I think I've finally discovered why Rashek resents me so very much. He does not believe that an
outsider such as myself—a foreigner—could possibly be the Hero of Ages. He believes that I
have somehow tricked the philosophers, that I wear the piercings of the Hero unjustly.
According to Rashek, only a Terrisman of pure blood should have been chosen as the Hero.
Oddly, I find myself even more determined because of his hatred. I must prove to him that I can
perform this task.
27
IT WAS A SUBDUED GROUP that returned to Clubs's shop that evening. The
executions had stretched for hours. There had been no denunciations, no
explanations by the Ministry or the Lord Ruler—just execution, after
execution, after execution. Once the captives were gone, the Lord Ruler and
his obligators had ridden away, leaving a pile of corpses on the platform and
bloodied water running in the fountains.
As Kelsier's crew returned to the kitchen, Vin realized that her headache
no longer bothered her. Her pain now seemed . . . insignificant. The baywraps
remained on the table, thoughtfully covered by one of the house maids. No
one reached for them.
"All right," Kelsier said, taking his customary place leaning against the
cupboard. "Let's plan this out. How should we proceed?"
Dockson recovered a stack of papers from the side of the room as he
walked over to seat himself. "With the Garrison gone, our main focus
becomes the nobility."
"Indeed," Breeze said. "If we truly intend to seize the treasury with only a
few thousand soldiers, then we're certainly going to need something to
distract the palace guard and keep the nobility from taking the city away from
us. The house war, therefore, becomes of paramount importance."
Kelsier nodded. "My thoughts exactly."
"But, what happens when the house war is over?" Vin said. "Some houses
will come out on top, and then we'll have to deal with them."
Kelsier shook his head. "I don't intend for the house war to ever end, Vin
—or, at least, not for a long while. The Lord Ruler makes dictates, and the
Ministry polices his followers, but the nobility are the ones who actually
force the skaa to work. So, if we bring down enough noble houses, the
government may just collapse on its own. We can't fight the entire Final
Empire as a whole—it's too big. But, we might be able to shatter it, then
make the pieces fight each other."
"We need to put financial strain on the Great Houses," Dockson said,
flipping through his papers. "The aristocracy is primarily a financial
institution, and lack of funds will bring any house down."
"Breeze, we might need to use some of your aliases," Kelsier said. "So far,
I've really been the only one in the crew working on the house war—but if
we're going to make this city snap before the Garrison returns, we'll need to
step up our efforts."
Breeze sighed. "Very well. We'll just have to be very careful to make
certain no one accidentally recognizes me as someone I shouldn't be. I can't
go to parties or functions—but I can probably do solitary house visits."
"Same for you, Dox," Kelsier said.
"I figured as much," Dockson said.
"It will be dangerous for both of you," Kelsier said. "But speed will be
essential. Vin will remain our main spy—and we'll probably want her to start
spreading some bad information. Anything to make the nobility uncertain."
Ham nodded. "We should probably focus our attentions on the top, then."
"Indeed," Breeze said. "If we can make the most powerful houses look
vulnerable, then their enemies will be quick to strike. Only after the powerful
houses are gone will people realize that they were the ones really supporting
the economy."
The room fell quiet for a second, then several heads turned toward Vin.
"What?" she asked.
"They're talking about House Venture, Vin," Dockson said. "It's the most
powerful of the Great Houses."
Breeze nodded. "If Venture falls, the entire Final Empire would feel the
tremors."
Vin sat quietly for a moment. "They're not all bad people," she finally
said.
"Perhaps," Kelsier said. "But Lord Straff Venture certainly is, and his
family sits at the very head of the Final Empire. House Venture needs to go—
and you already have an in with one of its most important members."
I thought you wanted me to stay away from Elend, she thought with
annoyance.
"Just keep your ears open, child," Breeze said. "See if you can get the lad
to talk about his house's finances. Find us a bit of leverage, and we'll do the
rest."
Just like the games Elend hates so much. However, the executions were
still fresh in her mind. That sort of thing had to be stopped. Besides—even
Elend said he didn't like his father, or his house, very much. Maybe . . .
maybe she could find something. "I'll see what I can do," she said.
A knock came at the front door, answered by one of the apprentices. A few
moments later, Sazed—clad in a skaa cloak to hide his features—entered the
kitchen.
Kelsier checked the clock. "You're early, Saze."
"I try to make it a habit, Master Kelsier," the Terrisman replied.
Dockson raised an eyebrow. "That's a habit someone else could afford to
pick up."
Kelsier snorted. "If you're always on time, it implies that you never have
anything better you should be doing. Saze, how are the men?"
"As good as can be expected, Master Kelsier," Sazed replied. "But they
can't hide in the Renoux warehouses forever."
"I know," Kelsier said. "Dox, Ham, I'll need you to work on this problem.
There are two thousand men left from our army; I want you to get them into
Luthadel."
Dockson nodded thoughtfully. "We'll find a way."
"You want us to keep training them?" Ham asked.
Kelsier nodded.
"Then we'll have to hide them in squads," he said. "We don't have the
resources to train men individually. Say . . . a couple hundred men per team?
Hidden in slums near one another?"
"Make sure none of the teams know about the others," Dockson said. "Or
even that we still intend to strike at the palace. With that many men in town,
there's a chance some of them will eventually get taken by the obligators for
one reason or another."
Kelsier nodded. "Tell each group that it's the only one that didn't get
disbanded, and that it's being retained just in case it's needed at some point in
the future."
"You also said that recruitment needed to be continued," Ham said.
Kelsier nodded. "I'd like at least twice as many troops before we try and
pull this off."
"That's going to be tough," Ham said, "considering our army's failure."
"What failure?" Kelsier asked. "Tell them the truth—that our army
successfully neutralized the Garrison."
"Though most of them died doing it," Ham said.
"We can gloss over that part," Breeze said. "The people will be angry at
the executions—that should make them more willing to listen to us."
"Gathering more troops is going to be your main task over the next few
months, Ham," Kelsier said.
"That's not much time," Ham said. "But, I'll see what I can do."
"Good," Kelsier said. "Saze, did the note come?"
"It did, Master Kelsier," Sazed said, pulling a letter from beneath his cloak
and handing it to Kelsier.
"And what would that be?" Breeze asked curiously.
"A message from Marsh," Kelsier said, opening the letter and scanning its
contents. "He's in the city, and he has news."
"What news?" Ham asked.
"He doesn't say," Kelsier said, grabbing a baywrap. "But he gave
instructions on where to meet him tonight." He walked over, picking up a
regular skaa cloak. "I'm going to go scout the location before it gets dark.
Coming, Vin?"
She nodded, standing.
"The rest of you keep working on the plan," Kelsier said. "In two months'
time, I want this city to be so tense that when it finally breaks, even the Lord
Ruler won't be able to hold it together."
"There's something you're not telling us, isn't there?" Vin said, looking away
from the window, turning toward Kelsier. "A part of the plan."
