

Straff raised an eyebrow. “You need to get back into practice, Ferson.”

Penrod paused, then bowed his head. “I’ll see what I can find, my lord.”

“Good. Now, what news did you bring of Elend’s mistress?”

“She collapsed after the fight,” Penrod said. “I employ a spy on the cooking staff, and she said she delivered a bowl of broth to Lady Vin’s room. It returned cold.”

Straff frowned. “Could this woman of yours slip the Mistborn something?”

Penrod paled slightly. “I… don’t think that would be wise, my lord. Besides, you know Mistborn constitutions.”

Perhaps she really is incapacitated, Straff thought. If we moved in… The chill of her touch on his emotions returned. Numbness. Nothingness.

“You needn’t fear her so, my lord,” Penrod said.

Straff raised an eyebrow. “I’m not afraid, I’m wary. I will not move into that city until my safety is assured – and until I move in, your city is in danger from Cett. Or, worse. What would happen if those koloss decide to attack the city, Ferson? I’m in negotiations with their leader, and he seems to be able to control them. For now. Have you ever seen the aftermath of a koloss slaughter?”

He probably hadn’t; Straff hadn’t until just recently. Penrod just shook his head. “Vin won’t attack you. Not if the Assembly votes to put you in command of the city. The transfer will be perfectly legal.”

“I doubt she cares about legality.”

“Perhaps,” Penrod said. “But Elend does. And, where he commands, the girl follows.”

Unless he has as little control over her as I have over Zane, Straff thought, shivering. No matter what Penrod said, Straff wasn’t going to take the city until that horrible creature was dealt with. In this, he could rely only on Zane.

And that thought frightened him almost as much as Vin did.

Without further discussion, Straff waved to Penrod, dismissing him. Penrod turned and retreated into the mists with his entourage. Even with his tin, Straff barely heard Zane land on the ground beside him. Straff turned, looking at the Mistborn.

“You really think he’d turn the atium over to you if he found it?” Zane asked quietly.

“Perhaps,” Straff said. “He has to know that he’d never be able to hold on to it – he doesn’t have the military might to protect a treasure like that. And, if he doesn’t give it to me… well, it would probably be easier to take the atium from him than it would be to find it on my own.”

Zane seemed to find the answer satisfactory. He waited for a few moments, staring into the mists. Then he looked at Straff, a curious expression on his face. “What time is it?”

Straff checked his pocket watch, something no Mistborn would carry. Too much metal. “Eleven seventeen,” he said.

Zane nodded, turning back to look at the city. “It should have taken effect by now.”

Straff frowned. Then he began to sweat. He flared tin, clamping his eyes shut. There! he thought, noticing a weakness inside of him. “More poison?” he asked, keeping the fear from his voice, forcing himself to be calm.

“How do you do it, Father?” Zane asked. “I thought for certain you’d missed this one. Yet, here you are, just fine.”

Straff was beginning to feel weak. “One doesn’t need to be Mistborn to be capable, Zane,” he snapped.

Zane shrugged, smiling in the haunting way only he could – keenly intelligent, yet eerily unstable. Then he just shook his head. “You win again,” he said, then shot upward into the sky, churning mists with his passing.

Straff immediately turned his horse, trying to maintain his decorum as he urged it back toward the camp. He could feel the poison. Feel it stealing his life. Feel it threatening him, overcoming him…

He went, perhaps, too quickly. It was difficult to maintain an air of strength when you were dying. Finally, he broke into a gallop. He left his startled guards behind, and they called in surprise, breaking into a jog to try and keep up.

Straff ignored their complaints. He kicked the horse faster. Could he feel the poison slowing his reactions? Which one had Zane used? Gurwraith? No, it required injection. Tompher, perhaps? Or… perhaps he had found one that Straff didn’t even know about.

He could only hope that wasn’t the case. For, if Straff didn’t know of the poison, then Amaranta probably wouldn’t know of it either, and wouldn’t be able to put the antidote into her catch-all healing potion.

The lights of camp illuminated the mists. Soldiers cried out as Straff approached, and he was nearly run through as one of his own men leveled a spear at the charging horse. Fortunately, the man recognized him in time. Straff rode the man down even as he turned aside his spear.

Straff charged right up to his tent. By now, his men were scattering, preparing as if for an invasion, or some other attack. There was no way he could hide this from Zane.

I wouldn’t be able to hide my death either.

“My lord!” a captain said, dashing up to him.

“Send for Amaranta,” Straff said, stumbling off his horse.

The soldier paused. “Your mistress, lord?” the man said, frowning. “Why–”

“Now!” Straff commanded, throwing back his tent flap, walking inside. He paused, legs trembling as the tent flap closed. He wiped his brow with a hesitant hand. Too much sweat.

Damn him! he thought with frustration. I have to kill him, contain him… I have to do something. I can’t rule like this!

But what? He’d sat up nights, he’d wasted days, trying to decide what to do about Zane. The atium he used to bribe the man no longer seemed a good motivator. Zane’s actions this day – slaughtering Straff’s children in an obviously hopeless attempt to kill Elend’s mistress – proved that he could no longer be trusted, even in a small way.

Amaranta arrived with surprising speed, and she immediately began mixing her antidote. Eventually, as Straff slurped down the horrid-tasting concoction – feeling its healing effects immediately – he came to an uneasy conclusion.

Zane had to die.

40

ELEND SAT BESIDE HER BED.

That comforted her. Though she slept fitfully, a piece of her knew that he was there, watching over her. It felt odd to be beneath his protective care, for she was the one who usually did the guarding.

So, when she finally woke, she wasn’t surprised to find him in the chair beside her bed, reading quietly by soft candlelight. As she came fully awake, she didn’t jump up, or search the room with apprehension. Instead, she sat up slowly, pulling the blanket up under her arms, then took a sip of the water that had been left for her beside the bed.

Elend closed the book and turned toward her, smiling. Vin searched those soft eyes, delving for hints of the horror she had seen before. The disgust, the terror, the shock.

He knew her for a monster. How could he smile so kindly?

“Why?” she asked quietly.

“Why what?” he asked.

“Why wait here?” she said. “I’m not dying – I remember that much.”

Elend shrugged. “I just wanted to be near you.”

She said nothing. A coal stove burned in the corner, though it needed more fuel. Winter was close, and it was looking to be a cold one. She wore only a nightgown; she’d asked the maids not to put one on her, but by then Sazed’s draught – to help her sleep – had already begun taking effect, and she hadn’t had the energy to argue.

She pulled the blanket closer. Only then did she realize something she should have noticed earlier. “Elend! You’re not wearing your uniform.”

He looked down at his clothing – a nobleman’s suit from his old wardrobe, with an unbuttoned maroon vest. The jacket was too big for him. He shrugged. “No need to continue the charade anymore, Vin.”

“Cett is king?” she asked with a sinking feeling.

Elend shook his head. “Penrod.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“I know,” he said. “We aren’t sure why the merchants betrayed Cett – but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Penrod is a far better choice anyway. Than either Cett, or me.”

“You know that’s not true.”

Elend sat back contemplatively. “I don’t know, Vin. I thought I was the better man. Yet, while I thought up all kinds of schemes to keep the throne from Cett, I never really considered the one plan that would have been certain to defeat him – that of giving my support to Penrod, combining our votes. What if my arrogance had landed us with Cett? I wasn’t thinking of the people.”

“Elend…” she said, laying a hand on his arm.

And he flinched.

It was slight, almost unnoticeable, and he covered it quickly. But the damage was done. Damage she had caused, damage within him. He had finally seen – really seen – what she was. He’d fallen in love with a lie.

“What?” he said, looking into her face.

“Nothing,” Vin said. She withdrew her hand. Inside, something cracked. I love him so much. Why? Why did I let him see? If only I’d had a choice!

He’s betraying you, Reen’s voice whispered in the back of her mind. Everyone will leave you eventually, Vin.

Elend sighed, glancing toward the shutters to her room. They were closed, keeping the mists out, though Vin could see the darkness beyond.

“The thing is, Vin,” he said quietly, “I never really thought it would end this way. I trusted them, right to the end. The people – the Assemblymen they chose – I trusted that they would do the right thing. When they didn’t choose me, I was actually surprised. I shouldn’t have been. We knew that I was the long shot. I mean, they had already voted me out once. But, I’d convinced myself that was just a warning. Inside, in my heart, I thought that they would reinstate me.”

He shook his head. “Now, I either have to admit that my faith in them was wrong, or I have to trust in their decision.”

That was what she loved: his goodness, his simple honesty. Things as odd and exotic to a skaa urchin as her own Mistborn nature must be to most people. Even among all the good men of Kelsier’s crew, even amid the best of the nobility, she had never found another man like Elend Venture. A man who would rather believe that the people who had dethroned him were just trying to do the right thing.

At times, she had felt a fool for falling in love with the first nobleman whom she grew to know. But now she realized that her love of Elend had not come about because of simple convenience or proximity. It had come because of who Elend was. The fact that she had found him first was an event of incredible fortune.

And now… it was over. At least, in the form it had once had. But, she’d known all along that it would turn out this way. That was why she’d refused his marriage proposal, now over a year old. She couldn’t marry him. Or, rather, she couldn’t let him marry her.

“I know that sorrow in your eyes, Vin,” Elend said softly.

She looked at him with shock.

“We can get past this,” he said. “The throne wasn’t everything. We might be better off this way, actually. We did our best. Now it’s someone else’s turn to try.”

She smiled wanly. He doesn’t know. He must never know how much this hurts. He’s a good man – he’d try to force himself to keep loving me.

“But,” he said, “you should get some more rest.”

“I feel fine,” Vin said, stretching slightly. Her side hurt, and her neck ached, but pewter burned within her, and none of her wounds were debilitating. “I need to–”

She cut herself off as a realization hit her. She sat upright, the sudden motion making her rigid with pain. The day before was a blur, but…

“OreSeur!” she said, pushing aside the blanket.

“He’s fine, Vin,” Elend said. “He’s a kandra. Broken bones mean nothing to him.”

She paused, half out of bed, suddenly feeling foolish. “Where is he?”

“Digesting a new body,” Elend said, smiling.

“Why the smile?” she asked.

“I’ve just never heard someone express that much concern for a kandra before.”

“Well, I don’t see why not,” Vin said, climbing back in bed. “OreSeur risked his life for me.”

“He’s a kandra, Vin,” Elend repeated. “I don’t think those men could have killed him; I doubt even a Mistborn could.”

Vin paused. Not even a Mistborn could… What bothered her about that statement? “Regardless,” she said. “He feels pain. He took two serious blows on my behalf.”

“Just fulfilling his Contract.”

His Contract… OreSeur had attacked a human. He had broken his Contract. For her.

“What?” Elend asked.

“Nothing,” Vin said quickly. “Tell me about the armies.”

Elend eyed her, but allowed the conversation to change directions. “Cett is still holed up in Keep Hasting. We’re not sure what his reaction will be. The Assembly didn’t choose him, which can’t be good. And yet, he hasn’t protested – he has to realize that he’s trapped in here now.”

“He must have really believed that we’d choose him,” Vin said, frowning. “Why else would he come into the city?”

Elend shook his head. “It was an odd move in the first place. Anyway, I have advised the Assembly to try and make a deal with him. I think he believes that the atium isn’t in the city, so there’s really no reason for him to want Luthadel.”

“Except for the prestige.”

“Which wouldn’t be worth losing his army,” Elend’s said. “Or his life.”

Vin nodded. “And your father?”

“Silent,” Elend said. “It’s strange, Vin. This isn’t like him – those assassins were so blatant. I’m not sure what to make of them.”

“The assassins,” Vin said, sitting back in the bed. “You’ve identified them?”

Elend shook his head. “Nobody recognizes them.”

Vin frowned.

“Maybe we aren’t as familiar with the noblemen out in the Northern Dominance as we thought we were.”

No, Vin thought. No, if they were from a city as close as Urteau – Straff’s home – some of them would be known, wouldn’t they? “I thought I recognized one of them,” Vin finally said.

“Which one?”

“The… last one.”

Elend paused. “Ah. Well, I guess we won’t be able to identify him now.”

“Elend, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“What?” Elend asked. “Vin, I’ve seen death before. I was forced to attend the Lord Ruler’s executions, remember?” He paused. “Not that what you did was like that, of course.”

Of course.

“You were amazing,” Elend said. “I’d be dead right now if you hadn’t stopped those Allomancers – and it’s likely that Penrod and the other Assemblymen would have fared the same. You saved the Central Dominance.”

We always have to be the knives…

Elend smiled, standing. “Here,” he said, walking to the side of the room. “This is cold, but Sazed said you should eat it when you awoke.” He returned with a bowl of broth.

“Sazed sent it?” Vin asked skeptically. “Drugged, then?”

Elend smiled. “He warned me not to taste it myself – he said it was filled with enough sedatives to knock me out for a month. It takes a lot to affect you pewter burners.”

He set the bowl on the bedstand. Vin eyed it through narrowed eyes. Sazed was probably worried that, despite her wounds, she’d go out and prowl the city if she were left on her own. He was probably right. With a sigh, Vin accepted the bowl and began to sip at it.

Elend smiled. “I’ll send someone to bring you more coal for the stove,” he said. “There are some things I need to do.”

Vin nodded, and he left, pulling the door shut behind him.

When Vin next awoke, she saw that Elend was still there. He stood in the shadows, watching her. It was still dark outside. The shutters to her window were open, and mist coated the floor of the room.

The shutters were open.

Vin sat upright and turned toward the figure in the corner. It wasn’t Elend. “Zane,” she said flatly.

He stepped forward. It was so easy to see the similarities between him and Elend, now that she knew what to look for. They had the same jaw, the same wavy dark hair. They even had similar builds, now that Elend had been exercising.

“You sleep too soundly,” Zane said.

“Even a Mistborn’s body needs sleep to heal.”

“You shouldn’t have been hurt in the first place,” Zane said. “You should have been able to kill those men with ease, but you were distracted by my brother, and by trying to keep the people of the room from harm. This is what he’s done to you – he’s changed you, so that you no longer see what needs to be done, you just see what he wants you to do.”

Vin raised an eyebrow, quietly feeling beneath her pillow. Her dagger was there, fortunately. He didn’t kill me in my sleep, she thought. That has to be a good sign.

He took another step forward. She tensed. “What is your game, Zane?” she said. “First, you tell me that you’ve decided not to kill me – then you send a group of assassins. What now? Have you come to finish the job?”

“We didn’t send those assassins, Vin,” Zane said quietly.

Vin snorted.

“Believe as you wish,” Zane said, taking another step forward so that he stood right beside her bed, a tall figure of blackness and solemnity. “But, my father is still terrified of you. Why would he risk retribution by trying to kill Elend?”

“It was a gamble,” Vin said. “He hoped those assassins would kill me.”

“Why use them?” Zane asked. “He has me – why use a bunch of Mistings to attack you in the middle of a crowded room, when he could just have me use atium in the night and kill you?”

Vin hesitated.

“Vin,” he said, “I watched the corpses being carried away from the Assembly Hall, and I recognized some of them from Cett’s entourage.”

That’s it! Vin thought. That’s where I saw that Thug whose face I smashed! He was at Keep Hasting, peeking out from the kitchen while we ate with Cett, pretending to be a servant.

“But, the assassins attacked Cett too…” Vin trailed off. It was basic thieving strategy: if you had a front that you wanted to escape suspicion as you burgled the shops around it, you made certain to “steal” from yourself as well.

“The assassins who attacked Cett were all normal men,” Vin said. “No Allomancers. I wonder what he told them – that they’d be allowed to ‘surrender’ once the battle turned? But why fake an attack in the first place? He was favored for the throne.”

Zane shook his head. “Penrod made a deal with my father, Vin. Straff offered the Assembly wealth beyond anything Cett could provide. That’s why the merchants changed their votes. Cett must have gotten wind of their betrayal. He has spies enough in the city.”

Vin sat, dumbfounded. Of course! “And the only way that Cett could see to win…”

“Was to send the assassins,” Zane said with a nod. “They were to attack all three candidates, killing Penrod and Elend, but leaving Cett alive. The Assembly would assume that they’d been betrayed by Straff, and Cett would become king.”

Vin gripped her knife with a shaking hand. She was growing tired of games. Elend had almost died. She had almost failed.

Part of her, a burning part, wanted to do what she’d first been inclined to. To go out and kill Cett and Straff, to remove the danger the most efficient way possible.

No, she told herself forcefully. No, that was Kelsier’s way. It’s not my way. It’s not… Elend’s way.

Zane turned away, facing toward her window, staring at the small waterfall-like flow of mist spilling through. “I should have arrived sooner to the fight. I was outside, with the crowds that came too late to get a seat. I didn’t even know what was happening until the people started piling out.”

Vin raised an eyebrow. “You almost sound sincere, Zane.”

“I have no wish to see you dead,” he said, turning. “And I certainly don’t want to see harm befall Elend.”

“Oh?” Vin asked. “Even though he’s the one who had all the privileges, while you were despised and kept locked away?”

Zane shook his head. “It isn’t like that. Elend is… pure. Sometimes – when I hear him speak – I wonder if I would have become like him, if my childhood had been different.”

He met her eyes in the dark room. “I’m… broken, Vin. Maddened. I can never be like Elend. But, killing him wouldn’t change me. It’s probably best that he and I were raised apart – it’s far better that he doesn’t know about me. Better that he remain as he is. Untainted.”

“I…” Vin floundered. What could she say? She could see actual sincerity in Zane’s eyes.

“I’m not Elend,” Zane said. “I never will be – I’m not a part of his world. But, I don’t think that I should be. Neither should you. After the fighting was done, I finally got into the Assembly Hall. I saw Elend standing over you, at the end. I saw the look in his eyes.”

She turned away.

“It’s not his fault that he is what he is,” Zane said. “As I said, he’s pure. But, that makes him different from us. I’ve tried to explain it to you. I wish you could have seen that look in his eyes…”

I saw it, Vin thought. She didn’t want to remember it, but she had seen it. That awful look of horror, a reaction to something terrible and alien, something beyond understanding.

“I can’t be Elend,” Zane said quietly, “but you don’t want me to be.” He reached over and dropped something on her bedstand. “Next time, be prepared.”

Vin snatched the object as Zane began to walk toward the window. The ball of metal rolled in her palm. The shape was bumpy, but the texture was smooth – like a nugget of gold. She knew it without having to swallow it. “Atium?”

“Cett may send other assassins,” Zane said, hopping up onto the windowsill.

“You’re giving it to me?” she asked. “There’s enough here for a good two minutes of burning!” It was a small fortune, easily worth twenty thousand boxings before the Collapse. Now, with the scarcity of atium…

Zane turned back toward her. “Just keep yourself safe,” he said, then launched himself out into the mists.

Vin did not like being injured. Logically, she knew that other people probably felt the same way; after all, who would enjoy pain and debilitation? Yet, when the others got sick, she sensed frustration from them. Not terror.

When sick, Elend would spend the day in bed, reading books. Clubs had taken a bad blow during practice several months before, and he had grumbled about the pain, but had stayed off his leg for a few days without much prodding.

Vin was growing to be more like them. She could lie in bed as she did now, knowing that nobody would try to slit her throat while she was too weak to call for help. Still, she itched to rise, to show that she wasn’t very badly wounded. Lest someone think otherwise, and try to take advantage.

It isn’t like that anymore! she told herself. It was light outside, and though Elend had been back to visit several times, he was currently away. Sazed had come to check on her wounds, and had begged her to stay in bed for “at least one more day.” Then he’d gone back to his studies. With Tindwyl.

What ever happened to those two hating each other? she thought with annoyance. I barely get to see him.

Her door opened. Vin was pleased that her instincts were still keen enough that she immediately grew tense, reaching for her daggers. Her pained side protested the sudden motion.

Nobody entered.

Vin frowned, still tense, until a canine head popped up over the top of her footboard. “Mistress?” said a familiar, half growl of a voice.

“OreSeur?” Vin said. “You’re wearing another dog’s body!”

“Of course, Mistress,” OreSeur said, hopping up onto the bed. “What else would I have?”

“I don’t know,” Vin said, putting away her daggers. “When Elend said you’d had him get you a body, I just assumed that you’d asked for a human. I mean, everyone saw my ‘dog’ die.”

“Yes,” OreSeur said, “but it will be simple to explain that you got a new animal. You are expected to have a dog with you now, and so not having one would provoke notice.”

Vin sat quietly. She’d changed back to trousers and shirt, despite Sazed’s protests. Her dresses hung in the other room, one noticeably absent. At times, when she looked at them, she thought she saw the gorgeous white gown hanging there, sprayed with blood. Tindwyl had been wrong: Vin couldn’t be both Mistborn and lady. The horror she had seen in the eyes of the Assemblymen was enough proof for her.

“You didn’t need to take a dog’s body, OreSeur,” Vin said quietly. “I’d rather that you were happy.”

“It is all right, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “I have grown… fond of these kinds of bones. I should like to explore their advantages a little more before I return to human ones.”

Vin smiled. He’d chosen another wolfhound – a big brute of a beast. The colorings were different: more black than gray, without any patches of white. She approved.

“OreSeur…” Vin said, looking away. “Thank you for what you did for me.”

“I fulfill my Contract.”

“I’ve been in other fights,” Vin said. “You never intervened in those.”

OreSeur didn’t answer immediately. “No, I didn’t.”

“Why this time?”

“I did what felt right, Mistress,” OreSeur said.

“Even if it contradicted the Contract?”

OreSeur sat up proudly on his haunches. “I did not break my Contract,” he said firmly.

“But you attacked a human.”

“I didn’t kill him,” OreSeur said. “We are cautioned to stay out of combat, lest we accidentally cause a human death. Indeed, most of my brethren think that helping someone kill is the same as killing, and feel it is a breach of the Contract. The words are distinct, however. I did nothing wrong.”

“And if that man you tackled had broken his neck?”

“Then I would have returned to my kind for execution,” OreSeur said.

Vin smiled. “Then you did risk your life for me.”

“In a small way, I suppose,” OreSeur said. “The chances of my actions directly causing that man’s death were slim.”

“Thank you anyway.”

OreSeur bowed his head in acceptance.

“Executed,” Vin said. “So you can be killed?”

“Of course, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “We aren’t immortal.”

Vin eyed him.

“I will say nothing specific, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “As you might imagine, I would rather not reveal the weaknesses of my kind. Please suffice it to say that they exist.”

Vin nodded, but frowned in thought, bringing her knees up to her chest. Something was still bothering her, something about what Elend had said earlier, something about OreSeur’s actions…

“But,” she said slowly, “you couldn’t have been killed by swords or staves, right?”

“Correct,” OreSeur said. “Though our flesh looks like yours, and though we feel pain, beating us has no permanent effect.”

“Then why are you afraid?” Vin said, finally lighting upon what was bothering her.

“Mistress?”

“Why did your people make the Contract?” Vin asked. “Why subjugate yourselves to mankind? If our soldiers couldn’t hurt you, then why even worry about us?”

“You have Allomancy,” OreSeur said.

“So, Allomancy can kill you?”

“No,” OreSeur said, shaking his canine head. “It cannot. But, perhaps we should change the topic. I’m sorry, Mistress. This is very dangerous ground for me.”

“I understand,” Vin said, sighing. “It’s just so frustrating. There’s so much I don’t know – about the Deepness, about the legal politics… even about my own friends!” She sat back, looking up at the ceiling. And there’s still a spy in the palace. Demoux or Dockson, likely. Maybe I should just order them both taken and held for a time? Would Elend even do such a thing?

OreSeur was watching her, apparently noting her frustration. Finally, he sighed. “Perhaps there are some things I can speak of, Mistress, if I am careful. What do you know of the origin of the kandra?”

Vin perked up. “Nothing.”

“We did not exist before the Ascension,” he said.

“You mean to say that the Lord Ruler created you?”

“That is what our lore teaches,” OreSeur said. “We are not certain of our purpose. Perhaps we were to be Father’s spies.”

“Father?” Vin said. “It seems strange to hear him spoken of that way.”

“The Lord Ruler created us, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “We are his children.”

“And I killed him,” Vin said. “I… feel like I should apologize.”

“Just because he is our Father does not mean we accepted everything he did, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “Cannot a human man love his father, yet not believe he is a good person?”

“I suppose.”

“Kandra theology about Father is complex,” OreSeur said. “Even for us, it is difficult to sort through it sometimes.”

Vin frowned. “OreSeur? How old are you?”

“Old,” he said simply.

“Older than Kelsier?”

“Much,” OreSeur. “But not as old as you are thinking. I do not remember the Ascension.”

Vin nodded. “Why tell me all of this?”

“Because of your original question, Mistress. Why do we serve the Contract? Well, tell me – if you were the Lord Ruler, and had his power, would you have created servants without building into them a way that you could control them?”

Vin nodded slowly in understanding.

“Father took little thought of the kandra from about the second century after his Ascension,” OreSeur said. “We tried to be independent for a time, but it was as I explained, humankind resented us. Feared us. And, some of them knew of our weaknesses. When my ancestors considered their options, they eventually chose voluntary servitude as opposed to forced slavery.”

He created them, Vin thought. She had always shared a bit of Kelsier’s view regarding the Lord Ruler – that he was more man than deity. But, if he’d truly created a completely new species, then there had to have been some divinity in him.

The power of the Well of Ascension, she thought. He took it for himself – but it didn’t last. It must have run out, and quickly. Otherwise, why would he have needed armies to conquer?

An initial burst of power, the ability to create, to change – perhaps to save. He’d pushed back the mists, and in the process he’d somehow made the ash begin to fall and the sky turn red. He’d created the kandra to serve him – and probably the koloss, too. He might even have created Allomancers themselves.

And after that, he had returned to being a normal man. Mostly. The Lord Ruler had still held an inordinate amount of power for an Allomancer, and had managed to keep control of his creations – and he had somehow kept the mists from killing.

Until Vin had slain him. Then the koloss had begun to rampage, and the mists had returned. The kandra hadn’t been beneath his control at that time, so they remained as they were. But, he built into them a method of control, should he need it. A way to make the kandra serve him…

Vin closed her eyes, and quested out lightly with her Allomantic senses. OreSeur had said that kandra couldn’t be affected by Allomancy – but she knew something else about the Lord Ruler, something that had distinguished him from other Allomancers. His inordinate power had allowed him to do things he shouldn’t have been able to.

Things like pierce copperclouds, and affect metals inside of a person’s body. Maybe that was how he controlled the kandra, the thing that OreSeur was speaking of. The reason they feared Mistborn.

Not because Mistborn could kill them, but because Mistborn could do something else. Enslave them, somehow. Tentatively, testing what he’d said earlier, Vin reached out with a Soothing and touched OreSeur’s emotions. Nothing happened.

