Most of the Terrismen are not as bad as Rashek. However, I can see that they believe him, to an
extent. These are simple men, not philosophers or scholars, and they don't understand that their
own prophecies say the Hero of Ages will be an outsider. They only see what Rashek points out
—that they are an ostensibly superior people, and should be "dominant" rather than
subservient.
Before such passion and hatred, even good men can be deceived.
30
IT TOOK RETURNING TO THE Venture ballroom to remind Vin what true majesty
was.
She'd visited so many keeps that she had begun to grow desensitized to the
splendor. There was something special about Keep Venture, however—
something that the other keeps strived for, but never quite achieved. It was as
if Venture were the parent, and the others were well-taught children. All of
the keeps were beautiful, but there was no denying which one was the finest.
The enormous Venture hall, lined by a row of massive pillars on each side,
seemed even more grand than usual. Vin couldn't quite decide why. She
thought about it as she waited for a servant to take her shawl. The normal
limelights shone outside the stained-glass windows, spraying the room with
shards of light. The tables were immaculate beneath their pillared overhang.
The lord's table, set on the small balcony at the very end of the hallway,
looked as regal as ever.
It's almost . . . too perfect, Vin thought, frowning to herself. Everything
seemed slightly exaggerated. The tablecloths were even whiter, and pressed
even flatter, than usual. The servants' uniforms seemed particularly sharp.
Instead of regular soldiers at the doors, hazekillers stood looking intentionally
impressive, distinguished by their wooden shields and lack of armor. All
together, the room made it seem as if even the regular Venture perfection had
been heightened.
"Something's wrong, Sazed," she whispered as a servant moved off to
prepare her table.
"What do you mean, Mistress?" the tall steward asked, standing behind her
and to the side.
"There are too many people here," Vin said, realizing one of the things that
was bothering her. Ball attendance had been tapering off during the last few
months. Yet, it seemed like everyone had returned for the Venture event. And
they all wore their finest.
"Something's going on," Vin said quietly. "Something we don't know
about."
"Yes . . ." Sazed said quietly. "I sense it too. Perhaps I should go to the
stewards' dinner early."
"Good idea," Vin said. "I think I might just skip the meal this evening.
We're a bit late, and it looks like people have already started chatting."
Sazed smiled.
"What?"
"I remember a time when you would never skip a meal, Mistress."
Vin snorted. "Just be glad I never tried to stuff my pockets with food from
one of these balls—trust me, I was tempted. Now, get going."
Sazed nodded and moved off toward the stewards' dinner. Vin scanned the
chatting groups. No sign of Shan, thankfully, she thought. Unfortunately,
Kliss was nowhere to be seen either, so Vin had to choose someone else to go
to for gossip. She strolled forward, smiling at Lord Idren Seeris, a cousin to
House Elariel and a man she had danced with on several occasions. He
acknowledged her with a stiff nod, and she joined his group.
Vin smiled at the other members of the group—three women and one other
lord. She knew them all at least passingly, and had danced with Lord Yestal.
However, this evening all four of them gave her cold looks.
"I haven't been to Keep Venture in a while," Vin said, falling into her
persona as a country girl. "I'd forgotten how majestic it is!"
"Indeed," said one of the ladies. "Excuse me—I'm going to go get
something to drink."
"I'll go with you," one of the other ladies added, both of them leaving the
group.
Vin watched them go, frowning.
"Ah," Yestal said. "Our meal has arrived. Coming, Triss?"
"Of course," the final lady said, joining Yestal as they walked away.
Idren adjusted his spectacles, shooting Vin a halfhearted look of apology,
then withdrew. Vin stood, dumbfounded. She hadn't received such an
obviously cold reception since her first few balls.
What's going on? she thought with increasing trepidation. Is this Shan's
work? Could she turn an entire room full of people against me?
No, that didn't feel right. It would have required too much effort. In
addition, the oddity wasn't just around her. All of the groups of noblemen
were . . . different this evening.
Vin tried a second group, with an even worse result. As soon as she joined,
the members pointedly ignored her. Vin felt so out of place that she
withdrew, fleeing to get herself a cup of wine. As she walked, she noticed
that the first group—the one with Yestal and Idren—had re-formed with
exactly the same members.
Vin paused, standing just inside the shade of the eastern overhang and
scanning the crowd. There were very few people dancing, and she recognized
them all as established couples. There also seemed to be very little mingling
between groups or tables. While the ballroom was filled, it seemed most of
the attendees were distinctly trying to ignore everyone else.
I need to get a better view of this, she thought, walking to the stairwell. A
short climb later, she came out on the long, corridorlike balcony set into the
wall above the dance floor, its familiar blue lanterns giving the stonework a
soft, melancholy hue.
Vin paused. Elend's cubbyhole sat between the rightmost column and the
wall, well lit by a single lantern. He almost always spent Venture balls
reading there; he didn't like the pomp and ceremony that came from hosting a
party.
The cubbyhole was empty. She approached the railing, then craned out to
look toward the far end of the grand hallway. The host's table sat on an
overhang at the same level as the balconies, and she was shocked to see
Elend sitting there dining with his father.
What? she thought incredulously. Never once, during the half-dozen balls
she'd attended at Keep Venture, had she seen Elend sit with his family.
Down below, she caught sight of a familiar, colorful-robed figure moving
through the crowd. She waved toward Sazed, but he had obviously already
seen her. As she waited for him, Vin thought she faintly heard a familiar
voice coming from the other end of the balcony. She turned and checked,
noticing a short figure she'd missed before. Kliss was speaking with a small
group of minor lords.
So that's where Kliss went, Vin thought. Maybe she'll talk to me. Vin
stood, waiting for either Kliss to finish her conversation or Sazed to arrive.
Sazed came first, leaving the stairwell, breathing heavily. "Mistress," he
said in a low voice, joining her by the railing.
"Tell me you discovered something, Sazed. This ball feels . . . creepy.
Everyone's so solemn and cold. It's almost like we're at a funeral, not a
party."
"It is an apt metaphor, my lady," Sazed said quietly. "We have missed an
important announcement. House Hasting said it is not going to hold its
regular ball this week."
Vin frowned. "So? Houses have canceled balls before."
"House Elariel canceled as well. Normally, Tekiel would come next—but
that house is defunct. House Shunah has already announced that it won't be
holding any more balls."
"What are you saying?"
"It appears, Mistress, that this will be the last ball for a time . . . perhaps a
very long time."
Vin glanced down at the hall's magnificent windows, which stood above
the independent—almost hostile—groups of people.
"That's what's going on," she said. "They're finalizing alliances. Everyone
is standing with their strongest friends and supporters. They know this is the
last ball, and so they all came to put in an appearance, but they know they've
no time left for politicking."
"It seems that way, Mistress."
"They're all going on the defensive," Vin said. "Retreating behind their
walls, so to speak. That's why no one wants to talk to me—we made Renoux
too neutral a force. I don't have a faction, and it's a bad time to be gambling
on random political elements."
"Master Kelsier needs to know this information, Mistress," Sazed said.
"He planned on pretending to be an informant again tonight. If he's ignorant
of this situation, it could seriously damage his credibility. We should leave."
"No," Vin said, turning toward Sazed. "I can't go—not when everyone
else is staying. They all thought it was important to come and be seen at this
last ball, and so I shouldn't leave until they start to."
Sazed nodded. "Very well."
"You go, Sazed. Hire a carriage and go tell Kell what we've learned. I'll
stay for a little longer, then leave when it won't make House Renoux look
weak."