Kelsier glanced over at her in the darkness. Marsh's chosen meeting place
was an abandoned building within the Twists, one of the most impoverished
skaa slums. Kelsier had located a second abandoned building across from the
one they would meet in, and he and Vin waited on the top floor, watching the
street for signs of Marsh.
"Why do you ask me that?" Kelsier finally said.
"Because of the Lord Ruler," Vin said, picking at the rotting wood of her
windowsill. "I felt his power today. I don't think the others could sense it, not
like a Mistborn can. But I know you must have." She looked up again,
meeting Kelsier's eyes. "You're still planning to get him out of the city
before we try to take the palace, right?"
"Don't worry about the Lord Ruler," Kelsier said. "The Eleventh Metal
will take care of him."
Vin frowned. Outside, the sun was setting in a fiery blaze of frustration.
The mists would come soon, and supposedly Marsh would arrive a short time
later.
The Eleventh Metal, she thought, remembering the skepticism with which
the other crewmembers regarded it. "Is it real?" Vin asked.
"The Eleventh Metal? Of course it is—I showed it to you, remember?"
"That's not what I mean," she said. "Are the legends real? Are you lying?"
Kelsier turned toward her, frowning slightly. Then he smirked. "You're a
very blunt girl, Vin."
"I know."
Kelsier's smile deepened. "The answer is no. I'm not lying. The legends
are real, though it took some time for me to find them."
"And that bit of metal you showed us really is the Eleventh Metal?"
"I think so," Kelsier said.
"But you don't know how to use it."
Kelsier paused, then shook his head. "No. I don't."
"That's not very comforting."
Kelsier shrugged, turning to look out the window. "Even if I don't discover
the secret in time, I doubt the Lord Ruler will be as big a problem as you
think. He's a powerful Allomancer, but he doesn't know everything—if he
did, we'd be dead right now. He's not omnipotent, either—if he were, he
wouldn't have needed to execute all of those skaa to try and frighten the city
into submission.
"I don't know what he is—but I think he's more like a man than he is a
god. The words in that logbook . . . they're the words of a regular person. His
real power comes from his armies and his wealth. If we remove them, he
won't be able to do anything to stop his empire from collapsing."
Vin frowned. "He might not be a god, but . . . he's something, Kelsier.
Something different. Today, when he was in the square, I could feel his touch
on my emotions even when I was burning copper."
"That's not possible, Vin," Kelsier said with a shake of his head. "If it
were, Inquisitors would be able to sense Allomancy even when there was a
Smoker nearby. If that were the case, don't you think they'd hunt down all of
the skaa Mistings and kill them?"
Vin shrugged.
"You know the Lord Ruler is strong," Kelsier said, "and you feel like you
should still be able to sense him. So you do."
Maybe he's right, she thought, picking off another bit of the windowsill.
He's been an Allomancer for far longer than I have, after all.
But . . . I felt something, didn't I? And the Inquisitor that nearly killed me
—somehow, he found me in the darkness and rain. He must have sensed
something.
She let the matter drop, however. "The Eleventh Metal. Couldn't we just
try it and see what it does?"
"It's not that simple," Kelsier said. "You remember how I told you never
to burn a metal that wasn't one of the ten?"
Vin nodded.
"Burning another metal can be deadly," Kelsier said. "Even getting the
wrong mixture in an alloy metal can make you sick. If I'm wrong about the
Eleventh Metal . . ."
"It will kill you," Vin said quietly.
Kelsier nodded.
So, you're not quite as certain as you pretend, she decided. Otherwise,
you'd have tried it by now.
"That's what you want to find in the logbook," Vin said. "A clue about
how to use the Eleventh Metal."
Kelsier nodded. "I'm afraid we weren't very lucky in that respect. So far,
the logbook hasn't even mentioned Allomancy."
"Though it does talk about Feruchemy," Vin said.
Kelsier eyed her as he stood by his window, one shoulder leaning against
the wall. "So Sazed told you about that?"
Vin glanced down. "I . . . kind of forced him to."
Kelsier chuckled. "I wonder what I've unleashed upon the world by
teaching you Allomancy. Of course, my trainer said the same thing about
me."
"He was right to worry."
"Of course he was."
Vin smiled. Outside, the sunlight was nearly gone, and diaphanous patches
of mist were beginning to form in the air. They hung like ghosts, slowly
growing larger, extending their influence as night approached.
"Sazed didn't have time to tell me much about Feruchemy," Vin said
carefully. "What kind of things can it do?" She waited in trepidation,
assuming that Kelsier would see through her lie.
"Feruchemy is completely internal," Kelsier said in an offhand voice. "It
can provide some of the same things we get from pewter and tin—strength,
endurance, eyesight—but each attribute has to be stored separately. It can
enhance a lot of other things too—things that Allomancy can't do. Memory,
physical speed, clarity of thought . . . even some strange things, like physical
weight or physical age, can be altered by Feruchemy."
"So, it's more powerful than Allomancy?" Vin said.
Kelsier shrugged. "Feruchemy doesn't have any external powers—it can't
Push and Pull emotions, nor can it Steelpush or Ironpull. And, the biggest
limitation to Feruchemy is that you have to store up all of its abilities by
drawing them from your own body.
"Want to be twice as strong for a time? Well, you have to spend several
hours being weak to store up the strength. If you want to store up the ability
to heal quickly, you have to spend a great deal of time feeling sick. In
Allomancy, the metals themselves are our fuel—we can generally keep going
as long as we have enough metal to burn. In Feruchemy, the metals are just
storage devices—your own body is the real fuel."
"So, you just steal someone else's storage metals, right?" Vin said.
Kelsier shook his head. "Doesn't work—Feruchemists can only access
metal stores they themselves created."
"Oh."
Kelsier nodded. "So, no. I wouldn't say that Feruchemy is more powerful
than Allomancy. They both have advantages and limitations. For instance, an
Allomancer can only flare a metal so high, and so his maximum strength is
bounded. Feruchemists don't have that kind of limitation; if a Feruchemist
had enough strength stored up to be twice as strong as normal for an hour, he
could choose instead to be three times as strong for a shorter period of time—
or even four, five, or six times as strong for even shorter periods."
Vin frowned. "That sounds like a pretty big advantage."
"True," Kelsier said, reaching inside of his cloak and pulling out a vial
containing several beads of atium. "But we have this. It doesn't matter if a
Feruchemist is as strong as five men or as strong as fifty men—if I know
what he's going to do next, I'll beat him."
Vin nodded.
"Here," Kelsier said, unstoppering the vial and pulling out one of the
beads. He took out another vial, this one filled with the normal alcohol
solution, and dropped the bead in it. "Take one of these. You might need it."
"Tonight?" Vin asked, accepting the vial.
Kelsier nodded.
"But, it's just Marsh."
