"But?"
"One of the three followed her. I couldn't get to it—maybe the other two
Inquisitors were simply trying to keep me busy so that their companion could
find her."
"Three Inquisitors," Dockson said, accepting a small cup of brandy from
one of the apprentices. He downed it.
"We must have made too much noise going in," Kelsier said. "Either that,
or they were already there for some reason. And we still don't know what's
in that room!"
The kitchen fell silent. The rain outside picked up again, assaulting the
building with a reproachful fury.
"So . . ." Ham said, "what of Vin?"
Kelsier glanced at Dockson, and saw pessimism in his eyes. Kelsier had
barely escaped, and he had years of training. If Vin was still in Kredik Shaw .
. .
Kelsier felt a sharp, twisting pain in his chest. You let her die too. First
Mare, then Vin. How many more will you lead to slaughter before this is
through?
"She might be hiding somewhere in the city," Kelsier said. "Afraid to
come to the shop because the Inquisitors are looking for her. Or . . . perhaps
for some reason she went back to Fellise."
Maybe she's out there somewhere, dying alone in the rain.
"Ham," Kelsier said, "you and I are heading back to the palace. Dox, take
Lestibournes and visit other thieving crews. Maybe one of their scouts saw
something. Clubs, send an apprentice to Renoux's mansion to see if she went
there."
The solemn group started to move, but Kelsier didn't need to state the
obvious. He and Ham wouldn't be able to get close to Kredik Shaw without
running afoul of guard patrols. Even if Vin was hiding in the city somewhere,
the Inquisitors would probably find her first. They would have—
Kelsier froze, his sudden jerk causing the others to pause. He'd heard
something.
Hurried footsteps sounded as Lestibournes rushed down the stairs and into
the room, his lanky form wet with rain. "Someone's coming! Out the night
with the calling!"
"Vin?" Ham asked hopefully.
Lestibournes shook his head. "Big man. Robe."
This is it, then. I've brought death to the crew—I've led the Inquisitors
right to them.
Ham stood, picking up a wooden stave. Dockson pulled out a pair of
daggers, and Clubs's six apprentices moved to the back of the room, eyes
wide with fright.
Kelsier flared his metals.
The back door to the kitchen slammed open. A tall, dark form in wet robes
stood in the rain. And he carried a cloth-wrapped figure in his arms.
"Sazed!" Kelsier said.
"She is badly wounded," Sazed said, stepping quickly into the room, his
fine robes streaming with rainwater. "Master Hammond, I require some
pewter. Her supply is exhausted, I think."
Ham rushed forward as Sazed set Vin on the kitchen table. Her skin was
clammy and pale, her thin frame soaked and wet.
She's so small, Kelsier thought. Barely more than a child. How could I
have thought to take her with me?
She bore a massive, bloody wound in her side. Sazed set something aside
—a large book he'd been carrying in his arms beneath Vin—and accepted a
vial from Hammond, then bent down and poured the liquid down the
unconscious girl's throat. The room fell silent, the sound of pounding rain
coming through the still open door.
Vin's face flushed slightly with color, and her breathing seemed to steady.
To Kelsier's Allomantic bronze senses, she began to pulse softly with a
rhythm not unlike a second heartbeat.
"Ah, good," Sazed said, undoing Vin's makeshift bandage. "I feared that
her body was too unfamiliar with Allomancy to burn metals unconsciously.
There is hope for her, I think. Master Cladent, I shall require a pot of boiled
water, some bandages, and the medical bag from my rooms. Quickly, now!"
Clubs nodded, waving for his apprentices to do as instructed. Kelsier
cringed as he watched Sazed's work. The wound was bad—worse than any
he himself had survived. The cut went deeply into her gut; it was the type of
wound that killed slowly, but consistently.
Vin, however, was no ordinary person—pewter would keep an Allomancer
alive long after their body should have given out. In addition, Sazed was no
ordinary healer. Religious rites were not the only things that Keepers stored
in their uncanny memories; their metalminds contained vast wealths of
information on culture, philosophy, and science.
Clubs ushered his apprentices from the room as the surgery began. The
procedure took an alarming amount of time, Ham applying pressure to the
wound as Sazed slowly stitched Vin's insides back together. Finally, Sazed
closed the outer wound and applied a clean bandage, then asked Ham to
carefully carry the girl up to her bed.
Kelsier stood, watching Ham carry Vin's weak, limp form out of the
kitchen. Then, he turned to Sazed questioningly. Dockson sat in the corner,
the only other one still in the room.