Sazed paused. "I . . . don't know, Mistress."
Vin rolled her eyes. "I appreciate the help you've given me, but you don't
need to keep holding my hand. Plenty of people come to these balls without
their stewards to watch after them."
Sazed sighed. "Very well, Mistress. I shall return, however, after I have
located Master Kelsier."
Vin nodded, bidding him farewell, and he retreated down the stone
stairwell. Vin leaned against the balcony in Elend's spot, watching until
Sazed appeared below and disappeared toward the front gates.
Now what? Even if I can find someone to talk to, there's really no point in
spreading rumors now.
She felt a feeling of dread. Who would have thought that she would come
to enjoy noble frivolity so much? The experience was tainted by her
knowledge of what many noblemen were capable of, but even still, there had
been a . . . dreamlike joy to the entire experience.
Would she ever attend balls like these again? What would happen to
Valette the noblewoman? Would she have to put away her dresses and
makeup, and return to simply being Vin the street thief? There probably
wouldn't be room for things like grand balls in Kelsier's new kingdom, and
that might not be a bad thing—what right did she have to dance while other
skaa starved? Yet . . . it seemed like the world would be missing something
beautiful without the keeps and dancers, the dresses and the festivities.
She sighed, leaning back from the railing, glancing down at her own dress.
It was of a deep shimmering blue, with white circular designs sewn around
the base of the skirt. It was sleeveless, but the blue silk gloves she wore ran
all the way past her elbows.
Once she would have found the outfit frustratingly bulky. Now, however,
she found it beautifying. She liked how it was designed to make her look full
through the chest, yet accentuated her thin upper torso. She liked how it
flared at the waist, slowly fanning out into a wide bell that rustled as she
walked.
She'd miss it—she'd miss it all. But, Sazed was right. She couldn't stop
the progression of time, she could only enjoy the moment.
I'm not going to let him sit up there at the high table all evening and
ignore me, she decided.
Vin turned and walked along the balcony, nodding to Kliss as she passed.
The balcony ended in a corridor that turned, and—as Vin had correctly
guessed—led out onto the ledge that held the host's table.
She stood inside the corridor for a moment, looking out. Lords and ladies
sat in regal outfits, basking in the privilege of being invited up to sit with
Lord Straff Venture. Vin waited, trying to get Elend's attention, and finally
one of the guests noticed her, then nudged Elend. He turned with surprise,
saw Vin, then flushed slightly.
She waved briefly, and he stood, excusing himself. Vin ducked back into
the stone corridor a bit so they could speak more privately.
"Elend!" she said as he walked into the corridor. "You're sitting with your
father!"
He nodded. "This ball has turned into something of a special event,
Valette, and my father was fairly insistent that I obey protocol."
"When are we going to have time to talk?"
Elend paused. "I'm not sure that we will."
Vin frowned. He seemed . . . reserved. His usual, slightly worn and
wrinkled suit had been replaced by a sharp, well-fitted one. His hair was even
combed.
"Elend?" she said, stepping forward.
He raised a hand, warding her back. "Things have changed, Valette."
No, she thought. This can't change, not yet! "Things? What 'things'?
Elend, what are you talking about?"
"I am heir to House Venture," he said. "And dangerous times are coming.
House Hasting lost an entire convoy this afternoon, and that's only the
beginning. Within the month, the keeps will openly be at war. These aren't
things I can ignore, Valette. It's time I stopped being a liability to my
family."
"That's fine," Vin said. "That doesn't mean—"
"Valette," Elend interrupted. "You are a liability too. A very big one. I
won't lie and claim that I never cared for you—I did, and I still do. However,
I knew from the start—as you did—that this could never be anything more
than a passing dalliance. The truth is, my house needs me—and it's more
important than you are."
Vin paled. "But . . ."
He turned to go back to dinner.
"Elend," she said quietly, "please don't turn away from me."
He paused, then looked back at her. "I know the truth, Valette. I know how
you've lied about who you are. I don't care, really—I'm not angry, or even
disappointed. The truth is, I expected it. You're just . . . playing the game.
Like we all are." He paused, then shook his head and turned away from her.
"Like I am."
"Elend?" she said, reaching for him.
"Don't make me embarrass you in public, Valette."
Vin paused, feeling numb. And then, she was too angry to be numb—too
angry, too frustrated . . . and too terrified.
"Don't leave," she whispered. "Don't you leave me too."
"I'm sorry," he said. "But I have to go meet with my friends. It was . . .
fun."
And he left.
Vin stood in the darkened corridor. She felt herself shiver quietly, and she
turned to stumble back out onto the main balcony. To the side, she could see
Elend bid good evening to his family, then head through a back corridor
toward the keep's living section.
He can't do this to me. Not Elend. Not now . . .
However, a voice from within—a voice she had nearly forgotten—began
to speak. Of course he left you, Reen whispered. Of course he abandoned
you. Everyone will betray you, Vin. What did I teach you?
No! she thought. It's just the political tension. Once this is over, I'll be
able to convince him to come back. . . .
I never came back for you, Reen whispered. He won't either. The voice felt
so real—it was almost like she could hear him beside her.
Vin leaned up against the balcony railing, using the iron grating for
strength, holding herself up. She wouldn't let him destroy her. A life on the
streets hadn't been able to break her; she wouldn't let a self-important
nobleman do so. She just kept telling herself that.
But, why did this hurt so much more than starvation—so much more than
one of Camon's beatings?
"Well, Valette Renoux," a voice said from behind.
"Kliss," Vin said. "I'm . . . not in the mood to talk right now."
"Ah," Kliss said. "So Elend Venture finally spurned you. Don't worry,
child—he'll get what he deserves shortly."
Vin turned, frowning at the odd tone in Kliss's voice. The woman didn't
seem like herself. She seemed too . . . controlled.
"Deliver a message to your uncle for me, will you dear?" Kliss asked
lightly. "Tell him that a man such as himself—without house alliances—
might have a difficult time gathering intelligence in the upcoming months. If
he needs a good source of information, tell him to send for me. I know lots of
interesting things."
"You're an informant!" Vin said, pushing aside her pain for the moment.
"But, you're . . ."
"A foolish gossip?" the short woman asked. "Why, yes I am. It's
fascinating, the kinds of things you can learn when you're known as the court
gossip. People come to you to spread obvious lies—such as the things you
told me about House Hasting last week. Why would you want me to spread
such untruths? Could House Renoux be making a bid for the weapons market
during the house war? Indeed—could Renoux be behind the recent attack on
the Hasting barges?"
Kliss's eyes twinkled. "Tell your uncle that I can be made to keep quiet
about what I know—for a small fee."
"You've been duping me all along. . . ." Vin said numbly.
"Of course, dear," Kliss said, patting Vin's arm. "That's what we do here
at court. You'll learn eventually—if you survive. Now, be a good child and
deliver my message, all right?"
Kliss turned, her squat, gaudy dress suddenly seeming a brilliant costume
to Vin.
"Wait!" Vin said. "What was that you said about Elend earlier? He's going
to get what he deserves?"
"Hum?" Kliss said, turning. "Why . . . that's right. You've been asking
after Shan Elariel's plans, haven't you?"
Shan? Vin thought with rising concern. "What is she planning?"
"Now that, my dear, is an expensive secret indeed. I could tell you . . . but
then, what would I have in return? A woman of an unimportant house like
myself needs to find sustenance somewhere. . . ."
Vin pulled off her sapphire necklace, the only piece of jewelry she was
wearing. "Here. Take it."