"It might be," he said. "Then again, maybe the obligators caught him and
forced him to write that letter. Maybe they're following him, or maybe
they've since captured him and have tortured him to find out about the
meeting. Marsh is in a very dangerous place—think about trying to do the
same thing you're doing at those balls, except exchange all the noblemen for
obligators and Inquisitors."
Vin shivered. "I guess you have a point," she said, tucking away the bead
of atium. "You know, something must be wrong with me—I barely even stop
to think how much this stuff is worth anymore."
Kelsier didn't respond immediately. "I have trouble forgetting how much
it's worth," he said quietly.
"I . . ." Vin trailed off, glancing down at his hands. He usually wore long-
sleeved shirts and gloves now; his reputation was making it dangerous for his
identifying scars to be visible in public. Vin knew they were there, however.
Like thousands of tiny white scratches, layered one over the other.
"Anyway," Kelsier said, "you're right about the logbook—I had hoped that
it would mention the Eleventh Metal. But, Allomancy isn't even mentioned
in reference to Feruchemy. The two powers are similar in many respects;
you'd think that he would compare them."
"Maybe he worried that someone would read the book, and didn't want to
give away that he was an Allomancer."
Kelsier nodded. "Maybe. It's also possible that he hadn't Snapped yet.
Whatever happened in those Terris Mountains changed him from hero to
tyrant; maybe it also awakened his powers. We won't know, I guess, until
Saze finishes his translation."
"Is he close?"
Kelsier nodded. "Just a bit left—the important bit, hopefully. I feel a little
frustrated with the text so far. The Lord Ruler hasn't even told us what he is
supposed to accomplish in those mountains! He claims that he's doing
something to protect the entire world, but that might just be his ego coming
through."
He didn't seem very egotistical in the text to me, Vin thought. Kind of the
opposite, actually.
"Regardless," Kelsier said, "we'll know more once the last few sections
are translated."
It was growing dark outside, and Vin had to turn up her tin to see properly.
The street outside her window grew visible, adopting the strange mixture of
shadow and luminance that was the result of tin-enhanced vision. She knew it
was dark, logically. Yet, she could still see. Not as she did in regular light—
everything was muted—but it was sight nonetheless.
Kelsier checked his pocket watch.
"How long?" Vin asked.
"Another half hour," Kelsier said. "Assuming he's on time—and I doubt
he will be. He is my brother, after all."
Vin nodded, shifting so that she leaned with arms crossed across the
broken windowsill. Though it was a very small thing, she felt a comfort in
having the atium Kelsier had given her.
She paused. Thinking of atium reminded her of something important.
Something she'd been bothered by on several occasions. "You never taught
me the ninth metal!" she accused, turning.
Kelsier shrugged. "I told you that it wasn't very important."
"Still. What is it? Some alloy of atium, I assume?"
Kelsier shook his head. "No, the last two metals don't follow the same
pattern as the basic eight. The ninth metal is gold."
"Gold?" Vin asked. "That's it? I could have tried it a long time ago on my
own!"
Kelsier chuckled. "Assuming you wanted to. Burning gold is a somewhat. .
. . uncomfortable experience."
Vin narrowed her eyes, then turned to look back out the window. We'll
see, she thought.
"You're going to try it anyway, aren't you?" Kelsier said, smiling.
Vin didn't respond.
Kelsier sighed, reaching into his sash and pulling out a golden boxing and
a file. "You should probably get one of these," he said, holding up the file.
"However, if you collect a metal yourself, burn just a tiny bit first to make
certain that it's pure or alloyed correctly."
"If it isn't?" Vin asked.
"You'll know," Kelsier promised, beginning to file away at the coin.
"Remember that headache you had from pewter dragging?"
"Yes?"
"Bad metal is worse," Kelsier said. "Far worse. Buy your metals when you
can—in every city, you'll find a small group of merchants who provide
powdered metals to Allomancers. Those merchants have a vested interest in
making certain that all of their metals are pure—a grumpy Mistborn with a
headache isn't exactly the kind of slighted customer one wants to deal with."
Kelsier finished filing, then collected a few flakes of gold on a small square
of cloth. He stuck one on his finger, then swallowed it.
"This is good," he said, handing her the cloth. "Go ahead—just remember,
burning the ninth metal is a strange experience."
Vin nodded, suddenly feeling a bit apprehensive. You'll never know if you
don't try it for yourself, she thought, then dumped the dustlike flakes into her
mouth. She washed them down with a bit of water from her flask.
A new metal reserve appeared within her—unfamiliar and different from
the nine she knew. She looked up at Kelsier, took a breath, and burned gold.
She was in two places at once. She could see herself, and she could see
herself.
One of her was a strange woman, changed and transformed from the girl
she had always been. That girl had been careful and cautious—a girl who
would never burn an unfamiliar metal based solely on the word of one man.
This woman was foolish; she had forgotten many of the things that had let
her survive so long. She drank from cups prepared by others. She fraternized
with strangers. She didn't keep track of the people around her. She was still
far more careful than most people, but she had lost so much.
The other her was something she had always secretly loathed. A child,
really. Thin to the point of scrawniness, she was lonely, hateful, and
untrusting. She loved no one, and no one loved her. She always told herself,
quietly, that she didn't care. Was there something worth living for? There had
to be. Life couldn't be as pathetic as it seemed. Yet, it had to be. There wasn't
anything else.
Vin was both. She stood in two places, moving both bodies, being both girl
and woman. She reached out with hesitant, uncertain hands—one each—and
touched herself on the faces, one each.
Vin gasped, and it was gone. She felt a sudden rush of emotions, a sense of
worthlessness and confusion. There were no chairs in the room, so she simply
squatted to the ground, sitting with her back to the wall, knees pulled up,
arms wrapped around them.
Kelsier walked over, squatting down to lay a hand on her shoulder. "It's all
right."
"What was that?" she whispered.
"Gold and atium are complements, like the other metal pairs," Kelsier said.
"Atium lets you see, marginally, into the future. Gold works in a similar way,
but it lets you see into the past. Or, at least, it gives you a glimpse of another
version of yourself, had things been different in the past."
Vin shivered. The experience of being both people at once, of seeing
herself twice over, had been disturbingly eerie. Her body still shook, and her
mind didn't feel . . . right anymore.
Fortunately, the sensation seemed to be fading. "Remind me to listen to
you in the future," she said. "Or, at least, when you talk about Allomancy."
Kelsier chuckled. "I tried to put it out of your mind for as long as possible.
But, you had to try it sometime. You'll get over it."
Vin nodded. "It's . . . almost gone already. But, it wasn't just a vision,
Kelsier. It was real. I could touch her, the other me."
"It may feel that way," Kelsier said. "But she wasn't here—I couldn't see
her, at least. It's an hallucination."
"Atium visions aren't just hallucinations," Vin said. "The shadows really
do show what people will do."