Sazed shook his head gravely. "I do not know, Master Kelsier. She could
survive. We will need to keep her supplied with pewter—it will help her
body make new blood. Even still, I have seen many strong men die from
wounds smaller than this one."
Kelsier nodded.
"I arrived too late, I think," Sazed said. "When I found her gone from
Renoux's mansion, I came to Luthadel as quickly as I could. I used up an
entire metalmind to make the trip with haste. I was still too late. . . ."
"No, my friend," Kelsier said. "You've done well this night. Far better
than I."
Sazed sighed, then reached over and fingered the large book he'd set aside
before beginning the surgery. The tome was wet with rainwater and blood.
Kelsier regarded it, frowning. "What is that, anyway?"
"I don't know," Sazed said. "I found it at the palace, while I was searching
for the child. It is written in Khlenni."
Khlenni, the language of Khlennium—the ancient, pre-Ascension
homeland of the Lord Ruler. Kelsier perked up a bit. "Can you translate it?"
"Perhaps," Sazed said, suddenly sounding very tired. "But . . . not for a
time, I think. After this evening, I shall need to rest."
Kelsier nodded, calling for one of the apprentices to prepare Sazed a room.
The Terrisman nodded thankfully, then walked wearily up the stairs.
"He saved more than Vin's life tonight," Dockson said, approaching
quietly from behind. "What you did was stupid, even for you."
"I had to know, Dox," he said. "I had to go back. What if the atium really
is in there?"
"You said that it isn't."
"I said that," Kelsier said with a nod, "and I'm mostly sure. But what if
I'm wrong?"
"That's no excuse," Dockson said angrily. "Now Vin is dying and the Lord
Ruler is alerted to us. Wasn't it enough that you got Mare killed trying to get
into that room?"
Kelsier paused, but he was too drained to feel any anger. He sighed, sitting
down. "There's more, Dox."
Dockson frowned.
"I've avoided talking about the Lord Ruler to the others," Kelsier said,
"but . . . I'm worried. The plan is good, but I have this terrible, haunting
feeling that we'll never succeed as long as he's alive. We can take his money,
we can take his armies, we can trick him out of the city . . . but I still worry
that we won't be able to stop him."
Dockson frowned. "You're serious about this Eleventh Metal business,
then?"
Kelsier nodded. "I searched for two years to find a way to kill him. Men
have tried everything—he ignores normal wounds, and decapitation only
annoys him. A group of soldiers burned down his inn during one of the early
wars. The Lord Ruler walked out as barely more than a skeleton, then healed
in a matter of seconds.
"Only the stories of the Eleventh Metal offered any hope. But I can't make
it work! That's why I had to go back to the palace. The Lord Ruler's hiding
something in that room—I can feel it. I can't help thinking that if we knew
what it was, we'd be able to stop him."
"You didn't have to take Vin with you."
"She followed me," Kelsier said. "I worried that she'd try to get in on her
own if I left her. The girl has a headstrong streak, Dox—she hides it well, but
she's blasted stubborn when she wants to be."
Dockson sighed, then nodded quietly. "And we still don't know what's in
that room."
Kelsier eyed the book Sazed had set on the table. The rainwater had
marked it, but the tome was obviously designed to endure. It was strapped
tightly to prevent water from seeping in, and the cover was of well-cured
leather.
"No," Kelsier finally said. "We don't." But we do have that, whatever it is.
"Was it worth it, Kell?" Dockson asked. "Was this insane stunt really
worth nearly getting yourself—and the child—killed?"
"I don't know," Kelsier said honestly. He turned to Dockson, meeting his
friend's eyes. "Ask me once we know whether or not Vin will live."
THE END OF PART TWO
PART THREE
CHILDREN OF
A BLEEDING SUN
Many think that my journey started in Khlennium, that great city of wonder. They forget that I
was no king when my quest began. Far from it.
I think it would do men well to remember that this task was not begun by emperors, priests,
prophets, or generals. It didn't start in Khlennium or Kordel, nor did it come from the great
nations to the east or the fiery empire of the West.
It began in a small, unimportant town whose name would mean nothing to you. It began with
a youth, the son of a blacksmith, who was unremarkable in every way—except, perhaps, in his
ability to get into trouble.
It began with me.
16
WHEN VIN AWOKE, THE PAIN told her that Reen had beaten her again. What
had she done? Had she been too friendly to one of the other crewmembers?