Kliss accepted the necklace with a thoughtful expression. "Hum, yes, very
nice indeed."
"What do you know?" Vin snapped.
"Young Elend is going to be one of the first Venture casualties in the
house war, I'm afraid," Kliss said, stuffing the necklace into a sleeve pocket.
"It's unfortunate—he really does seem like a nice boy. Too nice, probably."
"When?" Vin demanded. "Where? How?"
"So many questions, but only one necklace," Kliss said idly.
"It's all I have right now!" Vin said truthfully. Her coin pouch contained
only bronze clips for Steelpushing.
"But it's a very valuable secret, as I've said," Kliss continued. "By telling
you, my own life would be—"
That's it! Vin thought furiously. Stupid aristocratic games!
Vin burned zinc and brass, hitting Kliss with a powerful blast of emotional
Allomancy. She Soothed away all of the woman's feelings but fear, then took
hold of that fear and yanked on it with a firm tug.
"Tell me!" Vin growled.
Kliss gasped, wobbling and nearly falling to the ground. "An Allomancer!
No wonder Renoux brought such a distant cousin with him to Luthadel!"
"Speak!" Vin said, taking a step forward.
"You're too late to help him," Kliss said. "I'd never sell a secret like this if
it had a chance of turning on me!"
"Tell me!"
"He'll be assassinated by Elariel Allomancers this evening," Kliss
whispered. "He might be dead already—it was supposed to happen as soon as
he withdrew from the lord's table. But if you want revenge, you'll have to
look toward Lord Straff Venture too."
"Elend's father?" Vin asked with surprise.
"Of course, foolish child," Kliss said. "Lord Venture would love nothing
more than an excuse to give the house title to his nephew instead. All Venture
had to do was withdraw a few of his soldiers from the rooftop around young
Elend's room to let in the Elariel assassins. And, since the assassination will
occur during one of Elend's little philosophy meetings, Lord Venture will be
able to rid himself of a Hasting and a Lekal too!"
Vin spun. I have to do something!
"Of course," Kliss said with a chuckle, standing up. "Lord Venture is in for
a surprise himself. I've heard that your Elend has some very . . . choice books
in his possession. Young Venture should be much more careful about the
things he tells his women, I think."
Vin turned back to the smiling Kliss. The woman winked at her. "I'll keep
your Allomancy a secret, child. Just make certain I get payment by tomorrow
afternoon. A lady must buy food—and as you can see, I need a lot of it.
"As for House Venture . . . well, I'd distance myself from them, if I were
you. Shan's assassins are going to make quite the disturbance tonight. I
wouldn't be surprised if half the court ended up in the boy's room to see what
the ruckus was about. When the court sees those books Elend has . . . well,
let's just say that the obligators are going to become very interested in House
Venture for a time. Too bad Elend will already be dead—we haven't had an
open execution of a nobleman in quite some time!"
Elend's room, Vin thought desperately. That's where they must be! She
turned, holding the sides of her dress and rustling frantically down the
balcony walkway toward the corridor she had left moments before.
"Where are you going?" Kliss asked with surprise.
"I have to stop this!" Vin said.
Kliss laughed. "I already told you that you're too late. Venture is a very
old keep, and the back passages leading to the lords' quarters are quite the
maze. If you don't know your way, you'll end up lost for hours."
Vin glanced around, feeling helpless.
"Besides, child," Kliss added, turning to walk away. "Didn't the boy just
spurn you? What do you owe him?"
Vin paused.
She's right. What do I owe him?
The answer came immediately. I love him.
With that thought came strength. Vin rushed forward despite Kliss's
laughter. She had to try. She entered the corridor and moved into the back
passageways. However, Kliss's words soon proved true: The dark stone
passageways were narrow and unadorned. She'd never find her way in time.
The roof, she thought. Elend's rooms will have an outside balcony. I need
a window!
She dashed down a passage, kicking off her shoes and pulling off her
stockings, then running as best she could in the dress. She searched
frantically for a window big enough to fit through. She burst out into a larger
corridor, empty save for flickering torches.
A massive lavender rose window stood on the far side of the room.
Good enough, Vin thought. With a flare of steel, she threw herself into the
air, Pushing against a massive iron door behind her. She flew forward for a
moment, then Pushed powerfully against the rose window's iron bindings.
She lurched to a stop in the air, Pushing both backward and forward at the
same time. She strained, hanging in the empty corridor, flaring her pewter to
keep from being crushed. The rose window was enormous, but it was mostly
glass. How strong could it be?
Very strong. Vin groaned beneath the strain. She heard a snap behind her,
and the door began to twist in its mountings.
You . . . must . . . give! she thought angrily, flaring her steel. Chips of stone
fell around the window.
Then, with a crack of sound, the rose window burst free from the stone
wall. It fell backward into the dark night, and Vin shot out behind it.
Cool mist enveloped her. She Pulled slightly against the door inside the
room, keeping herself from going out too far, then Pushed mightily against
the falling window. The enormous dark-glassed window tumbled beneath
her, churning the mists as Vin shot away from it. Straight up, toward the roof.
The window crashed to the ground just as Vin flew up over the edge of the
rooftop, her dress fluttering madly in the wind. She landed on the bronze-
plated roof with a thump, falling to a crouch. The metal was cool beneath her
toes and fingers.
Tin flared, illuminating the night. She could see nothing out of the
ordinary.
She burned bronze, using it as Marsh had taught her, searching for signs of
Allomancy. There weren't any—the assassins had a Smoker with them.
I can't search the entire building! Vin thought, desperately, flaring her
bronze. Where are they?
Then, oddly, she thought she sensed something. An Allomantic pulse in
the night. Faint. Hidden. But enough.
Vin rose to dash across the rooftop, trusting her instincts. As she ran, she
flared pewter and grabbed her dress near the neck, then ripped the garment
down the front with a single yank. She pulled her coin pouch and metal vials
from a hidden pocket, and then—still running—she ripped the dress,
petticoats, and attached leggings free, tossing it all aside. Her corset and
gloves went next. Underneath, she wore a thin, sleeveless white shift and a
pair of white shorts.
She dashed frantically. I can't be too late, she thought. Please. I can't.
Figures resolved in the mists ahead. They stood beside an angled rooftop
skylight; Vin had passed several similar ones as she ran. One of the figures
pointed toward the skylight, a weapon glittering in its hand.
Vin cried out, Pushing herself off the bronze roof in an arcing jump. She
landed in the very center of the surprised group of people, then thrust her coin
pouch upward, ripping it in two.
Coins sprayed into the air, reflecting light from the window below. As the
glistening shower of metal fell around Vin, she Pushed.
Coins zipped away from her like a swarm of insects, each one leaving a
trail in the mist. Figures cried out as coins hit flesh, and several of the dark
forms dropped.
Several did not. Some of the coins snapped away, Pushed aside by
invisible Allomantic hands. Four people remained standing: Two of them
wore mistcloaks; one of them was familiar.
Shan Elariel. Vin didn't need to see the cloak to understand; there was only
one reason a woman as important as Shan would come on an assassination
like this. She was a Mistborn.
"You?" Shan asked in shock. She wore a black outfit of trousers and shirt,
her dark hair pulled back, her mistcloak worn almost stylishly.
Two Mistborn, Vin thought. Not good. She scrambled away, ducking as
one of the assassins swung a dueling cane at her.