I can do some of the same things as the Lord Ruler, she thought. I can pierce copperclouds. Perhaps, if I just Push harder…

She focused, and Pushed on his emotions with a powerful Soothing. Again, nothing happened. Just as he’d told her. She sat for a moment. And then, impulsively, she burned duralumin and tried one final, massive Push.

OreSeur immediately let out a howl so bestial and unexpected that Vin jumped to her feet in shock, flaring pewter.

OreSeur fell to the bed, shaking.

“OreSeur!” she said, dropping to her knees, grabbing his head. “I’m sorry!”

“Said too much…” he muttered, still shaking. “I knew I’d said too much.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Vin said.

The shaking subsided, and OreSeur fell still for a moment, breathing quietly. Finally, he pulled his head out of her arms. “What you meant is immaterial, Mistress,” he said flatly. “The mistake was mine. Please, never do that again.”

“I promise,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, crawling off the bed. “You shouldn’t even have been able to do it. There are strange things about you, Mistress – you are like the Allomancers of old, before the passage of generations dulled their powers.”

“I’m sorry,” Vin said again, feeling helpless. He saved my life, nearly broke his Contract, and I do this to him…

OreSeur shrugged. “It is done. I need to rest. I suggest that you do the same.”

41

“ ‘I WRITE THIS RECORD NOW,’ ” Sazed read out loud, “ ‘pounding it into a metal slab, because I am afraid. Afraid for myself, yes – I admit to being human. If Alendi does return from the Well of Ascension, I am certain that my death will be one of his first objectives. He is not an evil man, but he is a ruthless one. That is, I think, a product of what he has been through.’ ”

“That fits what we know of Alendi from the logbook,” Tindwyl said. “Assuming that Alendi is that book’s author.”

Sazed glanced at his pile of notes, running over the basics in his mind. Kwaan had been an ancient Terris scholar. He had discovered Alendi, a man he began to think – through his studies – might be the Hero of Ages, a figure from Terris prophecy. Alendi had listened to him, and had become a political leader. He had conquered much of the world, then traveled north to the Well of Ascension. By then, however, Kwaan had apparently changed his mind about Alendi – and had tried to stop him from getting to the Well.

It fit together. Even though the logbook author never mentioned his own name, it was obvious that he was Alendi. “It is a very safe assumption, I think,” Sazed said. “The logbook even speaks of Kwaan, and the falling-out they had.”

They sat beside each other in Sazed’s rooms. He had requested, and received, a larger desk to hold their multitudinous notes and scribbled theories. Beside the door sat the remnants of their afternoon meal, a soup they had hurriedly gulped down. Sazed itched to take the dishes down to the kitchens, but he hadn’t been able to pull himself away yet.

“Continue,” Tindwyl requested, sitting back in her chair, looking more relaxed than Sazed had ever seen her. The rings running down the sides of her ears alternated in color – a gold or copper followed by a tin or iron. It was such a simple thing, but there was a beauty to it.

“Sazed?”

Sazed started. “I apologize,” he said, then turned back to his reading. “ ‘I am also afraid, however, that all I have known – that my story – will be forgotten. I am afraid for the world that may come. Afraid because my plans failed. Afraid of a doom brought by the Deepness.’ ”

“Wait,” Tindwyl said. “Why did he fear that?”

“Why would he not?” Sazed asked. “The Deepness – which we assume is the mist – was killing his people. Without sunlight, their crops would not grow, and their animals could not graze.”

“But, if Kwaan feared the Deepness, then he should not have opposed Alendi,” Tindwyl said. “He was climbing to the Well of Ascension to defeat the Deepness.”

“Yes,” Sazed said. “But by then, Kwaan was convinced that Alendi wasn’t the Hero of Ages.”

“But why would that matter?” Tindwyl said. “It didn’t take a specific person to stop the mists – Rashek’s success proves that. Here, skip to the end. Read that passage about Rashek.”

“ ‘I have a young nephew, one Rashek,’ ” Sazed read. “ ‘He hates all of Khlennium with the passion of envious youth. He hates Alendi even more acutely – though the two have never met – for Rashek feels betrayed that one of our oppressors should have been chosen as the Hero of Ages.

“ ‘Alendi will need guides through the Terris mountains. I have charged Rashek with making certain that he and his trusted friends are chosen as those guides. Rashek is to try and lead Alendi in the wrong direction, to discourage him or otherwise foil his quest. Alendi won’t know that he has been deceived.

“ ‘If Rashek fails to lead Alendi astray, then I have instructed the lad to kill my former friend. It is a distant hope. Alendi has survived assassins, wars, and catastrophes. And yet, I hope that in the frozen mountains of Terris, he may finally be exposed. I hope for a miracle.

“ ‘Alendi must not reach the Well of Ascension. He must not take the power for himself.’ ”

Tindwyl sat back, frowning.

“What?”

“Something is wrong there, I think,” she said. “But I cannot tell you precisely what.”

Sazed scanned the text again. “Let us break it down to simple statements, then. Rashek – the man who became the Lord Ruler – was Kwaan’s nephew.”

“Yes,” Tindwyl said.

“Kwaan sent Rashek to mislead, or even kill, his once-friend Alendi the Conqueror – a man climbing the mountains of Terris to seek the Well of Ascension.”

Tindwyl nodded.

“Kwaan did this because he feared what would happen if Alendi took the Well’s power for himself.”

Tindwyl raised a finger. “Why did he fear that?”

“It seems a rational fear, I think,” Sazed said.

“Too rational,” Tindwyl replied. “Or, rather, perfectly rational. But, tell me, Sazed. When you read Alendi’s logbook, did you get the impression that he was the type who would take that power for himself?”

Sazed shook his head. “Actually, the opposite. That is part of what made the logbook so confusing – we couldn’t figure out why the man represented within would have done as we assumed he must have. I think that is part of what eventually led Vin to guess that the Lord Ruler wasn’t Alendi at all, but Rashek, his packman.”

“And Kwaan says that he knew Alendi well,” Tindwyl said. “In fact, in this very rubbing, he compliments the man on several occasions. Calls him a good person, I believe.”

“Yes,” Sazed said, finding the passage. “ ‘He is a good man – despite it all, he is a good man. A sacrificing man. In truth, all of his actions – all of the deaths, destructions, and pains that he has caused – have hurt him deeply.’ ”

“So, Kwaan knew Alendi well,” Tindwyl said. “And thought highly of him. He also, presumably, knew his nephew Rashek well. Do you see my problem?”

Sazed nodded slowly. “Why send a man of wild temperament, one whose motivations are based on envy and hatred, to kill a man you thought to be good and of worthy temperament? It does seem an odd choice.”

“Exactly,” Tindwyl said, resting her arms on the table.

“But,” Sazed said, “Kwaan says right here that he ‘doubts that if Alendi reaches the Well of Ascension, he will take the power and then – in the name of the greater good – give it up.’ ”

Tindwyl shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense, Sazed. Kwaan wrote several times about how he feared the Deepness, but then he tried to foil the hope of stopping it by sending a hateful youth to kill a respected, and presumably wise, leader. Kwaan practically set up Rashek to take the power – if letting Alendi take the power was such a concern, wouldn’t he have feared that Rashek might do the same?”

“Perhaps we simply see things with the clarity of those regarding events that have already occurred,” Sazed said.

Tindwyl shook her head. “We’re missing something, Sazed. Kwaan is a very rational, even deliberate, man – one can tell that from his narrative. He was the one who discovered Alendi, and was the first to tout him as the Hero of Ages. Why would he turn against him as he did?”

Sazed nodded, flipping through his translation of the rubbing. Kwaan had gained much notoriety by discovering the Hero. He found the place he was looking for.

There was a place for me in the lore of the Anticipation, the text read. I thought myself the Announcer, the prophet foretold to discover the Hero of Ages. Renouncing Alendi then would have been to renounce my new position, my acceptance, by the others.

“Something dramatic must have happened,” Tindwyl said. “Something that would make him turn against his friend, the source of his own fame. Something that pricked his conscience so sharply that he was willing to risk opposing the most powerful monarch in the land. Something so frightening that he took a ridiculous chance by sending this Rashek on an assassination mission.”

Sazed leafed through his notes. “He fears both the Deepness and what would happen if Alendi took the power. Yet, he cannot seem to decide which one is the greater threat, and neither seems more present in the narrative than the other. Yes, I can see the problem here. Do you think, perhaps, Kwaan was trying to imply something by the inconsistency in his own arguments?”

“Perhaps,” Tindwyl said. “The information is just so slim. I cannot judge a man without knowing the context of his life!”

Sazed looked up, eyeing her. “Perhaps we have been studying too hard,” he said. “Shall we take a break?”

Tindwyl shook her head. “We don’t have the time, Sazed.”

He met her eyes. She was right on that point.

“You sense it too, don’t you?” she asked.

He nodded. “This city will soon fall. The forces pressing upon it… the armies, the koloss, the civil confusion…”

“I fear it will be more violent than your friends hope, Sazed,” Tindwyl said quietly. “They seem to believe that they can just continue to juggle their problems.”

“They are an optimistic group,” he said with a smile. “Unaccustomed to being defeated.”

“This will be worse than the revolution,” Tindwyl said. “I have studied these things, Sazed. I know what happens when a conqueror takes a city. People will die. Many people.”

Sazed felt a chill at her words. There was a tension to Luthadel; war was coming to the city. Perhaps one army or another would enter by the blessing of the Assembly, but the other would still strike. The walls of Luthadel would run red when the siege finally ended.

And he feared that end was coming very, very soon.

“You are right,” he said, turning back to the notes on his desktop. “We must continue to study. We should collect more of what we can find about the land before the Ascension, so that you may have the context you seek.”

She nodded, showing a fatalistic resolve. This was not a task they could complete in the time they had. Deciphering the meaning of the rubbing, comparing it to the logbook, and relating it to the context of the period was a scholarly undertaking that would require the determined work of years.

Keepers had much knowledge – but in this case, it was almost too much. They had been gathering and transmitting records, stories, myths, and legends for so long that it took years for one Keeper to recite the collected works to a new initiate.

Fortunately, included with the mass of information were indexes and summaries created by the Keepers. On top of this came the notes and personal indexes each individual Keeper made. And yet, these only helped the Keeper understand just how much information he had. Sazed himself had spent his life reading, memorizing, and indexing religions. Each night, before he slept, he read some portion of a note or story. He was probably the world’s foremost scholar on pre-Ascension religions, and yet he felt as if he knew so little.

Compounding all of that was the inherent unreliability of their information. A great deal of it came from the mouths of simple people, doing their best to remember what their lives had once been like – or, more often, what the lives of their grandparents had once been like. The Keepers hadn’t been founded until late in the second century of the Lord Ruler’s reign. By then, many religions had already been wiped out in their pure forms.

Sazed closed his eyes, dumped another index from a coppermind into his head, then began to search it. There wasn’t much time, true, but Tindwyl and he were Keepers. They were accustomed to beginning tasks that others would have to finish.

Elend Venture, once king of the Central Dominance, stood on the balcony of his keep, overlooking the vast city of Luthadel. Though the first snows had yet to fall, the weather had grown cold. He wore an overcloak, tied at the front, but it didn’t protect his face. A chill tingled his cheeks as a wind blew across him, whipping at his cloak. Smoke rose from chimneys, gathering like an ominous shadow above the city before rising up to meld with the ashen red sky.

For every house that produced smoke, there were two that did not. Many of those were probably deserted; the city held nowhere near the population it once had. However, he knew that many of those smokeless houses were still inhabited. Inhabited, and freezing.

I should have been able to do more for them, Elend thought, eyes open to the piercing cold wind. I should have found a way to get more coal; I should have managed to provide for them all.

It was humbling, even depressing, to admit that the Lord Ruler had done better than Elend himself. Despite being a heartless tyrant, the Lord Ruler had at least kept a significant portion of the population from starving or freezing. He had kept armies in check, and had kept crime at a manageable level.

To the northeast, the koloss army waited. It had sent no emissaries to the city, but it was more frightening than either Cett’s or Straff’s armies. The cold wouldn’t scare away its occupants; despite their bare skin, they apparently took little notice of weather changes. This final army was the most disturbing of the three – more dangerous, more unpredictable, and impossible to deal with. Koloss did not bargain.

We haven’t been paying enough attention to that threat, he thought as he stood on the balcony. There’s just been so much to do, so much to worry about, that we couldn’t focus on an army that might be as dangerous to our enemies as it is to us.

It was looking less and less likely that the koloss would attack Cett or Straff. Apparently, Jastes was enough in control to keep them waiting to take a shot at Luthadel itself.

“My lord,” said a voice from behind. “Please, come back in. That’s a fell wind. No use killing yourself from a chill.”

Elend turned back. Captain Demoux stood dutifully in the room, along with another bodyguard. In the aftermath of the assassination attempt, Ham had insisted that Elend go about guarded. Elend hadn’t complained, though he knew there was little reason for caution anymore. Straff wouldn’t want to kill him now that he wasn’t king.

So earnest, Elend thought, studying Demoux’s face. Why do I find him youthful? We’re nearly the same age.

“Very well,” Elend said, turning and striding into the room. As Demoux closed the balcony doors, Elend removed his cloak. The suit below felt wrong on him. Sloppy, even though he had ordered it cleaned and pressed. The vest was too tight – his practice with the sword was slowly modifying his body – while the coat hung loosely.

“Demoux,” Elend said. “When is your next Survivor rally?”

“Tonight, my lord.”

Elend nodded. He’d feared that; it would be a cold night.

“My lord,” Demoux said, “do you still intend to come?”

“Of course,” Elend said. “I gave my word that I would join with your cause.”

“That was before you lost the vote, my lord.”

“That is immaterial,” Elend said. “I am joining your movement because it is important to the skaa, Demoux, and I want to understand the will of my… of the people. I promised you dedication – and you shall have it.”

Demoux seemed a bit confused, but spoke no further. Elend eyed his desk, considering some studying, but found it hard to motivate himself in the chill room. Instead, he pushed open the door and strode out into the hallway. His guards followed.

He stopped himself from turning toward Vin’s rooms. She needed her rest, and it didn’t do her much good to have him peeking in every half hour to check on her. So instead he turned to wander down a different passageway.

The back hallways of Keep Venture were tight, dark, stone constructions of labyrinthine complexity. Perhaps it was because he’d grown up in these passages, but he felt at home in their dark, secluded confines. They had been the perfect place for a young man who didn’t really care to be found. Now he used them for another reason; the corridors provided a perfect place for extended walking. He didn’t point himself in any particular direction, he just moved, working out his frustration to the beating of his own footsteps.

I can’t fix the city’s problems, he told himself. I have to let Penrod handle that – he’s the one the people want.

That should have made things easier for Elend. It let him focus on his own survival, not to mention let him spend time revitalizing his relationship with Vin. She, however, seemed different lately. Elend tried to tell himself it was just her injury, but he sensed something deeper. Something in the way she looked at him, something in the way she reacted to his affection. And, despite himself, he could think of only one thing that had changed.

He was no longer king.

Vin was not shallow. She had shown him nothing but devotion and love during their two years together. And yet, how could she not react – even if unconsciously – to his colossal failure? During the assassination attempt, he had watched her fight. Really watched her fight, for the first time. Until that day, he hadn’t realized just how amazing she was. She wasn’t just a warrior, and she wasn’t just an Allomancer. She was a force, like thunder or wind. The way she had killed that last man, smashing his head with her own…

How could she love a man like me? he thought. I couldn’t even hold my throne. I wrote the very laws that deposed me.

He sighed, continuing to walk. He felt like he should be scrambling, trying to figure out a way to convince Vin that he was worthy of her. But that would just make him seem more incompetent. There was no correcting past mistakes, especially since he could see no real “mistakes” he had made. He had done the best he could, and that had proven insufficient.

He paused at an intersection. Once, a relaxing dip into a book would have been enough to calm him. Now he felt nervous. Tense. A little… like he assumed Vin usually felt.

Maybe I could learn from her, he thought. What would Vin do in my situation? She certainly wouldn’t just wander around, brooding and feeling sorry for herself. Elend frowned, looking down a hallway lighted by flickering oil lamps, only half of them lit. Then he took off, waking with a determined stride toward a particular set of rooms.

He knocked quietly, and got no response. Finally, he poked his head in. Sazed and Tindwyl sat quietly before a desk piled high with scraps of paper and ledgers. They both sat staring, as if at nothing, their eyes bearing the glazedover look of someone who had been stunned. Sazed’s hand rested on the table. Tindwyl’s rested on top of it.

Sazed shook himself alert suddenly, turning to regard Elend. “Lord Venture! I am sorry. I did not hear you enter.”

“It’s all right, Saze,” Elend said, walking into the room. As he did, Tindwyl shook awake as well, and she removed her hand from Sazed’s. Elend nodded to Demoux and his companion – who were still following – indicating that they should remain outside, then closed the door.

“Elend,” Tindwyl said, her voice laced with its typical undercurrent of displeasure. “What is your purpose in bothering us? You have already proven your incompetence quite soundly – I see no need for further discussion.”

“This is still my home, Tindwyl,” Elend replied. “Insult me again, and you will find yourself ejected from the premises.”

Tindwyl raised an eyebrow.

Sazed paled. “Lord Venture,” he said quickly, “I don’t think that Tindwyl meant to–”

“It’s all right, Sazed,” Elend said, raising a hand. “She was just testing to see if I had reverted back to my previous state of insultability.”

Tindwyl shrugged. “I have heard reports of your moping through the palace hallways like a lost child.”

“Those reports are true,” Elend said. “But that doesn’t mean that my pride is completely gone.”

“Good,” Tindwyl said, nodding to a chair. “Seat yourself, if you wish.”

Elend nodded, pulling the chair over before the two and sitting. “I need advice.”

“I’ve given you what I can already,” Tindwyl said. “In fact, I’ve perhaps given you too much. My continued presence here makes it seem that I’m taking sides.”

“I’m not king anymore,” Elend said. “Therefore, I have no side. I’m just a man seeking truth.”

Tindwyl smiled. “Ask your questions, then.”

Sazed watched the exchange with obvious interest.

I know, Elend thought, I’m not sure I understand our relationship either. “Here is my problem,” he said. “I lost the throne, essentially, because I wasn’t willing to lie.”

“Explain,” Tindwyl said.

“I had a chance to obscure a piece of the law,” Elend said. “At the last moment, I could have made the Assembly take me as king. Instead, I gave them a bit of information that was true, but which ended up costing me the throne.”

“I’m not surprised,” Tindwyl said.

“I doubted that you would be,” Elend said. “Now, do you think I was foolish to do as I did?”

“Yes.”

Elend nodded.

“But,” Tindwyl said, “that moment isn’t what cost you the throne, Elend Venture. That moment was a small thing, far too simple to credit with your large-scale failure. You lost the throne because you wouldn’t command your armies to secure the city, because you insisted on giving the Assembly too much freedom, and because you don’t employ assassins or other forms of pressure. In short, Elend Venture, you lost the throne because you are a good man.”

Elend shook his head. “Can you not be both a man who follows his conscience and a good king, then?”

Tindwyl frowned in thought.

“You ask an age-old question, Elend,” Sazed said quietly. “A question that monarchs, priests, and humble men of destiny have always asked. I do not know that there is an answer.”

“Should I have told the lie, Sazed?” Elend asked.

“No,” Sazed said, smiling. “Perhaps another man should have, in your same position. But, a man must be cohesive with himself. You have made your decisions in life, and changing yourself at the last moment – telling this lie – would have been against who you are. It is better for you to have done as you did and lost the throne, I think.”

Tindwyl frowned. “His ideals are nice, Sazed. But what of the people? What if they die because Elend wasn’t capable of controlling his own conscience?”

“I do not wish to argue with you, Tindwyl,” Sazed said. “It is simply my opinion that he chose well. It is his right to follow his conscience, then trust in providence to fill in the holes caused by the conflict between morality and logic.”

Providence. “You mean God,” Elend said.

“I do.”

Elend shook his head. “What is God, Sazed, but a device used by obligators?”

“Why do you make the choices that you do, Elend Venture?”

“Because they’re right,” Elend said.

“And why are these things right?”

“I don’t know,” Elend said with a sigh, leaning back. He caught a disapproving glance from Tindwyl at his posture, but he ignored her. He wasn’t king; he could slouch if he wanted to. “You talk of God, Sazed, but don’t you preach of a hundred different religions?”

“Three hundred, actually,” Sazed said.

“Well, which one do you believe?” Elend asked.

“I believe them all.”

Elend shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. You’ve only pitched a half-dozen to me, but I can already see that they’re incompatible.”

“It is not my position to judge truth, Lord Venture,” Sazed said, smiling. “I simply carry it.”

Elend sighed. Priests… he thought. Sometimes, talking to Sazed is like talking to an obligator.

“Elend,” Tindwyl said, her tone softening. “I think you handled this situation in the wrong way. However, Sazed does have a point. You were true to your own convictions, and that is a regal attribute, I think.”

“And what should I do now?” he asked.

“Whatever you wish,” Tindwyl said. “It was never my place to tell you what to do. I simply gave you knowledge of what men in your place did in the past.”

“And what would they have done?” Elend asked. “These great leaders of yours, how would they have reacted to my situation?”

“It is a meaningless question,” she said. “They would not have found themselves in this situation, for they would not have lost their titles in the first place.”

“Is that what it’s about, then?” Elend asked. “The title?”

“Isn’t that what we were discussing?” Tindwyl asked.

Elend didn’t answer. What do you think makes a man a good king? he had once asked of Tindwyl. Trust, she had replied. A good king is one who is trusted by his people – and one who deserves that trust.

Elend stood up. “Thank you, Tindwyl,” he said.

Tindwyl frowned in confusion, then turned to Sazed. He looked up and met Elend’s eyes, cocking his head slightly. Then he smiled. “Come, Tindwyl,” he said. “We should return to our studies. His Majesty has work to do, I think.”

Tindwyl continued to frown as Elend left the room. His guards followed behind as he quickly strode down the hallway.

I won’t go back to the way I was, Elend thought. I won’t continue to fret and worry. Tindwyl taught me better than that, even if she never really understood me.

Elend arrived at his rooms a few moments later. He stalked directly in, then opened his closet. The clothing Tindwyl had chosen for him – the clothing of a king – waited inside.

42

“GOOD,” ELEND SAID, USING A charcoal stick to circle another section on the city map before him. “What about here?”

Demoux scratched his chin. “Grainfield? That’s a nobleman’s neighborhood, my lord.”

“It used to be,” Elend said. “Grainfield was filled with cousin houses to the Ventures. When my father pulled out of the city, so did most of them.”

“Then we’ll probably find the homes filled with skaa transients, I’d guess.”

Elend nodded. “Move them out.”

“Excuse me, my lord?” Demoux said. The two stood in Keep Venture’s large carriage landing. Soldiers moved in a bustle through the spacious room. Many of them didn’t wear uniforms; they weren’t on official city business. Elend was no longer king, but they had still come at his request.

That said something, at least.

“We need to move the skaa out of those homes,” Elend continued. “Noblemen’s houses are mostly stone mansions with a lot of small rooms. They’re extremely hard to heat, requiring a separate hearth or a stove for every room. The skaa tenements are depressing, but they have massive hearths and open rooms.”

Demoux nodded slowly.

“The Lord Ruler couldn’t have his workers freezing,” Elend said. “Those tenements are the best way to efficiently look after a large population of people with limited resources.”

“I understand, my lord,” Demoux said.

“Don’t force them, Demoux,” Elend said. “My personal guard – even augmented with army volunteers – has no official authority in the city. If a family wants to stay in their pilfered aristocratic house, let them. Just make certain that they know there’s an alternative to freezing.”

Demoux nodded, then moved over to pass on the commands. Elend turned as a messenger arrived. The man had to weave his way through an organized jumble of soldiers receiving orders and making plans.

Elend nodded to the newcomer. “You’re on the demolitions scout group, correct?”

The man nodded as he bowed. He wasn’t in uniform; he was a soldier, not one of Elend’s guards. He was a younger man, with a square jaw, balding head, and honest smile.

“Don’t I know you?” Elend said.

“I helped you a year ago, my lord,” the man said. “I led you into the Lord Ruler’s palace to help rescue Lady Vin…”

“Goradel,” Elend said, remembering. “You used to be in the Lord Ruler’s personal guard.”

The man nodded. “I joined up in your army after that day. Seemed like the thing to do.”

Elend smiled. “Not my army anymore, Goradel, but I do appreciate you coming to help us today. What’s your report?”

“You were right, my lord,” Goradel said, “the skaa have already robbed the empty homes for furniture. But, not many thought of the walls. A good half of the abandoned mansions have wooden walls on the inside, and a lot of the tenements were made of wood. Most all of them have wooden roofs.”

“Good,” Elend said. He surveyed the gathering mass of men. He hadn’t told them his plans; he’d simply asked for volunteers to help him with some manual labor. He hadn’t expected the response to number in the hundreds.

“It looks like we’re gathering quite a group, my lord,” Demoux said, rejoining Elend.

Elend nodded, giving leave for Goradel to withdraw. “We’ll be able to try an even more ambitious project than I’d planned.”

“My lord,” Demoux said. “Are you certain you want to start tearing the city down around ourselves?”

“We either lose buildings or we lose people, Demoux,” Elend said. “The buildings go.”

“And if the king tries to stop us?”

“Then we obey,” Elend said. “But I don’t think Lord Penrod will object. He’s too busy trying to get a bill through the Assembly that hands the city over to my father. Besides, it’s probably better for him to have these men here, working, than it is to have them sitting and worrying in the barracks.”

Demoux fell silent. Elend did as well; both knew how precarious their position was. Only a short time had passed since the assassination attempt and the transfer of power, and the city was in shock. Cett was still holed up inside of Keep Hasting, and his armies had moved into position to attack the city. Luthadel was like a man with a knife pressed very closely to his throat. Each breath cut the skin.

I can’t do much about that now, Elend thought. I have to make certain the people don’t freeze these next few nights. He could feel the bitter cold, despite the daylight, his cloak, and the shelter. There were a lot of people in Luthadel, but if he could get enough men tearing down enough buildings, he just might be able to do some good.

“My lord!”

Elend turned as a short man with a drooping mustache approached. “Ah, Felt,” he said. “You have news?” The man was working on the poisoned-food problem – specifically how the city was being breached.

The scout nodded. “I do indeed, my lord. We interrogated the refugees with a Rioter, and we came up dry. Then, however, I started thinking. The refugees seemed too obvious to me. Strangers in the city? Of course they’d be the first ones we’d suspect. I figured, with how much has been going wrong with the wells and the food and the like, someone has to be sneaking in and out of the city.”

Elend nodded. They’d been watching Cett’s soldiers inside Keep Hasting very carefully, and none of them was responsible. Straff’s Mistborn was still a possibility, but Vin had never believed that he was behind the poisoning. Elend hoped that the trail – if it could be found – would lead back to someone in his own palace, hopefully revealing who on his serving staff had been replaced by a kandra.

