Yeden. If you all don't mind, I'd like to speak privately with my little
brother."
Kelsier didn't seem intimidated by Marsh's harsh tone. He nodded to the
group. "We're done for the evening, folks."
The others rose slowly, giving Marsh a wide berth as they left. Vin
followed them, pulling the door shut and walking down the stairs to give the
appearance of retiring to her room.
Less than three minutes later she was back at the door, listening carefully
to the conversation going on inside.
Rashek is a tall man—of course, most of these Terrismen are tall. He is young to receive so much
respect from the other packmen. He has charisma, and the women of court would probably
describe him as handsome, in a rugged sort of way.
Yet, it amazes me that anyone would give heed to a man who speaks such hatred. He has
never seen Khlennium, yet he curses the city. He does not know me, yet I can already see the
anger and hostility in his eyes.
7
THREE YEARS HADN'T CHANGED MARSH'S appearance much. He was still the
stern, commanding person Kelsier had known since childhood. There was
still that glint of disappointment in his eyes, and he spoke with the same air
of disapproval.
Yet, if Dockson were to be believed, Marsh's attitudes had changed much
since that day three years before. Kelsier still found it hard to believe that his
brother had given up leadership of the skaa rebellion. He had always been so
passionate about his work.
Apparently, that passion had dimmed. Marsh walked forward, regarding
the charcoal writing board with a critical eye. His clothing was stained
slightly by dark ash, though his face was relatively clean, for a skaa. He stood
for a moment, looking over Kelsier's notes. Finally, Marsh turned and tossed
a sheet of paper onto the chair beside Kelsier.
"What is this?" Kelsier asked, picking it up.
"The names of the eleven men you slaughtered last night," Marsh said. "I
thought you might at least want to know."
Kelsier tossed the paper into the crackling hearth. "They served the Final
Empire."
"They were men, Kelsier," Marsh snapped. "They had lives, families.
Several of them were skaa."
"Traitors."
"People," Marsh said. "People who were just trying to do the best with
what life gave them."
"Well, I'm just doing the same thing," Kelsier said. "And, fortunately, life
gave me the ability to push men like them off the tops of buildings. If they
want to stand against me like noblemen, then they can die like noblemen."
Marsh's expression darkened. "How can you be so flippant about
something like this?"
"Because, Marsh," Kelsier said, "humor is the only thing I've got left.
Humor and determination."
Marsh snorted quietly.
"You should be happy," Kelsier said. "After decades of listening to your
lectures, I've finally decided to do something worthwhile with my talents.
Now that you're here to help, I'm sure—"
"I'm not here to help," Marsh interrupted.
"Then why did you come?"
"To ask you a question." Marsh stepped forward, stopping right in front of
Kelsier. They were about the same height, but Marsh's stern personality
always made him seem to loom taller.
"How dare you do this?" Marsh asked quietly. "I dedicated my life to
overthrowing the Final Empire. While you and your thieving friends partied,
I hid runaways. While you planned petty burglaries, I organized raids. While
you lived in luxury, I watched brave people die of starvation."
Marsh reached up, stabbing a finger at Kelsier's chest. "How dare you?
How dare you try and hijack the rebellion for one of your little 'jobs'? How
dare you use this dream as a way of enriching yourself?"
Kelsier pushed Marsh's finger away. "That's not what this is about."
"Oh?" Marsh asked, tapping the word atium on the board. "Why the
games, Kelsier? Why lead Yeden along, pretending to accept him as your
'employer'? Why act like you care about the skaa? We both know what
you're really after."
Kelsier clenched his jaw, a bit of his humor melting away. He always
could do that to me. "You don't know me anymore, Marsh," Kelsier said
quietly. "This isn't about money—I once had more wealth than any man
could spend. This job is about something different."
Marsh stood close, studying Kelsier's eyes, as if searching for truth in
them. "You always were a good liar," he finally said.
Kelsier rolled his eyes. "Fine, think what you want. But don't preach to
me. Overthrowing the empire might have been your dream once—but now
you've become a good little skaa, staying in your shop and fawning over
noblemen when they visit."
"I've faced reality," Marsh said. "Something you've never been good at.
Even if you're serious about this plan, you'll fail. Everything the rebellion
has done—the raids, the thefts, the deaths—has accomplished nothing. Our
best efforts were never even a mild annoyance for the Lord Ruler."
"Ah," Kelsier said, "but being an annoyance is something that I am very
good at. In fact, I'm far more than just a 'mild' annoyance—people tell me I
can be downright frustrating. Might as well use this talent for the cause of
good, eh?"
Marsh sighed, turning away. "This isn't about a 'cause,' Kelsier. It's about
revenge. It's about you, just like everything always is. I'll believe that you
aren't after the money—I'll even believe that you intend to deliver Yeden this
army he's apparently paying you for. But I won't believe that you care."
"That's where you are wrong, Marsh," Kelsier said quietly. "That's where
you've always been wrong about me."
Marsh frowned. "Perhaps. How did this start, anyway? Did Yeden come to
you, or did you go to him?"
"Does it matter?" Kelsier asked. "Look, Marsh. I need someone to
infiltrate the Ministry. This plan won't go anywhere if we don't discover a
way to keep an eye on those Inquisitors."
Marsh turned. "You actually expect me to help you?"
Kelsier nodded. "That's why you came here, no matter what you say. You
once told me that you thought I could do great things if I ever applied myself
to a worthy goal. Well, that's what I'm doing now—and you're going to
help."
"It's not that easy anymore, Kell," Marsh said with a shake of his head.
"Some people are different now. Others are . . . gone."
Kelsier let the room grow quiet. Even the hearth's fire was starting to die
out. "I miss her too."
"I'm sure that you do—but I have to be honest with you, Kell. Despite
what she did . . . sometimes I wish that you hadn't been the one to survive the
Pits."
"I wish the same thing every day."
Marsh turned, studying Kelsier with his cold, discerning eyes. The eyes of
a Seeker. Whatever he saw reflected inside of Kelsier must have finally met
with his approval.
"I'm leaving," Marsh said. "But, for some reason you actually seem
sincere this time. I'll come back and listen to whatever insane plan you've
concocted. Then . . . well, we'll see."
Kelsier smiled. Beneath it all, Marsh was a good man—a better one than
Kelsier had ever been. As Marsh turned toward the door, Kelsier caught a
flicker of shadowed movement from beneath the doorway. He immediately
burned iron, and the translucent blue lines shot out from his body, connecting
him to nearby sources of metal. Marsh, of course, had none on his person—
not even any coins. Traveling through skaa sectors of town could be very
dangerous for a man who looked even marginally prosperous.
Someone else, however, hadn't yet learned not to carry metal on her
person. The blue lines were thin and weak—they didn't do well penetrating
wood—but they were just strong enough to let Kelsier locate the belt latch of
a person out in the hallway, moving quickly away from the door on silent
feet.
Kelsier smiled to himself. The girl was remarkably skilled. Her time on the
streets, however, had also left her with remarkable scars. Hopefully, he would
be able to encourage the skills while helping heal the scars.
"I'll return tomorrow," Marsh said as he reached the door.
"Just don't come by too early," Kelsier said with a wink. "I've got some
things to do tonight."
Vin waited quietly in her darkened room, listening to footsteps clomp down
the stairs to the ground floor. She crouched beside her door, trying to
determine if both sets had continued down the steps or not. The hallway fell
silent, and eventually she breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
A knock sounded on the door just inches from her head.
Her start of surprise nearly knocked her to the ground. He's good! she
thought.
She quickly ruffled her hair and rubbed her eyes, trying to make it appear
as if she had been sleeping. She untucked her shirt, and waited until the
knock came again before pulling open the door.
Kelsier lounged against the doorframe, backlit by the hallway's single
lantern. The tall man raised an eyebrow at her disheveled state.
"Yes?" Vin asked, trying to sound drowsy.
"So, what do you think of Marsh?"
"I don't know," Vin said, "I didn't see much of him before he kicked us
out."
Kelsier smiled. "You're not going to admit that I caught you, are you?"