Vin slid across the rooftop, then Pulled herself to a brief halt, spinning with
one hand resting against the cold bronze. She reached out and Pulled against
the few coins that hadn't escaped out into the night, yanking them back into
her hand.
"Kill her!" Shan snapped. The two men Vin had felled lay groaning on the
rooftop. They weren't dead; in fact, one was climbing unsteadily to his feet.
Thugs, Vin thought. The other two are probably Coinshots.
As if to prove her right, one of the men tried to Push away Vin's vial of
metals. Fortunately, there weren't enough metals in the vial to give him a
very good anchor, and she kept hold of it easily.
Shan turned her attention back to the skylight.
No you don't! Vin thought, dashing forward again.
The Coinshot cried out as she approached. Vin flipped a coin and shot it at
him. He, of course, Pushed back—but Vin anchored herself against the
bronze roof and flared Steel, Pushing with a firm effort.
The man's own Steelpush—transmitted from the coin, to Vin, to the roof—
launched him out into the air. He cried out, shooting off into the darkness. He
was only a Misting, and couldn't Pull himself back to the rooftop.
The other Coinshot tried to spray Vin with coins, but she deflected them
with ease. Unfortunately, he wasn't as foolish as his companion, and he
released the coins soon after Pushing them. However, it was obvious that he
couldn't hit her. Why did he keep—
The other Mistborn! Vin thought, ducking to a roll as a figure leaped from
the dark mists, glass knives flashing in the air.
Vin just barely got out of the way, flaring pewter to give herself balance.
She came to her feet beside the wounded Thug, who stood on obviously weak
legs. With another flare of pewter, Vin slammed her shoulder into the man's
chest, shoving him to the side.
The man stumbled maladroitly, still holding his bleeding side. Then he
tripped and fell right into the skylight. The fine, tinted glass shattered as he
fell, and Vin's tin-enhanced ears could hear cries of surprise from below,
followed by a crash as the Thug hit the ground.
Vin looked up, smiling evilly at the stunned Shan. Behind her, the second
Mistborn—a man—swore quietly.
"You . . . You . . ." Shan sputtered, her eyes flaring dangerously with anger
in the night.
Take the warning, Elend, Vin thought, and escape. It's time for me to go.
She couldn't face two Mistborn at once—she couldn't even beat Kelsier
most nights. Flaring Steel, Vin launched herself backward. Shan took a step
forward and—looking determined—Pushed herself after Vin. The second
Mistborn joined her.
Bloody hell! Vin thought, spinning in the air and Pulling herself to the
rooftop's edge near where she had broken the rose window. Below, figures
scrambled about, lanterns brightening the mists. Lord Venture probably
thought that the fuss meant his son was dead. He was in for a surprise.
Vin launched herself into the air again, jumping out into the misty void.
She could hear the two Mistborn land behind her, then push off as well.
This isn't good, Vin thought with trepidation as she hurled through the
misty air currents. She didn't have any coins left, nor did she have daggers—
and she faced two trained Mistborn.
She burned iron, searching frantically for an anchor in the night. A line of
blue, moving slowly, appeared beneath her to the right.
Vin yanked on the line, changing her trajectory. She shot downward, the
Venture grounds wall appearing as a dark shadow beneath her. Her anchor
was the breastplate of an unfortunate guard, who lay atop the wall, holding
frantically to a tooth in the battlements to keep himself from being pulled up
toward Vin.
Vin slammed feet-first into the man, then spun in the misty air, flipping to
land on the cool stone. The guard collapsed to the stone, then cried out,
desperately grabbing his stone anchor as another Allomantic force Pulled
against him.
Sorry, friend, Vin thought, kicking the man's hand free from the
battlement tooth. He immediately snapped upward, yanked into the air as if
pulled by a powerful tether.
The sound of bodies colliding sounded from the darkness above, and Vin
saw a pair of forms drop limply to the Venture courtyard. Vin smiled,
dashing along the wall. I sure hope that was Shan.
Vin jumped up, landing atop the gatehouse. Near the keep, people were
scattering, climbing in carriages to flee.
And so the house war starts, Vin thought. Didn't think I'd be the one to
officially begin it.
A figure plummeted toward her from the mists above. Vin cried out,
flaring pewter and jumping to the side. Shan landed dexterously—mistcloak
tassels billowing—atop the gatehouse. She had both daggers out, and her
eyes burned with anger.
Vin jumped to the side, rolling off the gatehouse and landing on the
walltop below. A pair of guards jumped back in alarm, surprised to see a
half-naked girl fall into their midst. Shan dropped to the wall behind them,
then Pushed, throwing one of the guards in Vin's direction.
The man cried out as Vin Pushed against his breastplate as well—but he
was far heavier than she, and she was thrown backward. She Pulled on the
guard to slow herself, and the man crashed down to the walltop. Vin landed
lithely beside him, then grabbed his staff as it rolled free from his hand.
Shan attacked in a flash of spinning daggers, and Vin was forced to jump
backward again. She's so good! Vin thought with anxiety. Vin herself had
barely trained with daggers; now she wished she'd asked Kelsier for a little
more practice. She swung the staff, but she'd never used one of the weapons
before, and her attack was laughable.
Shan slashed, and Vin felt a flare of pain in her cheek as she dodged. She
dropped the staff in shock, reaching up to her face and feeling blood. She
stumbled back, seeing the smile on Shan's face.
And then Vin remembered the vial. The one she still carried—the one
Kelsier had given her.
Atium.
She didn't bother to grab it from the place she had tucked it at her waist.
She burned steel, Pushing it out into the air in front of her. Then, she
immediately burned iron and yanked on the bead of atium. The vial shattered,
the bead heading back toward Vin. She caught it in her mouth, swallowing
the lump and forcing it down.
Shan paused. Then, before Vin could do anything, she downed a vial of her
own.
Of course she has atium!
But, how much did she have? Kelsier hadn't given Vin much—only
enough for about thirty seconds. Shan jumped forward, smiling, her long
black hair flaring in the air. Vin gritted her teeth. She didn't have much
choice.
She burned atium. Immediately, Shan's form shot forth dozens of phantom
atium shadows. It was a Mistborn standoff: The first one who ran out of
atium would be vulnerable. You couldn't escape an opponent who knew
exactly what you were going to do.
Vin scrambled backward, keeping an eye on Shan. The noblewoman
stalked forward, her phantoms forming an insane bubble of translucent
motion around her. She seemed calm. Secure.
She has plenty of atium, Vin thought, feeling her own storage burn away. I
need to get away.
A shadowy length of wood suddenly shot through Vin's chest. She ducked
to the side just as the real arrow—apparently made with no arrowhead—
passed through the air where she had been standing. She glanced toward the
gate-house, where several soldiers were raising bows.
She cursed, glancing to the side, into the mists. As she did so, she caught a
smile from Shan.
She's just waiting for my atium to burn out. She wants me to run—she
knows she can chase me down.
There was only one other option: attack.
Shan frowned in surprise as Vin dashed forward, phantom arrows snapping
against the stones just before their real counterparts arrived. Vin dodged
between two arrows—her atium enhanced mind knowing exactly how to
move—passing so close that she could feel the missiles in the air to either
side of her.
Shan swung her daggers, and Vin twisted to the side, dodging one slice and
blocking the other with her forearm, earning a deep gash. Her own blood flew
in the air as she spun—each droplet tossing out a translucent atium image—
and flared pewter, punching Shan square in the stomach.
Shan grunted in pain, bending slightly, but she didn't fall.
Atium's almost gone, Vin thought desperately. Only a few seconds left.