Had she made a foolish comment, drawing the crewleader's ire? She was to
remain quiet, always quiet, staying away from the others, never calling
attention to herself. Otherwise he would beat her. She had to learn, he said.
She had to learn. . . .
But, her pain seemed too strong for that. It had been a long time since she
could remember hurting this much.
She coughed slightly, opening her eyes. She lay in a bed that was far too
comfortable, and a lanky teenage boy sat in a chair beside her bed.
Lestibournes, she thought. That's his name. I'm in Clubs's shop.
Lestibournes jumped to his feet. "You're awaking!"
She tried to speak, but just coughed again, and the boy hurriedly gave her a
cup of water. Vin sipped it thankfully, grimacing at the pain in her side. In
fact, her entire body felt like it had been pummeled soundly.
"Lestibournes," she finally croaked.
"Notting as the now," he said. "Kelsier wasing the hit with my name;
changed it to Spook."
"Spook?" Vin asked. "It fits. How long have I been asleep?"
"Two weeks," the boy said. "Wait here." He scrambled away, and she
could hear him calling out in the distance.
Two weeks? She sipped at the cup, trying to organize her muddled
memories. Reddish afternoon sunlight shone through the window, lighting
the room. She set the cup aside, checking her side, where she found a large
white bandage.
That's where the Inquisitor hit me, she thought. I should be dead.
Her side was bruised and discolored from where she'd hit the roof after
falling, and her body bore a dozen other nicks, bruises, and scrapes. All in all,
she felt absolutely terrible.
"Vin!" Dockson said, stepping into the room. "You're awake!"
"Barely," Vin said with a groan, lying back against her pillow.
Dockson chuckled, walking over and sitting on Lestibournes's stool. "How
much do you remember?"
"Most everything, I think," she said. "We fought our way into the palace,
but there were Inquisitors. They chased us, and Kelsier fought—" She
stopped, looking at Dockson. "Kelsier? Is he—"
"Kell's fine," Breeze said. "He came out of the incident in far better shape
than you did. He knows the palace fairly well, from the plans we made three
years ago, and he . . ."
Vin frowned as Dockson trailed off. "What?"
"He said the Inquisitors didn't seem very focused on killing him. They left
one to chase him, and sent two after you."
Why? Vin thought. Did they simply want to concentrate their energy on the
weakest enemy first? Or, is there another reason? She sat back thoughtfully,
working through the events of that night.
"Sazed," Vin she finally said. "He saved me. The Inquisitor was about to
kill me, but . . . Dox, what is he?"
"Sazed?" Dockson asked. "That's probably a question I should let him
answer."
"Is he here?"
Dockson shook his head. "He had to return to Fellise. Breeze and Kell are
out recruiting, and Ham left last week to inspect our army. He won't be back
for another month at least."
Vin nodded, feeling drowsy.
"Drink the rest of your water," Dockson suggested. "There's something in
it to help with the pain."
Vin downed the rest of the drink, then rolled over and let sleep take her
again.
Kelsier was there when she awoke. He sat on the stool by her bed, hands
clasped with his elbows on his knees, watching her by the faint light of a
lantern. He smiled when she opened her eyes. "Welcome back."
She immediately reached for the cup of water on the bed-stand. "How's the
job going?"
He shrugged. "The army is growing, and Renoux has begun to purchase
weapons and supplies. Your suggestion regarding the Ministry turned out to
be a good one—we found Theron's contact, and we've nearly negotiated a
deal that will let us place someone as a Ministry acolyte."
"Marsh?" Vin asked. "Will he do it himself?"
Kelsier nodded. "He's always had a . . . certain fascination with the
Ministry. If any skaa can pull off imitating an obligator, it will be Marsh."
Vin nodded, sipping her drink. There was something different about
Kelsier. It was subtle—a slight alteration in his air and attitude. Things had
changed during her sickness.
"Vin," Kelsier said hesitantly. "I owe you an apology. I nearly got you
killed."
Vin snorted quietly. "It's not your fault. I made you take me."
"You shouldn't have been able to make me," Kelsier said. "My original
decision to send you away was the right one. Please accept the apology."
Vin nodded quietly. "What do you need me to do now? The job has to go
forward, right?"
Kelsier smiled. "Indeed it does. As soon as you're up to it, I'd like you to
move back to Fellise. We created a cover story saying that Lady Valette has
taken sick, but rumors are starting to appear. The sooner you can be seen in
the flesh by visitors, the better."
"I can go tomorrow," Vin said.