“Well?” Elend asked.

“I interrogated the people who run passwalls,” Felt continued. “I don’t think they’re to blame.”

“Passwalls?”

Felt nodded. “Covert passages out of the city. Tunnels or the like.”

“Such things exist?” Elend asked with surprise.

“Of course, my lord,” Felt said. “Moving between cities was very difficult for skaa thieves during the Lord Ruler’s reign. Everyone who entered Luthadel was subject to interview and interrogation. So, ways to get into the city covertly were very prevalent. Most of those have shut down – the ones who used to lower people up and down by ropes over the walls. A few are still running, but I don’t think they are letting the spies in. Once that first well was poisoned, the passwalls all got paranoid that you’d come after them. Since then, they’ve only been letting people out of the city – ones who want to run from the besieged city and the like.”

Elend frowned. He wasn’t certain what he thought of the fact that people were disobeying his order that the gates be shut, with no passage out.

“Next,” Felt said, “I tried the river.”

“We thought of that,” Elend said. “The grates covering the water are all secure.”

Felt smiled. “That they are. I sent some men down under the water to search about, and we found several locks down below, keeping the river grates in place.”

“What?”

“Someone pried the grates free, my lord,” Felt said, “then locked them back into place so it wouldn’t look suspicious. That way, they could swim in and out at their leisure.”

Elend raised an eyebrow.

“You want us to replace the grates?” Felt asked.

“No,” Elend said. “No, just replace those locks with new ones, then post men to watch. Next time those prisoners try and get into the city, I want them to find themselves trapped.”

Felt nodded, retreating with a happy smile on his face. His talents as a spy hadn’t been put to much good use lately, and he seemed to be enjoying the tasks Elend was giving him. Elend made a mental note to think about putting Felt to work on locating the kandra spy – assuming, of course, that Felt himself wasn’t the spy.

“My lord,” Demoux said, approaching. “I think I might be able to offer a second opinion on how the poisonings are occurring.”

Elend turned. “Oh?”

Demoux nodded, waving for a man to approach from the side of the room. He was younger, perhaps eighteen, and had the dirty face and clothing of a skaa worker.

“This is Larn,” Demoux said. “A member of my congregation.”

The young man bowed to Elend, posture nervous.

“You may speak, Larn,” Demoux said. “Tell Lord Venture what you saw.”

“Well, my lord,” the young man said. “I tried to go tell this to the king. The new king, I mean.” He flushed, embarrassed.

“It’s all right,” Elend said. “Continue.”

“Well, the men there turned me away. Said the king didn’t have time for me. So, I came to Lord Demoux. I figured he might believe me.”

“About what?” Elend asked.

“Inquisitor, my lord,” the man said quietly. “I saw one in the city.”

Elend felt a chill. “You’re sure?”

The young man nodded. “I’ve lived in Luthadel all my life, my lord. Watched executions a number of times. I’d recognize one of those monsters, sure I would. I saw him. Spikes through the eyes, tall and robed, slinking about at night. Near the center squares of the city. I promise you.”

Elend shared a look with Demoux.

“He’s not the only one, my lord,” Demoux said quietly. “Some other members of my congregation claimed to have seen an Inquisitor hanging around Kredik Shaw. I dismissed the first few, but Larn, he’s trustworthy. If he said he saw something, he did. Eyes nearly as good as a Tineye, that one.”

Elend nodded slowly, and ordered a patrol from his personal guard to keep watch in the area indicated. After that, he turned his attention back to the wood-gathering effort. He gave the orders, organizing the men into teams, sending some to begin working, others to gather recruits. Without fuel, many of the city’s forges had shut down, and the workers were idle. They could use something to occupy their time.

Elend saw energy in the men’s eyes as they began to split up. Elend knew that determination, that firmness of eye and arm. It came from the satisfaction of doing something, of not just sitting around and waiting for fate – or kings – to act.

Elend turned back to the map, making a few notations. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ham saunter in. “So this is where they all went!” Ham said. “The sparring grounds are empty.”

Elend looked up, smiling.

“You’re back to the uniform, then?” Ham asked.

Elend glanced down at his white outfit. Designed to stand out, to set him apart from a city stained by ash. “Yes.”

“Too bad,” Ham said with a sigh. “Nobody should have to wear a uniform.”

Elend raised an eyebrow. In the face of undeniable winter, Ham had finally taken to wearing a shirt beneath his vest. He wore no cloak or coat, however.

Elend turned back to the map. “The clothing suits me,” he said. “It just feels right. Anyway, that vest of yours is as much a uniform as this is.”

“No it’s not.”

“Oh?” Elend asked. “Nothing screams Thug like a man who goes about in the winter without a coat, Ham. You’ve used your clothing to change how people react to you, to let them know who you are and what you represent – which is essentially what a uniform does.”

Ham paused. “That’s an interesting way of looking at it.”

“What?” Elend said. “You never argued about something like this with Breeze?”

Ham shook his head as he turned to look over the groups of men, listening to the men Elend had appointed to give orders.

He’s changed, Elend thought. Running this city, dealing with all of this, it’s even changed him. The Thug was more solemn, now – more focused. Of course, he had even more stake in the city’s safety than the rest of the crew. It was sometimes hard to remember that the free-spirited Thug was a family man. Ham tended to not talk much about Mardra or his two children. Elend suspected it was habit; Ham had spent much of his marriage living apart from his family in order to keep them safe.

This whole city is my family, Elend thought, watching the soldiers leave to do their work. Some might have thought something as simple as gathering firewood to be a mundane task, of little relevance in a city threatened by three armies. However, Elend knew that the freezing skaa people would receive the fuel with as much appreciation as they would salvation from the armies.

The truth was that Elend felt a little like his soldiers did. He felt a satisfaction – a thrill even – from doing something, anything, to help.

“What if Cett’s attack comes?” Ham said, still looking over the soldiers. “A good portion of the army will be out scattered through the city.”

“Even if we have a thousand men in my teams, that’s not much of a dent in our forces. Besides, Clubs thinks there will be plenty of time to gather them. We’ve got messengers set up.”

Elend looked back at his map. “Anyway, I don’t think Cett’s going to attack just yet. He’s pretty safe in that keep, there. We’ll never take him – we’d have to pull too many men away from the city defenses, leaving ourselves exposed. The only thing he really has to worry about is my father…”

Elend trailed off.

“What?” Ham said.

“That’s why Cett is here,” Elend said, blinking in surprise. “Don’t you see? He intentionally left himself without options. If Straff attacks, Cett’s armies will end up fighting alongside our own. He’s locked in his fate with ours.”

Ham frowned. “Seems like a pretty desperate move.”

Elend nodded, thinking back to his meeting with Cett. “ ‘Desperate,’ ” he said. “That’s a good word. Cett is desperate for some reason – one I haven’t been able to figure out. Anyway, by putting himself in here, he sides with us against Straff – whether we want the alliance or not.”

“But, what if the Assembly gives the city to Straff? If our men join with him and attack Cett?”

“That’s the gamble he took,” Elend said. Cett never intended to be able to walk away from the confrontation here in Luthadel. He intends to take the city or be destroyed.

He is waiting, hoping Straff will attack, worrying that we’ll just give into him. But neither can happen as long as Straff is afraid of Vin. A three-way standoff. With the koloss as a fourth element that nobody can predict.

Someone needed to do something to tip the scales. “Demoux,” Elend said. “Are you ready to take over here?”

Captain Demoux looked over, nodding.

Elend turned to Ham. “I have a question for you, Ham.”

Ham raised an eyebrow.

“How insane are you feeling at the moment?

Elend led his horse out of the tunnel into the scraggly landscape outside of Luthadel. He turned, craning to look up at the wall. Hopefully, the soldiers there had gotten his message, and wouldn’t mistake him for a spy or a scout of one of the enemy armies. He’d rather not end up in Tindwyl’s histories as the ex-king who’d died by an arrow from one of his own men.

Ham led a small, grizzled woman from the tunnel. As Elend had guessed, Ham had easily found a suitable passwall to get them out of the city.

“Well, there you go,” said the elderly woman, resting on her cane.

“Thank you, good woman,” Elend said. “You have served your dominance well this day.”

The woman snorted, raising an eyebrow – though, from what Elend could tell, she was quite nearly blind. Elend smiled, pulling out a pouch and handing it to her. She reached into it with gnarled, but surprisingly dexterous, fingers and counted out the contents. “Three extra?”

“To pay you to leave a scout here,” Elend said. “To watch for our return.”

“Return?” the woman asked. “You aren’t running?”

“No,” Elend said. “I just have some business with one of the armies.”

The woman raised the eyebrow again. “Well, none of Granny’s business,” she muttered, turning back down the hole with a tapping cane. “For three clips, I can find a grandson to sit out here for a few hours. Lord Ruler knows, I have enough of them.”

Ham watched her go, a spark of fondness in his eyes.

“How long have you known about this place?” Elend asked, watching as a couple of burly men pulled closed the hidden section of stone. Half burrowed, half cut from the wall’s stones themselves, the tunnel was a remarkable feat. Even after hearing about the existence of such things from Felt earlier, it was still a shock to travel through one hidden not a few minutes’ ride from Keep Venture itself.

Ham turned back to him as the false wall snapped shut. “Oh, I’ve known of this for years and years,” he said. “Granny Hilde used to give me sweets when I was a kid. Of course, that was really just a cheap way of getting some quiet – yet well-targeted – publicity for her passwall. When I was grown, I used to use this to sneak Mardra and the kids in and out of the city when they came to visit.”

“Wait,” Elend said. “You grew up in Luthadel?”

“Of course.”

“On the streets, like Vin?”

Ham shook his head. “Not really like Vin,” he said in a subdued voice, scanning the wall. “I don’t really think anyone grew up like Vin. I had skaa parents – my grandfather was the nobleman. I was involved with the underground, but I had my parents for a good portion of my childhood. Besides, I was a boy – and a large one.” He turned toward Elend. “I suspect that makes a big difference.”

Elend nodded.

“You’re not going to shut this place down, are you?” Ham asked.

Elend turned with shock. “Why would I?”

Ham shrugged. “It doesn’t exactly seem like the kind of honest enterprise that you would approve of. There are probably people fleeing from the city nightly through this hole. Granny Hilde is known to take coin and not ask questions – even if she does grumble at you a bit.”

Ham did have a point. Probably why he didn’t tell me about the place until I specifically asked. His friends walked a fine line, close to their old ties with the underground, yet working hard to build up the government they’d sacrificed so much to create.

“I’m not king,” Elend said, leading his horse away from the city. “What Granny Hilde does isn’t any of my business.”

Ham moved up beside him, looking relieved. Elend could see that relief dissipate, however, as the reality of what they were doing settled in. “I don’t like this, El.”

They stopped walking as Elend mounted. “Neither do I.”

Ham took a deep breath, then nodded.

My old nobleman friends would have tried to talk me out of this, Elend thought with amusement. Why did I surround myself with people who had been loyal to the Survivor? They expect their leaders to take irrational risks.

“I’ll go with you,” Ham said.

“No,” Elend said. “It won’t make a difference. Stay here, wait to see if I get back. If I don’t, tell Vin what happened.”

“Sure, I’ll tell her,” Ham said wryly. “Then I’ll proceed to remove her daggers from my chest. Just make sure you come back, all right?”

Elend nodded, barely paying attention. His eyes were focused on the army in the distance. An army without tents, carriages, food carts, or servants. An army who had eaten the foliage to the ground in a wide swath around them. Koloss.

Sweat made the reins slick in Elend’s hands. This was different from before, when he’d gone into Straff’s army and Cett’s keep. This time he was alone. Vin couldn’t get him out if things went bad; she was still recovering from her wounds, and nobody knew what Elend was doing but Ham.

What do I owe the people of this city? Elend thought. They rejected me. Why do I still insist on trying to protect them?

“I recognize that look, El,” Ham said. “Let’s go back.”

Elend closed his eyes, letting out a quiet sigh. Then he snapped his eyes open and kicked his horse into a gallop.

It had been years since he’d seen koloss, and that experience had come only at his father’s insistence. Straff hadn’t trusted the creatures, and had never liked having garrisons of them in the Northern Dominance, one just a few days’ march from his home city of Urteau. Those koloss had been a reminder, a warning, from the Lord Ruler.

Elend rode his horse hard, as if using its momentum to bolster his own will. Aside from one brief visit to the Urteau koloss garrison, everything he knew of the creatures came from books – but Tindwyl’s instruction had weakened his once absolute, and slightly naive, trust in his learning.

It will have to be enough, Elend thought as he approached the camp. He gritted his teeth, slowing his animal as he approached a wandering squad of Koloss.

It was as he remembered. One large creature – its skin revoltingly split and cracked by stretch marks – led a few medium-sized beasts, whose bleeding rips were only beginning to appear at the corners of their mouths and the edges of their eyes. A smattering of smaller creatures – their baggy skin loose and sagging beneath their eyes and arms – accompanied their betters.

Elend reined in his horse, trotting it over to the largest beast. “Take me to Jastes.”

“Get off your horse,” the koloss said.

Elend looked the creature directly in the eyes. Atop his horse, he was nearly the same height. “Take me to Jastes.”

The koloss regarded him with a set of beady, unreadable eyes. It bore a rip from one eye to the other, above the nose, a secondary rip curving down to one of the nostrils. The nose itself was pulled so tight it was twisted and flattened, held to the bone a few inches off-center.

This was the moment. The books said the creature would either do as commanded or simply attack him. Elend sat tensely.

“Come,” the koloss snapped, turning to walk back toward the camp. The rest of the creatures surrounded Elend’s horse, and the beast shuffled nervously. Elend kept a tight hold on his reins and nudged the animal forward. It responded skittishly.

He should have felt good at his small victory, but his tension only increased. They moved forward into the koloss camp. It was like being swallowed. Like letting a rockslide collapse around you. Koloss looked up as he passed, watching him with their red, emotionless eyes. Many others just stood silently around their cooking fires, unresponsive, like men who had been born dull-minded and witless.

Others fought. They killed each other, wrestling on the ground before their uncaring companions. No philosopher, scientist, or scholar had been able to determine exactly what set off a koloss. Greed seemed a good motivation. Yet, they would sometimes attack when there was plenty of food, killing a companion for his hunk of beef. Pain was another good motivator, apparently, as was a challenge to authority. Carnal, visceral reasons. And yet, there seemed to be times when they attacked without any cause or reason.

And after fighting, they would explain themselves in calm tones, as if their actions were perfectly rational. Elend shivered as he heard yells, telling himself that he would probably be all right until he reached Jastes. Koloss usually just attacked each other.

Unless they got into a blood frenzy.

He pushed that thought away, instead focusing on the things that Sazed had mentioned about his trip into the koloss camp. The creatures wore the wide, brutish iron swords that Sazed had described. The bigger the koloss, the bigger the weapon. When a koloss reached a size where he thought he needed a larger sword, he had only two choices: find one that had been discarded, or kill someone and take theirs. A koloss population could often be crudely controlled by increasing or decreasing the number of swords available to the group.

None of the scholars knew how the creatures bred.

As Sazed had explained, these koloss also had strange little pouches tied to their sword straps. What are they? Elend thought. Sazed said he saw the largest koloss carrying three or four. But that one leading my group has almost twenty. Even the small koloss in Elend’s group had three pouches.

That’s the difference, he thought. Whatever is in those pouches, could it be the way Jastes controls the creatures?

There was no way to know, save begging one of the pouches off a koloss – and he doubted they would let them go.

As he walked, he noticed another oddity: some of the koloss were wearing clothing. Before, he’d seen them only in loincloths, as Sazed had reported. Yet, many of these koloss had pants, shirts, or skirts pulled onto their bodies. They wore the clothing without regard for size, and most pieces were so tight they had torn. Others were so loose they had to be tied on. Elend saw a few of the larger koloss wearing garments like bandanas tied around their arms or heads.

“We are not koloss,” the lead koloss suddenly said, turning to Elend as they walked.

Elend frowned. “Explain.”

“You think we are koloss,” it said through lips that were stretched too tightly to work properly. “We are humans. We will live in your city. We will kill you, and we will take it.”

Elend shivered, realizing the source of the mismatched garments. They had come from the village that the koloss had attacked, the one whose refugees had trickled into Luthadel. This appeared to be a new development in koloss thinking. Or, had it always been there, repressed by the Lord Ruler? The scholar in Elend was fascinated. The rest of him was simply horrified.

His koloss guide paused before a small group of tents, the only such structures in the camp. Then the lead koloss turned and yelled, startling Elend’s horse. Elend fought to keep his mount from throwing him as the koloss jumped and attacked one of its companions, proceeding to pummel it with a massive fist.

Elend won his struggle. The lead koloss, however, did not.

Elend climbed off his horse, patting the beast on the neck as the victimized koloss pulled his sword from the chest of his former leader. The survivor – who now bore several cuts in his skin that hadn’t come from stretching – bent down to harvest the pouches tied to the corpse’s back. Elend watched with a muted fascination as the koloss stood and spoke.

“He was never a good leader,” it said in a slurred voice.

I can’t let these monsters attack my city, Elend thought. I have to do something. He pulled his horse forward, turning his back on the koloss as he entered the secluded section of camp, watched over by a group of nervous young men in uniforms. Elend handed his reins to one of them.

“Take care of this for me,” Elend said, striding forward.

“Wait!” one of the soldiers said. “Halt!”

Elend turned sharply, facing the shorter man, who was trying to both level his spear at Elend and keep an eye on the koloss. Elend didn’t try to be harsh; he just wanted to keep his own anxiety under control and keep moving. Either way, the resulting glare probably would have impressed even Tindwyl.

The soldier jerked to a halt.

“I am Elend Venture,” Elend said. “You know that name?”

The man nodded.

“You may announce me to Lord Lekal,” Elend said. “Just get to the tent before I do.”

The young man took off at a dash. Elend followed, striding up to the tent, where other soldiers stood hesitantly.

What must it have done to them, Elend wondered, living surrounded by koloss, so terribly outnumbered? Feeling a stab of pity, he didn’t try to bully his way in. He stood with faux patience until a voice called from inside. “Let him in.”

Elend brushed past the guards and threw open the tent flap.

The months had not been kind to Jastes Lekal. Somehow, the few wisps of hair on his head looked far more pathetic than complete baldness would have. His suit was sloppy and stained, his eyes underlined by a pair of deep bags. He was pacing, and jumped slightly when Elend entered.

Then he froze for a moment, eyes wide. Finally, he raised a quivering hand to push back hair he didn’t have. “Elend?” he asked. “What in the Lord Ruler’s name happened to you?”

“Responsibility, Jastes,” Elend said quietly. “It appears that neither of us were ready for it.”

“Out,” Jastes said, waving to his guards. They shuffled past Elend, closing the tent flap behind them.

“It’s been a while, Elend,” Jastes said, chuckling weakly.

Elend nodded.

“I remember those days,” Jastes said, “sitting in your den or mine, sharing a drink with Telden. We were so innocent, weren’t we?”

“Innocent,” Elend said, “but hopeful.”

“Want something to drink?” Jastes said, turning toward the room’s desk. Elend eyed the bottles and flasks lying in the corner of the room. They were all empty. Jastes removed a full bottle from the desk and poured Elend a small cup, the size and clear color an indication that this was no simple dinner wine.

Elend accepted the small cup, but did not drink. “What happened, Jastes? How did the clever, thoughtful philosopher I knew turn into a tyrant?”

“Tyrant?” Jastes snapped, downing his cup in a single shot. “I’m no tyrant. Your father’s the tyrant. I’m just a realist.”

“Sitting at the center of a koloss army doesn’t seem to be a very realistic position to me.”

“I can control them.”

“And Suisna?” Elend asked. “The village they slaughtered?”

Jastes wavered. “That was an unfortunate accident.”

Elend looked down at the drink in his hand, then threw it aside, the liquor splashing on the dusty tent floor. “This isn’t my father’s den, and we are not friends any longer. I will call no man friend who leads something like this against my city. What happened to your honor, Jastes Lekal?”

Jastes snorted, glancing at the spilled liquor. “That’s always been the problem with you, Elend. So certain, so optimistic, so self-righteous.”

“It was our optimism,” Elend said, stepping forward. “We wanted to change things, Jastes, not destroy them!”

“Is that so?” Jastes countered, showing a temper Elend had never seen in his friend. “You want to know why I’m here, Elend? Did you even pay attention to what was happening in the Southern Dominance while you played in Luthadel?”

“I’m sorry about what happened to your family, Jastes.”

“Sorry?” Jastes said, snatching the bottle off his desk. “You’re sorry? I implemented your plans, Elend. I did everything we talked about – freedom, political honesty. I trusted my allies rather than crushing them into submission. And you know what happened?”

Elend closed his eyes.

“They killed everyone, Elend,” Jastes said. “That’s what you do when you take over. You kill your rivals and their families – even the young girls, even the babies. And you leave their bodies, as a warning. That’s good politics. That’s how you stay in power!”

“It’s easy to believe in something when you win all the time, Jastes,” Elend said, opening his eyes. “The losses are what define a man’s faith.”

“Losses?” Jastes demanded. “My sister was a loss?”

“No, I mean–”

“Enough!” Jastes snapped, slamming the bottle down on his desk. “Guards!”

Two men threw back the tent flap and moved into the room.

“Take His Majesty captive,” Jastes said, with an unsteady wave of his hand. “Send a messenger to the city, tell them that we want to negotiate.”

“I’m not king anymore, Jastes,” Elend said.

Jastes stopped.

“Do you think I’d come here and let myself get captured if I were king?” Elend asked. “They deposed me. The Assembly invoked a no-confidence clause and chose a new king.”

“You bloody idiot,” Jastes said.

“Losses, Jastes,” Elend said. “It hasn’t been as hard for me as it was for you, but I do think I understand.”

“So,” Jastes said, running a hand through his “hair,” “that fancy suit and haircut didn’t save you, eh?”

“Take your koloss and go, Jastes.”

“That sounded like a threat, Elend,” Jastes said. “You aren’t king, you don’t have an army, and I don’t see your Mistborn around. What grounds do you have for threats?”

“They’re koloss,” Elend said. “Do you really want them getting into the city? It’s your home, Jastes – or, it was once. There are thousands of people inside!”

“I can… control my army,” Jastes said.

“No, I doubt you can,” Elend said. “What happened, Jastes? Did they decide they needed a king? They decided that’s the way that ‘humans’ did it, so they should do it, too? What is it that they carry in those pouches?”

Jastes didn’t answer.

Elend sighed. “What happens when one of them just snaps and attacks you?”

Jastes shook his head. “I’m sorry, Elend,” he said quietly. “I can’t let Straff get that atium.”

“And my people?”

Jastes paused only briefly, then lowered his eyes and motioned to the guards. One laid a hand on Elend’s shoulder.

Elend’s reaction surprised even himself. He slammed his elbow up into the man’s face, shattering his nose, then took the other man down with a kick to the leg. Before Jastes could do more than cry out, Elend jumped forward.

Elend ripped an obsidian knife – given to him by Vin – from his boot and caught Jastes by the shoulder. Elend slammed the whimpering man around, pushing him backward onto the desk and – barely thinking to consider his actions – rammed the knife into his old friend’s shoulder.

Jastes emitted a loud, pathetic scream.

“If killing you would do anything useful, Jastes,” Elend growled, “I’d do it right now. But I don’t know how you control these things, and I don’t want to set them loose.”

Soldiers piled into the room. Elend didn’t look up. He slapped Jastes, stopping his cries of pain.

“You listen,” Elend said. “I don’t care if you’ve been hurt, I don’t care if you don’t believe in the philosophies anymore, and I don’t really care if you get yourself killed playing politics with Straff and Cett.

“But I do care if you threaten my people. I want you to march your army out of my dominance – go attack Straff’s homeland, or maybe Cett’s. They’re both undefended. I promise I won’t let your enemies get the atium.

“And, as a friend, I’ll give you a bit of counsel. Think about that wound in your arm for a little while, Jastes. I was your best friend, and I nearly killed you. What the hell are you doing sitting in the middle of an entire army of deranged koloss?”

Soldiers surrounded him. Elend stood, ripping the knife from Jastes’s body and spinning the man around, pressing the weapon against his throat.

The guards froze.

“I’m leaving,” Elend said, pushing the confused Jastes ahead of him, moving out of the tent. He noticed with some concern that there were barely a dozen human guards. Sazed had counted more. Where had Jastes lost them?

There was no sign of Elend’s horse. So he kept a wary eye on the soldiers, pulling Jastes toward the invisible line between the human camp and the koloss one. Elend turned as he reached the perimeter, then pushed Jastes back toward his men. They caught him, one pulling out a bandage for the arm. Others made moves as if to chase Elend, but they paused, hesitant.

Elend had crossed the line into the koloss camp. He stood quietly, watching the pathetic group of young soldiers, Jastes at their center. Even as they ministered to him, Elend could see the look in Jastes’s eyes. Hatred. He wouldn’t retreat. The man Elend had known was dead, replaced by this product of a new world that didn’t kindly regard philosophers and idealists.

Elend turned away, walking among the koloss. A group of them quickly approached. The same one as before? He couldn’t tell for certain.

“Take me out,” Elend commanded, meeting the eyes of the largest koloss in the team. Either Elend seemed more commanding now, or this koloss was more easily cowed, for there was no argument. The creature simply nodded and began to shuffle out of the camp, his team surrounding Elend.

This trip was a waste, Elend thought with frustration. All I did was antagonize Jastes. I risked my life for nothing.

If only I could find out what was in those pouches!

He eyed the group of koloss around him. It was a typical group, ranging in size from five feet to one ten-foot monstrosity. They walked along with slumped, unengaged postures…

Elend still had his knife out.

This is stupid, he thought. For some reason, that didn’t stop him from choosing the smallest koloss in the group, taking a deep breath, and attacking.

The rest of the koloss paused to watch. The creature Elend had chosen spun – but in the wrong direction. It turned to face its companion koloss, the one nearest to it in size, as Elend tackled it, ramming the knife into its back.

Even at five feet with a small build, the koloss was incredibly strong. It tossed Elend off, bellowing in pain. Elend, however, managed to keep hold of his dagger.

Can’t let it get out that sword, he thought, scrambling to his feet and ramming his knife into the creature’s thigh. The koloss dropped again, punching at Elend with one arm, fingers reaching for its sword with the other. Elend took the punch to the chest, and fell back to the sooty ground.

He groaned, gasping. The koloss pulled out its sword, but had trouble standing. Both knife wounds bled stark red blood; the liquid seemed brighter, more reflective, than that of a human, but that might have just been a contrast with the deep blue skin.