So, she extinguished her atium early, exposing herself.
Shan smiled wickedly, coming up from her crouch, right-hand dagger
swinging confidently. She assumed that Vin had run out of atium—and
therefore assumed that she was exposed. Vulnerable.
At that moment, Vin burned her last bit of atium. Shan paused just briefly
in confusion, giving Vin an opening as a phantom arrow streaked through the
mists overhead.
Vin caught the real arrow as it followed—the grainy wood burning her
fingers—then rammed it down into Shan's chest. The shaft snapped in Vin's
hand, leaving about an inch protruding from Shan's body. The woman
stumbled backward, staying on her feet.
Damn pewter, Vin thought, ripping a sword from a sheath beside the
unconscious soldier at her feet. She jumped forward, gritting her teeth in
determination, and Shan—still dazed—raised a hand to Push against the
sword.
Vin let the weapon go—it was just a distraction—as she slammed the
second half of the broken arrow into Shan's chest just beside its counterpart.
This time, Shan dropped. She tried to rise, but one of the shafts must have
done some serious damage to her heart, for her face paled. She struggled for a
moment, then fell lifeless to the stones.
Vin stood, breathing deeply as she wiped the blood from her cheek—only
to realize that her bloody arm was just making her face worse. Behind her,
the soldiers called out, nocking more arrows.
Vin glanced back toward the keep, bidding farewell to Elend, then Pushed
herself out into the night.
Other men worry whether or not they will be remembered. I have no such fears; even
disregarding the Terris prophecies, I have brought such chaos, conflict, and hope to this world
that there is little chance that I will be forgotten.
I worry about what they will say of me. Historians can make what they wish of the past. In a
thousand years' time, will I be remembered as the man who protected mankind from a powerful
evil? Or, will I be remembered as a tyrant who arrogantly tried to make himself a legend?
31
"I DON'T KNOW," KELSIER SAID, smiling as he shrugged. "Breeze would make a
pretty good Minister of Sanitation."
The group chuckled, though Breeze just rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I don't
see why I consistently prove to be the target of you people's humor. Why
must you choose the only dignified person in this crew as the butt of your
mockery?"
"Because, my dear man," Ham said, imitating Breeze's accent, "you are,
by far, the best butt we have."
"Oh, please," Breeze said as Spook nearly collapsed to the floor with
laughter. "This is just getting juvenile. The teenage boy was the only one who
found that comment amusing, Hammond."
"I'm a soldier," Ham said, raising his cup. "Your witty verbal attacks have
no effect on me, for I'm far too dense to understand them."
Kelsier chuckled, leaning back against the cupboard. One problem with
working at night was that he missed the evening gatherings in Clubs's
kitchen. Breeze and Ham continued their general banter. Dox sat at the end of
the table, going over ledgers and reports, while Spook sat by Ham eagerly,
trying his best to take part in the conversation. Clubs sat in his corner,
overseeing, occasionally smiling, and generally enjoying his ability to give
the best scowls in the room.
"I should be leaving, Master Kelsier," Sazed said, checking the wall clock.
"Mistress Vin should be about ready to leave."
Kelsier nodded. "I should get going myself. I still have to—"
The outside kitchen door slammed open. Vin stood silhouetted by the dark
mist, wearing nothing but her dressing undergarments—a flimsy white shirt
and shorts. Both were sprayed with blood.
"Vin!" Ham exclaimed, standing.
Her cheek bore a long, thin gash, and she had a bandage tied on one
forearm. "I'm fine," she said wearily.
"What happened to your dress?" Dockson immediately demanded.
"You mean this?" Vin asked apologetically, holding up a ripped, soot-
stained blue mass of cloth. "It . . . got in the way. Sorry, Dox."
"Lord Ruler, girl!" Breeze said. "Forget the dress—what happened to
you!"
Vin shook her head, shutting the door. Spook blushed furiously at her
outfit, and Sazed immediately moved over, checking the wound on her cheek.
"I think I did something bad," Vin said. "I . . . kind of killed Shan Elariel."
"You did what?" Kelsier asked as Sazed tisked quietly, leaving the small
cheek cut alone as he undid the bandage on her arm.
Vin flinched slightly at Sazed's ministrations. "She was Mistborn. We
fought. I won."
You killed a fully-trained Mistborn? Kelsier thought with shock. You've
practiced for barely eight months!
"Master Hammond," Sazed requested, "would you fetch my healer's bag?"
Ham nodded, rising.
"You might want to grab her something to wear too," Kelsier suggested. "I
think poor Spook's about to have a heart attack."
"What's wrong with this?" Vin asked, nodding toward her clothing. "It's
not that much more revealing than some of the thief's clothing I've worn."
"Those are undergarments, Vin," Dockson said.
"So?"
"It's the principle of the matter," Dockson said. "Young ladies do not run
around in their undergarments, no matter how much those undergarments
may resemble regular clothing."
Vin shrugged, sitting as Sazed held a bandage to her arm. She seemed . . .
exhausted. And not just from the fighting. What else happened at that party?
"Where did you fight the Elariel woman?" Kelsier asked.
"Outside Keep Venture," Vin said, looking down. "I . . . think some of the
guards spotted me. Some of the nobles might have too, I'm not certain."
"That's going to be trouble," Dockson said, sighing. "Of course, that cheek
wound is going to be pretty obvious, even with makeup. Honestly, you
Allomancers . . . Don't you ever worry about what you're going to look like
the day after you get into one of these fights?"
"I was kind of focused on staying alive, Dox," Vin said.
"He's just complaining because he's worried about you," Kelsier said as
Ham returned with the bag. "That's what he does."
"Both wounds will require immediate stitching, Mistress," Sazed said.
"The one on your arm hit the bone, I think."
Vin nodded, and Sazed rubbed her arm with a numbing agent, then began
to work. She bore it without much visible discomfort—though she obviously
had her pewter flared.
She looks so exhausted, Kelsier thought. She was such a frail-looking
thing, mostly just arms and legs. Hammond put a cloak around her shoulders,
but she appeared too tired to care.
And I brought her into this.
Of course, she should know better than to get herself into this kind of
trouble. Eventually, Sazed finished his efficient sewing, then tied a new
bandage around the arm wound. He moved onto the cheek.
"Why would you fight a Mistborn?" Kelsier asked sternly. "You should
have run. Didn't you learn anything from your battle with the Inquisitors?"
"I couldn't get away without turning my back on her," Vin said. "Besides,
she had more atium than me. If I hadn't attacked, she would have chased me
down. I had to strike while we were equally matched."
"But how did you get into this in the first place?" Kelsier demanded. "Did
she attack you?"
Vin glanced down at her feet. "I attacked first."
"Why?" Kelsier asked.
Vin sat for a moment, Sazed working on her cheek. "She was going to kill
Elend," she finally said.
Kelsier exhaled in exasperation. "Elend Venture? You risked your life—
risked the plan, and our lives—for that fool of a boy?"
Vin looked up, glaring at him. "Yes."
"What is wrong with you, girl?" Kelsier asked. "Elend Venture isn't worth
this."
She stood angrily, Sazed backing away, the cloak falling the floor. "He's a
good man!"
"He's a nobleman!"
"So are you!" Vin snapped. She waved a frustrated arm toward the kitchen
and the crew. "What do you think this is, Kelsier? The life of a skaa? What
do any of you know about skaa? Aristocratic suits, stalking your enemies in
the night, full meals and nightcaps around the table with your friends? That's
not the life of a skaa!"