"True," Kelsier said. "I don't know. Gold is strange, Vin. I don't think
anybody understands it. My trainer, Gemmel, said that a gold shadow was a
person who didn't exist—but could have. A person you might have become,
had you not made certain choices. Of course, Gemmel was a bit screwy, so
I'm not sure how much I'd believe of what he said."
Vin nodded. However, it was unlikely that she'd find out more about gold
anytime soon. She didn't intend to ever burn it again, if she could help it. She
continued to sit, letting her emotions recover for a while, and Kelsier moved
back over by the window. Eventually, he perked up.
"He's here?" Vin asked, crawling to her feet.
Kelsier nodded. "You want to stay here and rest some more?"
Vin shook her head.
"All right, then," he said, placing his pocket watch, file, and other metals
on the windowsill. "Let's go."
They didn't go out the window—Kelsier wanted to maintain a low profile,
though this section of the Twists was so deserted that Vin wasn't sure why he
bothered. They left the building via a set of untrustworthy stairs, then crossed
the street in silence.
The building Marsh had chosen was even more run-down than the one Vin
and Kelsier had been sitting in. The front door was gone, though Vin could
see remnants of it in the splintered refuse on the floor. The room inside
smelled of dust and soot, and she had to stifle a sneeze.
A figure standing on the far side of the room spun at the sound. "Kell?"
"It's me," Kelsier said. "And Vin."
As Vin drew closer, she could see Marsh squinting in the darkness. It was
odd to watch him, feeling like she was in plain sight, yet knowing that to him
she and Kelsier were nothing more than shadows. The far wall of the building
had collapsed, and mist floated freely in the room, nearly as dense as it was
outside.
"You have Ministry tattoos!" Vin said, staring at Marsh.
"Of course," Marsh said, his voice as stern as ever. "I had them put on
before I met up with the caravan. I had to have them to play the part of an
acolyte."
They weren't extensive—he was playing a low-ranked obligator—but the
pattern was unmistakable. Dark lines, rimming the eyes, running outward like
crawling cracks of lightning. There was one, single line—much thicker, and
in bright red, running down the side of his face. Vin recognized the pattern:
These were the lines of an obligator who belonged to the Canton of
Inquisition. Marsh hadn't just infiltrated the Ministry, he'd chosen the most
dangerous section of it to infiltrate.
"But, you'll always have them," Vin said. "They're so distinctive—
everywhere you go, you'll be known as either an obligator or a fraud."
"That was part of the price he paid to infiltrate the Ministry, Vin," Kelsier
said quietly.
"It doesn't matter," Marsh said. "I didn't have much of a life before this
anyway. Look, can we hurry? I'm expected to be somewhere soon.
Obligators lead busy lives, and I only have a few minutes' leeway."
"All right," Kelsier said. "I assume your infiltration went well, then?"
"It went fine," Marsh said tersely. "Too well, actually—I think I might
have distinguished myself from the group. I assumed that I would be at a
disadvantage, since I didn't have the same five years of training that the other
acolytes did. I made certain to answer questions as thoroughly as possible,
and to perform my duties with precision. However, I apparently know more
about the Ministry than even some of its members do. I'm certainly more
competent than this batch of newcomers, and the prelans have noticed that."
Kelsier chuckled. "You always were an overachiever."
Marsh snorted quietly. "Anyway, my knowledge—not to mention my skill
as a Seeker—has already earned me an outstanding reputation. I'm not sure
how closely I want the prelans paying attention to me; that background we
devised begins to sound a bit flimsy when an Inquisitor is grilling you."
Vin frowned. "You told them that you're a Misting?"
"Of course I did," Marsh said. "The Ministry—particularly the Canton of
Inquisition—recruits noblemen Seekers diligently. The fact that I'm one is
enough to keep them from asking too many questions about my background.
They're happy enough to have me, despite the fact that I'm a fair bit older
than most acolytes."
"Besides," Kelsier said, "he needed to tell them he was a Misting so that he
could get into the more secretive Ministry sects. Most of the higher-ranking
obligators are Mistings of one sort or another. They tend to favor their own
kind."
"With good reason," Marsh said, speaking quickly. "Kell, the Ministry is
far more competent than we assumed."
"What do you mean?"
"They make use of their Mistings," Marsh said. "Good use of them. They
have bases throughout the city—Soothing stations, as they call them. Each
one contains a couple of Ministry Soothers whose only duty is to extend a
dampening influence around them, calming and depressing the emotions of
everyone in the area."
Kelsier hissed quietly. "How many?"
"Dozens," Marsh said. "Concentrated in skaa sections of the city. They
know that the skaa are beaten, but they want to make sure things stay that
way."
"Bloody hell!" Kelsier said. "I always thought that the skaa inside
Luthadel seemed more beaten down than others. No wonder we had so much
trouble recruiting. The people's emotions are under a constant Soothing!"
Marsh nodded. "The Ministry Soothers are good, Kell—very good. Even
better than Breeze. All they do is Soothe all day, every day. And, since
they're not trying to get you to do anything specific—instead just keeping
you from extreme emotional ranges—they're very hard to notice.
"Each team has a Smoker to keep them hidden, as well as a Seeker to
watch for passing Allomancers. I'll bet this is where the Inquisitors get a lot
of their leads—most of our people are smart enough not to burn when they
know that there's an obligator in the area, but they're more lax in the slums."
"Can you get us a list of the stations?" Kelsier asked. "We need to know
where those Seekers are, Marsh."
Marsh nodded. "I'll try. I'm on my way to a station right now—they
always do personnel changes at night, to maintain their secret. The upper
ranks have taken an interest in me, and they're letting me visit some stations
to become familiar with their work. I'll see if I can get a list for you."
Kelsier nodded in the darkness.
"Just . . . don't be stupid with the information, all right?" Marsh said. "We
have to be careful, Kell. The Ministry has kept these stations secret for quite
some time. Now that we know about them, we have a serious advantage.
Don't waste it."
"I won't," Kelsier promised. "What about the Inquisitors? Did you find
anything out about them?"
Marsh stood quietly for a moment. "They're . . . strange, Kell. I don't
know. They seem to have all of the Allomantic powers, so I assume that they
were once Mistborn. I can't find out much else about them—though I do
know that they age."
"Really?" Kelsier said with interest. "So, they're not immortal?"
"No," Marsh said. "The obligators say that Inquisitors change
occasionally. The creatures are very long-lived, but they do eventually die of
old age. New ones must be recruited from noblemen ranks. They're people,
Kell—they've just been . . . changed."
Kelsier nodded. "If they can die of old age, then there's probably other
ways to kill them too."
"That's what I think," Marsh said. "I'll see what I can find, but don't get
your hopes up. The Inquisitors don't have many dealings with normal
obligators—there's political tension between the two groups. The lord prelan
leads the church, but the Inquisitors think that they should be in charge."
"Interesting," Kelsier said slowly. Vin could practically hear his mind
working on the new information.
"Anyway, I should go," Marsh said. "I had to jog all the way here, and I'm
going to be late getting to my appointment anyway."