The koloss finally managed to gain its feet, and Elend realized his mistake. He’d let the adrenaline of his confrontation with Jastes – his frustration at his inability to stop the armies – drive him. He’d sparred a lot lately, but he was in no position to take a koloss.

But it was far too late to worry about that now.

Elend rolled out of the way as a thick, clublike sword smashed to the ground beside him. Instincts overrode terror, and he mostly managed to avoid the backswing. It took him a bit in the side, spraying a patch of blood across his once white uniform, but he barely even felt the cut.

Only one way to win a knife fight against a guy with a sword… Elend thought, gripping his knife. The thought, oddly, hadn’t come from one of his trainers, or even from Vin. He wasn’t sure where it came from, but he trusted it.

Close in tight as fast as possible, and kill quickly.

And Elend attacked. The koloss swung as well. Elend could see the attack, but couldn’t do anything about it. He could only throw himself forward, knife raised, teeth clenched.

He rammed his knife into the koloss’s eye, barely managing to get inside the creature’s reach. Even so, the hilt of the sword hit him in the stomach.

Both dropped.

Elend groaned quietly, slowly becoming aware of the hard, ash-packed earth and weeds eaten down to their roots. A fallen twig was scratching his cheek. Odd that he would notice that, considering the pain in his chest. He stumbled to his feet. The koloss he’d attacked did not rise. Its companions stood, looking unconcerned, though their eyes were focused on him. They seemed to want something.

“He ate my horse,” Elend said, saying the first thing that came to his clouded mind.

The group of koloss nodded. Elend stumbled forward, wiping the ash from his cheek with a dazed hand as he knelt beside the dead creature. He ripped his knife out, then slid it back in his boot. Next he unfastened the pouches; this koloss had two.

Finally, not certain why, he grabbed the creature’s large sword and rested it up on his shoulder. It was so weighty that he could barely carry it, and certainly wouldn’t be able to swing it. How does a creature so small use something like this?

The koloss watched him work without comment; then they led him out of the camp. Once they had retreated, Elend pulled open one of the pouches and looked inside.

He shouldn’t have been surprised by what he found inside. Jastes had decided to control his army the old-fashioned way.

He was paying them.

43

MIST POURED INTO THE DARK room, collapsing around Vin like a waterfall as she stood in the open balcony doorway. Elend was a motionless lump sleeping in his bed a short distance away.

Apparently, Mistress, OreSeur had explained, he went into the koloss camp alone. You were asleep, and none of us knew what he was doing. I don’t think he managed to persuade the creatures not to attack, but he did come back with some very useful information.

OreSeur sat on his haunches beside her. He had not asked why Vin had come to Elend’s rooms, nor why she stood, quietly watching the former king in the night.

She couldn’t protect him. She tried so hard, but the impossibility of keeping even one person safe suddenly seemed so real – so tangible – to her that she felt sick.

Elend had been right to go out. He was his own man, competent, kingly. What he had done would only put him in more danger, however. Fear had been a companion of hers for such a long time that she had grown accustomed to it, and it rarely caused a physical reaction in her. Yet, watching him sleep quietly, she found her hands traitorously unsteady.

I saved him from the assassins. I protected him. I’m a powerful Allomancer. Why, then, do I feel so helpless?

So alone.

She walked forward, bare feet silent as she stepped up to Elend’s bed. He did not wake. She stood for a long moment, just looking at him peaceful in his slumber.

OreSeur growled quietly.

Vin spun. A figure stood on the balcony, straight-backed and black, a near silhouette even to her tin-enhanced eyes. Mist fell before him, pooling on the floor, spreading out like an ethereal moss.

“Zane,” she whispered.

“He is not safe, Vin,” he said, stepping slowly into the room, pushing a wave of mist before him.

She looked back at Elend. “He never will be.”

“I came to tell you that there is a traitor in your midst.”

Vin looked up. “Who?” she asked.

“The man, Demoux,” Zane said. “He contacted my father a short time before the assassination attempt, offering to open the gates and give up the city.”

Vin frowned. That makes no sense.

Zane stepped forward. “Cett’s work, Vin. He is a snake, even among high lords. I don’t know how he bribed away one of your own men, but I do know that Demoux tried to provoke my father to attack the city during the voting.”

Vin paused. If Straff had attacked at that moment, it would have reinforced the impression that he had sent the assassins in the first place.

“Elend and Penrod were supposed to die,” Zane said. “With the Assembly in chaos, Cett could have taken charge. He could have led his forces – along with your own – against Straff’s attacking army. He would have become the savior who protected Luthadel against the tyranny of an invader…”

Vin stood quietly. Just because Zane said it didn’t mean it was true. Yet, her investigations whispered that Demoux was the traitor.

She’d recognized the assassin at the assembly, and he had been from Cett’s retinue, so she knew that Zane was telling the truth about at least one thing. Plus, Cett had precedent for sending Allomancer assassins: he had sent the ones months ago, when Vin had used the last of her atium. Zane had saved her life during that fight.

She clenched her fists, frustration biting at her chest. If he’s right, then Demoux is dead, and an enemy kandra has been in the palace, spending his days just steps away from Elend. Even if Zane lies, we still have a tyrant inside the city, another without. A force of koloss salivating over the people. And Elend doesn’t need me.

Because there’s nothing I can do.

“I see your frustration,” Zane whispered, stepping up beside Elend’s bed, looking down at his sleeping brother. “You keep listening to him. You want to protect him, but he won’t let you.” Zane looked up, meeting her eyes. She saw an implication in them.

There was something she could do – the thing a part of her had wanted to do from the beginning. The thing she’d been trained to do.

“Cett almost killed the man you love,” Zane said. “Your Elend does as he wishes. Well, let us do as you wish.” He looked into her eyes. “We have been someone else’s knives for too long. Let’s show Cett why he should fear us.”

Her fury, her frustration at the siege, yearned to do as Zane suggested. Yet, she wavered, her thoughts in chaos. She had killed – killed well – just a short time before, and it had terrified her. Yet… Elend could take risks – insane risks, traveling into an army of koloss on his own. It almost felt like a betrayal. She had worked so hard to protect him, straining herself, exposing herself. Then, just a few days later, he wandered alone into a camp full of monsters.

She gritted her teeth. Part of her whispered that if Elend wouldn’t be reasonable and stay out of danger, she’d just have to go and make sure the threats against him were removed.

“Let’s go,” she whispered.

Zane nodded. “Realize this,” he said. “We can’t just assassinate him. Another warlord will take his place, and take his armies. We have to attack hard. We have to hit that army so soundly that whoever takes over for Cett is so frightened that he withdraws.”

Vin paused, looking away from him, nails biting into her own palms.

“Tell me,” he said, stepping closer to her. “What would your Kelsier tell you to do?”

The answer was simple. Kelsier would never have gotten into this situation. He had been a hard man, a man with little tolerance for any who threatened those he loved. Cett and Straff wouldn’t have lasted a single night at Luthadel without feeling Kelsier’s knife.

There was a part of her that had always been awed by his powerful, utilitarian brutality.

There are two ways to stay safe, Reen’s voice whispered to her. Either be so quiet and harmless that people ignore you, or be so dangerous that they’re terrified of you.

She met Zane’s eyes and nodded. He smiled, then moved over and jumped out the window.

“OreSeur,” she whispered once he was gone. “My atium.”

The dog paused, then padded up to her, his shoulder splitting. “Mistress…” he said slowly. “Do not do this.”

She glanced at Elend. She couldn’t protect him from everything. But she could do something.

She took the atium from OreSeur. Her hands no longer shook. She felt cold.

“Cett has threatened all that I love,” she whispered. “He will soon know that there is something in this world more deadly than his assassins. Something more powerful than his army. Something more terrifying than the Lord Ruler himself.

“And I am coming for him.”

Mist duty, they called it.

Every soldier had to take his turn, standing in the dark with a sputtering torch. Someone had to watch. Had to stare into those shifting, deceitful mists and wonder if anything was out there. Watching.

Wellen knew there was.

He knew it, but he never spoke. Soldiers laughed at such superstitions. They had to go out in the mists. They were used to it. They knew better than to fear it.

Supposedly.

“Hey,” Jarloux said, stepping up to the edge of the wall. “Wells, do you see something out there?”

Of course he didn’t. They stood with several dozen others on the perimeter of Keep Hasting, watching from the outer keep wall – a low fortification, perhaps fifteen feet tall, that surrounded the grounds. Their job was to look for anything suspicious in the mists.

“Suspicious.” That was the word they used. It was all suspicious. It was mist. That shifting darkness, that void made of chaos and hatred. Wellen had never trusted it. They were out there. He knew.

Something moved in the darkness. Wellen stepped back, staring into the void, his heart beginning to flutter, hands beginning to sweat as he raised his spear.

“Yeah,” Jarloux said, squinting. “I swear, I see…”

It came, as Wellen had always known it would. Like a thousand gnats on a hot day, like a hail of arrows shot by an entire army. Coins sprayed across the battlements. A wall of shimmering death, hundreds of trails zipping through the mists. Metal rang against stone, and men cried out in pain.

Wellen stepped back, raising his spear, as Jarloux yelled the alarm. Jarloux died halfway through the call, a coin snapping through his mouth, throwing out a chip of tooth as it proceeded out the back of his head. Jarloux collapsed, and Wellen stumbled away from the corpse, knowing that it was too late to run.

The coins stopped. Silence in the air. Men lay dying or groaning at his feet.

Then they came. Two dark shadows of death in the night. Ravens in the mist. They flew over Wellen with a rustle of black cloth.

And they left him behind, alone amid the corpses of what had once been a squad of forty men.

Vin landed in a crouch, bare feet on the cool stone cobbles of the Hasting courtyard. Zane landed upright, standing – as always – with his towering air of self-confidence.

Pewter blazed within her, giving her muscles the taut energy of a thousand excited moments. She easily ignored the pain of her wounded side. Her sole bead of atium rested in her stomach, but she didn’t use it. Not yet. Not unless she was right, and Cett proved to be Mistborn.

“We’ll go from the bottom up,” Zane said.

Vin nodded. The central tower of Keep Hasting was many stories high, and they couldn’t know which one Cett was on. If they started low, he wouldn’t be able to escape.

Besides. Going up would be more difficult. The energy in Vin’s limbs cried for release. She’d waited, remained coiled, for far too long. She was tired of weakness, tired of being restrained. She had spent months as a knife, held immobile at someone’s throat.

It was time to cut.

The two dashed forward. Torches began to light around them as Cett’s men – those who camped in the courtyard – awakened to the alarm. Tents unfurled and collapsed, men yelling in surprise, looking for the army that assailed them. They could only wish that they were so lucky.

Vin jumped straight up into the air, and Zane spun, throwing a bag of coins around him. Hundreds of bits of copper sparkled in the air beneath her – a peasant’s fortune. Vin landed with a rustle, and they both Pushed, their power throwing the coins outward. The torch-sparkled missiles ripped through the camp, dropping surprised, drowsy men.

Vin and Zane continued toward the central tower. A squad of soldiers had formed up at the tower’s front. They still seemed disoriented, confused, and sleepy, but they were armed. Armed with metal armor and steel weapons – a choice that, had they actually been facing an enemy army, would have been wise.

Zane and Vin slid into the midst of the soldiers. Zane tossed a single coin into the air between them. Vin reached out and Pushed against it, feeling Zane’s weight as he also Pushed against it.

Braced against each other, they both Pushed in opposite directions, throwing their weight against the breastplates of the soldiers to either side. With flared pewter – holding each other steady – their Pushes scattered the soldiers as if they had been slapped by enormous hands. Spears and swords twisted in the night, clattering to the cobbles. Breastplates towed bodies away.

Vin extinguished her steel as she felt Zane’s weight come off the coin. The sparkling bit of metal bounced to the ground between them, and Zane turned, throwing up his hand toward the single soldier who remained standing directly between Zane and the keep doors.

A squad of soldiers raced up behind Zane, but they suddenly halted as he Pushed against them – then sent the transfer of weight directly into the lone soldier. The unfortunate man crashed backward into the keep doors.

Bones crunched. The doors flung open as the soldier burst into the room beyond. Zane ducked through the open doorway, and Vin moved smoothly behind him, her bare feet leaving rough cobbles and falling on smooth marble instead.

Soldiers waited inside. These didn’t wear armor, and they carried large wooden shields to block coins. They were armed with staves or obsidian swords. Hazekillers – men trained specifically to fight Allomancers. There were, perhaps, fifty of them.

Now it begins in earnest, Vin thought, leaping into the air and Pushing off the door’s hinges.

Zane led by Pushing on the same man he’d used to break open the doors, throwing the corpse toward a group of hazekillers. As the soldier crashed into them, Vin landed amid a second group. She spun on the floor, whipping out her legs and flaring pewter, tripping a good four men. As the others tried to strike, she Pushed downward against a coin in her pouch, ripping it free and throwing herself upward. She spun in the air, catching a falling staff discarded by a tripped soldier.

Obsidian cracked against the white marble where she had been. Vin came down with her own weapon and struck, attacking faster than anyone should be able to, hitting ears, chins, and throats. Skulls cracked. Bones broke. She was barely breathing hard when she found all ten of her opponents down.

Ten men… didn’t Kelsier once tell me he had trouble with half a dozen hazekillers?

No time to think. A large group of soldiers charged her. She yelled and jumped toward them, throwing her staff into the face of the first man she met. The others raised their shields, surprised, but Vin whipped out a pair of obsidian daggers as she landed. She rammed them into the thighs of two men before her, then spun past them, attacking flesh where she saw it.

An attack flickered from the corner of her eye, and she snapped up an arm, blocking the wooden staff as it came for her head. The wood cracked, and she took the man down with a wide sweep of the dagger, nearly beheading him. She jumped backward as the others moved in, braced herself, then yanked on the armored corpse Zane had used before, Pulling it toward her.

Shields did little good against a missile so large. Vin smashed the corpse into her opponents, sweeping them before her. To the side, she could see the remnants of the hazekillers who had attacked Zane. Zane stood among them, a black pillar before the fallen, arms outstretched. He met her eyes, then nodded toward the rear of the chamber.

Vin ignored the few remaining hazekillers. She Pushed against the corpse and sent herself sliding across the floor. Zane jumped up, Pushing back, shattering his way through a window and into the mists. Vin quickly did a check of the back rooms: no Cett. She turned and took down a straggling hazekiller as she ducked into the lift shaft.

She needed no elevator. She shot straight up on a Pushed coin, bursting out onto the third floor. Zane would take the second.

Vin landed quietly on the marble floor, hearing footsteps come down a stairwell beside her. She recognized this large, open room: it was the chamber where she and Elend had met Cett for dinner. It was now empty, even the table removed, but she recognized the circular perimeter of stained-glass windows.

Hazekillers burst from the kitchen room. Dozens. There must be another stairwell back there, Vin thought as she darted toward the stairwell beside her. Dozens more were coming out there, however, and the two groups moved to surround her.

Fifty-to-one must have seemed like good odds for the men, and they charged confidently. She glanced at the open kitchen doors, and saw no Cett beyond. This floor was clear.

Cett certainly brought a lot of hazekillers, she thought, backing quietly to the center of the room. Save for the stairwell, kitchens, and pillars, the room was mostly surrounded in arched stained-glass windows.

He planned for my attack. Or, he tried to.

Vin ducked down as the waves of men surrounded her. She turned her head up, eyes closed, and burned duralumin.

Then she Pulled.

Stained-glass windows – set in metal frames inside their arches – exploded around the room. She felt the metal frames burst inward, twisting on themselves before her awesome power. She imagined twinkling slivers of multicolored glass in the air. She heard men scream as glass and metal hit them, embedding in their flesh.

Only the outer layer of men would die from the blast. Vin opened her eyes and jumped as a dozen dueling canes fell around her. She passed through a hail of attacks. Some hit. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t feel pain at the moment.

She Pushed against a broken metal frame, throwing herself over the heads of soldiers, landing outside the large circle of attackers. The outer line of men was down, impaled by glass shards and twisted metal frames. Vin raised a hand and bowed her head.

Duralumin and steel. She Pushed. The world lurched.

Vin shot out into the mists through a broken window as she Pushed against the line of corpses impaled by metal frames. The bodies were thrown away from her, smashing into the men who were still alive in the center.

Dead, dying, and unharmed were swept from the room, Pushed out the window opposite Vin. Bodies twisted in the mists, fifty men thrown into the night, leaving the room empty save for trails of blood and discarded bits of glass.

Vin downed a vial of metals as the mists rushed around her; then she Pulled herself back toward the keep, using a window on the fourth floor. As she approached, a corpse crashed through the window, falling out into the night. She caught a glimpse of Zane disappearing out another window on the opposite side. This level was clear.

Lights burned on the fifth floor. They probably could have come here first, but that wasn’t the plan. Zane was right. They didn’t just need to kill Cett. They needed to terrify his entire army.

Vin Pushed against the same corpse that Zane had thrown out the window, using its metal armor as an anchor. It shot down at an angle, passing just inside a broken window, and Vin soared upward in an angle away from the building. A quick Pull directed her back to the building once she reached the elevation she needed. She landed at a window on the fifth floor.

Vin grasped the stone sill, heart thumping, breaths coming in deep gasps. Sweat made her face cold in the winter breeze, despite the heat burning within her. She gulped, eyes wide, and flared her pewter.

Mistborn.

She shattered the window with a slap. The soldiers that waited beyond jumped backward, spinning. One wore a metal belt buckle. He died first. The other twenty barely knew how to react as the buckle buzzed through their ranks, twisting between Vin’s Pushes and Pulls. They had been trained, instructed, and perhaps even tested against Allomancers.

But they had never fought Vin.

Men screamed and fell, Vin ripping through their ranks with only the buckle as a weapon. Before the force of her pewter, tin, steel, and iron, the possible use of atium seemed an incredible waste. Even without it, she was a terrible weapon – one that, until this moment, even she hadn’t understood.

Mistborn.

The last man fell. Vin stood among them, feeling a numbing sense of satisfaction. She let the belt buckle slip from her fingers. It hit carpet. She stood in a room that wasn’t unadorned as the rest of the building had been; there was furniture here, and there were some minor decorations. Perhaps Elend’s clearing crews hadn’t gotten this far before Cett’s arrival, or perhaps he’d simply brought some of his own comforts.

Behind her was the stairwell. In front of her was a fine wooden wall set with a door – the inner apartments. Vin stepped forward quietly, mistcloak rustling as she Pulled four lamps off the brackets behind her. They whipped forward, and she sidestepped, letting them crash into the wall. Fire blossomed across splattered oil, billowing across the wall, the force of the lamps breaking the door on its hinges. She raised a hand, Pushing it fully open.

Fire dripped around her as she stepped into the room beyond. The richly decorated chamber was quiet, and eerily empty save for two figures. Cett sat in a simple wooden chair, bearded, sloppily dressed, and looking very, very tired. Cett’s young son stepped in between Cett and Vin. The boy held a dueling cane.

So, which one is Mistborn?

The boy swung. Vin caught the weapon, then shoved the boy to the side. He crashed into the wooden wall, then slumped to the ground. Vin eyed him.

“Leave Gneorndin alone, woman,” Cett said. “Do what you came to do.”

Vin turned toward the nobleman. She remembered her frustration, her rage, her cool, icy anger. She stepped forward and grabbed Cett by the front of his suit. “Fight me,” she said, and tossed him backward.

He slammed against the back wall, then slumped to the ground. Vin prepared her atium, but he did not rise. He simply rolled to the side, coughing.

Vin walked over, pulling him up by one arm. He balled a fist, trying to strike her, but he was pathetically weak. She let the blows bounce off her side.

“Fight me,” she commanded, tossing him to the side. He tumbled across the floor – head hitting hard – and came to rest against the burning wall, a trickle of blood running from his brow. He didn’t rise.

Vin gritted her teeth, striding forward.

“Leave him alone!” The boy, Gneorndin, stumbled in front of Cett, raising his dueling cane in a wavering hand.

Vin paused, cocking her head. The boy’s brow was streaked with sweat, and he was unsteady on his feet. She looked into his eyes, and saw absolute terror therein. This boy was no Mistborn. Yet, he held his ground. Pathetically, hopelessly, he stood before the body of the fallen Cett.

“Step aside, son,” Cett said in a tired voice. “There is nothing you can do here.”

The boy started to shake, then began to weep.

Tears, Vin thought, feeling an oddly surreal feeling cloud her mind. She reached up, surprised to find wet streaks on her own cheeks.

“You have no Mistborn,” she whispered.

Cett had struggled to a half-reclining position, and he looked into her eyes.

“No Allomancers faced us this night,” she said. “You used them all on the assassination attempt in the Assembly Hall?”

“The only Allomancers I had, I sent against you months ago,” Cett said with a sigh. “They were all I ever had, my only hope of killing you. Even they weren’t from my family. My whole line has been corrupted by skaa blood – Allrianne is the only Allomancer to be born to us for centuries.”

“You came to Luthadel…”

“Because Straff would have come for me eventually,” Cett said. “My best chance, lass, was to kill you early on. That’s why I sent them all against you. Failing that, I knew I had to try and take this damn city and its atium so I could buy myself some Allomancers. Didn’t work.”

“You could have just offered us an alliance.”

Cett chuckled, pulling himself up to a sitting position. “It doesn’t work that way in real politics. You take, or you get taken. Besides, I’ve always been a gambling man.” He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. “Do what you came to,” he repeated.

Vin shivered. She couldn’t feel her tears. She could barely feel anything.

Why? Why can’t I make sense of anything anymore?

The room began to shake. Vin spun, looking toward the back wall. The wood there quivered and spasmed like a dying animal. Nails began to pop, ripping backward through the paneling; then the entire wall burst away from Vin. Burning boards, splinters, nails, and shingles sprayed in the air, flying around a man in black. Zane stood sideways in the room beyond, death strewn at his feet, hands at his sides.

Red streamed from the tips of his fingers, running in a steady drip. He looked up through the burning remnants of the wall, smiling. Then he stepped toward Cett’s room.

“No!” Vin said, dashing at him.

Zane paused, surprised. He stepped to the side, easily dodging Vin, walking toward Cett and the boy.

“Zane, leave them!” Vin said, turning toward him, Pushing herself in a skid across the room. She reached for his arm. The black fabric glistened wet with blood that was only his own.

Zane dodged. He turned toward her, curious. She reached for him, but he moved out of the way with supernatural ease, outstepping her like a master swordsman facing a young boy.

Atium, Vin thought. He probably burned it this entire time. But, he didn’t need it to fight those men… they didn’t have a chance against us anyway.

“Please,” she asked. “Leave them.”

Zane turned toward Cett, who sat expectant. The boy was at his side, trying to pull his father away.

Zane looked back at her, head cocked.

“Please,” Vin repeated.

Zane frowned. “He still controls you, then,” he said, sounding disappointed. “I thought, maybe, if you could fight and see just how powerful you were, you’d shake yourself free of Elend’s grip. I guess I was wrong.”

Then he turned his back on Cett and walked out through the hole he had made. Vin followed quietly, feet crunching splinters of wood as she slowly withdrew, leaving a broken keep, shattered army, and humiliated lord behind.

44

IN THE COLD CALM OF morning, Breeze watched a very disheartening sight: Cett’s army withdrawing.

Breeze shivered, breath puffing as he turned toward Clubs. Most people wouldn’t have been able to read beyond the sneer on the squat general’s face. But Breeze saw more: he saw the tension in the taut skin around Clubs’s eyes, he noticed the way that Clubs tapped his finger against the frosty stone wall. Clubs was not a nervous man. The motions meant something.

“This is it, then?” Breeze asked quietly.

Clubs nodded.

Breeze couldn’t see it. There were still two armies out there; it was still a standoff. Yet, he trusted Clubs’s assessment. Or, rather, he trusted his own knowledge of people enough to trust his assessment of Clubs.

The general knew something he didn’t.

“Kindly explain,” Breeze said.

“This’ll end when Straff figures it out,” Clubs said.

“Figures what out?”

“That those koloss will do his job for him, if he lets them.”

Breeze paused. Straff doesn’t really care about the people in the city – he just wants to take it for the atium. And for the symbolic victory.

“If Straff pulls back…” Breeze said.

“Those koloss will attack,” Clubs said with a nod. “They’ll slaughter everyone they find and generally make rubble out of the city. Then Straff can come back and find his atium once the koloss are done.”

“Assuming they leave, my dear man.”

Clubs shrugged. “Either way, he’s better off. Straff will face one weakened enemy instead of two strong ones.”

Breeze felt a chill, and pulled his cloak closer. “You say that all so… straightforwardly.”

“We were dead the moment that first army got here, Breeze,” Clubs said. “We’re just good at stalling.”

Why in the name of the Lord Ruler do I spend my time with this man? Breeze thought. He’s nothing more than a pessimistic doomsayer. And yet, Breeze knew people. This time, Clubs wasn’t exaggerating.

“Bloody hell,” Breeze muttered.

Clubs just nodded, leaning against the wall and looking out at the disappearing army.

“Three hundred men,” Ham said, standing in Elend’s study. “Or, at least, that’s what our scouts say.”

“That’s not as bad as I’d feared,” Elend said. They stood in Elend’s study, the only other occupant being Spook, who sat lounging beside the table.

“El,” Ham said, “Cett only had a thousand men with him here in Luthadel. That means that during Vin’s attack, Cett took thirty percent casualties in less than ten minutes. Even on a battlefield, most armies will break if they take thirty or forty percent casualties in the course of an entire day’s fighting.”

“Oh,” Elend said, frowning.

Ham shook his head, sitting down, pouring himself something to drink. “I don’t get it, El. Why’d she attack him?”

“She’s loony,” Spook said.

Elend opened his mouth to counter that comment, but found it difficult to explain his feelings. “I’m not sure why she did it,” he finally admitted. “She did mention that she didn’t believe those assassins at the Assembly came from my father.”

Ham shrugged. He looked… haggard. This wasn’t his element, dealing with armies and worrying about the fate of kingdoms. He preferred to concern himself with smaller spheres.

Of course, Elend thought, I’d just prefer to be in my chair, reading quietly. We do what we must.

“Any news of her yet?” Elend asked.

Spook shook his head. “Uncle Grumpy has the scouts searching the city, but so far nothing.”

“If Vin doesn’t want to be found…” Ham said.

Elend began to pace. He couldn’t keep still; he was beginning to think he must look like Jastes, wandering in circles, running his hand through his hair.

Be firm, he told himself. You can afford to seem worried, but you mustn’t ever seem uncertain.

He continued to pace, though he slowed his step, and he didn’t voice his concerns to Ham or Spook. What if Vin was wounded? What if Cett had killed her? Their scouts had seen very little of the attack the night before. Vin had definitely been involved, and there were conflicting reports that said she’d been fighting another Mistborn. She had left the keep with one of the top floors in flames – and, for some reason, she had left Cett alive.