Kelsier chuckled. "I doubt it, but you can go soon. For now, just rest." He
stood, moving to leave.
"Kelsier?" Vin asked, causing him to pause. He turned, looking at her.
Vin struggled to formulate what she wanted to say. "The palace . . . the
Inquisitors . . . We're not invincible, are we?" She flushed; it sounded stupid
when she said it that way.
Kelsier, however, just smiled. He seemed to understand what she meant.
"No, Vin," he said quietly. "We're far from it."
Vin watched the landscape pass outside her carriage window. The vehicle,
sent from Mansion Renoux, had supposedly taken Lady Valette for a ride
through Luthadel. In reality, it hadn't picked up Vin until it had stopped
briefly by Clubs's street. Now, however, her window shades were open,
showing her again to the world—assuming anyone cared.
The carriage made its way back toward Fellise. Kelsier had been right:
She'd had to rest three more days in Clubs's shop before feeling strong
enough to make the trip. In part, she'd waited simply because she had
dreaded struggling into a noblewoman's dresses with her bruised arms and
wounded side.
Still, it felt good to be up again. There had been something . . . wrong
about simply recovering in bed. Such a lengthy period of rest wouldn't have
been given to a regular thief; thieves either got back to work quickly or were
abandoned for dead. Those who couldn't bring in money for food couldn't be
allowed to take up space in the lair.
But, that isn't the only way people live, Vin thought. She was still
uncomfortable with that knowledge. It hadn't mattered to Kelsier and the
others that she drained their resources—they hadn't exploited her weakened
state, but had cared for her, each one spending time at her bedside. Most
notable among the vigilists had been the young Lestibournes. Vin didn't even
feel that she knew him very well, yet Kelsier said that the boy had spent
hours watching over her during her coma.
What did one make of a world where a crewleader agonized over his
people? In the underground, each person bore responsibility for what
happened to them—the weaker segment of a crew had to be allowed to die,
lest they keep everyone else from earning enough to survive. If a person got
captured by the Ministry, you left them to their fate and hoped that they
didn't betray too much. You didn't worry about your own guilt at putting
them in danger.
They're fools, Reen's voice whispered. This entire plan will end in disaster
—and your death will be your own fault for not leaving when you could.
Reen had left when he could. Perhaps he'd known that the Inquisitors
would eventually hunt her down for the powers she unwittingly possessed.
He always had known when to leave—it was no accident, she thought, that he
hadn't ended up slaughtered with the rest of Camon's crew.
And yet, she ignored Reen's promptings in her head, instead letting the
carriage pull her toward Fellise. It wasn't that she felt completely secure in
her place with Kelsier's crew—indeed, in a way, her place with these people
was making her even more apprehensive. What if they stopped needing her?
What if she became useless to them?
She had to prove to them that she could do what they needed her to. There
were functions to attend, a society to infiltrate. She had so much work to do;
she couldn't afford to spend any more of it sleeping.
In addition, she needed to return to her Allomantic practice sessions. It had
only taken a few short months for her to grow dependent upon her powers,
and she longed for the freedom of leaping through the mists, of Pulling and
Pushing her way through the skies. Kredik Shaw had taught her that she
wasn't invincible—but Kelsier's survival with barely a scratch proved that it
was possible to be much better than she was. Vin needed to practice, to grow
in strength, until she too could escape Inquisitors like Kelsier had.
The carriage turned a bend and rolled into Fellise. The familiar, pastoral
suburb made Vin smile to herself, and she leaned against the open carriage
window, feeling the breeze. With luck, some streetgoers would gossip that
Lady Valette had been seen riding through the city. She arrived at Mansion
Renoux a few short turns later. A footman opened the door, and Vin was
surprised to see Lord Renoux himself waiting outside the carriage to help her
down.
"My lord?" she said, giving him her hand. "Surely you have more
important things to attend to."
"Nonsense," he said. "A lord must be allowed time to dote upon his
favored niece. How was your ride?"
Does he ever break character? He didn't ask after the others in Luthadel,
or give any indication that he knew of her wound.
"It was refreshing, Uncle," she said as they walked up the steps to the
mansion doors. Vin was thankful for the pewter burning lightly in her
stomach to give strength to her still weak legs. Kelsier had warned against
using it too much, lest she grow dependent upon its power, but she saw little
alternative until she was healed.
"That is wonderful," Renoux said. "Perhaps, once you are feeling better,
we should take lunch together on the garden balcony. It has been warm lately,
despite the coming winter."