She took a step forward, glaring at Kelsier. He blinked in surprise at the
outburst.
"What do you know about them, Kelsier?" she asked. "When's the last
time you slept in an alley, shivering in the cold rain, listening to the beggar
next to you cough with a sickness you knew would kill him? When's the last
time you had to lay awake at night, terrified that one of the men in your crew
would try to rape you? Have you ever knelt, starving, wishing you had the
courage to knife the crewmember beside you just so you could take his crust
of bread? Have you ever cowered before your brother as he beat you, all the
time feeling thankful because at least you had someone who paid attention to
you?"
She fell silent, puffing slightly, the crewmembers staring at her.
"Don't talk to me about noblemen," Vin said. "And don't say things about
people you don't know. You're no skaa—you're just noblemen without
titles."
She turned, stalking from the room. Kelsier watched her go, shocked,
hearing her footsteps on the stairs. He stood, dumbfounded, feeling a
surprising flush of ashamed guilt.
And, for once, found himself without anything to say.
Vin didn't go to her room. She climbed to the roof, where the mists curled in
the quiet, unlit night. She sat down in the corner, the rough stone lip of the
flat rooftop against her nearly bare back, wood beneath her.
She was cold, but she didn't care. Her arm hurt a bit, but it was mostly
numb. She didn't feel nearly numb enough herself.
She crossed her arms, huddling down, watching the mists. She didn't know
what to think, let alone what to feel. She shouldn't have exploded at Kelsier,
but everything that had happened . . . the fight, Elend's betrayal . . . it just left
her feeling frustrated. She needed to be angry at someone.
You should just be angry at yourself, Reen's voice whispered. You're the
one who let them get close. Now they're all just going to leave you.
She couldn't make it stop hurting. She could only sit and shiver as the tears
fell, wondering how everything had collapsed so quickly.
The trapdoor to the rooftop opened with a quiet creak, and Kelsier's head
appeared.
Oh, Lord Ruler! I don't want to face him now. She tried to wipe away her
tears, but she only succeeded in aggravating the freshly stitched wound on
her cheek.
Kelsier closed the trapdoor behind him, then stood, so tall and proud,
staring up at the mists. He didn't deserve the things I said. None of them did.
"Watching the mists is comforting, isn't it?" Kelsier asked.
Vin nodded.
"What is it I once told you? The mists protect you, they give you power . . .
they hide you. . . ."
He looked down, then he walked over and crouched before her, holding
out a cloak. "There are some things you can't hide from, Vin. I know—I've
tried."
She accepted the cloak, then wrapped it around her shoulders.
"What happened tonight?" he asked. "What really happened?"
"Elend told me that he didn't want to be with me anymore."
"Ah," Kelsier said, moving over to sit beside her. "Was this before or after
you killed his former fiancée?"
"Before," Vin said.
"And you still protected him?"
Vin nodded, sniffling quietly. "I know. I'm an idiot."
"No more than the rest of us," Kelsier said with a sigh. He looked up into
the mists. "I loved Mare too, even after she betrayed me. Nothing could
change how I felt."
"And that's why it hurts so much," Vin said, remembering what Kelsier
had said before. I think I finally understand.
"You don't stop loving someone just because they hurt you," he said. "It
would certainly make things easier if you did."
She started to sniffle again, and he put a fatherly arm around her. She
pulled close, trying to use his warmth to push away the pain.
"I loved him, Kelsier," she whispered.
"Elend? I know."
"No, not Elend," Vin said. "Reen. He beat me over, and over, and over. He
swore at me, he yelled at me, he told me he'd betray me. Every day, I thought
about how much I hated him.
"And I loved him. I still do. It hurts so much to think that he's gone, even
though he always told me he would leave."
"Oh, child," Kelsier said, pulling her close. "I'm sorry."
"Everyone leaves me," she whispered. "I can barely remember my mother.
She tried to kill me, you know. She heard voices, in her head, and they made
her kill my baby sister. She was probably going to kill me next, but Reen
stopped her.
"Either way, she left me. After that, I clung to Reen. He left too. I love
Elend, but he doesn't want me anymore." She looked up at Kelsier. "When
are you going to go? When will you leave me?"
Kelsier looked sorrowful. "I . . . Vin, I don't know. This job, the plan . . ."
She searched his eyes, looking for the secrets therein. What are you hiding
from me, Kelsier? Something that dangerous? She wiped her eyes again,
pulling away from him, feeling foolish.
He looked down, shaking his head. "Look, now you got blood all over my
nice, dirty, pretend informant's clothing."
Vin smiled. "At least some of it is noble blood. I got Shan pretty good."
Kelsier chuckled. "You're probably right about me, you know. I don't give
the nobility much of a chance, do I?"
Vin flushed. "Kelsier, I shouldn't have said those things. You're good
people, and this plan of yours . . . well, I realize what you're trying to do for
the skaa."
"No, Vin," Kelsier said, shaking his head. "What you said was true. We're
not really skaa."
"But, that's good," Vin said. "If you were regular skaa, you wouldn't have
the experience or courage to plan something like this."
"They might lack experience," Kelsier said. "But not courage. Our army
lost, true, but they were willing—with minimal training—to charge a superior
force. No, the skaa don't lack courage. Just opportunity."
"Then it's your position as half skaa, half nobleman that has given you
opportunity, Kelsier. And you've chosen to use that opportunity to help your
skaa half. That makes you worthy of being a skaa if anything does."
Kelsier smiled. "Worthy to be a skaa. I like the sound of that. Regardless,
perhaps I need to spend a little less time worrying about which noblemen to
kill, and a little more time worrying about which peasants to help."
Vin nodded, pulling the cloak close as she stared up into the mists. They
protect us. . . . give us power . . . hide us. . . .
She hadn't felt like she needed to hide in a long time. But now, after the
things she'd said below, she almost wished that she could just blow away like
a wisp of mist.
I need to tell him. It could mean the plan's success or failure. She took a
deep breath. "House Venture has a weakness, Kelsier."
He perked up. "It does?"
Vin nodded. "Atium. They make certain the metal is harvested and
delivered—it's the source of their wealth."
Kelsier paused for a moment. "Of course! That's how they can pay the
taxes, that's why they're so powerful. . . . He would need someone to handle
things for him. . . ."
"Kelsier?" Vin asked.
He looked back at her.
"Don't . . . do anything unless you have to, all right?"
Kelsier frowned. "I . . . don't know that I can promise anything, Vin. I'll
try and think of another way, but as things stand now, Venture has to fall."
"I understand."
"I'm glad you told me, though."
She nodded. And now I've betrayed him too. There was a peace in
knowing, however, that she hadn't done it out of spite. Kelsier was right:
House Venture was a power that needed to be toppled. Oddly, her mention of
the house seemed to bother Kelsier more than it did her. He sat, staring into
the mists, strangely melancholy. He reached down, absently scratching his
arm.
The scars, Vin thought. It isn't House Venture he's thinking about—it's the
Pits. Her. "Kelsier?" she said.
"Yes?" His eyes still looking a bit . . . absent as he watched the mists.
"I don't think that Mare betrayed you."
He smiled. "I'm glad you think that way."
"No, I really mean it," Vin said. "The Inquisitors were waiting for you
when you got to the center of the palace, right?"
Kelsier nodded.
"They were waiting for us too."
Kelsier shook his head. "You and I fought some guards, made some noise.
When Mare and I went in, we were quiet. We'd planned for a year—we were
stealthy, secretive, and very careful. Someone set a trap for us."