Since then, nobody had seen her.

Elend closed his eyes, pausing as he leaned a hand against the stone wall. I’ve been ignoring her lately. I’ve helped the city… but what good will it do to save Luthadel if I lose her? It’s almost like I don’t know her anymore.

Or did I ever know her in the first place?

It felt wrong to not have her with him. He had come to rely on her simple bluntness. He needed her genuine realism – her sheer sense of concreteness – to keep him grounded. He needed to hold her, so that he could know that there was something more important than theories and concepts.

He loved her.

“I don’t know, El,” Ham finally said. “I never thought that Vin would be a liability, but she had a hard youth. I remember once she exploded at the crew for little reason, yelling and screaming about her childhood. I… don’t know that she’s completely stable.”

Elend opened his eyes. “She’s stable, Ham,” he said firmly. “And she’s more capable than any of us.”

Ham frowned. “But–”

“She had a good reason for attacking Cett,” Elend said. “I trust her.”

Ham and Spook exchanged glances, and Spook just shrugged.

“It’s more than last night, El,” Ham said. “Something’s not right with that girl – not just mentally, either…”

“What do you mean?” Elend asked.

“Remember the attack on the Assembly?” Ham said. “You told me you saw her get hit square-on by a Thug’s staff.”

“And?” Elend asked. “It laid her out for three full days.”

Ham shook his head. “Her complete collection of wounds – getting hit in the side, the shoulder wound, nearly being choked to death – those all together laid her out for a couple of days. But, if she’d really gotten hit that hard by a Thug, she shouldn’t have been out for days, Elend. She should have been out for weeks. Maybe longer. She certainly shouldn’t have escaped without broken ribs.”

“She was burning pewter,” Elend said.

“Presumably, so was the Thug.”

Elend paused.

“You see?” Ham said. “If both were flaring pewter, then they should have balanced each other out. That leaves Vin – a girl who can’t weigh more than a hundred pounds – getting clobbered full-on by a trained soldier with three times her weight. She shrugged it off with barely a few days’ rest.”

“Vin’s special,” Elend finally said.

“I won’t argue with that,” Ham said. “But she’s also hiding things from us. Who was that other Mistborn? Some of the reports make it sound like they were working together.”

She said there was another Mistborn in the city, Elend thought. Zane – Straff’s messenger. She hasn’t mentioned him in a very long while.

Ham rubbed his forehead. “This is all falling apart around us, El.”

“Kelsier could have kept it together,” Spook mumbled. “When he was here, even our failures were part of his plan.”

“The Survivor is dead,” Elend said. “I never knew him, but I’ve listened to enough about him to learn one thing. He didn’t give in to despair.”

Ham smiled. “That much is true. He was laughing and joking the day after we lost our entire army to a miscalculation. Arrogant bastard.”

“Callous,” Spook said.

“No,” Ham said, reaching for his cup. “I used to think that. Now… I just think he was determined. Kell always looked toward tomorrow, no matter what the consequences.”

“Well, we have to do the same,” Elend said. “Cett is gone – Penrod let him leave. We can’t change that fact. But, we do have information on the koloss army.”

“Oh, about that,” Spook said, reaching into his pouch. He tossed something to the table. “You’re right – they’re the same.”

The coin rolled to a stop, and Elend picked it up. He could see where Spook had scraped it with a knife, peeling off the gold paint to reveal the dense hardwood beneath. It was a poor representation of a boxing; it was little wonder that the fakes had been so easy to pick out. Only a fool would try to pass them off as real. A fool, or a koloss.

Nobody was certain how some of Jastes’s fake boxings had worked their way up to Luthadel; perhaps he had tried giving them to peasants or beggars in his home dominance. Either way, it was fairly apparent what he was doing. He’d needed an army, and had needed cash. He’d fabricated the one to get the other. Only koloss would have fallen for such a ploy.

“I don’t get it,” Ham said as Elend passed him the coin. “How come the koloss have suddenly decided to take money? The Lord Ruler never paid them.”

Elend paused, thinking back to his experience with the camp. We are humans. We will live in your city…

“The koloss are changing, Ham,” Elend said. “Or maybe we never really understood them in the first place. Either way, we need to be strong. This isn’t over yet.”

“It would be easier to be strong if I knew our Mistborn wasn’t insane. She didn’t even discuss this with us!”

“I know,” Elend said.

Ham rose, shaking his head. “There’s a reason the Great Houses were always so reluctant to use their Mistborn against each other. Things just got a whole lot more dangerous. If Cett does have a Mistborn, and he decides to retaliate…”

“I know,” Elend said again, bidding the two farewell.

Ham waved to Spook, and the two of them left, off to check with Breeze and Clubs.

They all act so glum, Elend thought, leaving his rooms to find something to eat. It’s like they think we’re doomed because of one setback. But, Cett’s withdrawal is a good thing. One of our enemies is leaving – and there are still two armies out there. Jastes won’t attack if doing so exposes him to Straff, and Straff himself is too scared of Vin to do anything. In fact, her attack on Cett will only make my father more frightened. Maybe that’s why she did it.

“Your Majesty?” a voice whispered.

Elend spun, searching the hallway.

“Your Majesty,” said a short figure in the shadows. OreSeur. “I think I’ve found her.”

Elend didn’t bring anyone with him save for a few guards. He didn’t want to explain to Ham and the others how he’d gotten his information; Vin still insisted on keeping OreSeur secret.

Ham’s right about one thing, Elend thought as his carriage pulled to a stop. She is hiding things. She does it all the time.

But that didn’t stop him from trusting her. He nodded to OreSeur, and they left the carriage. Elend waved his guards back as he approached a dilapidated building. It had probably once been a poor merchant’s shop – a place run by extremely low nobility, selling meager necessities to skaa workers in exchange for food tokens, which could in turn be exchanged for money from the Lord Ruler.

The building was in a sector that Elend’s fuel-collection crews hadn’t reached yet. It was obvious, however, that it hadn’t seen a lot of use lately. It had been ransacked long ago, and the ash coating the floor was a good four inches deep. A small trail of footprints led toward a back stairwell.

“What is this place?” Elend asked with a frown.

OreSeur shrugged a pair of dog’s shoulders.

“Then how did you know she was here?”

“I followed her last night, Your Majesty,” OreSeur said. “I saw the general direction she went. After that, it was simply a process of careful searching.”

Elend frowned. “That still must have taken some pretty mean tracking abilities, kandra.”

“These bones have unusually keen senses.”

Elend nodded. The stairwell led up into a long hallway with several rooms at the ends. Elend began to walk down the hallway, then paused. To one side, a panel on the wall had been slid back, revealing a small cubby. He could hear movement within.

“Vin?” he asked, poking his head into the cubby.

There was a small room hidden behind the wall, and Vin sat on the far side. The room – more of a nook – was only a few feet across, and even Vin wouldn’t have been able to stand up in it. She didn’t respond to him. She simply sat, leaning against the far wall, head turned away from him.

Elend crawled inside the small chamber, getting ash on his knees. It was barely large enough for him to enter without bumping into her. “Vin? Are you all right?”

She sat, twisting something between her fingers. And she was looking at the wall – looking through a narrow hole. Elend could see sunlight shining through.

It’s a peephole, he realized. To watch the street below. This isn’t a shop – it’s a thieving hideout. Or, it was.

“I used to think Camon was a terrible man,” Vin said quietly.

Elend paused, on hands and knees. Finally, he settled back into a cramped seated position. At least Vin didn’t look hurt. “Camon?” he asked. “Your old crewleader, before Kelsier?”

Vin nodded. She turned away from the slit, sitting with her arms around her knees. “He beat people, he killed those who disagreed with him. Even among street thugs, he was brutal.”

Elend frowned.

“But,” Vin said quietly, “I doubt he killed as many people during his entire life as I killed last night.”

Elend closed his eyes. Then he opened them and shuffled a little closer, laying a hand on Vin’s shoulder. “Those were enemy soldiers, Vin.”

“I was like a child in a room full of bugs,” Vin whispered. He could finally see what was in her fingers. It was her earring, the simple bronze stud that she always wore. She looked down at it, twisting it between her fingers.

“Did I ever tell you how I got this?” she asked. He shook his head. “My mother gave it to me,” she said. “I don’t remember it happening – Reen told me about it. My mother… she heard voices sometimes. She killed my baby sister, slaughtered her. And that same day she gave me this, one of her own earrings. As if… as if choosing me over my sister. A punishment for one, a twisted present for another.”

Vin shook her head. “My entire life has been death, Elend. Death of my sister, the death of Reen. Crewmembers dead around me, Kelsier falling to the Lord Ruler, then my own spear in the Lord Ruler’s chest. I try to protect, and tell myself that I’m escaping it all. And then… I do something like I did last night.”

Not certain what else to do, Elend pulled her close. She was stiff, however. “You had a good reason for what you did,” he said.

“No I didn’t,” Vin said. “I just wanted to hurt them. I wanted to scare them and make them leave you alone. It sounds childish, but that’s how I felt.”

“It’s not childish, Vin,” Elend said. “It was good strategy. You gave our enemies a show of force. You frightened away one of our major opponents, and now my father will be even more afraid to attack. You’ve bought us more time!”

“Bought it with the lives of hundreds of men.”

“Enemy soldiers who marched into our city,” Elend said. “Men who were protecting a tyrant who oppresses his people.”

“That’s the same rationale Kelsier used,” Vin said quietly, “when he killed noblemen and their guards. He said they were upholding the Final Empire, so they deserved to die. He frightened me.”

Elend didn’t know what to say to that.

“It was like he thought himself a god,” Vin whispered. “Taking life, giving life, where he saw fit. I don’t want to be like him, Elend. But, everything seems to be pushing me in that direction.”

“I…” You’re not like him, he wanted to say. It was true, but the words wouldn’t come out. They rang hollow to him.

Instead, he pulled Vin close, her shoulder up against his chest, head beneath his chin. “I wish I knew the right things to say, Vin,” he whispered. “Seeing you like this makes every protective instinct inside of me twist. I want to make it better – I want to fix everything – but I don’t know how. Tell me what to do. Just tell me how I can help!”

She resisted his embrace a little at first, but then sighed quietly and slid her arms around him, holding him tightly. “You can’t help with this,” she said softly. “I have to do it alone. There are… decisions I have to make.”

He nodded. “You’ll make the right ones, Vin.”

“You don’t even know what I’m deciding.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I know I can’t help – I couldn’t even hold on to my own throne. You’re ten times as capable as I am.”

She squeezed his arm. “Don’t say things like that. Please?”

He frowned at the tension in her voice, then nodded. “All right. But, either way, I trust you, Vin. Make your decisions – I’ll support you.”

She nodded, relaxing a bit beneath his arms. “I think…” she said. “I think I have to leave Luthadel.”

“Leave? And go where?”

“North,” she said. “To Terris.”

Elend sat back, resting against the wooden wall. Leave? he thought with a twisting feeling. Is this what I’ve earned by being so distracted lately?

Have I lost her?

And yet, he’d just told her that he’d support her decisions. “If you feel you have to go, Vin,” he found himself saying, “then you should do so.”

“If I were to leave, would you go with me?”

“Now?”

Vin nodded, head rubbing his chest.

“No,” he finally said. “I couldn’t leave Luthadel, not with those armies still out there.”

“But the city rejected you.”

“I know,” he said, sighing. “But… I can’t leave them, Vin. They rejected me, but I won’t abandon them.”

Vin nodded again, and something told him this was the answer she had expected.

Elend smiled. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

“Hopeless,” she said softly, sighing as she finally pulled away from him. She seemed so tired. Outside the room, Elend could hear footsteps. OreSeur appeared a moment later, poking his head into the hidden chamber.

“Your guards are growing restless, Your Majesty,” he said to Elend. “They will soon come looking for you.”

Elend nodded, shuffling over to the exit. Once in the hallway, he offered a hand to help Vin out. She took the hand, crawling out, then stood and dusted off her clothing – her typical shirt and trousers.

Will she ever go back to dresses now? he wondered.

“Elend,” she said, fishing in a pocket. “Here, you can spend this, if you want.”

She opened up her hand, dropping a bead into his hand.

“Atium?” he asked incredulously. “Where did you get it?”

“From a friend,” she said.

“And you didn’t burn it last night?” Elend asked. “When you were fighting all those soldiers?”

“No,” Vin said. “I swallowed it, but I didn’t end up needing it, so I forced it back up.”

Lord Ruler! Elend thought. I didn’t even consider that she didn’t have atium. What could she have done if she’d burned that bit? He looked up at her. “Some reports say that there’s another Mistborn in the city.”

“There is. Zane.”

Elend dropped the bead back into her hand. “Then keep this. You might need it to fight him.”

“I doubt that,” Vin said quietly.

“Keep it anyway,” Elend said. “This is worth a small fortune – but we’d need a very large fortune to make any difference now. Besides, who would buy it? If I used it to bribe Straff or Cett, they’d only become more certain I’m holding atium against them.”

Vin nodded, then glanced at OreSeur. “Keep this,” she said, handing the bead toward him. “It’s big enough that another Allomancer could pull it off me if he wanted.”

“I will guard it with my life, Mistress,” OreSeur said, his shoulder splitting open to make room for the bit of metal.

Vin turned to join Elend as they walked down the steps, moving to meet with the guards below.

45

“THE HERO OF AGES WON’T be Terris,” Tindwyl said, scribbling a note at the bottom of their list.

“We knew that already,” Sazed said. “From the logbook.”

“Yes,” Tindwyl said, “but Alendi’s account was only a reference – a thirdhand mention of the effects of a prophecy. I found someone quoting the prophecy itself.”

“Truly?” Sazed asked, excited. “Where?”

“The biography of Helenntion,” Tindwyl said. “One of the last survivors of the Council of Khlennium.”

“Write it for me,” Sazed said, scooting his chair a bit closer to hers. He had to blink a few times as she wrote, his head clouding for a moment from fatigue.

Stay alert! he told himself. There isn’t much time left. Not much at all…

Tindwyl was doing a little better than he, but her wakefulness was obviously beginning to run out, for she was starting to droop. He’d taken a quick nap during the night, rolled up on her floor, but she had carried on. As far as he could tell, she’d been awake for over a week straight.

There was much talk of the Rabzeen, during those days, Tindwyl wrote. Some said he would come to fight the Conqueror. Others said he was the Conqueror. Helenntion didn’t make his thoughts on the matter known to me. The Rabzeen is said to be “He who is not of his people, yet fulfills all of their wishes.” If this is the case, then perhaps the Conqueror is the one. He is said to have been of Khlennium.

She stopped there. Sazed frowned, reading the words again. Kwaan’s last testimony – the rubbing Sazed had taken at the Conventical of Seran – had proven useful in more than one way. It had provided a key.

It wasn’t until years later that I became convinced that he was the Hero of Ages, Kwaan had written. Hero of Ages: the one called Rabzeen in Khlennium, the Anamnesor…

The rubbing was a means of translation – not between languages, but between synonyms. It made sense that there would be other names for the Hero of Ages; a figure so important, so surrounded by lore, would have many titles. Yet, so much had been lost from those days. The Rabzeen and the Anamnesor were both mythological figures vaguely familiar to Sazed – but they were only two among hosts. Until the discovery of the rubbing, there had been no way to connect their names to the Hero of Ages.

Now Tindwyl and he could search their metalminds with open eyes. Perhaps, in the past, Sazed had read this very passage from Helenntion’s biography; he had at least skimmed many of the older records, searching for religious references. Yet, he would never have been able to realize that the passage was referring to the Hero of Ages, a figure from Terris lore that the Khlenni people had renamed into their own tongue.

“Yes…” he said slowly. “This is good, Tindwyl. Very good.” He reached over, laying his hand on hers.

“Perhaps,” she said, “though it tells us nothing new.”

“Ah, but the wording might be important, I think,” Sazed said. “Religions are often very careful with their writings.”

“Especially prophecies,” Tindwyl said, frowning just a bit. She was not fond of anything that smacked of superstition or soothsaying.

“I would have thought,” Sazed noted, “that you would no longer have this prejudice, considering our current enterprise.”

“I gather information, Sazed,” she said. “Because of what it says of people, and because of what the past can teach us. However, there is a reason I took to studying history as opposed to theology. I don’t approve of perpetuating lies.”

“Is that what you think I do when I teach of religions?” he asked in amusement.

Tindwyl looked toward him. “A bit,” she admitted. “How can you teach the people to look toward the gods of the dead, Sazed? Those religions did their people little good, and their prophecies are now dust.”

“Religions are an expression of hope,” Sazed said. “That hope gives people strength.”

“Then you don’t believe?” Tindwyl asked. “You just give the people something to trust, something to delude themselves?”

“I would not call it so.”

“Then you think the gods you teach of do exist?”

“I… think that they deserved to be remembered.”

“And their prophecies?” Tindwyl said. “I see scholarly value in what we do – the bringing to light of facts from the past could give us information about our current problems. Yet, this soothsaying for the future is, at its core, foolishness.”

“I would not say that,” Sazed said. “Religions are promises – promises that there is something watching over us, guiding us. Prophecies, therefore, are natural extensions of the hopes and desires of the people. Not foolishness at all.”

“So, your interest is purely academic?” Tindwyl said.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Tindwyl studied him, watching his eyes. She frowned slowly. “You believe it, don’t you?” she asked. “You believe that this girl is the Hero of Ages.”

“I have not yet decided,” Sazed said.

“How can you even consider such a thing, Sazed?” Tindwyl asked. “Don’t you see? Hope is a good thing – a wonderful thing – but you must have hope in something appropriate. If you perpetuate the dreams of the past, then you stifle your own dreams of the future.”

“What if the past dreams are worthy of being remembered?”

Tindwyl shook her head. “Look at the odds, Sazed. What are the chances we would end up where we are, studying this rubbing, in the very same household as the Hero of Ages?”

“Odds are irrelevant when a foretelling is involved.”

Tindwyl closed her eyes. “Sazed… I think religion is a good thing, and belief is a good thing, but it is foolishness to look for guidance in a few vague phrases. Look at what happened last time someone assumed they had found this Hero. The Lord Ruler, the Final Empire, was the result.”

“Still, I will hope. If you did not believe the prophecies, then why work so hard to discover information about the Deepness and the Hero?”

“It’s simple,” Tindwyl said. “We are obviously facing a danger that has come before – a recurring problem, like a plague that plays itself out, only to return again centuries later. The ancient people knew of this danger, and had information about it. That information, naturally, broke down and became legends, prophecies, and even religions. There will be, then, clues to our situation hidden in the past. This is not a matter of soothsaying, but of research.”

Sazed lay his hand on hers. “I think, perhaps, that this is something we cannot agree upon. Come, let us return to our studies. We must use the time we have left.”

“We should be all right,” Tindwyl said, sighing and reaching to tuck a bit of hair back into her bun. “Apparently, your Hero scared off Lord Cett last night. The maid who brought breakfast was speaking of it.”

“I know of the event,” Sazed said.

“Then things are growing better for Luthadel.”

“Yes,” Sazed said. “Perhaps.”

She frowned. “You seem hesitant.”

“I do not know,” he said, glancing down. “I do not feel that Cett’s departure is a good thing, Tindwyl. Something is very wrong. We need to be finished with these studies.”

Tindwyl cocked her head. “How soon?”

“We should try to be done tonight, I think,” Sazed said, glancing toward the pile of unbound sheets they had stacked on the table. That stack contained all the notes, ideas, and connections that they’d made during their furious bout of study. It was a book, of sorts – a guidebook that told of the Hero of Ages and the Deepness. It was a good document – incredible, even, considering the time they’d been given. It was not comprehensive. It was, however, probably the most important thing he’d ever written.

Even if he wasn’t certain why.

“Sazed?” Tindwyl asked, frowning. “What is this?” She reached to the stack of papers, pulling out a sheet that was slightly askew. As she held it up, Sazed was shocked to see that a chunk from the bottom right corner had been torn off.

“Did you do this?” she asked.

“No,” Sazed said. He accepted the paper. It was one of the transcriptions of the rubbing; the tear had removed the last sentence or so. There was no sign of the missing piece.

Sazed looked up, meeting Tindwyl’s confused gaze. She turned, shuffling through a stack of papers to the side. She pulled out another copy of the transcription and held it up.

Sazed felt a chill. The corner was missing.

“I referenced this yesterday,” Tindwyl said quietly. “I haven’t left the room save for a few minutes since then, and you were always here.”

“Did you leave last night?” Sazed asked. “To visit the privy while I slept?”

“Perhaps. I don’t remember.”

Sazed sat for a moment, staring at the page. The tear was eerily similar in shape to the one from their main stack. Tindwyl, apparently thinking the same thing, laid it over its companion. It matched perfectly; even the smallest ridges in the tears were identical. Even if they’d been torn lying right on top of one another, the duplication wouldn’t have been so perfect.

Both of them sat, staring. Then they burst into motion, riffling through their stacks of pages. Sazed had four copies of the transcription. All were missing the same exact chunk.

“Sazed…” Tindwyl said, her voice shaking just a bit. She held up a sheet of paper – one that had only half of the transcription on it, ending near the middle of the page. A hole had been torn directly in the middle of the page, removing the exact same sentence.

“The rubbing!” Tindwyl said, but Sazed was already moving. He left his chair, rushing to the trunk where he stored his metalminds. He fumbled with the key at his neck, pulling it off and unlocking the trunk. He threw it open, removed the rubbing, then unfolded it delicately on the ground. He withdrew his fingers suddenly, feeling almost as if he’d been bitten, as he saw the tear at the bottom. The same sentence, removed.

“How is this possible?” Tindwyl whispered. “How could someone know so much of our work – so much of us?”

“And yet,” Sazed said, “how could they know so little of our abilities? I have the entire transcription stored in my metalmind. I can remember it right now.”

“What does the missing sentence say?”

“ ‘Alendi must not reach the Well of Ascension; he must not be allowed to take the power for himself.’ ”

“Why remove this sentence?” Tindwyl asked.

Sazed stared at the rubbing. This seems impossible…

A noise sounded at the window. Sazed spun, reaching reflexively into his pewtermind and increasing his strength. His muscles swelled, his robe growing tight.

The shutters swung open. Vin crouched on the sill. She paused as she saw Sazed and Tindwyl – who had also apparently tapped strength, growing to have almost masculine bulk.

“Did I do something wrong?” Vin asked.

Sazed smiled, releasing his pewtermind. “No, child,” he said. “You simply startled us.” He met Tindwyl’s eye, and she began to gather up the ripped pieces of paper. Sazed folded up the rubbing; they would discuss it further later.

“Have you seen anyone spending too much time around my room, Lady Vin?” Sazed asked as he replaced the rubbing. “Any strangers – or even any particular guards?”

“No,” Vin said, climbing into the room. She walked barefoot, as usual, and she didn’t wear her mistcloak; she rarely did in the daytime. If she had fought the night before, she had changed clothing, for there were no stains of blood – or even sweat – on this outfit. “Do you want me to watch for anyone suspicious?” she asked.

“Yes, please,” Sazed said, locking the chest. “We fear that someone has been riffling through our work, though why they would wish to do so is confusing.”

Vin nodded, remaining where she was as Sazed returned to his seat. She regarded him and Tindwyl for a moment.

“I need to talk to you, Sazed,” Vin said.

“I can spare a few moments, I think,” Sazed said. “But, I must warn you that my studies are very pressing.”

Vin nodded, then glanced at Tindwyl. Finally, she sighed, rising. “I guess I will go and see about lunch, then.”

Vin relaxed slightly as the door closed; then she moved over to the table, sitting down in Tindwyl’s chair, pulling her legs up before her on the wooden seat.

“Sazed,” she asked, “how do you know if you’re in love?”

Sazed blinked. “I… I do not think I am one to speak on this topic, Lady Vin. I know very little about it.”

“You always say things like that,” Vin said. “But really, you’re an expert on just about everything.”

Sazed chuckled. “In this case, I assure you that my insecurity is heartfelt, Lady Vin.”

“Still, you’ve got to know something.”

“A bit, perhaps,” Sazed said. “Tell me, how do you feel when you are with young Lord Venture?”

“I want him to hold me,” Vin said quietly, turning to the side, looking out the window. “I want him to talk to me, even if I don’t understand what he’s saying. Anything to keep him there, with me. I want to be better because of him.”

“That seems like a very good sign, Lady Vin.”

“But…” Vin glanced down. “I’m not good for him, Sazed. He’s scared of me.”

“Scared?”

“Well, he’s at least uncomfortable with me. I saw the look in his eyes when he saw me fighting on the day of the Assembly attack. He stumbled away from me, Sazed, horrified.”

“He’d just seen a man slain,” Sazed said. “Lord Venture is somewhat innocent in these matters, Lady Vin. It wasn’t you, I think – it was simply a natural reaction to the horror of death.”

“Either way,” Vin said, glancing back out the window. “I don’t want him to see me that way. I want to be the girl he needs – the girl who can support his political plans. The girl who can be pretty when he needs her on his arm, and who can comfort him when he’s frustrated. Except, that’s not me. You’re the one who trained me to act like a courtly woman, Saze, but we both know that I wasn’t all that good at it.”

“And Lord Venture fell in love with you,” Sazed said, “because you didn’t act like the other women. Despite Lord Kelsier’s interference, despite your knowledge that all noblemen were our enemies, Elend fell in love with you.”

“I shouldn’t have let him,” Vin said quietly. “I need to stay away from him, Saze – for his own good. That way, he can fall in love with someone else. Someone who is a better match for him. Someone who doesn’t go kill a hundred people when she gets frustrated. Someone who deserves his love.”

Sazed rose, robes swishing as he stepped to Vin’s chair. He stooped down, placing his head even with hers, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Oh, child. When will you stop worrying and simply let yourself be loved?”

Vin shook her head. “It’s not that easy.”

“Few things are. Yet, I tell you this, Lady Vin. Love must be allowed to flow both ways – if it is not, then it is not truly love, I think. It is something else. Infatuation, perhaps? Either way, there are some of us who are far too quick to make martyrs of ourselves. We stand at the side, watching, thinking that we do the right thing by inaction. We fear pain – our own, or that of another.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “But… is that love? Is it love to assume for Elend that he has no place with you? Or, is it love to let him make his own decision in the matter?”

“And if I’m wrong for him?” Vin asked.

“You must love him enough to trust his wishes, even if you disagree with them. You must respect him – no matter how wrong you think he may be, no matter how poor you think his decisions, you must respect his desire to make them. Even if one of them includes loving you.”

Vin smiled slightly, but she still seemed troubled. “And…” she said very slowly, “if there is someone else? For me?”

“Ah…”

She tensed immediately. “You mustn’t tell Elend I said that.”

“I won’t,” Sazed promised. “Who is this other man?”