Vin almost smiled back. Reen's training came to her rescue. The man who
wants you to trust him is the one you must fear the most. Her brother's voice
almost seemed to whisper in her head. It had grown stronger since she'd met
Kelsier, as if her instincts were on edge.
Kelsier studied her for a moment, then stepped back from the doorframe.
"Tuck in that shirt and follow me."
Vin frowned. "Where are we going?"
"To begin your training."
"Now?" Vin asked, glancing at the dark shutters to her room.
"Of course," Kelsier said. "It's a perfect night for a stroll."
Vin straightened her clothing, joining him in the hallway. If he actually
planned to begin teaching her, then she wasn't going to complain, no matter
what the hour. They walked down the steps to the first floor. The workroom
was dark, furniture projects lying half finished in the shadows. The kitchen,
however, was bright with light.
"Just a minute," Kelsier said, walking toward the kitchen.
Vin paused just inside the shadows of the workroom, letting Kelsier enter
the kitchen without her. She could just barely see inside. Dockson, Breeze,
and Ham sat with Clubs and his apprentices around a wide table. Wine and
ale were present, though in small amounts, and the men were munching on a
simple evening snack of puffed barley cakes and battered vegetables.
Laughter trickled out into the workroom. Not raucous laughter, such as had
often sounded from Camon's table. This was something softer—something
indicative of genuine mirth, of good-natured enjoyment.
Vin wasn't certain what kept her out of the room. She hesitated—as if the
light and the humor were a barrier—and she instead remained in the quiet,
solemn workroom. She watched from the darkness, however, and wasn't
completely able to suppress her longing.
Kelsier returned a moment later, carrying his pack and a small cloth
bundle. Vin regarded the bundle with curiosity, and he handed it to her with a
smile. "A present."
The cloth was slick and soft in Vin's fingers, and she quickly realized what
it was. She let the gray material unroll in her fingers, revealing a Mistborn
cloak. Like the garment Kelsier had worn the night before, it was tailored
completely from separate, ribbonlike strips of cloth.
"You look surprised," Kelsier noted.
"I . . . assumed that I'd have to earn this somehow."
"What's there to earn?" Kelsier said, pulling out his own cloak. "This is
who you are, Vin."
She paused, then threw the cloak over her shoulders and tied it on. It felt . .
. different. Thick and heavy on her shoulders, but light and unconstraining
around her arms and legs. The ribbons were sewn together at the top,
allowing her to pull it tight by the mantle if she wished. She felt . . .
enveloped. Protected.
"How does it feel?" Kelsier asked.
"Good," Vin said simply.
Kelsier nodded, pulling out several glass vials. He handed two to her.
"Drink one; keep the other in case you need it. I'll show you how to mix new
vials later."
Vin nodded, downing the first vial and tucking the second into her belt.
"I'm having some new clothing tailored for you," Kelsier said. "You'll
want to get into the habit of wearing things that don't have any metal on
them: belts with no buckles, shoes that slip on and off, trousers without
clasps. Perhaps later, if you're feeling daring, we'll get you some women's
clothing."
Vin flushed slightly.
Kelsier laughed. "I'm just teasing you. However, you're entering a new
world now—you may find that there are situations where it will be to your
advantage to look less like a crew thief and more like a young lady."
Vin nodded, following Kelsier as he walked to the shop's front door. He
pushed the portal open, revealing a wall of darkly shifting mists. He stepped
out into them. Taking a deep breath, Vin followed.
Kelsier shut the door behind them. The cobbled street felt muffled to Vin,
the shifting mists making everything just a bit damp. She couldn't see far in
either direction, and the street ends seemed to fade into nothingness, paths
into eternity. Above, there was no sky, just swirling currents of gray upon
gray.
"All right, let's begin," Kelsier said. His voice felt loud in the quiet, empty
street. There was a confidence to his tone, something that—confronted with
the mists all around—Vin certainly didn't feel.
"Your first lesson," Kelsier said, strolling down the street, Vin trailing
along beside him, "isn't about Allomancy, but attitude." He swept his hand
forward. "This, Vin. This is ours. The night, the mists—they belong to us.
Skaa avoid the mists as if they were death. Thieves and soldiers go out at
night, but they fear it nonetheless. Noblemen feign nonchalance, but the mist
makes them uncomfortable."
He turned, regarding her. "The mists are your friend, Vin. They hide you,
they protect you . . . and they give you power. Ministry doctrine—something
rarely shared with skaa—claims that the Mistborn are descendants of the only
men who remained true to the Lord Ruler during the days before his
Ascension. Other legends whisper that we are something beyond even the
Lord Ruler's power, something that was born on that day when the mists first
came upon the land."
Vin nodded slightly. It seemed odd to hear Kelsier speak so openly.
Buildings filled with sleeping skaa loomed on either side of the street. And
yet, the dark shutters and quiet air made Vin feel as if she and Kelsier were
alone. Alone in the most densely populated, overcrowded city in all of the
Final Empire.
Kelsier continued to walk, the spring in his step incongruent with the dark
gloom.
"Shouldn't we be worried about soldiers?" Vin asked quietly. Her crews
always had to be careful of nighttime Garrison patrols.
Kelsier shook his head. "Even if we were careless enough to be spotted, no
imperial patrol would dare bother Mistborn. They'd see our cloaks and
pretend not to see us. Remember, nearly all Mistborn are members of the
Great Houses—and the rest are from lesser Luthadel houses. Either way,
they're very important individuals."
Vin frowned. "So, the guards just ignore the Mistborn?"
Kelsier shrugged. "It's bad etiquette to acknowledge that the skulking
rooftop figure you see is actually a very distinguished and proper high lord—
or even high lady. Mistborn are so rare that houses can't afford to apply
gender prejudices to them.
"Anyway, most Mistborn live two lives—the life of the courtgoing
aristocrat, and the life of the sneaking, spying Allomancer. Mistborn
identities are closely guarded house secrets—rumors regarding who is
Mistborn are always a focus of high noble gossip."
Kelsier turned down another street, Vin following, still a bit nervous. She
wasn't certain where he was taking her; it was easy to get lost in the night.
Perhaps he didn't even have a destination, and was just accustoming her to
the mists.
"All right," Kelsier said, "let's get you used to the basic metals. Can you
feel your metal reserves?"
Vin paused. If she focused, she could distinguish eight sources of power
within her—each one far larger, even, than her two had been on the day when
Kelsier had tested her. She had been reticent to use her Luck much since
then. She was coming to realize that she had been using a weapon she'd
never really understood—a weapon that had accidentally drawn the attention
of a Steel Inquisitor.
"Begin burning them, one at a time," Kelsier said.
"Burning?"
"That's what we call it when you activate an Allomantic ability," Kelsier
said. "You 'burn' the metal associated with that power. You'll see what I
mean. Start with the metals you don't know about yet—we'll work on
Soothing and Raging emotions some other time."
Vin nodded, pausing in the middle of the street. Tentatively, she reached
out to one of the new sources of power. One of them was slightly familiar to
her. Had she used it before without realizing it? What would it do?
Only one way to find out . . . Uncertain what, exactly, she was supposed to
do, Vin gripped the source of power and tried to use it.
Immediately, she felt a flare of heat from within her chest. It wasn't
discomforting, but it was obvious and distinct. Along with the warmth came
something else—a feeling of rejuvenation, and of power. She felt . . . more
solid, somehow.
"What happened?" Kelsier asked.
"I feel different," Vin said. She held up her hand, and it seemed as if the
limb reacted just a bit too quickly. The muscles were eager. "My body is
strange. I don't feel tired anymore, and I feel alert."
"Ah," Kelsier said. "That's pewter. It enhances your physical abilities,
making you stronger, more able to resist fatigue and pain. You'll react more
quickly when you're burning it, and your body will be tougher."
Vin flexed experimentally. Her muscles didn't seem any bigger, yet she
could feel their strength. It wasn't just in her muscles, however—it was
everything about her. Her bones, her flesh, her skin. She reached out to her
reserve, and could feel it shrinking.
"I'm running out," she said.