"That would be very pleasant," Vin said. Before, she'd found the
impostor's noble bearing intimidating. Yet, as she slipped into the persona of
Lady Valette, she experienced the same calmness as before. Vin the thief was
nothing to a man such as Renoux, but Valette the socialite was another
matter.
"Very good," Renoux said, pausing inside the entryway. "However, let us
attend to that on another day—for now, you would likely prefer to rest from
your journey."
"Actually, my lord, I'd like to visit Sazed. I have some matters I must
discuss with the steward."
"Ah," Renoux said. "You will find him in the library, working on one of
my projects."
"Thank you," Vin said.
Renoux nodded, then walked away, his dueling cane clicking against the
white marble floor. Vin frowned, trying to decide if he was completely sane.
Could someone really adopt a persona that wholly?
You do it, Vin reminded herself. When you become Lady Valette, you show
a completely different side of yourself.
She turned, flaring pewter to help her climb the northern set of stairs. She
let her flare lapse as she reached the top, returning to a normal burn. As
Kelsier said, it was dangerous to flare metals for too extended a period; an
Allomancer could quickly make their body dependent.
She took a few breaths—climbing the stairs had been difficult, even with
pewter—then walked down the corridor to the library. Sazed sat at a desk
beside a small coal stove on the far side of the small room, writing on a pad
of paper. He wore his standard steward's robes, and a pair of thin spectacles
sat at the end of his nose.
Vin paused in the doorway, regarding the man who had saved her life. Why
is he wearing spectacles? I've seen him read before without them. He seemed
completely absorbed by his work, periodically studying a large tome on the
desk, then turning to scribble notes on his pad.
"You're an Allomancer," Vin said quietly.
Sazed paused, then set down his pen and turned. "What makes you say
that, Mistress Vin?"
"You got to Luthadel too quickly."
"Lord Renoux keeps several swift messenger horses in his stables. I could
have taken one of those."
"You found me at the palace," Vin said.
"Kelsier told me of his plans, and I correctly assumed that you had
followed him. Locating you was a stroke of luck, one that nearly took me too
long to achieve."
Vin frowned. "You killed the Inquisitor."
"Killed?" Sazed asked. "No, Mistress. It takes far more power than I
possess to kill one of those monstrosities. I simply . . . distracted him."
Vin stood in the doorway for a moment longer, trying to figure out why
Sazed was being so ambiguous. "So, are you an Allomancer or not?"
He smiled, then he pulled a stool out from beside the desk. "Please, sit
down."
Vin did as requested, crossing the room and sitting on the stool, her back to
a massive bookshelf.
"What would you think if I told you that I wasn't an Allomancer?" Sazed
asked.
"I'd think that you were lying," Vin said.
"Have you known me to lie before?"
"The best liars are those who tell the truth most of the time."
Sazed smiled, regarding her through bespectacled eyes. "That is true, I
think. Still, what proof have you that I am an Allomancer?"
"You did things that couldn't have been done without Allomancy."
"Oh? A Mistborn for two months, and already you know all that is possible
in the world?"
Vin paused. Up until just recently, she hadn't even known much about
Allomancy. Perhaps there was more to the world than she had assumed.
There's always another secret. Kelsier's words.
"So," she said slowly, "what exactly is a 'Keeper'?"
Sazed smiled. "Now, that is a far more clever question, Mistress. Keepers
are . . . storehouses. We remember things, so that they can be used in the
future."
"Like religions," Vin said.
Sazed nodded. "Religious truths are my particular specialty."
"But, you remember other things too?"
Sazed nodded.
"Like what?"
"Well," Sazed said, closing the tome he had been studying. "Languages,
for instance."
Vin immediately recognized the glyph-covered cover. "The book I found
in the palace! How did you get it?"
"I happened across it while searching for you," the Terrisman said. "It is
written in a very old language, one that hasn't been spoken regularly in
nearly a millennium."
"But you speak it?" Vin asked.
Sazed nodded. "Enough to translate this, I think."
"And . . . how many languages do you know?"
"A hundred and seventy-two," Sazed said. "Most of them, such as Khlenni,
are no longer spoken. The Lord Ruler's unity movement of the fifth century
made certain of that. The language people now speak is actually a distant
dialect of Terris, the language of my homeland."
A hundred and seventy-two, Vin thought with amazement. "That . . .
sounds impossible. One man couldn't remember that much."
"Not one man," Sazed said. "One Keeper. What I do is similar to
Allomancy, but not the same. You draw power from metals. I . . . use them to
create memories."