Vin shrugged. “Just… someone more like myself. The kind of man I should be with.”

“Do you love him?”

“He’s strong,” Vin said. “He makes me think of Kelsier.”

So there is another Mistborn, Sazed thought. In this matter, he knew he should remain unbiased. He didn’t know enough about this second man to make a judgment – and Keepers were supposed to give information, but avoid specific advice.

Sazed, however, had never been very good at following that rule. He didn’t know this other Mistborn, true, but he did know Elend Venture. “Child,” he said, “Elend is the best of men, and you have been so much happier since you’ve been with him.”

“But, he’s really the first man I loved,” Vin said quietly. “How do I know it’s right? Shouldn’t I pay more attention to the man who is a better match for me?”

“I don’t know, Lady Vin. I honestly don’t know. I warned you of my ignorance in this area. But, can you really hope to find a better person than Lord Elend?”

She sighed. “It’s all so frustrating. I should be worrying about the city and the Deepness, not which man to spend my evenings with!”

“It is hard to defend others when our own lives are in turmoil,” Sazed said.

“I just have to decide,” Vin said, standing, walking over toward the window. “Thank you, Sazed. Thank you for listening… thank you for coming back to the city.”

Sazed nodded, smiling. Vin shot backward out the open window, shoving herself against some bit of metal. Sazed sighed, rubbing his eyes as he walked over to the room’s door and pulled it open.

Tindwyl stood outside, arms crossed. “I think I would feel more comfortable in this city,” she said, “if I didn’t know that our Mistborn had the volatile emotions of a teenage girl.”

“Lady Vin is more stable than you think,” Sazed said.

“Sazed, I’ve raised some fifteen daughters,” Tindwyl said, entering the room. “No teenage girl is stable. Some are just better at hiding it than others.”

“Then, be glad she didn’t hear you eavesdropping,” Sazed said. “She is usually rather paranoid about such things.”

“Vin has a weak spot regarding Terris people,” Tindwyl said with a wave of her hand. “We can likely thank you for that. She seems to give great value to your advice.”

“Such as it is.”

“I thought what you said was very wise, Sazed,” Tindwyl said, sitting. “You would have made an excellent father.”

Sazed bowed his head in embarrassment, then moved over to sit down. “We should–”

A knock came at the door.

“Now what?” Tindwyl asked.

“Did you not order us lunch?”

Tindwyl shook her head. “I never even left the hallway.”

A second later, Elend poked his head into the room. “Sazed? Could I talk to you for a bit?”

“Of course, Lord Elend,” Sazed said, rising.

“Great,” Elend said, striding into the room. “Tindwyl, you are excused.”

She rolled her eyes, shooting an exasperated glance at Sazed, but stood and walked from the room.

“Thank you,” Elend said as she shut the door. “Please, sit,” he said, waving to Sazed.

Sazed did so, and Elend took a deep breath, standing with hands clasped behind his back. He had gone back to his white uniforms, and stood with a commanding posture despite his obvious frustration.

Someone stole my friend the scholar away, Sazed thought, and left a king in his place. “I assume this is about Lady Vin, Lord Elend?”

“Yes,” Elend said, beginning to pace, gesturing with one hand as he spoke. “She doesn’t make any sense, Sazed. I expect that – hell, I count on it. She’s not just female, she’s Vin. But, I’m left unsure how to react. One minute she seems warm to me – like we were before this mess hit the city – and the next minute she’s distant and stiff.”

“Perhaps she’s just confused herself.”

“Perhaps,” Elend agreed. “But shouldn’t at least one of us know what is going on in our relationship? Honestly, Saze, sometimes I just think we’re too different to be together.”

Sazed smiled. “Oh, I don’t know about that, Lord Elend. You may be surprised at how similarly the two of you think.”

“I doubt that,” Elend said, continuing to pace. “She’s Mistborn; I’m just a regular man. She grew up on the streets; I grew up in a mansion. She is wily and clever; I’m book-learned.”

“She is extremely competent, and so are you,” Sazed said. “She was oppressed by her brother, you by your father. Both of you hated the Final Empire, and fought it. And both of you think far too much about what should be, rather than what is.”

Elend paused, looking at Sazed. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I think you two are right for each other,” Sazed said. “I am not supposed to make such judgments, and truly, this is just the opinion of a man who hasn’t seen much of you two in the last few months. But, I believe it to be true.”

“And our differences?” Elend asked.

“At first glance, the key and the lock it fits may seem very different,” Sazed said. “Different in shape, different in function, different in design. The man who looks at them without knowledge of their true nature might think them opposites, for one is meant to open, and the other to keep closed. Yet, upon closer examination, he might see that without one, the other becomes useless. The wise man then sees that both lock and key were created for the same purpose.”

Elend smiled. “You need to write a book sometime, Sazed. That’s as profound as anything I’ve read.”

Sazed flushed, but glanced at the stack of papers on the desktop. Would they be his legacy? He wasn’t certain if they were profound, but they did represent the most cohesive attempt that he’d ever made at writing something original. True, most of the sheets contained quotes or references, but a great deal of the text also included his thoughts and annotations.

“So,” Elend said, “what should I do?”

“About Lady Vin?” Sazed asked. “I would suggest simply giving her – and yourself – a little more time.”

“Time is at a premium these days, Saze.”

“When is it not?”

“When your city isn’t besieged by two armies,” Elend said, “one of them led by a megalomaniac tyrant, the other by a reckless fool.”

“Yes,” Sazed said slowly. “Yes, I think you may be right. I should return to my studies.”

Elend frowned. “What are you working on, anyway?”

“Something that has little relevance to your current problem, I fear,” Sazed said. “Tindwyl and I are collecting and compiling references about the Deepness and the Hero of Ages.”

“The Deepness… Vin mentioned it, too. You really think it might return?”

“I think it has returned, Lord Elend,” Sazed said. “It never left, really. I believe the Deepness was – is – the mists.”

“But, why…” Elend said, then held up a hand. “I’ll read your conclusions when you have finished. I can’t afford to get sidetracked right now. Thank you, Sazed, for your advice.”

Yes, a king indeed, Sazed thought.

“Tindwyl,” Elend said, “you may come back in now. Sazed, good day.” Elend turned toward the door, and it cracked open slowly. Tindwyl strode in, hiding her embarrassment.

“How did you know I was out there?” she asked.

“I guessed,” Elend said. “You’re as bad as Vin. Anyway, good day, both of you.”

Tindwyl frowned as he left; then she glanced at Sazed.

“You really did do a fine job with him,” Sazed said.

“Too fine a job,” Tindwyl said, sitting. “I actually think that if the people had let him remain in command, he might have found a way to save the city. Come, we must return to work – this time, I actually did send someone for lunch, so we should get as much done as possible before it arrives.”

Sazed nodded, seating himself and picking up his pen. Yet, he found it difficult to focus on his work. His mind kept returning to Vin and Elend. He wasn’t certain why it was so important to him that they make their relationship work. Perhaps it was simply because they were both friends of his, and he wished to see them happy.

Or perhaps there was something else. Those two were the best Luthadel had to offer. The most powerful Mistborn of the skaa underground, and the most noble leader of the aristocratic culture. They needed each other, and the Final Empire needed them both.

Plus, there was the work he was doing. The specific pronoun used in much of the Terris prophetic language was gender neutral. The actual word meant “it,” though it was commonly translated into modern tongues as “he.” Yet each “he” in his book could also have been written as “she.” If Vin really was the Hero of Ages…

I need to find a way to get them out of the city, Sazed thought, a sudden realization washing over him. Those two must not be here when Luthadel falls.

He put aside his notes and immediately began writing a quick series of letters.

46

BREEZE COULD SMELL INTRIGUE FROM two streets away. Unlike many of his fellow thieves, he hadn’t grown up impoverished, nor had he been forced to live in the underground. He’d grown up in a place far more cutthroat: an aristocratic court. Fortunately, the other crewmembers didn’t treat him differently because of his full-blooded noble origin.

That was, of course, because they didn’t know about it.

His upbringing afforded him certain understandings. Things that he doubted any skaa thief, no matter how competent, knew. Skaa intrigue made a brutal kind of sense; it was a matter of naked life and death. You betrayed your allies for money, for power, or to protect yourself.

In the noble courts, intrigue was more abstract. Betrayals wouldn’t often end with either party dead, but the ramifications could span generations. It was a game – so much of one, in fact, that the young Breeze had found the open brutality of the skaa underground to be refreshing.

He sipped his warm mug of mulled wine, eyeing the note in his fingers. He’d come to believe that he wouldn’t have to worry about intracrew conspiracies anymore: Kelsier’s crew was an almost sickeningly tight group, and Breeze did everything within his Allomantic powers to keep it that way. He’d seen what infighting could do to a family.

That was why he was so surprised to receive this letter. Despite its mock innocence, he could easily pick out the signs. The hurried pace of the writing, smudged in places but not rewritten. Phrases like “No need to tell others of this” and “do not wish to cause alarm.” The extra drops of sealing wax, spread gratuitously on the lip of the letter, as if to give extra protection against prying eyes.

There was no mistaking the tone of the missive. Breeze had been invited to a conspiratorial conference. But, why in the Lord Ruler’s name would Sazed, of all people, want to meet in secret?

Breeze sighed, pulling out his dueling cane and using it to steady himself. He grew light-headed sometimes when he stood; it was a minor malady he’d always had, though it seemed to have grown worse during the last few years. He glanced over his shoulder as his vision cleared, toward where Allrianne slept in his bed.

I should probably feel more guilty about her, he thought, smiling despite himself and reaching to put his vest and jacket on over his trousers and shirt. But… well, we’re all going to be dead in a few days anyway. An afternoon spent speaking with Clubs could certainly put one’s life in perspective.

Breeze wandered out into the hallway, making his way though the gloomy, inadequately lit Venture passageways. Honestly, he thought, I understand the value in saving lamp oil, but things are depressing enough right now without the dark corridors.

The meeting place was only a few short twists away. Breeze located it easily because of the two soldiers standing watch outside the door. Demoux’s men – soldiers who reported to the captain religiously, as well as vocationally.

Interesting, Breeze thought, remaining hidden in the side hallway. He quested out with his Allomantic powers and Soothed the men, taking away their relaxation and certainty, leaving behind anxiety and nervousness. The guards began to grow restless, shuffling. Finally, one turned and opened the door, checking on the room inside. The motion gave Breeze a full view of the room’s contents. Only one man sat within. Sazed.

Breeze stood quietly, trying to decide his next course of action. There was nothing incriminating in the letter; this couldn’t all simply be a trap on Elend’s part, could it? An obscure attempt at finding out which crewmembers would betray him and which wouldn’t? Seemed like too distrustful a move for the good-natured boy. Besides, if that were the case, Sazed would have to try and get Breeze to do more than simply meet in a clandestine location.

The door swung closed, the soldier returning to his place. I can trust Sazed, can’t I? Breeze thought. But, if that was the case, why the quiet meeting? Was Breeze overreacting?

No, the guards proved that Sazed worried about this meeting being discovered. It was suspicious. If it were anyone else, Breeze would have gone straight to Elend. But Sazed…

Breeze sighed, then wandered into the hallway, dueling cane clicking against the floor. Might as well see what he has to say. Besides, if he is planning something devious, it’d almost be worth the danger to see it. Despite the letter, despite the strange circumstances, Breeze had trouble imagining a Terrisman being involved in something that wasn’t completely honest.

Perhaps the Lord Ruler had had the same problem.

Breeze nodded to the soldiers, Soothing away their anxiety and restoring them to a more temperate humor. There was another reason why he was willing to chance the meeting. Breeze was only just beginning to realize how dangerous his predicament was. Luthadel would soon fall. Every instinct he’d nurtured during thirty years in the underground was telling him to run.

That feeling made him more likely to take risks. The Breeze of a few years earlier would already have abandoned the city. Damn you, Kelsier, he thought as he pushed open the door.

Sazed looked up with surprise from his table. The room was sparse, with several chairs and only two lamps. “You’re early, Lord Breeze,” Sazed said, standing quickly.

“Of course I am,” Breeze snapped. “I had to make certain this wasn’t a trap of some sort.” He paused. “This isn’t a trap of some sort, right?”

“Trap?” Sazed asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, don’t sound so shocked,” Breeze said. “This is no simple meeting.”

Sazed wilted slightly. “It’s… that obvious, is it?”

Breeze sat, laying his cane across his lap, and eyed Sazed tellingly, Soothing the man to make him feel a little more self-conscious. “You may have helped us overthrow the Lord Ruler, my dear man – but you have a lot to learn about being sneaky.”

“I apologize,” Sazed said, sitting. “I simply wanted to meet quickly, to discuss certain… sensitive issues.”

“Well, I’d recommend getting rid of those guards,” Breeze said. “They make the room stand out. Then, light a few more lamps and get us something to eat or drink. If Elend walks in – I assume it’s Elend we’re hiding from?”

“Yes.”

“Well, if he comes and sees us sitting here in the dark, eyeing each other insidiously, he’ll know something is up. The less natural the occasion, the more natural you want to appear.”

“Ah, I see,” Sazed said. “Thank you.”

The door opened and Clubs hobbled in. He eyed Breeze, then Sazed, then wandered over toward a chair. Breeze glanced at Sazed – no surprise there. Clubs was obviously invited as well.

“Lose those guards,” Clubs snapped.

“Immediately, Lord Cladent,” Sazed said, standing and shuffling over to the door. He spoke briefly with the guards, then returned. As Sazed was sitting, Ham poked his head into the room, looking suspicious.

“Wait a minute,” Breeze said. “How many people are coming to this secret meeting?”

Sazed gestured for Ham to sit. “All of the more… experienced members of the crew.”

“You mean everyone but Elend and Vin,” Breeze said.

“I did not invite Lord Lestibournes either,” Sazed said.

Yes, but Spook isn’t the one we’re hiding from.

Ham sat down hesitantly, shooting a questioning glance at Breeze. “So… why exactly are we meeting behind the backs of our Mistborn and our king?”

“King no longer,” a voice noted from the door. Dockson walked in and sat. “In fact, it could be argued that Elend isn’t leader of this crew anymore. He fell into that position by happenstance – just like he fell into the throne.”

Ham flushed. “I know you don’t like him, Dox, but I’m not here to talk treason.”

“There’s no treason if there’s no throne to betray,” Dockson said, sitting. “What are we going to do – stay here and be servants in his house? Elend doesn’t need us. Perhaps it’s time to transfer our services to Lord Penrod.”

“Penrod is a nobleman, too,” Ham said. “You can’t tell me you like him any better than you do Elend.”

Dockson thumped the table quietly with his fist. “It’s not about who I like, Ham. It’s about seeing that this damn kingdom Kelsier threw at us remains standing! We’ve spent a year and a half cleaning up his mess. Do you want to see that work wasted?”

“Please, gentlemen,” Sazed said, trying – without success – to break into the conversation.

“Work, Dox?” Ham said, flushed. “What work have you done? I haven’t seen you do much of anything besides sit and complain every time someone offers a plan.”

“Complain?” Dockson snapped. “Do you have any idea how much administrative work it has taken to keep this city from falling upon itself? What have you done, Ham? You refused to take command of the army. All you do is drink and spar with your friends!”

That’s enough of that, Breeze thought, Soothing the men. At this rate, we’ll strangle each other before Straff can have us executed.

Dockson settled back in his chair, waving a dismissive hand at Ham, who still sat red-faced. Sazed waited, obviously chagrined by the outbreak. Breeze Soothed away his insecurity. You’re in charge here, Sazed. Tell us what is going on.

“Please,” Sazed said. “I did not bring us together so that we could argue. I understand that you are all tense – that is understandable, considering the circumstances.”

“Penrod is going to give our city to Straff,” Ham said.

“That’s better than letting him slaughter us,” Dockson countered.

“Actually,” Breeze said, “I don’t think we have to worry about Straff slaughtering us.”

“No?” Dockson asked, frowning. “Do you have some information you haven’t been sharing with us, Breeze?”

“Oh, get over yourself, Dox,” Ham snapped. “You’ve never been happy that you didn’t end up in charge when Kell died. That’s the real reason you never liked Elend, isn’t it?”

Dockson flushed, and Breeze sighed, slapping both of them with a powerful blanket Soothing. They both jumped slightly, as if they’d been stung – though the sensation would be quite the opposite. Their emotions, once volatile, would suddenly have become numb and unresponsive.

Both looked at Breeze.

“Yes,” he said, “of course I’m Soothing you. Honestly, I know Hammond is a bit immature – but you, Dockson?”

Dockson sat back, rubbing his forehead. “You can let go, Breeze,” he said after a moment. “I’ll keep my tongue.”

Ham just grumbled, settling one hand on the table. Sazed watched the exchange with a little bit of shock.

This is what cornered men are like, my dear Terrisman, Breeze thought. This is what happens when they lose hope. They might be able to keep up appearances in front of the soldiers, but put them alone with their friends…

Sazed was a Terrisman; his entire life had been one of oppression and loss. But these men, Breeze himself included, were accustomed to success. Even against overwhelming odds, they were confident. They were the type of men who could go up against a god, and expect to win. They wouldn’t deal well with losing. Of course, when losing meant death, who would?

“Straff’s armies are getting ready to break camp,” Clubs finally said. “He’s doing it subtly, but the signs are there.”

“So, he’s coming for the city,” Dockson said. “My men in Penrod’s palace say the Assembly has been sending missive after missive to Straff, all but begging him to come take up occupation of Luthadel.”

“He’s not going to take the city,” Clubs said. “At least, not if he’s smart.”

“Vin is still a threat,” Breeze said. “And it doesn’t look like Straff has a Mistborn to protect him. If he came into Luthadel, I doubt there is a single thing he could do to keep her from slitting his throat. So, he’ll do something else.”

Dockson frowned, and glanced at Ham, who shrugged.

“It’s really quite simple,” Breeze said, tapping the table with his dueling cane.

“Why, even I figured it out.” Clubs snorted at this. “If Straff makes it look like he’s withdrawing, the koloss will probably attack Luthadel for him. They’re too literal to understand the threat of a hidden army.”

“If Straff withdraws,” Clubs said, “Jastes won’t be able to keep them from the city.”

Dockson blinked. “But they’d…”

“Slaughter?” Clubs asked. “Yes. They’d pillage the richest sectors of the town – probably end up killing most of the noblemen in the city.”

“Eliminating the men that Straff has been forced – against his will, knowing that man’s pride – to work with,” Breeze added. “In fact, there’s a good chance the creatures will kill Vin. Can you imagine her not joining the fight if koloss broke in?”

The room fell silent.

“But, that doesn’t really help Straff get the city,” Dockson said. “He’ll still have to fight the koloss.”

“Yes,” Clubs said, scowling. “But, they’ll probably take down some of the city gates, not to mention level a lot of the homes. That will leave Straff with a clear field to attack a weakened foe. Plus, koloss don’t strategize – for them, city walls won’t be much help. Straff couldn’t ask for a better setup.”

“He’d be seen as a liberator,” Breeze said quietly. “If he returns at the right time – after the koloss have broken into the city and fought the soldiers, but before they’ve done serious damage to the skaa quarter – he could free the people and establish himself as their protector, not their conqueror. Knowing how the people feel, I think they’d welcome him. Right now, a strong leader would mean more to them than coins in their pockets and rights in the Assembly.”

As the group thought on this, Breeze eyed Sazed, who still sat quietly. He’d said so little; what was his game? Why gather the crew? Was he subtle enough to know that they’d simply needed to have an honest discussion like this, without Elend’s morals to clutter things up?

“We could just let Straff have it,” Dockson finally said. “The city, I mean. We could promise to call Vin off. If that is where this is heading anyway…”

“Dox,” Ham said quietly, “what would Kell think, to hear you talk like that?”

“We could give the city to Jastes Lekal,” Breeze said. “Perhaps he can be persuaded to treat the skaa with dignity.”

“And let twenty thousand koloss into the city?” Ham asked. “Breeze, have you ever seen what those things can do?”

Dockson pounded the table. “I’m just giving options, Ham. What else are we going to do?”

“Fight,” Clubs said. “And die.”

The room fell silent again.

“You sure know how to kill a conversation, my friend,” Breeze finally said.

“It needed to be said,” Clubs muttered. “No use fooling yourselves anymore. We can’t win a fight, and a fight is where this was always going. The city is going to get attacked. We’re going to defend it. And we’ll lose.

“You wonder if we should just give up. Well, we’re not going to do that. Kell wouldn’t let us, and so we won’t let ourselves. We’ll fight, and we’ll die with dignity. Then, the city will burn – but we’ll have said something. The Lord Ruler pushed us around for a thousand years, but now we skaa have pride. We fight. We resist. And we die.”

“What was this all worth, then?” Ham said with frustration. “Why overthrow the Final Empire? Why kill the Lord Ruler? Why do anything, if it was just going to end like this? Tyrants ruling every dominance, Luthadel smashed to rubble, our crew dead?”

“Because,” Sazed said softly, “someone had to begin it. While the Lord Ruler ruled, society could not progress. He kept a stabilizing hand on the empire, but it was an oppressive hand as well. Fashion stayed remarkably unchanged for a thousand years, the noblemen always trying to fit the Lord Ruler’s ideals. Architecture and science did not progress, for the Lord Ruler frowned on change and invention.

“And the skaa could not be free, for he would not let them. However, killing him did not free our peoples, my friends. Only time will do that. It will take centuries, perhaps – centuries of fighting, learning, and growth. At the beginning, unfortunately and unavoidably, things will be very difficult. Worse even than they were beneath the Lord Ruler.”

“And we die for nothing,” Ham said with a scowl.

“No,” Sazed said. “Not nothing, Lord Hammond. We will die to show that there are skaa who will not be bullied, who will not back down. This is a very important precedent, I think. In the histories and legends, this is the kind of event that inspires. If the skaa are ever to take rule of themselves, there will need to be sacrifices they can look to for motivation. Sacrifices like that of the Survivor himself.”

The men sat in silence.

“Breeze,” Ham said, “I could use a little more confidence right now.”

“Of course,” Breeze said, carefully Soothing away the man’s anxiety and fear. His face lost some of its pale pallor, and he sat up a little straighter. Just for good measure, Breeze gave the rest of the crew a little of the same treatment.

“How long have you known?” Dockson asked Sazed.

“For some time now, Lord Dockson,” Sazed said.

“But, you couldn’t have known that Straff would pull back and give us to the koloss. Only Clubs figured that out.”

“My knowledge was general, Lord Breeze,” Sazed said in his even voice. “It did not relate to the koloss specifically. I have thought for some time that this city would fall. In all honesty, I am deeply impressed with your efforts. This people should long since have been defeated, I think. You have done something grand – something that will be remembered for centuries.”

“Assuming anyone survives to tell the story,” Clubs noted.

Sazed nodded. “That, actually, is why I called this gathering. There is little chance of those of us who remain in the city surviving – we will be needed to help with defenses, and if we do survive the koloss attack, Straff will try to execute us. However, it is not necessary for us all to remain in Luthadel for its fall – someone, perhaps, should be sent out to organize further resistance against the warlords.”

“I won’t leave my men,” Clubs grumbled.

“Nor I,” Ham said. “Though I did send my family to ground yesterday.” The simple phrase meant that he’d had them leave, perhaps to hide in the city’s underground, perhaps to escape through one of the passwalls. Ham wouldn’t know – and that way he couldn’t betray their location. Old habits died hard.

“If this city falls,” Dockson said, “I’ll be here with it. That’s what Kell would expect. I’m not leaving.”

“I’ll go,” Breeze said, looking at Sazed. “Is it too early to volunteer?”

“Um, actually, Lord Breeze,” Sazed said, “I wasn’t–”

Breeze held up a hand. “It’s all right, Sazed. I believe it’s obvious whom you think should be sent away. You didn’t invite them to the meeting.”

Dockson frowned. “We’re going to defend Luthadel to the death, and you want to send away our only Mistborn?”

Sazed nodded his head. “My lords,” he said softly, “the men of this city will need our leadership. We gave them this city and put them in this predicament. We cannot abandon them now. But… there are great things at work in this world. Greater things than us, I think. I am convinced that Mistress Vin is part of them.

“Even if these matters are delusions on my part, then Lady Vin still must not be allowed to die in this city. She is the people’s most personal and powerful link to the Survivor. She has become a symbol to them, and her skills as a Mistborn give her the best chance of being able to get away, then survive the attacks Straff will undoubtedly send. She will be a great value in the fight to come – she can move quickly and stealthily, and can fight alone, doing much damage, as she proved last night.”

Sazed bowed his head. “My lords, I called you here today so that we could decide how to convince her to run, when the rest of us stay to fight. It will not be an easy task, I think.”

“She won’t leave Elend,” Ham said. “He’ll have to go, too.”

“My thoughts as well, Lord Hammond,” Sazed said.

Clubs chewed his lip in thought. “That boy won’t be easily convinced to flee. He still thinks we can win this fight.”

“And we may yet,” Sazed said. “My lords, my purpose is not to leave you without any hope at all. But, the dire circumstances, the likelihood of success…”

“We know, Sazed,” Breeze said. “We understand.”

“There have to be others of the crew who can go,” Ham said, looking down. “More than just the two.”

“I would send Tindwyl with them,” Sazed said. “She will carry to my people many discoveries of great importance. I also plan to send Lord Lestibournes. He would do little good in the battle, and his abilities as a spy could be of help to Lady Vin and Lord Elend as they try to rally resistance among the skaa.

“However, those four will not be the only ones who survive. Most of the skaa should be safe – Jastes Lekal seems to be able to control his koloss somehow. Even if he cannot, then Straff should arrive in time to protect the city’s people.”

“Assuming Straff is planning what Clubs thinks he is,” Ham said. “He could actually be withdrawing, cutting his losses and leaving Luthadel behind.”

“Either way,” Clubs said. “Not many can get out. Neither Straff nor Jastes are likely to allow large groups of people to flee the city. Right now, confusion and fear in the streets will serve their purposes far better than depopulation. We might be able to get a few riders on horseback out – especially if one of those riders is Vin. The rest of the people will have to take their chances with the koloss.”

Breeze felt his stomach turn. Clubs spoke so bluntly… so callously. But that was Clubs. He wasn’t even really a pessimist; he just said the things that he didn’t think others wanted to acknowledge.

Some of the skaa will survive to become slaves for Straff Venture, Breeze thought. But those who fight – and those who have led the city this last year – are doomed. That includes me.

It’s true. This time there really is no way out.

“Well?” Sazed asked, hands spread before him. “Are we in agreement that these four should go?”

The members of the group nodded.

“Let us discuss, then,” Sazed said, “and devise a plan for sending them away.”

“We could just make Elend think that the danger isn’t that great,” Dockson said. “If he believes that the city is in for a long siege, he might be willing to go with Vin on a mission somewhere. They wouldn’t realize what was happening back here until it was too late.”