Kelsier nodded. "Pewter burns relatively quickly. The vial I gave you was
measured to contain about ten minutes' worth of continuous burning—though
it will go faster if you flare often and slower if you are careful about when
you use it."
"Flare?"
"You can burn your metals a little more powerfully if you try," Kelsier
said. "It makes them run out much faster, and it's difficult to maintain, but it
can give you an extra boost."
Vin frowned, trying to do as he said. With a push of effort, she was able to
stoke the flames within her chest, flaring the pewter.
It was like the inhaled breath before a daring leap. A sudden rush of
strength and power. Her body grew tense with anticipation, and for just a
moment she felt invincible. Then it passed, her body relaxing slowly.
Interesting, she thought, noting how quickly her pewter had burned during
that brief moment.
"Now, there's something you need to know about Allomantic metals,"
Kelsier said as they strolled forward in the mists. "The more pure they are,
the more effective they are. The vials we prepare contain absolutely pure
metals, prepared and sold specifically for Allomancers.
"Alloys—like pewter—are even trickier, since the metal percentages have
to be mixed just right, if you want maximum power. In fact, if you aren't
careful when you buy your metals, you could end up with the wrong alloy
entirely."
Vin frowned. "You mean, someone might scam me?"
"Not intentionally," Kelsier said. "The thing is, most of the terms that
people use—words like 'brass,' 'pewter,' and 'bronze'—are really quite
vague, when you get down to it. Pewter, for instance, is generally accepted as
an alloy of tin mixed with lead, with perhaps some copper or silver,
depending on the use and the circumstances. Allomancer's pewter, however,
is an alloy of ninety-one percent tin, nine percent lead. If you want maximum
strength from your metal, you have to use those percentages."
"And . . . if you burn the wrong percentage?" Vin asked.
"If the mixture is only off by a bit, you'll still get some power out of it,"
Kelsier said. "However, if it's too far off, burning it will make you sick."
Vin nodded slowly. "I . . . think I've burned this metal before. Once in a
while, in very small amounts."
"Trace metals," Kelsier said. "From drinking water contaminated by
metals, or by eating with pewter utensils."
Vin nodded. Some of the mugs in Camon's lair had been pewter.
"All right," Kelsier said. "Extinguish the pewter and let's move on to
another metal."
Vin did as asked. The withdrawal of power left her feeling weak, tired, and
exposed.
"Now," Kelsier said, "you should be able to notice a kind of pairing
between your reserves of metal."
"Like the two emotion metals," Vin said.
"Exactly. Find the metal linked to pewter."
"I see it," Vin said.
"There are two metals for every power," Kelsier said. "One Pushes, one
Pulls—the second is usually an alloy of the first. For emotions—the external
mental powers—you Pull with zinc and Push with brass. You just used
pewter to Push your body. That's one of the internal physical powers."
"Like Ham," Vin said. "He burns pewter."
Kelsier nodded. "Mistings who can burn pewter are called Thugs. A crude
term, I suppose—but they tend to be rather crude people. Our dear Hammond
is something of an exception to that rule."
"So, what does the other internal physical metal do?"
"Try it and see."
Vin did so eagerly, and the world suddenly became brighter around her. Or
. . . well, that wasn't quite right. She could see better, and she could see
farther, but the mists were still there. They were just . . . more translucent.
The ambient light around her seemed brighter, somehow.
There were other changes. She could feel her clothing. She realized that
she had always been able to feel it, but she usually ignored it. Now, however,
it felt closer. She could sense the textures, and was acutely aware of the
places where the cloth was tight on her.
She was hungry. That, too, she had been ignoring—yet now her hunger
seemed far more pressing. Her skin felt wetter, and she could smell the crisp
air mixed with scents of dirt, soot, and refuse.
"Tin enhances your senses," Kelsier said, his voice suddenly seeming quite
loud. "And it's one of the slowest-burning metals—the tin in that vial is
enough to keep you going for hours. Most Mistborn leave their tin on
whenever they're out in the mists—I've had mine on since we left the shop."
Vin nodded. The wealth of sensations was nearly overwhelming. She could
hear creaks and scuffles in the darkness, and they made her want to jump in
alarm, certain that someone was sneaking up behind her.
This is going to take some getting used to.
"Leave it burning," Kelsier said, waving for her to walk beside him as he
continued down the street. "You'll want to accustom yourself to the enhanced
senses. Just don't flare it all the time. Not only would you run out of it very
quickly, but perpetually flaring metals does . . . strange things to people."
"Strange?" Vin asked.
"Metals—especially tin and pewter—stretch your body. Flaring the metals
only pushes this stretching further. Stretch it too far for too long, and things
start to break."
Vin nodded uncomfortably. Kelsier fell quiet, and they continued to walk,
letting Vin explore her new sensations and the detailed world that tin
revealed. Before, her vision had been restricted to a tiny pocket within the
night. Now, however, she saw an entire city enveloped by a blanket of
shifting, swirling mist. She could make out keeps like small, dark mountains
in the distance, and could see specks of light from windows, like pin-pricked
holes in the night. And above . . . she saw lights in the sky.
She stopped, gazing up with wonder. They were faint, blurred to even her
tin-enhanced eyes, but she could just barely make them out. Hundreds of
them. Thousands of them. So small, like the dying embers of candles recently
extinguished.
"Stars," Kelsier said, strolling up beside her. "You can't see them very
often, even with tin. It must be a particularly clear night. People used to be
able to look up and see them every night—that was before the mists came,
before the Ashmounts erupted ash and smoke into the sky."
Vin glanced at him. "How do you know?"
Kelsier smiled. "The Lord Ruler has tried very hard to crush memories of
those days, but still some remain." He turned, not really having answered her
question, and continued to walk. Vin joined him. Suddenly, with tin, the
mists around her didn't seem so ominous. She was beginning to see how
Kelsier could walk about at night with such confidence.
"All right," Kelsier eventually said. "Let's try another metal."
Vin nodded, leaving her tin on but picking another metal to burn as well.
When she did so, a very strange thing happened—a multitude of faint blue
lines sprung from her chest, streaking out into the spinning mists. She froze,
gasping slightly and looking down at her chest. Most of the lines were thin,
like translucent pieces of twine, though a couple were as thick as yarn.
Kelsier chuckled. "Leave that metal and its partner alone for the moment.
They're a bit more complicated than the others."
"What . . .?" Vin asked, tracing the lines of blue light with her eyes. They
pointed at random objects. Doors, windows—a couple even pointed at
Kelsier.
"We'll get to it," he promised. "Extinguish that one and try one of the last
two."
Vin extinguished the strange metal and ignored its companion, picking one
of the last metals. Immediately, she felt a strange vibration. Vin paused. The
pulses didn't make a sound that she could hear, yet she could feel them
washing across her. They seemed to be coming from Kelsier. She looked at
him, frowning.
"That's probably bronze," Kelsier said. "The internal mental Pulling metal.
It lets you sense when someone is using Allomancy nearby. Seekers, like my
brother, use it. Generally it's not that useful—unless you happen to be a Steel
Inquisitor searching for skaa Mistings."
Vin paled. "Inquisitors can use Allomancy?"
Kelsier nodded. "They're all Seekers—I'm not sure if that's because
Seekers are chosen to become Inquisitors, or if the process of becoming an
Inquisitor grants the power. Either way, since their main duties are to find
half-breed children and noblemen who use Allomancy improperly, it's a
useful skill for them to have. Unfortunately, 'useful' for them means 'rather
annoying' for us."
Vin began to nod, then froze. The pulsing had stopped.
"What happened?" she asked.
"I started burning copper," Kelsier said, "the companion to bronze. When
you burn copper, it hides your use of powers from other Allomancers. You
can try burning it now, if you want, though you won't sense much."
Vin did so. The only change was a feeling of slight vibration within her.
"Copper is a vital metal to learn," Kelsier said. "It will hide you from
Inquisitors. We probably don't have anything to worry about tonight—the
Inquisitors would assume us to be regular noble Mistborn, out for training.
However, if you're ever in a skaa guise and need to burn metals, make sure
you turn on your copper first."
Vin nodded appreciatively.