Kelsier nodded, and Marsh began to move away, picking his way over the
rubble in his dark obligator's robe.
"Marsh," Kelsier said as Marsh reached the doorway.
Marsh turned.
"Thank you," Kelsier said. "I can only guess how dangerous this is."
"I'm not doing this for you, Kell," Marsh said. "But . . . I appreciate the
sentiment. I'll try and send you another missive once I have more
information."
"Be careful," Kelsier said.
Marsh vanished out into the misty night. Kelsier stood in the fallen room
for a few minutes, staring after his brother.
He wasn't lying about that either, Vin thought. He really does care for
Marsh.
"Let's go," Kelsier said. "We should get you back to Mansion Renoux—
House Lekal is throwing another party in a few days, and you'll need to be
there."
Sometimes, my companions claim that I worry and question too much. However, while I may
wonder about my stature as the hero, there is one thing that I have never questioned: the
ultimate good of our quest.
The Deepness must be destroyed. I have seen it, and I have felt it. This name we give it is too
weak a word, I think. Yes, it is deep and unfathomable, but it is also terrible. Many do not realize
that it is sentient, but I have sensed its mind, such that it is, the few times I have confronted it
directly.
It is a thing of destruction, madness, and corruption. It would destroy this world not out of
spite or out of animosity, but simply because that is what it does.
28
KEEP LEKAL'S BALLROOM WAS SHAPED like the inside of a pyramid. The dance
floor was set on a waist-high platform at the very center of the room, and the
dining tables sat on four similar platforms surrounding it. Servants scuttled
through the trenches running between the platforms, delivering food to the
dining aristocrats.
Four tiers of balconies ran along the inside perimeter of the pyramidal
room, each one a little closer to the point at the top, each one extending just a
little bit more over the dance floor. Though the main room was well lit, the
balconies themselves were shadowed by their overhangs. The design was
intended to allow proper viewing of the keep's most distinctive artistic
feature—the small stained-glass windows that lined each balcony.
Lekal noblemen bragged that while other keeps had larger windows, Keep
Lekal had the most detailed ones. Vin had to admit that they were impressive.
She'd seen so many stained-glass windows over the last few months that she
was beginning to take them for granted. Keep Lekal's windows, however, put
most of them to shame. Each of these was an extravagant, detailed marvel of
resplendent color. Exotic animals pranced, distant landscapes enticed, and
portraits of famous noblemen sat proudly.
There were also, of course, the requisite pictures dedicated to the
Ascension. Vin could recognize these more easily now, and she was surprised
to see references to things she had read in the logbook. The hills of emerald
green. The steep mountains, with faint wavelike lines coming from the tips. A
deep, dark lake. And . . . blackness. The Deepness. A chaotic thing of
destruction.
He defeated it, Vin thought. But . . . what was it? Perhaps the end of the
logbook would reveal more.
Vin shook her head, leaving the alcove—and its black window—behind.
She strolled along the second balcony, wearing a pure white gown—an outfit
she would never have been able to even imagine during her life as a skaa.
Ash and soot had been too much a part of her life, and she didn't think she'd
even had a concept of what a pristine white looked like. That knowledge
made the dress even more wondrous to her. She hoped she would never lose
that—the sense within herself of how life had been before. It made her
appreciate what she had so much more than the real nobility seemed to.
She continued along the balcony, seeking her prey. Glittering colors shone
from backlit windows, sparkling light across the floor. Most of the windows
glowed inside small viewing alcoves along the balcony, and so the balcony
before her was interspersed with pockets of dark and color. Vin didn't stop to
study any more of the windows; she'd done quite a bit of that during her first
balls at Keep Lekal. This night she had business to attend to.
She found her quarry halfway down the east balcony walkway. Lady Kliss
was speaking with a group of people, so Vin paused, pretending to study a
window. Kliss's group soon broke up—one could generally only take so
much of Kliss at a time. The short woman began to walk along the balcony
toward Vin.
When she drew close, Vin turned, as if in surprise. "Why, Lady Kliss! I
haven't seen you all evening."
Kliss turned eagerly, obviously excited by the prospect of another person
with whom to gossip. "Lady Valette!" she said, waddling forward. "You
missed Lord Cabe's ball last week! Not due to a relapse of your earlier
malady, I hope?"
"No," Vin said. "I spent that evening dining with my uncle."
"Oh," Kliss said, disappointed. A relapse would have made a better story.
"Well, that's good."
"I hear you have some interesting news about Lady Tren-Pedri Delouse,"
Vin said carefully. "I myself have heard some interesting things lately." She
eyed Kliss, implying that she'd be willing to trade tidbits.
"Oh, that!" Kliss said eagerly. "Well, I heard that Tren-Pedri isn't at all
interested in a union with House Aime, though her father is implying that
there will be a wedding soon. You know how the Aime sons are, though.
Why, Fedren is an absolute buffoon."
Inwardly, Vin rolled her eyes. Kliss just kept on talking, not even noticing
that Vin had something she herself wanted to share. Using subtlety on this
woman is about as effective as trying to sell bathwater perfumes to a
plantation skaa.
"That is interesting," Vin said, interrupting Kliss. "Perhaps Tren-Pedri's
hesitance comes because of House Aime's connection to House Hasting."
Kliss paused. "Why would that be?"
"Well, we all know what House Hasting is planning."
"We do?" Kliss asked.
Vin pretended to look embarrassed. "Oh. Perhaps that isn't known yet.
Please, Lady Kliss, forget that I said anything."
"Forget?" Kliss said. "Why, it's already forgotten. But, come now, you
can't just stop. What do you mean?"
"I shouldn't say," Vin said. "It's just something I overheard my uncle
talking about."
"Your uncle?" Kliss asked, growing more eager. "What did he say? You
know that you can trust me."
"Well . . ." Vin said. "He said that House Hasting was relocating a lot of
resources back to its plantations in the Southern Dominance. My uncle was
quite happy—Hasting has withdrawn from some of its contracts, and my
uncle was hoping to get them instead."
"Relocating . . ." Kliss said. "Why, they wouldn't do that unless they were
planning to withdraw from the city. . . ."
"Could you blame them?" Vin asked quietly. "I mean, who wants to risk
what happened to House Tekiel?"
"Who indeed . . ." Kliss said. She was practically shaking with eagerness
to go share the news.
"Anyway, please, this is obviously only hearsay," Vin said. "You probably
shouldn't tell anyone about it."
"Of course," Kliss said. "Um . . . excuse me. I need to go refresh myself."
"Of course," Vin said, watching the woman zip away toward the balcony
stairs.
Vin smiled. House Hasting was making no such preparations, of course;
Hasting was one of the strongest families in the city, and wouldn't likely
withdraw. However, Dockson was back at the shop forging documents
which, when delivered to the right places, would imply that Hasting was
planning to do what Vin had said.
If all went well, the entire city would soon expect a Hasting withdrawal.