“A good suggestion, Lord Dockson,” Sazed said. “I think, also, that we could work with Vin’s concept of the Well of Ascension.”

The discussion continued, and Breeze sat back, satisfied. Vin, Elend, and Spook will survive, he thought. I’ll have to convince Sazed to let Allrianne go with them. He glanced around the room, noticing a release of tension in the postures of the others. Dockson and Ham seemed at peace, and even Clubs was nodding quietly to himself, looking satisfied as they talked through suggestions.

The disaster was still coming. But, somehow, the possibility that some would escape – the youngest crewmembers, the ones still inexperienced enough to hope – made everything else a little easier to accept.

Vin stood quietly in the mists, looking up at the dark spires, columns, and towers of Kredik Shaw. In her head, two sounds thumped. The mist spirit and the larger, vaster sound.

It was growing more and more demanding.

She continued forward, ignoring the thumps as she approached Kredik Shaw. The Hill of a Thousand Spires, once home of the Lord Ruler. It had been abandoned for well over a year, but no vagrants had made their home here. It was too ominous. Too terrible. Too much a reminder of him.

The Lord Ruler had been a monster. Vin remembered well the night, over a year before, when she had come to this palace intending to kill him. To do the job that Kelsier had unwittingly trained her to do. She had walked through this very courtyard, had passed guards at the doors before her.

And she had let them live. Kelsier would have just fought his way in. But Vin had talked them into leaving, into joining the rebellion. That act had saved her life when one of those very men, Goradel, had led Elend to the palace dungeons to help rescue Vin.

In a way, the Final Empire had been overthrown because she hadn’t acted like Kelsier.

And yet, could she base future decisions upon a coincidence like that? Looking back, it seemed too perfectly allegorical. Like a neat little tale told to children, intended to teach a lesson.

Vin had never heard those tales as a child. And, she had survived when so many others had died. For every lesson like the one with Goradel, it seemed that there were a dozen that ended in tragedy.

And then there was Kelsier. He’d been right, in the end. His lesson was very different from the ones taught by the children’s tales. Kelsier had been bold, even excited, when he executed those who stood in his path. Ruthless. He had looked toward the greater good; he’d always had his eyes focused on the fall of the empire, and the eventual rise of a kingdom like Elend’s.

He had succeeded. Why couldn’t she kill as he had, knowing she was doing her duty, never feeling guilt? She’d always been frightened by the edge of danger Kelsier had displayed. Yet, wasn’t that very edge the thing that had let him succeed?

She passed into the tunnel-like corridors of the palace, feet and mistcloak tassels trailing marks in the dust. The mists, as always, remained behind. They didn’t enter buildings – or, if they did, they usually didn’t remain for long. With them, she left behind the mist spirit.

She had to make a decision. She didn’t like the decision, but she was accustomed to doing things she didn’t like. That was life. She hadn’t wanted to fight the Lord Ruler, but she had.

It soon became too dark even for Mistborn eyes, and she had to light a lantern. When she did, she was surprised to see that her footsteps weren’t the only ones in the dust. Apparently, someone else had been haunting the corridors. However, whoever it was, she didn’t encounter them as she walked through the hallways.

She entered the chamber a few moments later. She wasn’t sure what had drawn her to Kredik Shaw, let alone the hidden chamber at its center. It seemed, however, that she had been feeling a kinship with the Lord Ruler lately. Her walkings had brought her here, to a place she hadn’t visited since that night when she’d slain the only God she’d ever known.

He had spent a lot of time in this hidden chamber, a place he had apparently built to remind him of his homeland. The chamber had a domed roof that arced overhead. The walls were filled with silvery murals and the floor was filled with metallic inlays. She ignored these, walking forward toward the room’s central feature – a small stone building that had been built within the larger chamber.

It was here that Kelsier and his wife had been captured many years before, during Kelsier’s first attempt to rob the Lord Ruler. Mare had been murdered at the Pits. But Kelsier had survived.

It was here, in this same chamber, that Vin had first faced an Inquisitor, and had nearly been killed herself. It was also here that she had come months later in her first attempt to kill the Lord Ruler. She had been defeated that time, too.

She stepped into the small building-within-a-building. It had only one room. The floor had been torn up by Elend’s crews, searching for the atium. The walls were still hung, however, with the trappings the Lord Ruler had left behind. She raised her lantern, looking at them.

Rugs. Furs. A small wooden flute. The things of his people, the Terris people, from a thousand years before. Why had he built his new city of Luthadel here, to the south, when his homeland – and the Well of Ascension itself – had been to the north? Vin had never really understood that.

Perhaps it came down to decision. Rashek, the Lord Ruler, had been forced to make a decision, too. He could have continued as he was, the pastoral villager. He would probably have had a happy life with his people.

But he had decided to become something more. In doing so, he had committed terrible atrocities. Yet, could she blame him for the decision itself? He had become what he’d thought he needed to be.

Her decision seemed more mundane, but she knew that other things – the Well of Ascension, the protection of Luthadel – could not be considered until she was certain what she wanted and who she was. And yet, standing in that room where Rashek had spent much of his time, thinking about the Well, the demanding thumps in her head sounded louder than they ever had before.

She had to decide. Elend was the one she wanted to be with. He represented peace. Happiness. Zane, however, represented what she felt she had to become. For the good of everyone involved.

The Lord Ruler’s palace held no clues or answers for her. A few moments later, frustrated and baffled at why she had even come, she left it behind, walking back out into the mists.

Zane awoke to the sound of a tent spike being pounded in a specific rhythm. His reaction was immediate.

He burned steel and pewter. He always swallowed a new bit of each before sleeping. He knew the habit would probably kill him someday; metals were poisonous if allowed to linger.

Dying someday was better, in Zane’s opinion, than dying today.

He flipped out of his cot, tossing his blanket toward the opening tent flap. He could barely see in the darkness of night. Even as he jumped, he heard something ripping. The tent walls being slit.

“Kill them!” God screamed.

Zane thumped to the ground and grabbed a handful of coins from the bowl beside his bed. He heard cries of surprise as he spun, throwing coins in a spinning spray around him.

He Pushed. Tiny plunks of sound thumped around him as coins met canvas, then continued on.

And men began to scream.

Zane fell to a crouch, waiting silently as the tent collapsed around him. Someone was thrashing the cloth to his right. He shot a few coins, and heard a satisfying grunt of pain. In the stillness, canvas resting atop him like a blanket, he heard footsteps running away.

He sighed, relaxing, and used a dagger to slice away the top of his tent. He emerged to a misty night. He’d gone to sleep later today than he usually did; it was probably near midnight. Time to be up anyway.

He strode across the fallen top of his tent – moving over to the now cloaked form of his cot – and cut a hole so he could reach through and pluck out the vial of metal he’d stored in a pocket beneath it. He downed the metals, and tin brought near light to his surroundings. Four men lay dying or dead around his tent. They were soldiers, of course – Straff’s soldiers. The attack had come later than Zane had expected.

Straff trusts me more than I assumed. Zane stepped over the dead form of an assassin and cut his way into a storage chest, then pulled out his clothing. He changed quietly, then removed a small bag of coins from the chest. It must have been the attack on Cett’s keep, he thought. It finally convinced Straff that I was too dangerous to let live.

Zane found his man working quietly beside a tent a short distance away, ostensibly testing the strength of a tent cord. He watched every night, paid to pound on a tent spike should anyone approach Zane’s tent. Zane tossed the man a bag of coins, then moved off into the darkness, passing the canal waters with their supply barges on his way to Straff’s tent.

His father had some few limitations. Straff was fine at large-scale planning, but the details – the subtleties – often got away from him. He could organize an army and crush his enemies. He, however, liked to play with dangerous tools. Like the atium mines at the Pits of Hathsin. Like Zane.

Those tools often ended up burning him.

Zane walked up to the side of Straff’s tent, then ripped a hole in the canvas and strode in. Straff waited for him. Zane gave the man credit: Straff watched his death coming with defiance in his eyes. Zane stopped in the middle of the room, in front of Straff, who sat in his hard wooden chair.

“Kill him,” God commanded.

Lamps burned in the corners, illuminating the canvas. The cushions and blankets in the corner were rumpled; Straff had taken one last romp with his favorite mistresses before sending his assassins. The king displayed his characteristic air of strong defiance, but Zane saw more. He saw a face too slick with sweat, and he saw hands trembling, as if from a disease.

“I have atium for you,” Straff said. “Buried in a place only I know.”

Zane stood quietly, staring at his father.

“I will proclaim you openly,” Straff said. “Name you my heir. Tomorrow, if you wish.”

Zane didn’t respond. Straff continued to sweat.

“The city is yours,” Zane finally said, turning away.

He was rewarded with a startled gasp from behind.

Zane glanced back. He’d never seen such a look of shock on his father’s face. That alone was almost worth everything.

“Pull your men back, as you are planning,” Zane said, “but don’t return to the Northern Dominance. Wait for those koloss to invade the city, let them take down the defenses and kill the defenders. Then, you can sweep in and rescue Luthadel.”

“But, Elend’s Mistborn…”

“Will be gone,” Zane said. “She’s leaving with me, tonight. Farewell, Father.” He turned and left through the slit he’d made.

“Zane?” Straff called from inside the tent.

Zane paused again.

“Why?” Straff asked, looking out through the slit. “I sent assassins to kill you. Why are you letting me live?”

“Because you’re my father,” Zane said. He turned away, looking into the mists. “A man shouldn’t kill his father.”

With that, Zane bid a final farewell to the man who had created him. A man whom Zane – despite his insanity, despite the abuse he’d known over the years – loved.

In the dark mists he threw down a coin and shot out over the camp. Outside its confines, he landed and easily located the bend in the canal he used as a marker. From the hollow of a small tree there, he pulled a bundle of cloth. A mistcloak, the first gift Straff had given him, years before when Zane had first Snapped. To him, it was too precious to wear around, to soil and use.

He knew himself a fool. However, he could not help how he felt. One could not use emotional Allomancy on one’s self.

He unwrapped the mistcloak and withdrew the things it protected – several vials of metal and a pouch filled with beads. Atium.

He knelt there for a long moment. Then, he reached up to his chest, feeling the space just above his rib cages. Where his heart thumped.

There was a large bump there. There always had been. He didn’t think about it often; his mind seemed to get distracted when he did. It, however, was the real reason he never wore cloaks.

He didn’t like the way that cloaks rubbed against the small point of the spike that stuck out of his back just between the shoulder blades. The head was against his sternum, and couldn’t be seen beneath clothing.

“It is time to go,” God said.

Zane stood, leaving the mistcloak behind. He turned from his father’s camp, leaving behind that which he had known, instead seeking the woman who would save him.

47

A PART OF VIN WASN’T EVEN bothered by how many people she had killed. That very indifference, however, terrified her.

She sat on her balcony a short time after her visit to the palace, the city of Luthadel lost in darkness before her. She sat in the mists – but knew better, now, than to think she’d find solace in their swirling patterns. Nothing was that simple anymore.

The mist spirit watched her, as always. It was too distant to see, but she could feel it. And, even stronger than the mist spirit, she could feel something else. That powerful thumping, growing louder and louder. It had once seemed distant, but no longer.

The Well of Ascension.

That was what it had to be. She could feel its power returning, flowing back into the world, demanding to be taken up and used. She kept finding herself glancing north, toward Terris, expecting to see something on the horizon. A burst of light, a blazing fire, a tempest of winds. Something. But there was just mist.

It seemed that she couldn’t succeed at anything, lately. Love, protection, duty. I’ve let myself get stretched too thin, she thought.

There were so many things that demanded her attention, and she’d tried to give heed to them all. As a result, she had accomplished nothing. Her research about the Deepness and the Hero of Ages lay untouched for days, still arranged in piles scattered across her floor. She knew next to nothing about the mist spirit – only that it watched her, and that the logbook author had thought it dangerous. She hadn’t dealt with the spy in her crew; she didn’t know if Zane’s claims regarding Demoux were true.

And Cett still lived. She couldn’t even perform a proper massacre without stumbling halfway through. It was Kelsier’s fault. He had trained her to take his place, but could anyone ever really do that?

Why do we always have to be someone else’s knives? Zane’s voice whispered in her head.

His words had seemed to make sense sometimes, but they had a flaw. Elend. Vin wasn’t his knife – not really. He didn’t want her to assassinate or kill. But, his ideals had left him without a throne, and had left his city surrounded by enemies. If she really loved Elend – if she really loved the people of Luthadel – wouldn’t she have done more?

The pulsings thumped against her, like the beats of a drum the size of the sun. She burned bronze almost constantly now, listening to the rhythm, letting it pull her away…

“Mistress?” OreSeur asked from behind. “What are you thinking about?”

“The end,” Vin said quietly, staring outward.

Silence.

“The end of what, Mistress?”

“I don’t know.”

OreSeur padded over to the balcony, walking into the mists and sitting down beside her. She was getting to know him well enough that she could see concern in his canine eyes.

She sighed, shaking her head. “I just have decisions to make. And, no matter which choice I make, it will mean an end.”

OreSeur sat for a moment, head cocked. “Mistress,” he finally said, “that seems excessively dramatic to me.”

Vin shrugged. “No advice for me, then?”

“Just make the decision,” OreSeur said.

Vin sat for a moment, then smiled. “Sazed would have said something wise and comforting.”

OreSeur frowned. “I fail to see why he should be part of this conversation, Mistress.”

“He was my steward,” Vin said. “Before he left, and before Kelsier switched your Contract to me.”

“Ah,” OreSeur said. “Well, I never did much like Terrismen, Mistress. Their self-important sense of subservience is very difficult to imitate – not to mention the fact that their muscles are far too stringy to taste good.”

Vin raised an eyebrow. “You’ve imitated Terrismen? I didn’t think there would be much cause for that – they weren’t a very influential people during the days of the Lord Ruler.”

“Ah,” OreSeur said. “But they were always around influential people.”

Vin nodded, standing. She walked back into her empty room and lit a lamp, extinguishing her tin. Mist carpeted the room, flowing over her stacks of paper, her feet throwing up puffs as she walked toward the bedroom.

She paused. That was a bit strange. Mist rarely remained long when it came indoors. Elend said it had to do with heat and enclosed spaces. Vin had always ascribed to it something more mystical. She frowned, watching it.

Even without tin, she heard the creak.

Vin spun. Zane stood on the balcony, his figure a black silhouette in the mists. He stepped forward, the mist following around him, as it did around anyone burning metals. And yet… it also seemed to be pushing away from him slightly.

OreSeur growled quietly.

“It’s time,” Zane said.

“Time for what?” Vin asked, setting the lamp down.

“To go,” Zane said. “To leave these men and their armies. To leave the squabbling. To be free.”

Free.

“I… don’t know, Zane,” Vin said, looking away.

She heard him step forward. “What do you owe him, Vin? He doesn’t know you. He fears you. The truth is, he was never worthy of you.”

“No,” Vin said, shaking her head. “That’s not it at all, Zane. You don’t understand. I was never worthy of him. Elend deserves someone better. He deserves… someone who shares his ideals. Someone who thinks he was right to give up his throne. Someone who sees more honor – and less foolishness – in that.”

“Either way,” Zane said, stopping a short distance from her. “He cannot understand you. Us.”

Vin didn’t reply.

“Where would you go, Vin?” Zane asked. “If you weren’t bound to this place, bound to him? If you were free, and could do whatever you wished, where would you go?”

The thumpings seemed louder. She glanced toward OreSeur, who sat quietly by the side wall, mostly in the dark. Why feel guilty? What did she have to prove to him?

She turned back to Zane. “North,” she said. “To Terris.”

“We can go there. Wherever you want. Location is irrelevant to me, as long as it is not this place.”

“I can’t abandon them,” Vin said.

“Even if by doing so, you steal away Straff’s only Mistborn?” Zane asked. “The trade is a good one. My father will know that I have disappeared, but he will not realize that you aren’t still in Luthadel. He’ll be even more afraid to attack. By giving yourself freedom, you’ll also be leaving your allies with a precious gift.”

Zane took her hand, forcing her to look at him. He did look like Elend – like a hard version of Elend. Zane had been broken by life, just as she had been, but both had put themselves back together. Had the re-forming made them stronger, or more fragile?

“Come,” Zane whispered. “You can save me, Vin.”

A war is coming to the city, Vin thought with a chill. If I stay, I will have to kill again.

And slowly, she let him draw her away from her desk, toward the mists and the comforting darkness beyond. She reached up, pulling out a metal vial for the journey, and the motion caused Zane to spin suspiciously.

He has good instincts, Vin thought. Instincts like my own. Instincts that won’t let him trust, but that keep him alive.

He relaxed as he saw what she was doing, and smiled and turned away again. Vin followed him, walking again, but she felt a sudden stab of fear. This is it, she thought. After this, everything changes. The time for decisions has passed.

And I made the wrong choice.

Elend wouldn’t have jumped like that when I took out the vial.

She froze. Zane tugged on her wrist, but she didn’t move. He turned toward her in the mists, frowning as he stood at the edge of her balcony.

“I’m sorry,” Vin whispered, slipping her hand free. “I can’t go with you.”

“What?” Zane asked. “Why not?”

Vin shook her head, turning and walking back into the room.

“Tell me what it is!” Zane said, tone rising. “What is it about him that draws you? He isn’t a great leader. He’s not a warrior. He’s no Allomancer or general. What is it about him?”

The answer came to her simply and easily. Make your decisions – I’ll support you in them. “He trusts me,” she whispered.

“What?” Zane asked incredulously.

“When I attacked Cett,” Vin said, “the others thought I was acting irrationally – and they were right. But Elend told them I had a good reason, even if he didn’t know what it was.”

“So he’s a fool,” Zane said.

“When we spoke later,” Vin continued, not looking at Zane, “I was cold to him. I think he knew that I was trying to decide whether to stay with him or not. And… he told me that he trusted my judgment. He’d support me if I chose to leave him.”

“So he’s also unappreciative,” Zane said.

Vin shook her head. “No. He just loves me.”

“I love you.”

Vin paused, looking at Zane. He looked angry. Desperate, even. “I believe you. I still can’t go with you.”

“But why?”

“Because it would require leaving Elend,” she said. “Even if I can’t share his ideals, I can respect them. Even if I don’t deserve him, I can be near him. I’m staying, Zane.”

Zane stood quietly for a moment, mist falling around his shoulders. “I’ve failed, then.”

Vin turned away from him. “No. It isn’t that you’ve failed. You aren’t flawed simply because I–”

He slammed into her, throwing her toward the mist-covered floor. Vin turned her head, shocked, as she crashed into the wooden floor, the breath going out of her.

Zane loomed above her, his face dark. “You were supposed to save me,” he hissed.

Vin flared every metal she had in a sudden jolt. She shoved Zane backward and Pulled herself against the door hinges. She flew backward and hit the door hard, the wood cracking slightly, but she was too tense – too shocked – to feel anything but the thud.

Zane rose quietly, standing tall, dark. Vin rolled forward into a crouch. Zane was attacking her. Attacking her for real.

But… he…

“OreSeur!” Vin said, ignoring her mind’s objections, whipping out her daggers. “Run away!”

The code given, she charged, trying to distract Zane’s attention from the wolfhound. Zane sidestepped her attacks with a casual grace. Vin whipped a dagger toward his neck. It barely missed as Zane tipped his head backward. She struck at his side, at his arm, at his chest. Each strike missed.

She’d known he’d burn atium. She’d expected that. She skidded to a stop, looking at him. He hadn’t even bothered to pull out his own weapons. He stood before her, face dark, mist a growing lake at his feet. “Why didn’t you listen to me, Vin?” he asked. “Why force me to keep being Straff’s tool? We both know where that must lead.”

Vin ignored him. Gritting her teeth, she launched into an attack. Zane backhanded her indifferently, and she Pushed slightly against the deskmounts behind him – tossing herself backward, as if thrown by the force of his blow. She slammed into the wall, then slumped to the ground.

Directly beside the startled OreSeur.

He hadn’t opened his shoulder to give her the atium. Hadn’t he understood the code? “The atium I gave you,” Vin hissed. “I need it. Now.”

“Kandra,” Zane said. “Come to me.”

OreSeur met her eyes, and she saw something within them. Shame. He glanced away, then padded across the floor, mist up to his knees, as he joined Zane in the center of the room.

“No…” Vin whispered. “OreSeur–”

“You will no longer obey her commands, TenSoon,” Zane said.

OreSeur bowed his head.

“The Contract, OreSeur!” Vin said, climbing to her knees. “You must obey my orders!”

“My servant, Vin,” Zane said. “My Contract. My orders.”

My servant…

And suddenly, it clicked. She’d suspected everyone – Dockson, Breeze, even Elend – but she’d never connected the spy to the one person that made the most sense. There had been a kandra in the palace all along. And he had been at her side.

“I’m sorry, Mistress,” OreSeur whispered.

“How long?” Vin asked, bowing her head.

“Since you gave my predecessor – the real OreSeur – the dog’s body,” the kandra said. “I killed him that day and took his place, wearing the body of a dog. You never saw him as a wolfhound.”

What easier way to mask the transformation? Vin thought. “But, the bones we discovered in the palace,” she said. “You were with me on the wall when they appeared. They–”

She’d taken his word on how fresh those bones had been; she’d taken his word on when they had been produced. She’d assumed all along that the switch must have happened that day, when she was with Elend on the city wall – but she’d done so primarily because of what OreSeur had said.

Idiot! she thought. OreSeur – or, TenSoon, as Zane had called him – had led her to suspect everyone but himself. What was wrong with her? She was usually so good at sniffing out traitors, at noticing insincerity. How had she missed spotting her own kandra?

Zane walked forward. Vin waited, on her knees. Weak, she told herself. Look weak. Make him leave you alone. Try to–

“Soothing me will do no good,” Zane said quietly, grabbing her by the front of her shirt, picking her up, then throwing her back down. Mist sprayed beneath her, puffing up in a splash as she slammed to the floor. Vin stifled her cry of pain.

I have to stay quiet. If guards come, he’ll kill them. If Elend comes…

She had to stay quiet, quiet even as Zane kicked her in her wounded side. She grunted, eyes watering.

“You could have saved me,” Zane said, peering down at her. “I was willing to go with you. Now, what is left? Nothing. Nothing, but Straff’s orders.” He punctuated that sentence with a kick.

Stay small, she told herself through the pain. He’ll leave you alone eventually…

But it had been years since she’d had to bow before anyone. Her days of cringing before Camon and Reen were almost misty shadows, forgotten before the light offered by Elend and Kelsier. As Zane kicked again, Vin found herself growing angry.

He brought his foot back, angling it toward her face, and Vin moved. As his foot arced down, she threw herself backward, Pushing against the window latches to scoot herself through the mists. She flared pewter, throwing herself up to her feet, trailing mist from the floor. It was up past her knees now.

She glared at Zane, who looked back with a dark expression. Vin ducked forward, but Zane moved faster – moved first – stepping between her and the balcony. Not that getting to it would do her any good; with atium, he could chase her down easily.

It was like before, when he’d attacked her with atium. Only this time it was worse. Before, she’d been able to believe – if just a little – that they were still sparring. Still not enemies, even if they weren’t friends. She hadn’t really believed that he wanted to kill her.

She had no such illusions this time. Zane’s eyes were dark, his expression flat – just like that night a few days before, when slaughtering Cett’s men.

Vin was going to die.

She hadn’t felt such fear in a long time. But now she saw it, felt it, smelled it on herself as she shied away from the approaching Zane. She felt what it was like to face a Mistborn – what it must have been like for those soldiers she’d killed. There was no fighting. There was no chance.

No, she told herself forcefully, holding her side. Elend didn’t back down against Straff. He doesn’t have Allomancy, but he marched into the center of the koloss camp.

I can beat this.

With a cry, Vin dashed toward TenSoon. The dog backed away in shock, but he needn’t have worried. Zane was there again. He slammed a shoulder into Vin, then whipped his dagger around and slashed a wound across her cheek as she fell backward. The cut was precise. Perfect. Matching the wound on her other cheek, one given to her during her first fight with a Mistborn, nearly two years before.

Vin gritted her teeth, burning iron as she fell. She Pulled on a pouch on her desk, whipping the coins into her hand. She hit the ground on her side, other hand down, and threw herself back to her feet. She dumped a shower of coins from the pouch into her hand, then raised them at Zane.

Blood dripped from her chin. She threw the coins out. Zane moved to Push them away.

Vin smiled, then burned duralumin as she Pushed. The coins snapped forward, and the wind of their sudden passing parted the mist on the ground, revealing the floor beneath.

The room shook.

And in an eyeblink, Vin found herself slammed back against the wall. She gasped in surprise, breath knocked from her lungs, her vision swimming. She looked up, disoriented, surprised to find herself on the ground again.

“Duralumin,” Zane said, still standing with a hand up before him. “TenSoon told me about it. We deduced you must have a new metal from the way you can sense me when my copper is on. After that, a little searching, and he found that note from your metallurgist, which handily had the instructions for making duralumin.”

Her addled mind struggled to connect ideas. Zane had duralumin. He’d used the metal, and had Pushed against one of the coins she’d shot at him. He must have Pushed behind himself as well, to keep from being forced backward as his weight met hers.

And her own duralumin-enhanced Push had slammed her against the wall. She had trouble thinking. Zane walked forward. She looked up, dazed, then scrambled away on hands and knees, crawling in the mists. It was at face level, and her nostrils tickled as she inhaled the cool, quiet chaos.

Atium. She needed atium. But, the bead was in TenSoon’s shoulder, she couldn’t Pull it to herself. The reason he carried it there was that the flesh protected it from being affected by Allomancers. Just like the spikes piercing an Inquisitor’s body, just like her own earring. Metal inside – or even piercing – a person’s body could not be Pulled or Pushed except with the most extreme of Allomantic forces.

But she’d done it once. When fighting the Lord Ruler. It hadn’t been her own power, or even duralumin, that had let her accomplish it. It had been something else. The mists.

She’d drawn upon them.

Something hit her on her back, pushing her down. She rolled over, kicking upward, but her foot missed Zane’s face by a few atium-aided inches. Zane slapped her foot aside, then reached down, slamming her against the floor by her shoulders.

Mists churned around him as he looked down at her. Through her terror, she reached out for the mists, as she had over a year before when fighting the Lord Ruler. That day, they had fueled her Allomancy, giving her a strength that she shouldn’t have had. She reached out for them, begging for their help.

And nothing happened.

Please…

Zane slammed her down again. The mists continued to ignore her pleas.

She twisted, Pulling against the window frame to get leverage, and pushed Zane to the side. They rolled, Vin coming around on top.

Suddenly, both of them lurched off the floor, bursting out of the mists and flying toward the ceiling, thrown upward as Zane Pushed against coins on the floor. They slammed against the ceiling, Zane’s body pushing against hers, pinning her to the wooden planks. He was on top again – or, rather, he was on the bottom, but that was now the point of leverage.