"In fact," Kelsier said, "many Mistborn keep their copper on all the time. It
burns slowly, and it makes you invisible to other Allomancers. It hides you
from bronze, and it also prevents others from manipulating your emotions."
Vin perked up.
"I thought that might interest you," Kelsier said. "Anyone burning copper
is immune to emotional Allomancy. In addition, copper's influence occurs in
a bubble around you. This cloud—called a coppercloud—hides anyone inside
of it from the senses of a Seeker, though it won't make them immune to
emotional Allomancy, like it will you."
"Clubs," Vin said. "That's what a Smoker does."
Kelsier nodded. "If one of our people is noticed by a Seeker, they can run
back to the lair and disappear. They can also practice their abilities without
fear of being discovered. Allomantic pulses coming from a shop in a skaa
sector of town would be a quick giveaway to a passing Inquisitor."
"But, you can burn copper," Vin said. "Why were you so worried about
finding a Smoker for the crew?"
"I can burn copper, true," Kelsier said. "And so can you. We can use all of
the powers, but we can't be everywhere. A successful crewleader needs to
know how to divide labor, especially on a job as big as this one. Standard
practice has a coppercloud going at all times in the lair. Clubs doesn't do it
all himself—several of those apprentices are Smokers too. When you hire a
man like Clubs, it's understood that he'll provide you with a base of
operations and a team of Smokers competent enough to keep you hidden at
all times."
Vin nodded. However, she was more interested in copper's ability to
protect her emotions. She would need to locate enough of it to keep it burning
all the time.
They started walking again, and Kelsier gave her more time to get used to
burning tin. Vin's mind, however, began to wander. Something didn't feel . .
. right to her. Why was Kelsier telling her all of these things? It seemed like
he was giving away his secrets too easily.
Except one, she thought suspiciously. The metal with the blue lines. He
hasn't gone back to it yet. Perhaps that was the thing he was going to keep
from her, the power he would hold in reserve to maintain control over her.
It must be strong. The most powerful of the eight.
As they walked through the quiet streets, Vin reached tentatively inside.
She eyed Kelsier, then carefully burned that unknown metal. Again, the lines
sprang up around her, pointing in seemingly random directions.
The lines moved with her. One end of each thread stayed stuck to her
chest, while the other end remained attached to a given place along the street.
New lines appeared as she walked, and old ones faded, disappearing behind.
The lines came in various widths, and some of them were brighter than
others.
Curious, Vin tested the lines with her mind, trying to discover their secret.
She focused on a particularly small and innocent-looking one, and found that
she could feel it individually if she concentrated. She almost felt like she
could touch it. She reached out with her mind and gave it a slight tug.
The line shook, and something immediately flew out of the darkness
toward her. Vin yelped, trying to jump away, but the object—a rusty nail—
shot directly toward her.
Suddenly, something grabbed the nail, ripping it away and throwing it back
out into the darkness.
Vin came up from her roll in a tense crouch, mistcloak fluttering around
her. She scanned the darkness, then glanced at Kelsier, who was chuckling
softly.
"I should have known you'd try that," he said.
Vin flushed in embarrassment.
"Come on," he said, waving her over. "No harm done."
"The nail attacked me!" Did that metal bring objects to life? That would be
an incredible power indeed.
"Actually, you kind of attacked yourself," Kelsier said.
Vin stood carefully, then joined him as he began to walk down the street
again.
"I'll explain what you did in a moment," he promised. "First, there's
something you have to understand about Allomancy."
"Another rule?"
"More a philosophy," Kelsier said. "It has to do with consequences."
Vin frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Every action we take has consequences, Vin," Kelsier said. "I've found
that in both Allomancy and life, the person who can best judge the
consequences of their actions will be the most successful. Take burning
pewter, for instance. What are its consequences?"
Vin shrugged. "You get stronger."
"What happens if you're carrying something heavy when your pewter runs
out?"
Vin paused. "I suppose you'd drop it."
"And, if it's too heavy, you could hurt yourself seriously. Many a Misting
Thug has shrugged off a dire wound while fighting, only to die from that
same wound once their pewter ran out."
"I see," Vin said quietly.
"Ha!"
Vin jumped in shock, throwing her hands up over her enhanced ears.
"Ow!" she complained, glaring at Kelsier.
He smiled. "Burning tin has consequences too. If someone produces a
sudden light or sound, you can be blinded or stunned."
"But, what does that have to do with those last two metals?"
"Iron and steel give you the ability to manipulate other metals around
you," Kelsier explained. "With iron, you can Pull a metal source toward
yourself. With steel, you can Push one away. Ah, here we are."
Kelsier stopped, looking up ahead.
Through the mist, Vin could see the massive city wall looming above
them. "What are we doing here?"
"We're going to practice Ironpulling and Steelpushing," Kelsier said. "But
first, some basics." He pulled something out of his belt—a clip, the smallest
denomination of coin. He held it up before her, standing to the side. "Burn
steel, the opposite of the metal you burned a few moments ago."
Vin nodded. Again, the blue lines sprang up around her. One of them
pointed directly at the coin in Kelsier's hand.
"All right," Kelsier said. "Push on it."
Vin reached toward the proper thread and Pushed slightly. The coin flipped
out of Kelsier's fingers, traveling directly away from Vin. She continued to
focus on it, Pushing the coin through the air until it snapped against the wall
of a nearby house.
Vin was thrown violently backward in a sudden, jerking motion. Kelsier
caught her and kept her from falling to the ground.
Vin stumbled and righted herself. Across the street, the coin—now
released from her control—plinked to the ground.
"What happened?" Kelsier asked her.
She shook her head. "I don't know. I Pushed on the coin, and it flew away.
But when it hit the wall, I was pushed away."
"Why?"
Vin frowned thoughtfully. "I guess . . . I guess the coin couldn't go
anywhere, so I had to be the one that moved."
Kelsier nodded approvingly. "Consequences, Vin. You use your own
weight when you Steelpush. If you're a lot heavier than your anchor, it will
fly away from you like that coin did. However, if the object is heavier than
you are—or if it runs into something that is—you'll be Pushed away.
Ironpulling is similar—either you'll be Pulled toward the object or it will be
Pulled toward you. If your weights are similar, then you'll both move.
"This is the great art of Allomancy, Vin. Knowing how much, or how
little, you will move when you burn steel or iron will give you a major
advantage over your opponents. You'll find that these two are the most
versatile and useful of your abilities."
Vin nodded.
"Now, remember," he continued. "In both cases, the force of your Push or
Pull is directly away from or toward you. You can't flip things around with
your mind, controlling them to go wherever you want. That's not the way that
Allomancy works, because that's not the way the physical world works.
When you push against something—whether with Allomancy or with your
hands—it goes directly in the opposite direction. Force, reactions,
consequences. Understand?"
Vin nodded again.
"Good," Kelsier said happily. "Now, let's go jump over that wall."
"What?"
He left her standing dumbfounded in the street. She watched him approach
the base of the wall, then scurried over to him.
"You're insane!" she said quietly.
Kelsier smiled. "I think that's the second time today you've said that to
me. You need to pay better attention—if you'd been listening to everyone
else, you'd know that my sanity departed long ago."
"Kelsier," she said, looking up at the wall. "I can't. . . . I mean, I've never
really even used Allomancy before this evening!"
"Yes, but you're such a quick learner," Kelsier said, pulling something out
from beneath his cloak. It appeared to be a belt. "Here, put this on. It's got
metal weights strapped to it. If something goes wrong, I'll probably be able to
catch you."
"Probably?" Vin asked nervously, strapping on the belt.
Kelsier smiled, then dropped a large metal ingot at his feet. "Put the ingot
directly below you, and remember to Steel-push, not Ironpull. Don't stop
Pushing until you reach the top of the wall."
Then he bent down and jumped.
Kelsier shot into the air, his dark form vanishing into the curling mists. Vin
waited for a moment, but he didn't plummet back down to his doom.
All was still, even to her enhanced ears. The mists whirled playfully
around her. Taunting her. Daring her.
She glanced down at the ingot, burning steel. The blue line glowed with a
faint, ghostly light. She stepped over to the ingot, standing with one foot on
either side of it. She glanced up at the mists, then down one last time.