"Mare was an Allomancer, right?" Vin asked. "They could have just
sensed you coming."
Kelsier shook his head. "We had a Smoker with us. Redd was his name—
the Inquisitors killed him straight off. I've wondered if he was the traitor, but
that just doesn't work. Redd didn't even know about the infiltration until that
night, when we went and got him. Only Mare knew enough—dates, times,
objectives—to have betrayed us. Besides, there's the Lord Ruler's comment.
You didn't see him, Vin. Smiling as he thanked Mare. There was . . . honesty
in his eyes. They say the Lord Ruler doesn't lie. Why would he need to?"
Vin sat quietly for a moment, considering what he'd said. "Kelsier," she
said slowly, "I think that Inquisitors can sense our Allomancy even when
we're burning copper."
"Impossible."
"I did it tonight. I punctured Shan's coppercloud to locate her and the other
assassins. That's how I got to Elend in time."
Kelsier frowned. "You've got to be mistaken."
"It happened before too," Vin said. "I can feel the Lord Ruler's touch on
my emotions, even when I'm burning copper. And I swear that when I was
hiding from that Inquisitor who was hunting me, he found me when he
shouldn't have been able to. Kelsier, what if it's possible? What if hiding
yourself by Smoking isn't just a simple matter of whether or not your copper
is on? What if it just depends on how strong you are?"
Kelsier sat thoughtfully. "It could be possible, I suppose."
"Then Mare wouldn't have had to betray you!" Vin said eagerly.
"Inquisitors are extremely powerful. The ones who were waiting for you,
maybe they just felt you burning metals! They knew that an Allomancer was
trying to sneak into the palace. Then, the Lord Ruler thanked her because she
was the one who gave you away! She was the Allomancer, burning tin, that
led them to you."
Kelsier's face took on a troubled expression. He turned, sitting himself so
he was directly in front of her. "Do it now, then. Tell me what metal I'm
burning."
Vin closed her eyes, flaring bronze, listening . . . feeling, as Marsh had
taught her. She remembered her solitary trainings, time spent focusing on the
waves Breeze, Ham, or Spook gave off for her. She tried to pick out the
fuzzing rhythm of Allomancy. Tried to . . .
For a moment, she thought she felt something. Something very strange—a
slow pulsing, like a distant drum, unlike any Allomantic rhythm she'd felt
before. But it wasn't coming from Kelsier. It was distant . . . far away. She
focused harder, trying to pick out the direction it was coming from.
But suddenly, as she focused harder, something else drew her attention. A
more familiar rhythm, coming from Kelsier. It was faint, difficult to feel over
the pulsing of her own heartbeat. It was a bold beat, and quick.
She opened her eyes. "Pewter! You're burning pewter."
Kelsier blinked in surprise. "Impossible," he whispered. "Again!"
She closed her eyes. "Tin," she said after a moment. "Now steel—you
changed as soon as I spoke."
"Bloody hell!"
"I was right," Vin said eagerly. "You can feel Allomantic pulses through
copper! They're quiet, but I guess you just have to focus hard enough to—"
"Vin," Kelsier interrupted. "Don't you think Allomancers have tried this
before? You don't think that after a thousand years'time, someone would
have noticed that you could pierce a coppercloud? I've even tried it. I focused
for hours on my Master, trying to sense something through his coppercloud."
"But . . ." Vin said. "But why . . .?"
"It must have to do with strength, like you said. Inquisitors can Push and
Pull harder than any regular Mistborn—perhaps they're so strong that they
can overwhelm someone else's metal."
"But, Kelsier," Vin said quietly. "I'm not an Inquisitor."
"But you're strong," he said. "Stronger than you have any right to be. You
killed a full Mistborn tonight!"
"By luck," Vin said, face flushing. "I just tricked her."
"Allomancy is nothing but tricks, Vin. No, there's something special about
you. I noticed it on that first day, when you shrugged off my attempts to Push
and Pull your emotions."
She flushed. "It can't be that, Kelsier. Maybe I've just practiced with
bronze more than you. . . . I don't know, I just . . ."
"Vin," Kelsier said, "you're still too self-effacing. You're good at this—
that much is obvious. If that's why you can see through copperclouds . . .
well, I don't know. But learn to take a little pride in yourself, kid! If there's
anything I can teach you, it's how to be self-confident."
Vin smiled.
"Come on," he said, standing and holding out a hand to help her up.
"Sazed is going to fret all night if you don't let him finish stitching that cheek
wound, and Ham's dying to hear about your battle. Good job leaving Shan's
body back at Keep Venture, by the way—when House Elariel hears that she
was found dead on Venture property . . ."
Vin allowed him to pull her up, but she glanced toward the trapdoor
apprehensively. "I . . . don't know if I want to go down yet, Kelsier. How can
I face them?"
Kelsier laughed. "Oh, don't worry. If you didn't say some stupid things
every once in a while, you certainly wouldn't fit in with this group. Come
on."
Vin hesitated, then let him lead her back down to the warmth of the
kitchen.
"Elend, how can you read at times like this?" Jastes asked.
Elend looked up from his book. "It calms me."
Jastes raised an eyebrow. The young Lekal sat impatiently in the coach,
tapping his fingers on the armrest. The window shades were drawn, partially
to hide the light of Elend's reading lantern, partially to keep out the mists.
Though Elend would never admit it, the swirling fog made him just a bit
nervous. Noblemen weren't supposed to be afraid of such things, but that
didn't change the fact that the deep, caliginous mist was just plain creepy.
"Your father is going to be livid when you get back," Jastes noted, still
tapping the armrest.
Elend shrugged, though this comment did make him a little bit nervous.
Not because of his father, but because of what had happened this night. Some
Allomancers had, apparently, been spying on Elend's meeting with his
friends. What information had they gathered? Did they know about the books
he'd read?
Fortunately, one of them had tripped, falling through Elend's skylight.
After that, it had been confusion and chaos—soldiers and ballgoers running
about in a semi-panic. Elend's first thought had been for the books—the
dangerous ones, the ones that if the obligators found he possessed, could get
him into serious trouble.
So, in the confusion, he'd dumped them all in a bag and followed Jastes
down to the palace side exit. Grabbing a carriage and sneaking out of the
palace grounds had been an extreme move, perhaps, but it had been
ridiculously easy. With the number of carriages fleeing the Venture grounds,
not a single person had paused to notice that Elend himself was in the
carriage with Jastes.
It's probably all died down by now, Elend told himself. People will realize
that House Venture wasn't trying to attack them, and that there wasn't really
any danger. Just some spies who got careless.
He should have returned by now. However, his convenient absence from
the palace gave him a perfect excuse to check on another group of spies. And
this time, Elend himself had sent them.
A sudden knock on the door made Jastes jump, and Elend closed his book,
then opened the carriage door. Felt, one of the House Venture chief spies,
climbed into the carriage, nodding his hawkish, mustached face respectfully
to Elend, then Jastes.
"Well?" Jastes asked.
Felt sat down with the keen litheness of his kind. "The building is
ostensibly a woodcrafter's shop, m'lord. One of my men has heard of the
place—it's run by one Master Cladent, a skaa carpenter of no small skill."
Elend frowned. "Why did Valette's steward come here?"
"We think that the shop is a front, m'lord," Felt said. "We've been
observing it ever since the steward led us here, as you ordered. However,
we've had to be very careful—there are several watchnests hidden on its roof
and top floors."
Elend frowned. "An odd precaution for a simple craftsman's shop, I should
think."