"How?" Vin asked.
Sazed shook his head. "Perhaps another time, Mistress. My kind . . . we
prefer to maintain our secrets. The Lord Ruler hunts us with a remarkable,
confusing passion. We are far less threatening than Mistborn—yet, he ignores
Allomancers and seeks to destroy us, hating the Terris people because of us."
"Hating?" Vin asked. "You're treated better than regular skaa. You're
given positions of respect."
"That is true, Mistress," Sazed said. "But, in a way, the skaa are more free.
Most Terrismen are raised from birth to be stewards. There are very few of us
left, and the Lord Ruler's breeders control our reproduction. No Terrisman
steward is allowed to have a family, or even to bear children."
Vin snorted. "That seems like it would be hard to enforce."
Sazed paused, hand laying on the cover of the large book. "Why, not at
all," he said with a frown. "All Terrisman stewards are eunuchs, child. I
assumed you knew that."
Vin froze, then she blushed furiously. "I . . . I'm . . . sorry. . . ."
"Truly and surely, no apology is required. I was castrated soon after my
birth, as is standard for those who will be stewards. Often, I think I would
have easily traded my life for that of a common skaa. My people are less than
slaves . . . they're fabricated automatons, created by breeding programs,
trained from birth to fulfill the Lord Ruler's wishes."
Vin continued to blush, cursing her lack of tact. Why hadn't anyone told
her? Sazed, however, didn't seem offended—he never seemed to get angry
about anything.
Probably a function of his . . . condition, Vin thought. That's what the
breeders must want. Docile, even-tempered stewards.
"But," Vin said, frowning, "you're a rebel, Sazed. You're fighting the Lord
Ruler."
"I am something of a deviant," Sazed said. "And, my people are not as
completely subjugated as the Lord Ruler would believe, I think. We hide
Keepers beneath his very eyes, and some of us even gather the courage to
break our training."
He paused, then shook his head. "It is not an easy thing, however. We are a
weak people, Mistress. We are eager to do as we are told, quick to seek
subjugation. Even I, whom you dub a rebel, immediately sought out a
position of stewardship and subservience. We are not so brave as we would
wish, I think."
"You were brave enough to save me," Vin said.
Sazed smiled. "Ah, but there was an element of obedience in that too. I
promised Master Kelsier that I would see to your safety."
Ah, she thought. She had wondered if he'd had a reason for his actions.
After all, who would risk their life simply to save Vin? She sat for a moment
in thought, and Sazed turned back to his book. Finally, she spoke again,
drawing the Terrisman's attention. "Sazed?"
"Yes, Mistress?"
"Who betrayed Kelsier three years ago?"
Sazed paused, then set down his fountain pen. "The facts are unclear,
Mistress. Most of the crew assumes it was Mare, I think."
"Mare?" Vin asked. "Kelsier's wife?"
Sazed nodded. "Apparently, she was one of the only people who could
have done it. In addition, the Lord Ruler himself implicated her."
"But, wasn't she sent to the Pits too?"
"She died there," Sazed said. "Master Kelsier is reticent about the Pits, but
I sense that the scars he bears from that horrid place go much deeper than the
ones you see on his arms. I don't think he ever knew if she was the traitor or
not."
"My brother said that anyone would betray you, if they had the right
chance and a good enough motive."
Sazed frowned. "Even if such a thing were true, I would not want to live
believing it."
It seems better than what happened to Kelsier: being turned over to the
Lord Ruler by one you thought you loved.
"Kelsier is different lately," Vin said. "He seems more reserved. Is that
because he feels guilty for what happened to me?"
"I suspect that is part of it," Sazed said. "However, he is also coming to
realize that there is a large difference between heading a small crew of
thieves and organizing a large rebellion. He can't take the risks he once did.
The process is changing him for the better, I think."
Vin wasn't so certain. However, she remained silent, realizing with
frustration how tired she was. Even sitting on a stool seemed strenuous to her
now.
"Go and sleep, Mistress," Sazed said, picking up his pen and relocating his
place in the tome with his finger. "You survived something that probably
should have killed you. Give your body the thanks it deserves; let it rest."
Vin nodded tiredly, then climbed to her feet and left him scribbling quietly
in the afternoon light.
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I'd remained there, in that lazy village of my
birth. I'd have become a smith, like my father. Perhaps I'd have a family, sons of my own.
Perhaps someone else would have come to carry this terrible burden. Someone who could
bear it far better than I. Someone who deserved to be a hero.