Finally, she took a deep breath and Pushed against the ingot with all of her
strength.
"He shall defend their ways, yet shall violate them. He will be their savior, yet they shall call him
heretic. His name shall be Discord, yet they shall love him for it."
8
VIN SHOT INTO THE AIR. She suppressed a scream, remembering to continue
Pushing despite her fear. The stone wall was a blur of motion just a few feet
away from her. The ground disappeared below, and the line of blue pointing
toward the ingot grew fainter and fainter.
What happens if it disappears?
She began to slow. The fainter the line grew, the more her speed
decreased. After just a few moments of flight, she crept to a halt—and was
left hanging in the air above a nearly invisible blue line.
"I've always liked the view from up here."
Vin glanced to the side. Kelsier stood a short distance away; she had been
so focused that she hadn't noticed that she was hovering just a few feet from
the top of the wall.
"Help!" she said, continuing to Push desperately, lest she fall. The mists
below her shifted and spun, like some dark ocean of damned souls.
"You don't have to worry too much," Kelsier said. "It's easier to balance
in the air if you have a tripod of anchors, but you can do fine with a single
anchor. Your body is used to balancing itself. Part of what you've been doing
since you learned to walk transfers to Allomancy. As long as you stay still,
hanging at the very edge of your Pushing ability, you'll be pretty stable—
your mind and body will correct any slight deviations from the base center of
your anchor below, keeping you from falling to the sides.
"If you were to Push on something else, or move too much to one side,
though . . . well, you'd lose your anchor below, and wouldn't be pushing
directly up anymore. Then you'd have problems—you'd tip over like a lead
weight on the top of a very tall pole."
"Kelsier . . ." Vin said.
"I hope you aren't afraid of heights, Vin," Kelsier said. "That's quite a
disadvantage for a Mistborn."
"I'm . . . not . . . afraid . . . of . . . heights," Vin said through gritted teeth.
"But I'm also not accustomed to hanging in the air a hundred feet above the
bloody street!"
Kelsier chuckled, but Vin felt a force tug against her belt, pulling her
through the air toward him. He grabbed her and pulled her up over the stone
railing, then set her down beside him. He reached an arm over the side of the
wall. A second later, the ingot shot up through the air, scraping along the side
of the wall, until it flipped into his waiting hand.
"Good job," he said. "Now we go back down." He tossed the ingot over his
shoulder, casting it into the dark mists on the other side of the wall.
"We're really going outside?" Vin asked. "Outside the city walls? At
night?"
Kelsier smiled in that infuriating way of his. He walked over and climbed
onto the battlements. "Varying the strength with which you Push or Pull is
difficult, but possible. It's better to just fall a bit, then Push to slow yourself.
Let go and fall some more, then Push again. If you get the rhythm right,
you'll reach the ground just fine."
"Kelsier," Vin said, approaching the wall. "I don't . . ."
"You're at the top of the city wall now, Vin," he said, stepping out into the
air. He hung, hovering, balanced as he'd explained to her before. "There are
only two ways down. Either you jump off, or you try and explain to that
guard patrol why a Mistborn needs to use their stairwell."
Vin turned with concern, noting an approaching bob of lanternlight in the
dark mists.
She turned back to Kelsier, but he was gone. She cursed, bending over the
side of the wall and looking down into the mists. She could hear the guards
behind her, speaking softly to one another as they walked along the wall.
Kelsier was right: She didn't have many options. Angry, she climbed up
onto the battlement. She wasn't afraid of heights in particular, but who
wouldn't be apprehensive, standing atop the wall, looking down at her doom?
Vin's heart fluttered, her stomach twisting.
I hope Kelsier's out of the way, she thought, checking the blue line to make
certain she was above the ingot. Then, she stepped off.
She immediately began to plummet toward the ground. She Pushed
reflexively with her steel, but her trajectory was off; she had fallen to the side
of the ingot, not directly toward it. Consequently, her Push nudged her to the
side even farther, and she began to tumble through the air.
Alarmed, she Pushed again—harder this time, flaring her steel. The sudden
effort launched her back upward. She arced sideways through the air,
popping up into the air alongside the walltop. The passing guards spun with
surprise, but their faces soon became indistinct as Vin fell back down toward
the ground.
Mind muddled by terror, she reflexively reached out and Pulled against the
ingot, trying to yank herself toward it. And, of course, it obediently shot up
toward her.
I'm dead.
Then her body lurched, pulled upward by the belt. Her descent slowed
until she was drifting quietly through the air. Kelsier appeared in the mists,
standing on the ground beneath her; he was—of course—smiling.
He let her drop the last few feet, catching her, then setting her upright on
the soft earth. She stood quivering for a moment, breathing in terse, anxious
breaths.
"Well, that was fun," Kelsier said lightly.
Vin didn't respond.
Kelsier sat down on a nearby rock, obviously giving her time to gather her
wits. Eventually, she burned pewter, using the sensation of solidness it
provided to steady her nerves.
"You did well," Kelsier said.
"I nearly died."
"Everybody does, their first time," Kelsier said. "Ironpulling and
Steelpushing are dangerous skills. You can impale yourself with a bit of
metal that you Pull into your own body, you can jump and leave your anchor
too far behind, or you can make a dozen other mistakes.
"My experience—limited though it is—has been that it's better to get into
those extreme circumstances early, when someone can watch over you.
Anyway, I assume you can understand why it's important for an Allomancer
to carry as little metal on their body as possible."
Vin nodded, then paused, reaching up to her ear. "My earring," she said.
"I'll have to stop wearing it."
"Does it have a clip on the back?" Kelsier asked.
Vin shook her head. "It's just a small stud, and the pin on the back bends
down."
"Then you'll be all right," Kelsier said. "Metal in your body—even if only
a bit of it is in your body—can't be Pushed or Pulled. Otherwise another
Allomancer could rip the metals out of your stomach while you were burning
them."
Good to know, Vin thought.
"It's also why those Inquisitors can walk around so confidently with a pair
of steel spikes sticking out of their heads. The metal pierces their bodies, so it
can't be affected by another Allomancer. Keep the earring—it's small, so you
won't be able to do much with it, but you could use it as a weapon in an
emergency."
"All right."
"Now, you ready to go?"
She looked up at the wall, preparing to jump again, then nodded.
"We're not going back up," Kelsier said. "Come on."
Vin frowned as Kelsier began to walk out into the mists. So, does he have
a destination after all—or has he just decided to wander some more? Oddly,
his affable nonchalance made him very difficult to read.
Vin hurried to keep up, not wanting to be left alone in the mists. The
landscape around Luthadel was barren save for scrub and weeds. Prickles and
dried leaves—both dusted with ash from an earlier ashfall—rubbed against
her legs as they walked. The underbrush crunched as they walked, quiet and a
bit sodden with mist dew.
Occasionally, they passed heaps of ash that had been carted out of the city.
Most of the time, however, ash was thrown into the River Channerel, which
passed through the city. Water broke it down eventually—or, at least, that
was what Vin assumed. Otherwise the entire continent would have been
buried long ago.
Vin stayed close to Kelsier as they walked. Though she had traveled
outside cities before, she had always moved as part of a group of boatmen—
the skaa workers who ran narrow-boats and barges up and down the many
canal routes in the Final Empire. It had been hard work—most noblemen
used skaa instead of horses to pull the boats along the towpath—but there had
been a certain freedom to knowing that she was traveling at all, for most
skaa, even skaa thieves, never left their plantation or town.
The constant movement from city to city had been Reen's choice; he had
been obsessive about never getting locked down. He usually got them places
on canal boats run by underground crews, never staying in one place for more
than a year. He had kept moving, always going. As if running from
something.
They continued to walk. At night, even the barren hills and scrub-covered
plains took on a forbidding air. Vin didn't speak, though she tried to make as
little noise as possible. She had heard tales of what went abroad in the land at
night, and the cover of the mists—even pierced by tin as it now was—made
her feel as if she were being watched.