Felt nodded. "That's not the half of it, m'lord. We managed to sneak one
of our best men up to the building itself—we don't think he was spotted—but
he had a remarkably difficult time hearing what's going on inside. The
windows are sealed and stuffed to keep in sound."
Another odd precaution, Elend thought. "What do you think it means?" he
asked Felt.
"It's got to be an underground hideout, m'lord," Felt said. "And a good
one. If we hadn't been watching carefully, and been certain what to look for,
we would never have noticed the signs. My guess is that the men inside—
even the Terrisman—are members of a skaa thieving crew. A very well-
funded and skilled one."
"A skaa thieving crew?" Jastes asked. "And Lady Valette too?"
"Likely, m'lord," Felt said.
Elend paused. "A . . . skaa thieving crew . . ." he said, stunned. Why would
they send one of their members to balls? To perform a scam of some sort,
perhaps?
"M'lord?" Felt asked. "Do you want us to break in? I've got enough men
to take their entire crew."
"No," Elend said. "Call your men back, and tell no one of what you've
seen this night."
"Yes, m'lord," Felt said, climbing out of the coach.
"Lord Ruler!" Jastes said as the carriage door closed. "No wonder she
didn't seem like a regular noblewoman. It wasn't her rural upbringing—she's
just a thief!"
Elend nodded, thoughtful, not certain what to think.
"You owe me an apology," Jastes said. "I was right about her, eh?"
"Perhaps," Elend said. "But . . . in a way, you were wrong about her too.
She wasn't trying to spy on me—she was just trying to rob me."
"So?"
"I . . . need to think about this," Elend said, reaching out and knocking for
the carriage to start moving. He sat back as the coach began to roll back
toward Keep Venture.
Valette wasn't the person that she'd said she was. However, he'd already
prepared himself for that news. Not only had Jastes's words about her made
him suspicious, Valette herself hadn't denied Elend's accusations earlier in
the night. It was obvious; she had been lying to him. Playing a part.
He should have been furious. He realized this, logically, and a piece of him
did ache of betrayal. But, oddly, the primary emotion he felt was one of . . .
relief.
"What?" Jastes asked, studying Elend with a frown.
Elend shook his head. "You've had me worrying over this for days, Jastes.
I felt so sick that I could barely function—all because I thought that Valette
was a traitor."
"But she is. Elend, she's probably trying to scam you!"
"Yes," Elend said, "but at least she probably isn't a spy for another house.
In the face of all the intrigue, politics, and backbiting that has been going on
lately, something as simple as a robbery feels slightly refreshing."
"But . . ."
"It's only money, Jastes."
"Money is kind of important to some of us, Elend."
"Not as important as Valette. That poor girl . . . all this time, she must have
been worrying about the scam she would have to pull on me!"
Jastes sat for a moment, then he finally shook his head. "Elend, only you
would be relieved to find out that someone was trying to steal from you.
Need I remind you that the girl has been lying this entire time? You might
have grown attached to her, but I doubt her own feelings are genuine."
"You may be right," Elend admitted. "But . . . I don't know, Jastes. I feel
like I know this girl. Her emotions . . . they just seem too real, too honest, to
be false."
"Doubtful," Jastes said.
Elend shook his head. "We don't have enough information to judge her
yet. Felt thinks she's a thief, but there have to be other reasons a group like
that would send someone to balls. Maybe she's just an informant. Or, maybe
she is a thief—but not one who ever intended to rob me. She spent an awful
lot of time mixing with the other nobility—why would she do that if I was
her target? In fact, she spent relatively little time with me, and she never plied
me for gifts."
He paused—imagining his meeting Valette as a pleasant accident, an event
that had thrown a terrible twist into both of their lives. He smiled, then shook
his head. "No, Jastes. There's more here than we're seeing. Something about
her still doesn't make sense."
"I . . . suppose, El," Jastes said, frowning.
Elend sat upright, a sudden thought occurring to him—a thought that made
his speculations about Valette's motivation seem far less important. "Jastes,"
he said. "She's skaa!"
"And?"
"And she fooled me—fooled us both. She acted the part of an aristocrat
almost perfectly."
"An inexperienced aristocrat, perhaps."
"I had a real skaa thief with me!" Elend said. "Think of the questions I
could have asked her."
"Questions? What kind of questions?"
"Questions about being skaa," Elend said. "That's not the point. Jastes, she
fooled us. If we can't tell the difference between a skaa and a noblewoman,
that means that the skaa can't be very different from us. And, if they're not
that different from us, what right do we have treating them as we do?"
Jastes shrugged. "Elend, I don't think you're looking at this in perspective.
We're in the middle of a house war."
Elend nodded distractedly. I was so hard on her this evening. Too hard?
He had wanted her to believe, totally and completely, that he didn't want
anything more to do with her. Part of that had been genuine, for his own
worries had convinced him that she couldn't be trusted. And she couldn't be,
not at the moment. Either way, he'd wanted her to leave the city. He'd
thought that the best thing to do was break off the relationship until the house
war was through.
But, assuming she's really not a noblewoman, then there's no reason for
her to leave.
"Elend?" Jastes asked. "Are you even paying attention to me?"
Elend looked up. "I think I did something wrong tonight. I wanted to get
Valette out of Luthadel. But, now I think I hurt her for no reason."
"Bloody hell, Elend!" Jastes said. "Allomancers were listening to our
conference this night. Do you realize what could have happened? What if
they'd decided to kill us, rather than just spy on us?"
"Ah, yes, you're right," Elend said with a distracted nod. "It's best if
Valette leaves anyway. Anyone close to me will be in danger during the days
to come."
Jastes paused, his annoyance deepening, then he finally laughed. "You're
hopeless."
"I try my best," Elend said. "But, seriously, there's no use worrying. The
spies gave themselves away, and likely got chased off—or even captured—in
the chaos. We now know some of the secrets that Valette is hiding, so we're
ahead there too. It's been a very productive night!"
"That's an optimistic way of looking at it, I guess. . . ."
"Once again, I try my best." Even still, he would feel more comfortable
when they got back to Keep Venture. Perhaps it had been foolhardy to sneak
away from the palace before hearing the details of what had happened, but
Elend hadn't exactly been thinking carefully at the time. Besides, he'd had
the previously arranged meeting with Felt to attend, and the chaos had made
a perfect opportunity to slip away.
The carriage slowly pulled up to the Venture gates. "You should go,"
Elend said, slipping out of the carriage door. "Take the books."
Jastes nodded, grabbing the sack, then bidding Elend farewell as he shut
the carriage door. Elend waited as the carriage rolled back away from the
gates, then he turned and walked the rest of the way to the keep, the surprised
gate guards letting him pass with ease.
The grounds were still ablaze with light. Guards were already waiting for
him at the front of the keep, and a group of them rushed out into the mists to
meet him. And surround him.
"My lord, your father—"
"Yes," Elend interrupted, sighing. "I assume I'm to be taken to him
immediately?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Lead on, then, Captain."
They entered through the lord's entrance on the side of the building. Lord
Straff Venture stood in his study, speaking with a group of guard officers.
Elend could tell from the pale faces that they had received a firm scolding,
perhaps even threats of beatings. They were noblemen, so Venture couldn't
execute them, but he was very fond of the more brutal disciplinary forms.
Lord Venture dismissed the soldiers with a sharp gesture, then turned to
Elend with hostile eyes. Elend frowned, watching the soldiers go. Everything
all seemed a little too . . . tense.
"Well?" Lord Venture demanded.