17
BEFORE COMING TO MANSION RENOUX, Vin had never seen a cultivated
garden. On burglaries or scouting missions, she had occasionally seen
ornamental plants, but she'd never given them much heed—they, like many
noble interests, had seemed frivolous to her.
She hadn't realized how beautiful the plants could be when arranged
carefully. Mansion Renoux's garden balcony was a thin, oval structure that
overlooked the grounds below. The gardens weren't large—they required too
much water and attention to form more than a thin perimeter around the back
of the building.
Still, they were marvelous. Instead of mundane browns and whites, the
cultivated plants were of deeper, more vibrant colors—shades of red, orange,
and yellow, with the colors concentrated in their leaves. The groundskeepers
had planted them to make intricate, beautiful patterns. Closer to the balcony,
exotic trees with colorful yellow leaves gave shade and protected from
ashfalls. It was a very mild winter, and most of the trees still held their leaves.
The air felt cool, and the rustling of branches in the wind was soothing.
Almost soothing enough, in fact, to make Vin forget how annoyed she was.
"Would you like more tea, child?" Lord Renoux asked. He didn't wait for
an answer; he simply waved for a servant to rush forward and refill her cup.
Vin sat on a plush cushion, her wicker chair designed for comfort. During
the last four weeks, her every whim and desire had been met. Servants
cleaned up after her, primped her, fed her, and even helped bathe her. Renoux
saw that anything she asked for was given her, and she certainly wasn't
expected to do anything strenuous, dangerous, or even slightly inconvenient.
In other words, her life was maddeningly boring. Before, her time at
Mansion Renoux had been monopolized by Sazed's lessons and Kelsier's
training. She'd slept during the days, having only minimal contact with the
mansion staff.
Now, however, Allomancy—at least, the nighttime jumping kind—was
forbidden her. Her wound was only partially healed, and too much motion
reopened it. Sazed still gave her occasional lessons, but his time was
dominated by translating the book. He spent long hours in the library, poring
over its pages with an uncharacteristically excited air.
He's found a new bit of lore, Vin thought. To a Keeper, that's probably as
intoxicating as streetspice.
She sipped at her tea with repressed petulance, eyeing the nearby servants.
They seemed like scavenger birds, roosting and waiting for any opportunity
to make Vin as comfortable—and as frustrated—as possible.
Renoux wasn't much help either. His idea of "taking lunch" with Vin was
to sit and attend to his own duties—making notes on ledgers or dictating
letters—while eating. Her attendance seemed important to him, but he rarely
paid much attention to her other than to ask how her day had been.
Yet, she forced herself to act the part of a prim noblewoman. Lord Renoux
had hired some new servants that didn't know about the job—not house staff,
but gardeners and workmen. Kelsier and Renoux had worried that the other
houses would grow suspicious if they couldn't get at least a few servant-spies
onto the Renoux grounds. Kelsier didn't see it as a danger to the job, but it
did mean that Vin had to maintain her persona whenever possible.
I can't believe that people live like this, Vin thought as some servants
began clearing away the meal. How can noblewomen fill their days with so
much nothing? No wonder everyone's eager to attend those balls!
"Is your respite pleasant, dear?" Renoux asked, pouring over another
ledger.
"Yes, Uncle," Vin said through tight lips. "Quite."
"You should be up to a shopping trip soon," Renoux said, looking up at
her. "Perhaps you would like to visit Kenton Street? Get some new earrings
to replace that pedestrian stud you wear?"
Vin reached a hand to her ear, where her mother's earring still sat. "No,"
she said. "I'll keep this."
Renoux frowned, but said no more, for a servant approached and drew his
attention. "My lord," the servant said to Renoux. "A carriage just arrived
from Luthadel."
Vin perked up. That was the servants' way of saying that a member of the
crew had arrived.
"Ah, very good," Renoux said. "Show them up, Tawnson."
"Yes, my lord."
A few minutes later, Kelsier, Breeze, Yeden, and Dockson walked out onto
the balcony. Renoux discreetly waved to the servants, who closed the glass
balcony doors and left the crew in privacy. Several men took up position just
inside, watching to make certain that the wrong people didn't have an
opportunity to eavesdrop.
"Are we interrupting your meal?" Dockson asked.
"No!" Vin said quickly, cutting off Lord Renoux's reply. "Sit, please."
Kelsier strolled over to the balcony's ledge, looking out over the garden
and grounds. "Nice view you have here."