The sensation grew more unnerving as they traveled. Soon, she began to
hear noises in the darkness. They were muffled and faint—crackles of weeds,
shuffles in the echoing mist.
You're just being paranoid! she told herself as she jumped at some half-
imagined sound. Eventually, however, she could stand it no more.
"Kelsier!" she said with an urgent whisper—one that sounded betrayingly
loud to her enhanced ears. "I think there's something out there."
"Hum?" Kelsier asked. He looked lost in his thoughts.
"I think something is following us!"
"Oh," Kelsier said. "Yes, you're right. It's a mistwraith."
Vin stopped dead in her tracks. Kelsier, however, kept going.
"Kelsier!" she said, causing him to pause. "You mean they're real?"
"Of course they are," Kelsier said. "Where do you think all the stories
came from?"
Vin stood in dumbfounded shock.
"You want to go look at it?" Kelsier asked.
"Look at the mistwraith?" Vin asked. "Are you—" She stopped.
Kelsier chuckled, strolling back to her. "Mistwraiths might be a bit
disturbing to look at, but they're relatively harmless. They're scavengers,
mostly. Come on."
He began to retrace their footsteps, waving her to follow. Reluctant—but
morbidly curious—Vin followed. Kelsier walked at a brisk pace, leading her
to the top of a relatively scrub-free hill. He crouched down, motioning for
Vin to do likewise.
"Their hearing isn't very good," he said as she knelt in the rough, ashen
dirt beside him. "But their sense of smell—or, rather, taste—is quite acute.
It's probably following our trail, hoping that we'll discard something edible."
Vin squinted in the darkness. "I can't see it," she said, searching the mists
for a shadowed figure.
"There," Kelsier said, pointing toward a squat hill.
Vin frowned, imagining a creature crouching atop the hill, watching her as
she looked for it.
Then the hill moved.
Vin jumped slightly. The dark mound—perhaps ten feet tall and twice as
long—lurched forward in a strange, shuffling gait, and Vin leaned forward,
trying to get a better look.
"Flare your tin," Kelsier suggested.
Vin nodded, calling upon a burst of extra Allomantic power. Everything
immediately became lighter, the mists becoming even less of an obstruction.
What she saw caused her to shiver—fascinated, revolted, and more than a
little disturbed. The creature had smoky, translucent skin, and Vin could see
its bones. It had dozens upon dozens of limbs, and each one looked as if it
had come from a different animal. There were human hands, bovine hooves,
canine haunches, and others she couldn't identify.
The mismatched limbs let the creature walk—though it was more of a
shamble. It crawled along slowly, moving like an awkward centipede. Many
of the limbs, in fact, didn't even look functional—they jutted from the
creature's flesh in a twisted, unnatural fashion.
Its body was bulbous and elongated. It wasn't just a blob, though . . . there
was a strange logic to its form. It had a distinct skeletal structure, and—
squinting through tin-enhanced eyes—she thought she could make out
translucent muscles and sinew wrapping the bones. The creature flexed odd
jumbles of muscles as it moved, and appeared to have a dozen different rib
cages. Along the main body, arms and legs hung at unnerving angles.
And heads—she counted six. Despite the translucent skin, she could make
out a horse head sitting beside that of a deer. Another head turned toward her,
and she could see its human skull. The head sat atop a long spinal cord
attached to some kind of animal torso, which was in turn attached to a jumble
of strange bones.
Vin nearly retched. "What . . .? How . . .?"
"Mistwraiths have malleable bodies," Kelsier said. "They can shape their
skin around any skeletal structure, and can even re-create muscles and organs
if they have a model to mimic."
"You mean . . .?"
Kelsier nodded. "When they find a corpse, they envelop it and slowly
digest the muscles and organs. Then, they use what they've eaten as a pattern,
creating an exact duplicate of the dead creature. They rearrange the parts a
little bit—excreting the bones they don't want, while adding the ones they do
want to their body—forming a jumble like what you see out there."
Vin watched the creature shamble across the field, following her tracks. A
flap of slimy skin drooped from its underbelly, trailing along the ground.
Tasting for scents, Vin thought. Following the smell of our passing. She let
her tin return to normal, and the mistwraith once again became a shadowed
mound. The silhouette, however, only seemed to heighten its abnormality.
"Are they intelligent, then?" Vin asked. "If they can split up a . . . body and
put the pieces where they want?"
"Intelligent?" Kelsier asked. "No, not one this young. More instinctual
than intelligent."
Vin shivered again. "Do people know about these things? I mean, other
than the legends?"
"What do you mean by 'people'?" Kelsier asked. "A lot of Allomancers
know about them, and I'm sure the Ministry does. Regular people . . . well,
they just don't go out at night. Most skaa fear and curse mistwraiths, but go
their entire lives without actually seeing one."
"Lucky for them," Vin muttered. "Why doesn't someone do something
about these things?"
Kelsier shrugged. "They're not that dangerous."
"That one has a human head!"
"It probably found a corpse," Kelsier said. "I've never heard of a
mistwraith attacking a full-grown, healthy adult. That's probably why
everyone leaves them alone. And, of course, the high nobility have devised
their own uses for the creatures."
Vin looked at him questioningly, but he said no more, rising and walking
down the hillside. She shot one more glance at the unnatural creature, then
took off, following Kelsier.
"Is that what you brought me out here to see?" Vin asked.
Kelsier chuckled. "Mistwraiths might look eerie, but they're hardly worth
such a long trip. No, we're heading over there."
She followed his gesture, and was able to make out a change in the
landscape ahead. "The imperial highroad? We've circled around to the front
of the city."
Kelsier nodded. After a short walk—during which Vin glanced backward
no less than three times to make certain the mistwraith hadn't gained on them
—they left the scrub and stepped onto the flat, packed earth of the imperial
highroad. Kelsier paused, scanning the road in either direction. Vin frowned,
wondering what he was doing.
Then she saw the carriage. It was parked by the side of the highroad, and
Vin could see that there was a man waiting beside it.
"Ho, Sazed," Kelsier said, walking forward.
The man bowed. "Master Kelsier," he said, his smooth voice carrying well
in the night air. It had a higher pitch to it, and he spoke with an almost
melodic accent. "I almost thought that you had decided not to come."
"You know me, Saze," Kelsier said, jovially slapping the man on the
shoulder. "I'm the soul of punctuality." He turned and waved a hand toward
Vin. "This apprehensive little creature is Vin."
"Ah, yes," Sazed said, speaking in a slow, well-enunciated way. There was
something strange about his accent. Vin approached cautiously, studying the
man. Sazed had a long, flat face and a willowy body. He was even taller than
Kelsier—tall enough to be a bit abnormal—and his arms were unusually
long.
"You're a Terrisman," Vin said. His earlobes had been stretched out, and
the ears themselves contained studs that ran around their perimeter. He wore
the lavish, colorful robes of a Terris steward—the garments were made of
embroidered, overlapping V shapes, alternating among the three colors of his
master's house.
"Yes, child," Sazed said, bowing. "Have you known many of my people?"
"None," Vin said. "But I know that the high nobility prefer Terrismen
stewards and attendants."
"Indeed they do, child," Sazed said. He turned to Kelsier. "We should go,
Master Kelsier. It is late, and we are still an hour away from Fellise."
Fellise, Vin thought. So, we're going to see the impostor Lord Renoux.
Sazed opened the carriage door for them, then closed it after they climbed
in. Vin settled on one of the plush seats as she heard Sazed climb atop the
vehicle and set the horses in motion.
Kelsier sat quietly in the carriage. The window shades were closed against
the mist, and a small lantern, half shielded, hung in the corner. Vin rode on
the seat directly across from him—her legs tucked up underneath her, her
enveloping mistcloak pulled close, hiding her arms and legs.
She always does that, Kelsier thought. Wherever she is, she tries to be as
small and unnoticeable as possible. So tense. Vin didn't sit, she crouched.
She didn't walk, she prowled. Even when she was sitting in the open, she
seemed to be trying to hide.
She's a brave one, though. During his own training, Kelsier hadn't been
quite so willing to throw himself off of a city wall—old Gemmel had been
forced to push him.