Vin gasped. He was so strong. Stronger than she. His fingers bit into the flesh of her arms despite her pewter, and her side ached from her earlier wounds. She was in no condition to fight – not against another Mistborn.

Especially not one with atium.

Zane continued to Push them against the ceiling. Vin’s hair fell toward him, and mists churned the floor below, like a whirlpool vortex that was slowly rising.

Zane released his Push, and they fell. Yet, he was still in control. He spun her, throwing her down below him as they entered the mists again. They hit the ground, the blow knocking the wind from Vin’s lungs yet again. Zane loomed above her, speaking through gritted teeth.

“All that effort, wasted,” he hissed. “Hiding an Allomancer in Cett’s hirelings so that you would suspect him of attacking you at the Assembly. Forcing you to fight in front of Elend so that he’d be intimidated by you. Pushing you to explore your powers and kill so that you’d realize just how powerful you truly are. All wasted!”

He leaned down. “You. Were. Supposed. To. Save me!” he said, his face just inches from hers, breathing heavily. He pinned one of her struggling arms to the floor with his knee, and then, in a strangely surreal moment, he kissed her.

And at the same time, he rammed his dagger into the side of one of her breasts. Vin tried to cry out, but his mouth held hers as the dagger cut her flesh.

“Be careful, Master!” OreSeur – TenSoon – suddenly yelled. “She knows much about kandra!”

Zane looked up, his hand stilled. The voice, the pain, brought lucidity to Vin. She flared tin, using the pain to shock herself awake, clearing her mind.

“What?” Zane asked, looking down toward the kandra.

“She knows, Master,” TenSoon said. “She knows our secret. The reason why we served the Lord Ruler. The reason why we serve the Contract. She knows why we fear Allomancers so much.”

“Be silent,” Zane commanded. “And speak no more.”

TenSoon fell silent.

Our secret… Vin thought, glancing over at the wolfhound, sensing the anxiety in his canine expression. He’s trying to tell me something. Trying to help me.

Secret. The secret of the kandra. The last time she’d tried Soothing him, he’d howled with pain. Yet, she saw permission in his expression. It was enough.

She slammed TenSoon with a Soothing. He cried out, howling, but she Pushed harder. Nothing happened. Gritting her teeth, she burned duralumin.

Something broke. She was in two places at once. She could feel TenSoon standing by the wall, and she could feel her own body in Zane’s grip. TenSoon was hers, totally and completely. Somehow, not quite knowing how, she ordered him forward, controlling his body.

The massive wolfhound’s body slammed into Zane, throwing him off Vin. The dagger flipped to the ground, and Vin stumbled to her knees, grabbing her chest, feeling warm blood there. Zane rolled, obviously shocked, but he came to his feet and kicked TenSoon.

Bones broke. The wolfhound tumbled across the floor – right toward Vin. She snatched the dagger off the ground as he rolled to her feet, then plunged it into his shoulder, cutting the shoulder, her fingers feeling in the muscle and sinew. She came up with bloodied hands and a single bead of atium. She swallowed it with a gulp, spinning toward Zane.

“Now let’s see how you fare,” she hissed, burning atium. Dozens of atium shadows burst from Zane, showing her possible actions he could take – all of them ambiguous. She would be giving off the same confusing mess to his eyes. They were even.

Zane turned, looking into her eyes, and his atium shadows disappeared.

Impossible! she thought. TenSoon groaned at her feet as she realized that her atium reserve was gone. Burned away. But the bead had been so large…

“Did you think I’d give you the very weapon you needed to fight me?” Zane asked quietly. “Did you think I’d really give up atium?”

“But–”

“A lump of lead,” Zane said, walking forward. “Plated with a thin layer of atium around it. Oh, Vin. You really need to be more careful whom you trust.”

Vin stumbled backward, feeling her confidence wilt. Make him talk! she thought. Try to get his atium to run out.

“My brother said that I shouldn’t trust anyone…” she mumbled. “He said… anyone would betray me.”

“He was a wise man,” Zane said quietly, standing chest-deep in mists.

“He was a paranoid fool,” Vin said. “He kept me alive, but he left me broken.”

“Then he did you a favor.”

Vin glanced toward TenSoon’s mangled, bleeding form. He was in pain; she could see it in his eyes. In the distance she could hear… thumping. She’d turned her bronze back on. She looked up slowly. Zane was walking toward her. Confident.

“You’ve been playing with me,” she said. “You drove a wedge between me and Elend. You made me think he feared me, made me think he was using me.”

“He was,” Zane said.

“Yes,” Vin said. “But it doesn’t matter – not the way you made it seem. Elend uses me. Kelsier used me. We use each other, for love, for support, for trust.”

“Trust will kill you,” he said.

“Then it is better to die.”

“I trusted you,” he said, stopping before her. “And you betrayed me.”

“No,” Vin said, raising her dagger. “I’m going to save you. Just like you want.” She snapped forward and struck, but her hope – that he’d run out of atium – was in vain. He sidestepped indifferently; he let her dagger come within an inch of striking, but he was never really in danger.

Vin spun to attack, but her blade cut only air, skimming along the top of the rising mists.

Zane moved before her next attack came, dodging even before she knew what she was going to do. Her dagger stabbed the place where he had been standing.

He’s too fast, she thought, side burning, mind thumping. Or was that the Well of Ascension thumping…

Zane stopped just in front of her.

I can’t hit him, she thought with frustration. Not when he knows where I’ll strike before I do!

Vin paused.

Before I do…

Zane stepped away to a place near the center of the room, then kicked her fallen dagger into the air and caught it. He turned back toward her, mist trailing from the weapon in his hand, jaw set and eyes dark.

He knows where I’ll strike before I do.

Vin raised her dagger, blood trickling down face and side, thunderous drumbeats booming in her mind. The mist was nearly up to her chin.

She cleared her mind. She didn’t plan an attack. She didn’t react to Zane as he ran toward her, dagger raised. She loosened her muscles and closed her eyes, listening to his footsteps. She felt the mist rise around her, churned by Zane’s advent.

She snapped her eyes open. He had the dagger raised; it glittered as it swung. Vin prepared to attack, but didn’t think about the strike; she simply let her body react.

And she watched Zane very, very carefully.

He flinched just slightly to the left, open hand moving upward, as if to grab something.

There! Vin thought, immediately wrenching herself to the side, forcing her instinctive attack out of its natural trajectory. She twisted her arm – and dagger – midswing. She had been about to attack left, as Zane’s atium had anticipated.

But, by reacting, Zane had shown her what she was going to do. Let her see the future. And if she could see it, she could change it.

They met. Zane’s weapon took her in the shoulder. But Vin’s knife took him in the neck. His left hand closed on empty air, snatching at a shadow that should have told him where her arm would be.

Zane tried to gasp, but her knife had pierced his windpipe. Air sucked through blood around the blade, and Zane stumbled back, eyes wide with shock. He met her eyes, then collapsed into the mists, his body thumping against the wooden floor.

Zane looked up through the mists, looked up at her. I’m dying, he thought.

Her atium shadow had split at the last moment. Two shadows, two possibilities. He’d counteracted the wrong one. She’d tricked him, defeated him somehow. And now he was dying.

Finally.

“You know why I thought you’d save me?” he tried to whisper to her, though he somehow knew that his lips weren’t properly forming the words. “The voice. You were the first person I ever met that it didn’t tell me to kill. The only person.”

“Of course I didn’t tell you to kill her,” God said.

Zane felt his life seeping away.

“You know the really funny thing, Zane?” God asked. “The most amusing part of this all? You’re not insane.

“You never were.”

Vin watched quietly as Zane sputtered, blood coming from his lips. She watched cautiously; a knife to the throat should have been enough to kill even a Mistborn, but sometimes pewter could let one do awesome things.

Zane died. She checked his pulse, then retrieved her dagger. After that, she stood for a moment, feeling… numb, in both mind and body. She raised a hand to her wounded shoulder – and in doing so, she brushed her wounded breast. She was bleeding too much, and her mind was growing fuzzy again.

I killed him.

She flared pewter, forcing herself to keep moving. She stumbled over to TenSoon, kneeling beside him.

“Mistress,” he said. “I’m sorry…”

“I know,” she said, staring at the terrible wound she’d made. His legs no longer worked, and his body lay in an unnatural twist. “How can I help?”

“Help?” TenSoon said. “Mistress, I nearly got you killed!”

“I know,” she said again. “How can I make the pain go away? Do you need another body?”

TenSoon was quiet for a moment. “Yes.”

“Take Zane’s,” Vin said. “For the moment, at least.”

“He is dead?” TenSoon asked with surprise.

He couldn’t see, she realized. His neck is broken.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“How, Mistress?” TenSoon asked. “He ran out of atium?”

“No,” Vin said.

“Then, how?”

“Atium has a weakness,” she said. “It lets you see the future.”

“That… doesn’t sound like a weakness, Mistress.”

Vin sighed, wobbling slightly. Focus! she thought. “When you burn atium, you see a few moments into the future – and you can change what will happen in that future. You can grab an arrow that should have kept flying. You can dodge a blow that should have killed you. And you can move to block an attack before it even happens.”

TenSoon was quiet, obviously confused.

“He showed me what I was going to do,” Vin said. “I couldn’t change the future, but Zane could. By reacting to my attack before I even knew what I was going to do, he inadvertently showed me the future. I reacted against him, and he tried to block a blow that never came. That let me kill him.”

“Mistress…” TenSoon whispered. “That is brilliant.”

“I’m sure I’m not the first to think of it,” Vin said wearily. “But it isn’t the sort of secret that you share. Anyway, take his body.”

“I… would rather not wear the bones of that creature,” TenSoon said. “You don’t know how broken he was, Mistress.”

Vin nodded tiredly. “I could just find you another dog body, if you want.”

“That won’t be necessary, Mistress,” TenSoon said quietly. “I still have the bones of the other wolfhound you gave me, and most of them are still good. If I replace a few of them with the good bones from this body, I should be able to form a complete skeleton to use.”

“Do it, then. We’re going to need to plan what to do next.”

TenSoon was quiet for a moment. Finally, he spoke. “Mistress, my Contract is void, now that my master is dead. I… need to return to my people for reassignment.”

“Ah,” Vin said, feeling a wrench of sadness. “Of course.”

“I do not want to go,” TenSoon said. “But, I must at least report to my people. Please, forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Vin said. “And thank you for that timely hint at the end.”

TenSoon lay quietly. She could see guilt in his canine eyes. He shouldn’t have helped me against his current master.

“Mistress,” TenSoon said. “You know our secret now. Mistborn can control a kandra’s body with Allomancy. I don’t know what you will do with it – but realize that I have entrusted you with a secret that my people have kept sacred for a thousand years. The way that Allomancers could take control of our bodies and make slaves of us.”

“I… don’t even understand what happened.”

“Perhaps it is better that way,” TenSoon said. “Please, leave me. I have the other dog’s bones in the closet. When you return, I will be gone.”

Vin rose, nodding. She left, then, pushing through the mists and seeking the hallway outside. Her wounds needed tending. She knew that she should go to Sazed, but somehow she couldn’t force herself in that direction. She walked faster, feet taking her down the hallway, until she was running.

Everything was collapsing around her. She couldn’t manage it all, couldn’t keep things straight. But she did know what she wanted.

And so she ran to him.

48

ELEND YAWNED, LOOKING OVER THE letter he’d penned to Jastes. Perhaps he could persuade his former friend to see reason.

If he couldn’t… well, a duplicate of the wooden coin Jastes had been using to “pay” the koloss sat on Elend’s desk. It was a perfect copy, whittled by Clubs himself. Elend was pretty certain that he had access to more wood than Jastes did. If he could help Penrod stall for a few more weeks, they might be able to make enough “money” to bribe the koloss away.

He set down his pen, rubbing his eyes. It was late. Time to–

His door slammed open. Elend spun, and caught sight of a flustered Vin dashing across the room and into his arms. She was crying.

And she was bloody.

“Vin!” he said. “What happened?”

“I killed him,” she said, head buried in Elend’s chest.

“Who?”

“Your brother,” she said. “Zane. Straff’s Mistborn. I killed him.”

“Wait. What? My brother?”

Vin nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Forget about that, Vin!” Elend said, gently prying her back and pushing her into his chair. She had a gash on her cheek, and her shirt was slick with blood. “Lord Ruler! I’m going to get Sazed right now.”

“Don’t leave me,” she said, holding his arm.

Elend paused. Something had changed. She seemed to need him again. “Come with me, then. We’ll both go see him.”

Vin nodded, standing. She teetered just a bit, and Elend felt a spike of fear, but the determined look in her eyes wasn’t something he wanted to challenge. He put his arm around her, letting her lean on him as they walked to Sazed’s quarters. Elend paused to knock, but Vin simply pushed her way into the dark room, then wobbled and sat down on the floor just inside.

“I’ll… sit here,” she said.

Elend paused worriedly by her side, then raised his lamp and called toward the bedchamber. “Sazed!”

The Terrisman appeared a moment later, looking exhausted and wearing a white sleeping robe. He noticed Vin, blinked a few times, then disappeared into his chambers. He returned a moment later with a metalmind bracer strapped to his forearm and a bag of medical equipment.

“Now, Lady Vin,” Sazed said, setting the bag down. “What would Master Kelsier think, seeing you in this condition? You ruin more clothing in this manner, I think…”

“This isn’t a time for levity, Sazed,” Elend said.

“I apologize, Your Majesty,” Sazed said, carefully cutting the clothing away from Vin’s shoulder. “However, if she is still conscious, then she isn’t in serious danger.” He peered closer at the wound, absently lifting clean cloths from his bag.

“You see?” Sazed asked. “This gash is deep, but the blade was deflected by the bone, and missed hitting any major vessels. Hold this here.” He pressed a cloth to the wound, and Elend put his hand on it. Vin sat with her eyes closed, resting back against the wall, blood dripping slowly from her chin. She seemed more exhausted than in pain.

Sazed took his knife and cut away the front of Vin’s shirt, exposing her wounded chest.

Elend paused. “Perhaps I should…”

“Stay,” Vin said. It wasn’t a plea, but a command. She raised her head, opening her eyes as Sazed tisked quietly at the wound, then got out a numbing agent and some needle and thread.

“Elend,” she said, “I need to tell you something.”

He paused. “All right.”

“I’ve realized something about Kelsier,” she said quietly. “I always focus on the wrong things, when it comes to him. It’s hard to forget the hours he spent training me to be an Allomancer. Yet, it wasn’t his ability to fight that made him great – it wasn’t his harshness or his brutality, or even his strength or his instincts.”

Elend frowned.

“Do you know what it was?” she asked.

He shook his head, still pressing the cloth against her shoulder.

“It was his ability to trust,” she said. “It was the way that he made good people into better people, the way that he inspired them. His crew worked because he had confidence in them – because he respected them. And, in return, they respected each other. Men like Breeze and Clubs became heroes because Kelsier had faith in them.”

She looked up at him, blinking tired eyes. “And you are far better at that than Kelsier ever was, Elend. He had to work at it. You do it instinctively, treating even weasels like Philen as if they were good and honorable men. It’s not naivete, as some think. It’s what Kelsier had, only greater. He could have learned from you.”

“You give me too much credit,” he said.

She shook a tired head. Then she turned to Sazed.

“Sazed?” she asked.

“Yes, child?”

“Do you know any wedding ceremonies?”

Elend nearly dropped the cloth in shock.

“I know several,” Sazed said as he tended the wound. “Some two hundred, actually.”

“Which one is the shortest?” Vin asked.

Sazed pulled a stitch tight. “The people of Larsta only required a profession of love before a local priest. Simplicity was a tenet of their belief structure – a reaction, perhaps, to the traditions of the land they were banished from, which was known for its complex system of bureaucratic rules. It is a good religion, one that focused on simple beauty found in nature.”

Vin looked at Elend. Her face was bloody, her hair a mess.

“Now, see,” he said. “Vin, don’t you think that maybe this should wait until, you know–”

“Elend?” she interrupted. “I love you.”

He froze.

“Do you love me?” she asked.

This is insane. “Yes,” he said quietly.

Vin turned to Sazed, who was still working. “Well?”

Sazed looked up, fingers bloodied. “This is a very strange time for such an event, I think.”

Elend nodded in agreement.

“It’s just a little bit of blood,” Vin said tiredly. “I’m really all right, now that I’ve sat down.”

“Yes,” Sazed said, “but you seem somewhat distraught, Lady Vin. This isn’t a decision to be made lightly, under the influence of strong emotions.”

Vin smiled. “The decision to get married shouldn’t be made because of strong emotions?”

Sazed floundered. “That isn’t exactly what I meant. I’m simply not certain that you are fully in control of your faculties, Lady Vin.”

Vin shook her head. “I’m more in control than I have been for months. It’s time for me to stop hesitating, Sazed – time to stop worrying, time to accept my place in this crew. I know what I want, now. I love Elend. I don’t know what kind of time we’ll have together, but I want some, at least.”

Sazed sat for a moment, then returned to his sewing. “And you, Lord Elend? What are your thoughts?”

What were his thoughts? He remembered just the day before, when Vin had spoken of leaving, and the wrenching he had felt. He thought of how much he depended on her wisdom, and her bluntness, and her simple – but not simplistic – devotion to him. Yes, he did love her.

The world had gone chaotic recently. He had made mistakes. Yet, despite everything that had happened, and despite his frustrations, he still felt strongly that he wanted to be with Vin. It wasn’t the idyllic infatuation he’d felt a year and a half ago, at the parties. But it felt more solid.

“Yes, Sazed,” he said. “I do want to marry her. I have wanted it for some time. I… I don’t know what’s going to happen to the city, or my kingdom, but I want to be with Vin when it comes.”

Sazed continued to work. “Very well, then,” he finally said. “If it is my witness you require, then you have it.”

Elend knelt, still pressing the cloth on Vin’s shoulder, feeling a little bit stunned. “That’s it then?”

Sazed nodded. “It is as valid as any witness the obligators could give you, I think. Be warned, the Larsta love oath is binding. They knew no form of divorce in their culture. Do you accept my witness of this event?”

Vin nodded. Elend felt himself doing the same.

“Then you are married,” Sazed said, tying off his thread, then draping a cloth across Vin’s chest. “Hold this for a bit, Lady Vin, and stanch the rest of the bleeding.” Then he moved on to her cheek.

“I feel like there should be a ceremony or something,” Elend said.

“I could give one, if you wish,” Sazed said, “but I do not think you need one. I have known you both for some time, and am willing to give my blessing to this union. I simply offer counsel. Those who take lightly promises they make to those they love are people who find little lasting satisfaction in life. This is not an easy time in which to live. That does not mean that it has to be a difficult time to love, but it does mean that you will find unusual stresses upon your lives and your relationship.

“Do not forget the love oath you made to each other this evening. It will give you much strength in the days to come, I think.” With that, he pulled the last stitch tight on Vin’s face, then finally moved to the shoulder. The bleeding there had mostly stopped, and Sazed studied the wound for a moment before beginning work on it.

Vin looked up at Elend, smiling, looking a bit drowsy. He stood and walked over to the room’s washbasin, and returned with a damp cloth to wipe off her face and cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly as Sazed moved around and took the place Elend had been kneeling in.

“Sorry?” Elend said. “About my father’s Mistborn?”

Vin shook her head. “No. For taking so long.”

Elend smiled. “You’re worth the wait. Besides, I think I had to figure a few things out as well.”

“Like how to be a king?”

“And how to stop being one.”

Vin shook her head. “You never stopped being one, Elend. They can take your crown, but they can’t take your honor.”

Elend smiled. “Thank you. However, I don’t know how much good I’ve done the city. By even being here, I divided the people, and now Straff will end up in control.”

“I’ll kill Straff if he puts one foot in this city.”

Elend gritted his teeth. Back to the same problems again. They could only hold Vin’s knife against his neck for so long. He’d figure out a way to wiggle around, and there was always Jastes and those koloss…

“Your Majesty.” Sazed said as he worked, “perhaps I can offer a solution.”

Elend glanced down at the Terrisman, raising an eyebrow.

“The Well of Ascension,” Sazed said.

Vin opened her eyes immediately.

“Tindwyl and I have been researching the Hero of Ages,” Sazed continued. “We are convinced that Rashek never did what the Hero was supposed to. In fact, we aren’t even convinced that this Alendi of a thousand years ago was the Hero. There are too many discrepancies, too many problems and contradictions. In addition, the mists – the Deepness – are still here. And now they are killing people.”

Elend frowned. “What are you saying?”

Sazed pulled a stitch tight. “Something still needs to be done, Your Majesty. Something important. Looking at it from a smaller perspective, it might seem that the events at Luthadel and the rise of the Well of Ascension are unrelated. However, from a larger view, they may be solutions to one another.”

Elend smiled. “Like the lock and the key.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Sazed said, smiling. “Precisely like that.”

“It thumps,” Vin whispered, eyes closing. “In my head. I can feel it.”

Sazed paused, then wrapped a bandage around Vin’s arm. “Can you feel where it is?”

Vin shook her head. “I… There doesn’t seem to be a direction to the pulses. I thought they were distant, but they’re getting louder.”

“That must be the Well returning to power,” Sazed said. “It is fortunate that I know where to find it.”

Elend turned, and Vin opened her eyes again.

“My research has revealed the location, Lady Vin,” Sazed said. “I can draw you a map, from my metalminds.”

“Where?” Vin whispered.

“North,” Sazed said. “In the mountains of Terris. Atop one of the lower peaks, known as Deryatith. Travel there will be difficult this time of year…”

“I can do it,” Vin said firmly as Sazed turned to working on her chest wound. Elend flushed again, then paused as he turned away.

I’m… married. “You’re going to leave?” Elend asked, looking to Vin. “Now?”

“I have to,” Vin whispered. “I have to go to it, Elend.”

“You should go with her, Your Majesty,” Sazed said.

“What?”

Sazed sighed, looking up. “We have to face facts, Your Majesty. As you said earlier, Straff will soon take this city. If you are here, you will be executed. However, Lady Vin will undoubtedly need help securing the Well.”

“It’s supposed to hold great power,” Elend said, rubbing his chin. “Could we, you think, destroy those armies?”

Vin shook her head. “We couldn’t use it,” she whispered. “The power is a temptation. That’s what went wrong last time. Rashek took the power instead of giving it up.”

“Giving it up?” Elend asked. “What does that mean?”

“Letting it go, Your Majesty,” Sazed said. “Letting it defeat the Deepness on its own.”

“Trust,” Vin whispered. “It’s about trust.”

“However,” Sazed said, “I think that releasing this power could do great things for the land. Change things, and undo much of the damage the Lord Ruler did. I have a strong suspicion that it would destroy the koloss, since they were created by the Lord Ruler’s misuse of the power.”

“But Straff would hold the city,” Elend said.

“Yes,” Sazed said, “but if you leave, the transition will be peaceful. The Assembly has all but decided to accept him as their emperor, and it appears that he’ll let Penrod rule as a subject king. There will be no bloodshed, and you will be able to organize resistance from outside. Besides, who knows what releasing the power will do? Lady Vin could be left changed, much as the Lord Ruler was. With the crew in hiding within the city, it should not be so difficult to oust your father – particularly when he grows complacent in a year or so.”

Elend gritted his teeth. Another revolution. Yet, what Sazed said made sense. For so long, we’ve been worrying about the small-scale. He glanced at Vin, feeling a surge of warmth and love. Maybe it’s time I started listening to the things she’s been trying to tell me.

“Sazed,” Elend said, a sudden thought occurring to him, “do you think that I could convince the Terris people to help us?”

“Perhaps, Your Majesty,” Sazed said. “My prohibition against interfering – the one I have been ignoring – comes because I was given a different assignment by the Synod, not because we believe in avoiding all action. If you could convince the Synod that the future of the Terris people will be benefited by having a strong ally in Luthadel, you may just be able to get yourself military aid from Terris.”

Elend nodded, thoughtful.

“Remember the lock and the key, Your Majesty,” Sazed said, finishing off Vin’s second wound. “In this case, leaving seems like the opposite of what you should do. However, if you look at the larger picture, you will see that it’s precisely what you need to do.”

Vin opened her eyes, looking up at him, smiling. “We can do this, Elend. Come with me.”

Elend stood for a moment. Lock and key… “All right,” he said. “We’ll leave as soon as Vin is able.”

“She should be able to ride tomorrow,” Sazed said. “You know what pewter can do for a body.”

Elend nodded. “All right. I should have listened to you earlier, Vin. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see your homeland, Sazed. You can show it to us.”

“I will need to stay here, I fear,” Sazed said. “I should soon leave for the South to continue my work there. Tindwyl, however, can go with you – she has important information that needs to be passed on to my brethren the Keepers.”

“It will need to be a small group,” Vin said. “We’ll have to outrun – or perhaps sneak past – Straff’s men.”

“Just you three, I think,” Sazed said. “Or, perhaps one other person to help with watches while you sleep, someone skilled in hunting and scouting. Lord Lestibournes, perhaps?”

“Spook would be perfect,” Elend said, nodding. “You’re sure the other crewmembers will be safe in the city?”

“Of course they won’t,” Vin said, smiling. “But they’re experts. They hid from the Lord Ruler – they’ll be able to hide from Straff. Particularly if they don’t have to worry about keeping you safe.”

“Then it is decided,” Sazed said, standing. “You two should try to rest well tonight, despite the recent change in your relationship. Can you walk, Lady Vin?”

“No need,” Elend said, leaning down and picking her up. She wrapped her arms around him, though her grip was not tight, and he could see that her eyes were already drooping again.

He smiled. Suddenly, the world seemed a much simpler place. He would take some time and spend it on what was really important; then, once he and Vin had sought help from the North, they could return. He actually looked forward to coming back and tackling their problems with renewed vigor.

He held Vin tight, nodding good night to Sazed, then walking out toward his rooms. It seemed that everything had worked out fine in the end.

Sazed stood slowly, watching the two leave. He wondered what they would think of him, when they heard of Luthadel’s fall. At least they would have each other for support.

His wedding blessing was the last gift he could give them – that, and their lives. How will history judge me for my lies? he wondered. What will it think of the Terrisman who took such a hand in politics, the Terrisman who would fabricate mythology to save the lives of his friends? The things he’d said about the Well were, of course, falsehoods. If there was such a power, he had no idea where it was, nor what it would do.

How history judged him would probably depend on what Elend and Vin did with their lives. Sazed could only hope that he had done the right thing. Watching them go, knowing that their youthful love would be spared, he couldn’t help but smile at his decision.

With a sigh, he stooped down and gathered up his medical items; then he retreated to his rooms to fabricate the map he had promised Vin and Elend.