"Kelsier, is that wise?" Renoux asked. "Some of the gardeners are men for
whom I cannot vouch."
Kelsier chuckled. "If they can recognize me from this distance, they
deserve more than the Great Houses are paying them." However, he did leave
the balcony edge, walking over to the table and spinning a chair, then sitting
down on it the wrong way. Over the last few weeks, he had mostly returned
to his old, familiar self. Yet, there were still changes. He held meetings more
often, discussed more of his plans with the crew. He also still seemed
different, more . . . thoughtful.
Sazed was right, Vin thought. Our attack on the palace might have been
near-deadly for me, but it has changed Kelsier for the better.
"We thought we'd have our meeting here this week," Dockson said, "since
you two rarely get to participate."
"That was most thoughtful of you, Master Dockson," Lord Renoux said.
"But your concern is unnecessary. We are doing just fine—"
"No," Vin interrupted. "No, we aren't. Some of us need information.
What's happening with the crew? How is the recruitment going?"
Renoux eyed her with dissatisfaction. Vin, however, ignored him. He's not
really a lord, she told herself. He's just another crewmember. My opinion
counts as much as his! Now that the servants are gone, I can speak how I
want.
Kelsier chuckled. "Well, captivity's made her a bit more outspoken, if
nothing else."
"I don't have anything to do," Vin said. "It's driving me insane."
Breeze set his cup of wine on the table. "Some would find your state quite
enviable, Vin."
"Then they must already be insane."
"Oh, they're mostly noblemen," Kelsier said. "So, yes, they're quite mad."
"The job," Vin reminded. "What's happening?"
"Recruitment is still too slow," Dockson said. "But we're improving."
"We may have to sacrifice further security for numbers, Kelsier," Yeden
said.
That's a change too, she thought, impressed as she noted Yeden's civility.
He had taken to wearing nicer clothing—not quite a full gentlemen's suit like
Dockson or Breeze, but at least a well-cut jacket and trousers, with a
buttoning shirt beneath, all kept clean of soot.
"That can't be helped, Yeden," Kelsier said. "Fortunately, Ham's doing
well with the troops. I had a message from him just a few days ago. He's
impressed with their progress."
Breeze snorted. "Be warned—Hammond does tend to be a bit optimistic
about these kinds of things. If the army were made up of one-legged mutes,
he would praise their balance and their listening skills."
"I should like to see the army," Yeden said eagerly.
"Soon," Kelsier promised.
"We should be able to get Marsh into the Ministry within the month,"
Dockson said, nodding to Sazed as the Terrisman passed their sentries and
entered the balcony. "Hopefully, Marsh will be able to give some insight as
to how to deal with the Steel Inquisitors."
Vin shivered.
"They are a concern," Breeze agreed. "Considering what a couple of them
did to you two, I don't envy capturing the palace with them in there. They are
as dangerous as Mistborn."
"More," Vin said quietly.
"Can the army really fight them?" Yeden asked uncomfortably. "I mean,
they're supposed to be immortal, aren't they?"
"Marsh will find the answer," Kelsier promised.
Yeden paused, then nodded, accepting Kelsier's word.
Yes, changed indeed, Vin thought. It appeared that not even Yeden could
resist Kelsier's charisma for an extended period of time.
"In the meantime," Kelsier said, "I'm hoping to hear what Sazed has
learned about the Lord Ruler."
Sazed sat, laying his tome on the tabletop. "I will tell you what I can,
though this is not the book that I first assumed it to be. I thought that Mistress
Vin had recovered some ancient religious text—but it is of a far more
mundane nature."
"Mundane?" Dockson asked. "How?"
"It is a journal, Master Dockson," Sazed said. "A record that appears to
have been penned by the Lord Ruler himself—or, rather, the man who
became the Lord Ruler. Even Ministry teachings agree that before the
Ascension, he was a mortal man.
"This book tells of his life just prior to his final battle at the Well of
Ascension a thousand years ago. Mostly, it is a record of his travels—a
narration of the people he met, the places he visited, and the trials he faced
during his quest."
"Interesting," Breeze said, "but how does it help us?"
"I am not certain, Master Ladrian," Sazed said. "However, understanding
the real history behind the Ascension will be of use, I think. At the very least,
it will give us some insight to the Lord Ruler's mind."
Kelsier shrugged. "The Ministry thinks it's important—Vin said she found
it in some kind of shrine in the central palace complex."
"Which, of course," Breeze noted, "doesn't at all raise any questions