Vin watched him with those quiet, dark eyes of hers. When she noticed his
attention, she glanced away, huddling down a little more within her cloak.
Unexpectedly, however, she spoke.
"Your brother," she said in her soft near-whisper of a voice. "You two
don't get along very well."
Kelsier raised an eyebrow. "No. We never have, really. It's a shame. We
should, but we just . . . don't."
"He's older than you?"
Kelsier nodded.
"Did he beat you often?" Vin asked.
Kelsier frowned. "Beat me? No, he didn't beat me at all."
"You stopped him, then?" Vin said. "Maybe that's why he doesn't like
you. How did you escape? Did you run, or were you just stronger than him?"
"Vin, Marsh never tried to beat me. We argued, true—but we never really
wanted to hurt one another."
Vin didn't contradict him, but he could see in her eyes that she didn't
believe him.
What a life . . . Kelsier thought, falling silent. There were so many children
like Vin in the underground. Of course, most died before reaching her age.
Kelsier had been one of the lucky ones: His mother had been a resourceful
mistress of a high nobleman, a clever woman who had managed to hide the
fact that she was skaa from her lord. Kelsier and Marsh had grown up
privileged—considered illegitimate, but still noble—until their father had
finally discovered the truth.
"Why did you teach me those things?" Vin asked, interrupting his
thoughts. "About Allomancy, I mean."
Kelsier frowned. "I promised you that I would."
"Now that I know your secrets, what is to keep me from running away
from you?"
"Nothing," Kelsier said.
Once again, her distrusting glare told him that she didn't believe his
answer. "There are metals you didn't tell me about. Back in our meeting on
the first day, you said there were ten."
Kelsier nodded, leaning forward. "There are. But I didn't leave the last two
out because I wanted to keep things from you. They're just . . . difficult to get
used to. It will be easier if you practice with the basic metals first. However,
if you want to know about the last two, I can teach you once we arrive in
Fellise."
Vin's eyes narrowed.
Kelsier rolled his eyes. "I'm not trying to trick you, Vin. People serve on
my crews because they want to, and I'm effective because they can rely on
one another. No distrust, no betrayals."
"Except one," Vin whispered. "The betrayal that sent you to the Pits."
Kelsier froze. "Where did you hear that?"
Vin shrugged.
Kelsier sighed, rubbing his forehead with one hand. That wasn't what he
wanted to do—he wanted to scratch his scars, the ones that ran all along his
fingers and hands, twisting up his arms toward his shoulders. He resisted.
"That isn't something worth talking about," he said.
"But there was a traitor," Vin said.
"We don't know for certain." That sounded weak, even to him.
"Regardless, my crews rely on trust. That means no coercions. If you want
out, we can go back to Luthadel right now. I'll show you the last two metals,
then you can be on your way."
"I don't have enough money to survive on my own," Vin said.
Kelsier reached inside of his cloak and pulled out a bag of coins, then
tossed it onto the seat beside her. "Three thousand boxings. The money I took
from Camon."
Vin glanced at the bag distrustfully.
"Take it," Kelsier said. "You're the one who earned it—from what I've
been able to gather, your Allomancy was behind most of Camon's recent
successes, and you were the one who risked Pushing the emotions of an
obligator."
Vin didn't move.
Fine, Kelsier thought, reaching up and knocking on the underside of the
coachman's chair. The carriage stopped, and Sazed soon appeared at his
window.
"Turn the carriage around please, Saze," Kelsier said. "Take us back to
Luthadel."
"Yes, Master Kelsier."
Within moments, the carriage was rolling back in the direction it had
come. Vin watched in silence, but she seemed a little less certain of herself.
She eyed the bag of coins.
"I'm serious, Vin," Kelsier said. "I can't have someone on my team who
doesn't want to work with me. Turning you away isn't a punishment; it's just
the way things must be."
Vin didn't respond. Letting her go would be a gamble—but forcing her to
stay would be a bigger one. Kelsier sat, trying to read her, trying to
understand her. Would she betray them to the Final Empire if she left? He
thought not. She wasn't a bad person.
She just thought that everybody else was.
"I think your plan is crazy," she said quietly.
"So do half the people on the crew."
"You can't defeat the Final Empire."
"We don't have to," Kelsier said. "We just have to get Yeden an army,
then seize the palace."
"The Lord Ruler will stop you," Vin said. "You can't beat him—he's
immortal."
"We have the Eleventh Metal," Kelsier said. "We'll find a way to kill
him."
"The Ministry is too powerful. They'll find your army and destroy it."
Kelsier leaned forward, looking Vin in the eye. "You trusted me enough to
jump off the top of the wall, and I caught you. You're going to have to trust
me this time too."
She obviously didn't like the word "trust" very much. She studied him in
the weak lanternlight, remaining quiet long enough that the silence grew
uncomfortable.
Finally, she snatched the bag of coins, quickly hiding it beneath her cloak.
"I'll stay," she said. "But not because I trust you."
Kelsier raised an eyebrow. "Why, then?"
Vin shrugged, and she sounded perfectly honest when she spoke. "Because
I want to see what happens."
Having a keep in Luthadel qualified a house for high noble status. However,
having a keep didn't mean that one had to live in it, especially not all of the
time. Many families also maintained a residence in one of Luthadel's outskirt
cities.
Less crowded, cleaner, and less strict in its observance of imperial laws,
Fellise was a rich town. Rather than containing imposing, buttressed keeps, it
was filled with lavish manors and villas. Trees even lined some of the streets;
most of them were aspens, whose bone-white bark was somehow resistant to
the discoloring of the ash.
Vin watched the mist-cloaked city through her window, the carriage
lantern extinguished at her request. Burning tin, she was able to study the
neatly organized and well-groomed streets. This was a section of Fellise she
had rarely seen; despite the town's opulence, its slums were remarkably
similar to the ones in every other city.
Kelsier watched the city through his own window, frowning.
"You disapprove of the waste," Vin guessed, her voice a whisper. The
sound would carry to Kelsier's enhanced ears. "You see the riches of this city
and think of the skaa who worked to create it."
"That's part of it," Kelsier said, his own voice barely a whisper. "There's
more, though. Considering the amount of money spent on it, this city should
be beautiful."
Vin cocked her head. "It is."
Kelsier shook his head. "The homes are still stained black. The soil is still
arid and lifeless. The trees still grow leaves of brown."
"Of course they're brown. What else would they be?"
"Green," Kelsier said. "Everything should be green."
Green? Vin thought. What a strange thought. She tried to imagine trees
with green leaves, but the image seemed silly. Kelsier certainly had his quirks
—though, anyone who had spent so long at the Pits of Hathsin was bound to
be left a bit strange.
He turned back toward her. "Before I forget, there are a couple more things
you should know about Allomancy."
Vin nodded.
"First," Kelsier said, "remember to burn away any unused metals you have
inside of you at the end of the night. Some of the metals we use can be
poisonous if digested; it's best not to sleep with them in your stomach."
"All right," Vin said.
"Also," Kelsier said, "never try to burn a metal that isn't one of the ten. I
warned you that impure metals and alloys can make you sick. Well, if you try
to burn a metal that isn't Allomantically sound at all, it could be deadly."
Vin nodded solemnly. Good to know, she thought.
"Ah," Kelsier said, turning back toward the window. "Here we are: the
newly purchased Manor Renoux. You should probably take off your cloak—
the people here are loyal to us, but it always pays to be careful."
Vin agreed completely. She pulled off the cloak, letting Kelsier tuck it in
his pack. Then she peeked out the carriage window, peering through the mists
at the approaching manor. The grounds had a low stone wall and an iron gate;
a pair of guards opened the way as Sazed identified himself.
The roadway inside was lined with aspens, and atop the hill ahead Vin
could see a large manor house, phantom light spilling from its windows.
Sazed pulled the carriage up before the manor, then handed the reins to a
servant and climbed down. "Welcome to Manor Renoux, Mistress Vin," he
said, opening the door and gesturing to help her down.
Vin eyed his hand, but didn't take it, instead scrambling down on her own.
The Terrisman didn't seem offended by her refusal.