Their allies would plan for it, and might even begin to withdraw themselves.
People seeking to buy weapons would instead look to other places, fearing
that Hasting wouldn't be able to make good on contracts once it left. When
Hasting didn't withdraw, it would make them look indecisive. Their allies
gone, their income weakened, they could very well be the next house to fall.
House Hasting, however, was one of the easy ones to work against. It had a
reputation for extreme subterfuge, and people would believe that it was
planning a secret retreat. In addition, Hasting was a strong mercantile house
—meaning it depended a great deal upon its contracts to survive. A house
with such an obvious, dominating source of income also had an obvious
weakness. Lord Hasting had worked hard to increase his house's influence
over the last few decades, and in doing so he had extended his house's
resources to their limits.
Other houses were far more stable. Vin sighed, turning and strolling down
the walkway, eyeing the massive clock set between the balconies on the other
side of the chamber.
Venture would not fall easily. It remained powerful through the sheer force
of fortune; though it participated in some contracts, it didn't rely on them like
other houses. Venture was rich enough, and powerful enough, that even
mercantile disaster would only jostle it.
In a way, Venture's stability was a good thing—for Vin, at least. The
house had no obvious weaknesses, so maybe the crew wouldn't be too
disappointed when she couldn't discover any way to bring it down. After all,
they didn't absolutely need to destroy House Venture; doing so would simply
make the plan go more smoothly.
Whatever happened, Vin had to make sure that Venture didn't suffer the
same fate as House Tekiel. Their reputation destroyed, their finances
unhinged, the Tekiel had tried to pull out of the city—and this final show of
weakness had been too much. Some of Tekiel's nobility had been
assassinated before they left; the rest had been found in the burned-out ruins
of their canal boats, apparently hit by bandits. Vin, however, knew of no
thieving band who would dare slaughter so many noblemen.
Kelsier still hadn't been able to discover which house was behind the
murders, but the Luthadel nobility didn't seem to care who the culprit was.
House Tekiel had allowed itself to grow weak, and nothing was more
embarrassing to the aristocracy than a Great House that couldn't maintain
itself. Kelsier had been right: Though polite groups met at balls, the nobility
were more than willing to stab each other square in the chest if it benefited
them.
Kind of like thieving crews, she thought. The nobility really aren't that
different from the people I grew up around.
The atmosphere was only made more dangerous by its polite niceties.
Underneath that front were plots, assassinations, and—perhaps most
importantly—Mistborn. It was no accident that all of the balls she had
attended recently had displayed great numbers of guards, both wearing armor
and not. The parties now served the additional purpose of warning and
showing strength.
Elend is safe, she told herself. Despite what he thinks of his family, they've
done a good job of maintaining their place in the Luthadel hierarchy. He's
the heir—they'll protect him from assassins.
She wished those assertions sounded just a bit more convincing. She knew
that Shan Elariel was planning something. House Venture might be safe, but
Elend himself was a little bit . . . oblivious sometimes. If Shan did something
against him personally, it might or might not be a major blow against House
Venture—but it would certainly be a major blow against Vin.
"Lady Valette Renoux," a voice said. "I do believe that you're late."
Vin turned to see Elend lounging in an alcove to her left. She smiled,
glancing down at the clock, noticing that it was indeed a few minutes past the
time when she had promised to meet him. "I must be picking up bad habits
from some friends of mine," she said, stepping into the alcove.
"Now, see, I didn't say it was a bad thing," Elend said, smiling. "Why, I'd
say that it is a lady's courtly duty to be a bit dilatory. It does gentlemen good
to be forced to wait upon a woman's whims—or, so my mother was always
fond of telling me."
"It sounds like she was a wise woman," Vin said. The alcove was just large
enough for two people standing sideways. She stood across from him, the
balcony overhang a short distance to her left, a marvelous lavender window
to her right, their feet nearly touching.
"Oh, I don't know about that," Elend said. "She married my father, after
all."
"Thereby joining the most powerful house in the Final Empire. You can't
do much better than that—though, I suppose she could have tried to marry
the Lord Ruler. Last I knew, though, he wasn't in the market for a wife."
"Pity," Elend said. "Maybe he'd look a little less depressed if there were a
woman in his life."
"I guess that would depend on the woman." Vin glanced to the side as a
small group of courtgoers strolled past. "You know, this isn't exactly the
most private location. People are giving us odd looks."
"You're the one who stepped in here with me," Elend pointed out.
"Yes, well, I wasn't thinking about the gossip we might start."
"Let it start," Elend said standing up straight.
"Because it will make your father angry?"
Elend shook his head. "I don't care about that anymore, Valette." Elend
took a step forward, bringing them even closer together. Vin could feel his
breath. He stood there for a moment before speaking. "I think I'm going to
kiss you."
Vin shivered slightly. "I don't think you want to do that, Elend."
"Why?"
"How much do you really know about me?"
"Not as much as I'd like to," he said.
"Not as much as you need to, either," Vin said, looking up into his eyes.
"So tell me," he said.
"I can't. Not right now."
Elend stood for a moment, then nodded slightly and pulled away. He
walked out onto the balcony walkway. "So, shall we go for a stroll, then?"
"Yes," Vin said, relieved—yet just a bit disappointed as well.
"It's for the best," Elend said. "That alcove has absolutely terrible reading
light."
"Don't you dare," Vin said, eyeing the book in his pocket as she joined
him on the walkway. "Read when you're with someone else, not me."
"But that's how our relationship began!"
"And that's how it could end too," Vin said, taking his arm.
Elend smiled. They weren't the only couple walking the balcony, and
down below, other pairs spun slowly to the faint music.
It seems so peaceful. Yet, just a few days ago, many of these people stood
and watched idly as women and children were beheaded.
She felt Elend's arm, his warmth beside her. Kelsier said that he smiled so
much because he felt he needed to take what joy he could in the world—to
relish the moments of happiness that seemed so infrequent in the Final
Empire. Strolling for a time beside Elend, Vin thought she was beginning to
understand how Kelsier felt.
"Valette . . ." Elend said slowly.
"What?"
"I want you to leave Luthadel," he said.
"What?"
He paused, turning to look at her. "I've thought about this a lot. You may
not realize it, but the city is becoming dangerous. Very dangerous."
"I know."
"Then you know that a small house without allies has no place in the
Central Dominance right now," Elend said. "Your uncle was brave to come
here and try to establish himself, but he chose the wrong time. I . . . I think
things are going to get out of hand here very soon. When that happens, I can't
guarantee your safety."
"My uncle knows what he's doing, Elend."
"This is different, Valette," Elend said. "Entire houses are falling. The
Tekiel family wasn't slaughtered by bandits—that was the work of House
Hasting. Those won't be the last deaths we see before this is through."
Vin paused, thinking of Shan again. "But . . . you're safe, right? House
Venture—it's not like the others. It's stable."
Elend shook his head. "We're even more vulnerable than the rest, Valette."