The steps to the manor house were lit by a double line of lantern poles. As
Kelsier hopped from the carriage, Vin could see a group of men gathering at
the top of the white marble stairs. Kelsier climbed the steps with a springy
stride; Vin followed behind, noticing how clean the steps were. They would
have to be scrubbed regularly to keep the ash from staining them. Did the
skaa who maintained the building know that their master was an imposter?
How was Kelsier's "benevolent" plan to overthrow the Final Empire helping
the common people who cleaned these steps?
Thin and aging, "Lord Renoux" wore a rich suit and a pair of aristocratic
spectacles. A sparse, gray mustache colored his lip, and—despite his age—he
didn't carry a cane for support. He nodded respectfully to Kelsier, but
maintained a dignified air. Immediately, Vin was struck by one obvious fact:
This man knows what he is doing.
Camon had been skilled at impersonating noblemen, but his self-
importance had always struck Vin as a bit juvenile. While there were
noblemen like Camon, the more impressive ones were like this Lord Renoux:
calm, and self-confident. Men whose nobility was in their bearing rather than
their ability to speak scornfully to those around them. Vin had to resist
cringing when the impostor's eyes fell on her—he seemed far too much a
nobleman, and she had been trained to reflexively avoid their attention.
"The manor is looking much better," Kelsier said, shaking hands with
Renoux.
"Yes, I'm impressed with its progress," Renoux said. "My cleaning crews
are quite proficient—give us a bit more time, and the manor will be so grand
that I wouldn't hesitate to host the Lord Ruler himself."
Kelsier chuckled. "Wouldn't that be an odd dinner party." He stepped
back, gesturing toward Vin. "This is the young lady I spoke of."
Renoux studied her, and Vin glanced away. She didn't like it when people
looked at her that way—it made her wonder how they were going to try and
use her.
"We will need to speak further of this, Kelsier," Renoux said, nodding
toward the mansion's entrance. "The hour is late, but . . ."
Kelsier stepped into the building. "Late? Why, it's barely midnight. Have
your people prepare some food—Lady Vin and I missed dinner."
A missed meal was nothing new to Vin. However, Renoux immediately
waved to some servants, and they leapt into motion. Renoux walked into the
building, and Vin followed. She paused in the entryway, however, Sazed
waiting patiently behind her.
Kelsier paused, turning when he noticed that she wasn't following. "Vin?"
"It's so . . . clean," Vin said, unable to think of any other description. On
jobs, she'd occasionally seen the homes of noblemen. However, those times
had happened at night, in dark gloom. She was unprepared for the well-lit
sight before her.
The white marble floors of Manor Renoux seemed to glow, reflecting the
light of a dozen lanterns. Everything was . . . pristine. The walls were white
except where they had been wash-painted with traditional animal murals. A
brilliant chandelier sparkled above a double staircase, and the room's other
decorations—crystal sculptures, vases set with bundles of aspen branches—
glistened, unmarred by soot, smudge, or fingerprint.
Kelsier chuckled. "Well, her reaction speaks highly of your efforts," he
said to Lord Renoux.
Vin allowed herself to be led into the building. The group turned right,
entering a room whose whites were muted slightly by the addition of maroon
furnishings and drapes.
Renoux paused. "Perhaps the lady could enjoy some refreshment here for a
moment," he said to Kelsier. "There are some matters of a . . . delicate nature
that I would discuss with you."
Kelsier shrugged. "Fine with me," he said, following Renoux toward
another doorway. "Saze, why don't you keep Vin company while Lord
Renoux and I talk?"
"Of course, Master Kelsier."
Kelsier smiled, eyeing Vin, and somehow she knew that he was leaving
Sazed behind to keep her from eavesdropping.
She shot the departing men an annoyed look. What was that you said about
"trust," Kelsier? However, she was even more annoyed at herself for getting
unsettled. Why should she care if Kelsier excluded her? She had spent her
entire life being ignored and dismissed. It had never bothered her before
when other crewleaders left her out of their planning sessions.
Vin took a seat in one of the stiffly upholstered maroon chairs, tucking her
feet up beneath her. She knew what the problem was. Kelsier had been
showing her too much respect, making her feel too important. She was
beginning to think that she deserved to be part of his secret confidences.
Reen's laughter in the back of her mind discredited those thoughts, and she
sat, annoyed at both herself and Kelsier, feeling ashamed, but not exactly
certain why.
Renoux's servants brought her a platter of fruits and breads. They set up a
small stand beside her chair, and even gave her a crystalline cup filled with a
glistening red liquid. She couldn't tell if it was wine or juice, and she didn't
intend to find out. She did, however, pick at the food—her instincts wouldn't
let her pass up a free meal, even if it was prepared by unfamiliar hands.
Sazed walked over and took a position standing just behind her chair to the
right. He waited with a stiff posture, hands clasped in front of him, eyes
forward. The stance was obviously intended to be respectful, but his looming
posture didn't help her mood any.
Vin tried to focus on her surroundings, but this only reminded her of how
rich the furnishings were. She was uncomfortable amid such finery; she felt
as if she stood out like a black spot on a clean rug. She didn't eat the breads
for fear that she would drop crumbs on the floor, and she worried at her feet
and legs—which had been stained with ash while walking through the
countryside—marring the furnishings.
All of this cleanliness came at some skaa's expense, Vin thought. Why
should I worry about disturbing it? However, she had trouble feeling
outraged, for she knew this was only a front. "Lord Renoux" had to maintain
a certain level of finery. It would be suspicious to do otherwise.
In addition, something else kept her from resenting the waste. The servants
were happy. They went about their duties with a businesslike
professionalism, no sense of drudgery about their efforts. She heard laughter
in the outer hallway. These were not mistreated skaa; whether they had been
included in Kelsier's plans or not was irrelevant.
So, Vin sat and forced herself to eat fruit, yawning occasionally. It was
turning out to be a long night indeed. The servants eventually left her alone,
though Sazed continued to loom just behind her.
I can't eat like this, she finally thought with frustration. "Could you not
stand over my shoulder like that?"
Sazed nodded. He took two steps forward so that he stood next to her
chair, rather than behind it. He adopted the same stiff posture, looming above
her just as he had before.
Vin frowned in annoyance, then noticed the smile on Sazed's lips. He
glanced down at her, eyes twinkling at his joke, then walked over and seated
himself in the chair beside hers.
"I've never known a Terrisman with a sense of humor before," Vin said
dryly.
Sazed raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that you hadn't
known any Terrismen at all, Mistress Vin."
Vin paused. "Well, I've never heard of one with a sense of humor. You're
supposed to be completely rigid and formal."
"We're just subtle, Mistress," Sazed said. Though he sat with a stiff
posture, there was still something . . . relaxed about him. It was as if he were
as comfortable when sitting properly as other people were when lounging.
That's how they're supposed to be. The perfect serving men, completely
loyal to the Final Empire.
"Is something troubling you, Mistress Vin?" Sazed asked as she studied
him.
How much does he know? Perhaps he doesn't even realize that Renoux is
an imposter. "I was just wondering how you . . . came here," she finally said.
"You mean, how did a Terrisman steward end up as part of a rebellion
intending to overthrow the Final Empire?" Sazed asked in his soft voice.
Vin flushed. Apparently he was well versed indeed.
"That is an intriguing question, Mistress," Sazed said. "Certainly, my
situation is not common. I would say that I arrived at it because of belief."
"Belief?"
"Yes," Sazed said. "Tell me, Mistress. What is it that you believe?"
Vin frowned. "What kind of question is that?"
"The most important kind, I think."
Vin sat for a moment, but he obviously expected a reply, so she finally
shrugged. "I don't know."
"People often say that," Sazed said, "but I find that it is rarely true. Do you
believe in the Final Empire?"
"I believe that it is strong," Vin said.
"Immortal?"
Vin shrugged. "It has been so far."
"And the Lord Ruler? Is he the Ascended Avatar of God? Do you believe
that he, as the Ministry teaches, is a Sliver of Infinity?"
"I . . . I've never thought about it before."
"Perhaps you should," Sazed said. "If, upon examination, you find that the