"But, your fortune is large," Vin said. "You don't depend on contracts."
"They may not be visible," Elend said quietly, "but they're there, Valette.
We put on a good show, and the others assume that we have more than we
do. However, with the Lord Ruler's house taxings . . . well, the only way we
maintain so much power in this city is through income. Secret income."
Vin frowned, and Elend leaned closer, speaking almost in a whisper. "My
family mines the Lord Ruler's atium, Valette," he said. "That's where our
wealth comes from. In a way, our stability depends almost completely on the
Lord Ruler's whims. He doesn't like to bother collecting the atium himself,
but he gets very perturbed if the delivery schedule is disrupted."
Find out more! instinct told her. This is the secret; this is what Kelsier
needs. "Oh, Elend," Vin whispered. "You shouldn't be telling me this."
"Why not?" he said. "I trust you. Look, you need to understand how
dangerous things are. The atium supply has been having some troubles lately.
Ever since. . . . well, something happened a few years ago. Ever since then,
things have been different. My father can't meet the Lord Ruler's quotas, and
last time that happened . . ."
"What?"
"Well," Elend said, looking troubled. "Let's just say that things could soon
grow very bad for the Ventures. The Lord Ruler depends on that atium,
Valette—it's one of the prime ways he controls the nobility. A house without
atium is a house that can't defend itself from Mistborn. By keeping a large
reserve, the Lord Ruler controls the market, making himself extremely
wealthy. He funds his armies by making atium scarce, then selling extra bits
for lavish amounts. If you knew more about the economics of Allomancy,
this would probably make a lot more sense to you."
Oh, trust me. I understand more than you think. And now I know far more
than I should.
Elend paused, smiling pleasantly as an obligator strolled along the balcony
walkway beside them. The obligator looked them over as he passed, eyes
thoughtful within their web of tattoos.
Elend turned back to her as soon as the obligator had passed. "I want you
to leave," he repeated. "People know that I've paid attention to you.
Hopefully, they'll assume it was just to spite my father, but they could still
try to use you. The Great Houses wouldn't have any qualms about crushing
your entire family just to get at me and my father. You have to go."
"I'll . . . think about it," Vin said.
"There isn't much time left for thinking," Elend warned. "I want you to
leave before you get too involved with what is going on in this city."
I'm already involved so much more than you think. "I said I'd think about
it," she said. "Look, Elend, I think you should be more worried about
yourself. I think Shan Elariel is going to try something to strike against you."
"Shan?" Elend said with amusement. "She's harmless."
"I don't think she is, Elend. You need to be more careful."
He laughed. "Look at us . . . each one trying to convince the other how
dreadfully dire the situation is, each one bullheadedly refusing to listen to the
other."
Vin paused, then smiled.
Elend sighed. "You're not going to listen to me, are you? Is there anything
I can do to make you leave?"
"Not right now," she said quietly. "Look, Elend, can't we just enjoy the
time we have together? If things continue as they are, we might not have
many more opportunities like this for a while."
He paused, then finally nodded. She could see he was still troubled, but he
did turn back to their walk, letting her gently take his arm again as they
strolled. They walked together for a time, silent until something drew Vin's
attention. She removed her hands from his arm, instead reaching down to
take his hand in her own.
He glanced at her, frowning in confusion as she tapped the ring on his
finger. "It really is metal," she said, a bit surprised, despite what she'd been
told.
Elend nodded. "Pure gold."
"Don't you worry about . . ."
"Allomancers?" Elend asked. He shrugged. "I don't know—they're not the
sort of thing that I've ever had to deal with. You don't wear metal, out on the
plantations?"
Vin shook her head, tapping one of the barrettes in her hair. "Painted
wood," she said.
Elend nodded. "Probably wise," he said. "But, well, the longer you stay in
Luthadel, the more you'll realize that little we do here is done in the name of
wisdom. The Lord Ruler wears metal rings—and so, therefore, does the
nobility. Some philosophers think that's all part of His plan. The Lord Ruler
wears metal because he knows that the nobility will mimic him, and therefore
give his Inquisitors power over them."
"Do you agree?" Vin asked, taking his arm again as they walked. "With
the philosophers, I mean?"
Elend shook his head. "No," he said in a quieter voice. "The Lord Ruler . .
. he's just arrogant. I've read of warriors, long ago, who would run into battle
without armor on, supposedly to prove how brave and strong they were.
That's how this is, I think—though admittedly on a far more subtle level. He
wears metal to flaunt his power, to show how unfrightened—how
unthreatened—he is by anything we could do to him."
Well, Vin thought, he's willing to call the Lord Ruler arrogant. Perhaps I
can get him to admit a little more. . . .
Elend paused, glancing over at the clock. "I'm afraid I don't have a whole
lot of time tonight, Valette."
"That's right," Vin said. "You'll need to go off and meet with your
friends." She glanced at him, trying to gauge his reaction.
He didn't seem very surprised. He simply raised an eyebrow in her
direction. "Indeed, I will. You're very observant."
"It doesn't take much observing," Vin said. "Anytime we're at Keeps
Hasting, Venture, Lekal, or Elariel, you run off with the same people."
"My drinking friends," Elend said with a smile. "An unlikely group in
today's political climate, but one that helps annoy my father."
"What do you do at these meetings?" Vin asked.
"We talk philosophy, mostly," Elend said. "We're kind of a stuffy lot—
which isn't too surprising, I guess, if you know any of us. We talk about the
government, about politics . . . about the Lord Ruler."
"What about him?"
"Well, we don't like some of the things he's done with the Final Empire."
"So you do want to overthrow him!" Vin said.
Elend gave her a strange look. "Overthrow him? What gave you that idea,
Valette? He's the Lord Ruler—he's God. We can't do anything about him
being in charge." He looked away as they continued to walk. "No, my friends
and I, we just . . . wish the Final Empire could be a little different. We can't
change things now, but maybe someday—assuming we all survive the next
year or so—we'll be in positions to influence the Lord Ruler."
"To do what?"
"Well, take those executions a few days ago," Elend said. "I don't see that
they did any good. The skaa rebelled. In reprisal, the Ministry executed a few
hundred random people. What is that going to do besides make the populace
even more angry? So, next time the rebellion will be bigger. Does that mean
that the Lord Ruler will order more people beheaded? How long can that
continue before there just aren't any skaa left?"
Vin walked thoughtfully. "And what would you do, Elend Venture?" she
finally said. "If you were in charge."
"I don't know," Elend confessed. "I've read a lot of books—some that I'm
not supposed to—and I haven't found any easy answers. I'm pretty certain,
however, that beheading people won't solve anything. The Lord Ruler has
been around for a long time—you'd think that he'd have found a better way.
But, anyway, we'll have to continue this later. . . ." He slowed, turning to
look at her.
"Time already?" she asked.
Elend nodded. "I promised I'd meet them, and they kind of look to me. I
suppose I could tell them I'll be late. . . ."
Vin shook her head. "Go drink with your friends. I'll be fine—I have a few
more people I need to talk to anyway." She did need to get back to work;
Breeze and Dockson had spent hours planning and preparing the lies that she
was supposed to spread, and they would be waiting for her report back at
Clubs's shop after the party.
Elend smiled. "Maybe I shouldn't worry about you so much. Who knows
—considering all of your political maneuvering, maybe House Renoux will
soon be the power in town, and I'll just be a lowly beggar."
Vin smiled, and he bowed—winking at her—then was off toward the
stairs. Vin walked slowly over to the balcony railing, looking down at the
people dancing and dining below.
So he's not a revolutionary, she thought. Kelsier was right again. I wonder
if he ever gets tired of that.
But still, she couldn't feel too disappointed with Elend. Not everyone was
so insane that they'd think to overthrow their god-emperor. The mere fact
that Elend was willing to think for himself set him apart from the rest; he was
a good man, one who deserved a woman who was worthy of his trust.
Unfortunately, he had Vin.
So House Venture secretly mines the Lord Ruler's atium, she thought. They
must be the ones who administer the Pits of Hathsin.
It was a frighteningly precarious position for a house to be in—their
finances depended directly on pleasing the Lord Ruler. Elend thought that he
was being careful, but Vin was worried. He wasn't taking Shan Elariel
seriously enough—of that, Vin was certain. She turned, walking intently from
the balcony and down to the main floor.
She found Shan's table easily; the woman always sat with a large group of
attendant noblewomen, presiding like a lord over his plantation. Vin paused.
She'd never approached Shan directly. Someone, however, needed to protect
Elend; he was obviously too foolish to do it himself.
Vin strode forward. Shan's Terrisman studied Vin as she approached. He
was so different from Sazed—he didn't have the same . . . spirit. This man
maintained a flat expression, like some creature carved of stone. A few of the
ladies shot disapproving glances toward Vin, but most of them—Shan
included—ignored her.
Vin stood awkwardly beside the table, waiting for a lull in the
conversation. There was none. Finally, she just took a few steps closer to
Shan.
"Lady Shan?" she asked.
Shan turned with an icy glare. "I didn't send for you, country girl."
"Yes, but I've found some books like you—"
"I no longer require your services," Shan said, turning away. "I can deal
with Elend Venture on my own. Now, be a good little twit and stop bothering
me."
Vin stood, stunned. "But, your plan—"
"I said that you are no longer needed. You think I was harsh on you
before, girl? That was when you were on my good side. Try annoying me
now."
Vin wilted reflexively before the woman's demeaning gaze. She seemed . .
. disgusted. Angry, even. Jealous?
She must have figured it out, Vin thought. She finally realized out that I'm
not just playing with Elend. She knows that I care for him, and doesn't trust
me to keep her secrets.
Vin backed away from the table. Apparently, she would have to use other
methods to discover Shan's plans.
Despite what he often said, Elend Venture did not consider himself to be a
rude man. He was more of a . . . verbal philosopher. He liked to test and turn
conversation to see how people would react. Like the great thinkers of old, he
pushed boundaries and experimented with unconventional methods.
Of course, he thought, holding his cup of brandy up before his eyes,
inspecting it musingly, most of those old philosophers were eventually
executed for treason. Not exactly the most successful role models.
His evening political conversation with his group was finished, and he had
retired with several friends to Keep Lekal's gentlemen's lounge, a small
chamber adjacent to the ballroom. It was furnished in deep green colors, and
the chairs were comfortable; it would have been a nice place to read, had he
been in a slightly better mood. Jastes sat across from him, puffing
contentedly on his pipe. It was good to see the young Lekal looking so calm.
These last few weeks had been difficult for him.
House war, Elend thought. What terrible timing. Why now? Things were
going so well. . . .
Telden returned with a refilled drink a few moments later.
"You know," Jastes said, gesturing with his pipe, "any one of the servants
in here would have brought you a new drink."
"I felt like stretching my legs," Telden said, settling into the third chair.
"And you flirted with no less than three women on your way back," Jastes
said. "I counted."
Telden smiled, sipping his drink. The large man never just "sat"—he
lounged. Telden could look relaxed and comfortable no matter what the
situation, his sharp suits and well-styled hair enviably handsome.
Maybe I should pay just a little more attention to things like that, Elend
thought to himself. Valette suffers my hair the way it is, but would she like it
better if I had it styled?
Elend often intended to make his way to a stylist or tailor, but other things
tended to steal his attention. He'd get lost in his studies or spend too long
reading, then find himself late for his appointments. Again.
"Elend is quiet this evening," Telden noticed. Though other groups of
gentlemen sat in the dim lounge, the chairs were spread out enough to allow
for private conversations.
"He's been like that a lot, lately," Jastes said.
"Ah, yes," Telden said, frowning slightly.
Elend knew them well enough to take the hint. "Now, see, why must
people be like this? If you have something to say, why not simply say it?"
"Politics, my friend," Jastes said. "We are—if you haven't noticed—
noblemen."
Elend rolled his eyes.
"All right, I'll say it," Jastes replied, running his hand through his hair—a
nervous habit that Elend was sure contributed somewhat to the young man's
growing baldness. "You've been spending a lot of time with that Renoux girl,
Elend."
"There is a simple explanation for that," Elend said. "You see, I happen to
like her."
"Not good, Elend," Telden said with a shake of his head. "Not good."
"Why?" Elend asked. "You seem pleased enough to ignore class variances
yourself, Telden. I've seen you flirt with half the serving girls in the room."
"I'm not heir to my house," Telden said.
"And," Jastes said, "these girls are trustworthy. My family hired these
women—we know their houses, their backgrounds, and their allegiances."
Elend frowned. "What are you implying?"
"Something's strange about that girl, Elend," Jastes said. He'd gone back
to his normal nervous self, his pipe sitting unnoticed in its holder on the table.
Telden nodded. "She got too close to you too quickly, Elend. She wants
something."
"Like what?" Elend asked, growing annoyed.
"Elend, Elend," Jastes said. "You can't just avoid the game by saying you
don't want to play. It'll find you. Renoux moved into town just as house
tensions began to rise, and he brought with him an unknown scion—a girl
who immediately began to woo the most important and available young man
in Luthadel. Doesn't that seem odd to you?"
"Actually," Elend noted, "I approached her first—if only because she had
stolen my reading spot."
"But, you have to admit that it's suspicious how quickly she latched on to
you," Telden said. "If you're going to dabble with romance, Elend, you need
to learn one thing: You can play with women if you want, but don't let
yourself get too close to them. That's where the trouble starts."
Elend shook his head. "Valette is different."
The other two shared a look, then Telden shrugged, turning back to his
drink. Jastes, however, sighed, then stood and stretched. "Anyway, I should
probably be going."
"One more drink," Telden said.
Jastes shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "You know how