achieved.
Tomorrow, we begin the final stage of our pilgrimage—
the Far Mountains of Terris. There, hopefully, I will find
peace—both for myself, and for our poor land.
AS SHE READ HER COPY of the logbook, Vin was quickly coming to several decisions. First was the firm belief that she did not like reading. Sazed didn’t listen to her complaints; he just claimed that she hadn’t practiced enough. Couldn’t he see that reading was hardly as practical a skill as being able to handle a dagger or use Allomancy?
Still, she continued to read as per his orders—if only to stubbornly prove that she could. Many of the logbook’s words were difficult to her, and she had to read in a secluded part of Renoux’s mansion where she could sound out the words to herself, trying to decipher the Lord Ruler’s odd style of writing.
The continued reading led to her second conclusion: The Lord Ruler was far more whiny than any god had a right to be. When pages of the logbook weren’t filled with boring notes about the Lord Ruler’s travels, they were instead packed with internal contemplations and lengthy moralistic ramblings. Vin was beginning to wish that she’d never found the book in the first place.
She sighed, settling back into her wicker chair. A cool early-spring breeze blew through the lower gardens, passing over the petite fountain brook to her left. The air was comfortably moist, and the trees overhead shaded her from the afternoon sun. Being nobility—even fake nobility—certainly did have its perks.
A quiet footfall sounded behind her. It was distant, but Vin had grown into the habit of burning a little bit of tin at all times. She turned, shooting a covert glance over her shoulder.
“Spook?” she said with surprise as young Lestibournes walked down the garden path. “What are you doing here?”
Spook froze, blushing. “Wasing with the Dox to come and be without the stay.”
“Dockson?” Vin said. “He’s here too?” Maybe he has news of Kelsier!
Spook nodded, approaching. “Weapons for the getting, giving for the time to be.”
Vin paused. “You lost me on that one.”
“We needed the drop off some more weapons,” Spook said, struggling to speak without his dialect. “Storing them here for a while.”
“Ah,” Vin said, rising and brushing off her dress. “I should go see him.”
Spook looked suddenly apprehensive, flushing again, and Vin cocked her head. “Was there something else?”
With a sudden movement, Spook reached into his vest and pulled something out. Vin flared pewter in response, but the item was simply a pink-and-white handkerchief. Spook thrust it toward her.
Vin took it hesitantly. “What’s this for?”
Spook flushed again, then turned and dashed away.
Vin watched him go, dumbfounded. She looked down at the handkerchief. It was made of soft lace, but there didn’t seem to be anything unusual about it.
That is one strange boy, she thought, tucking the handkerchief inside her sleeve. She picked up her copy of the logbook, then began to work her way up the garden path. She was growing so accustomed to wearing a dress that she barely had to pay attention to keep the gown’s lower layers from brushing against underbrush or stones.
I guess that in itself is a valuable skill, Vin thought as she reached the mansion’s garden entrance without having snagged her dress on a single branch. She pushed open the many-paned glass door and stopped the first servant she saw.
“Master Delton has arrived?” she asked, using Dockson’s fake name. He played the part of one of Renoux’s merchant contacts inside Luthadel.
“Yes, my lady,” the servant said. “He’s in conference with Lord Renoux.”
Vin let the servant go. She could probably force her way into the conference, but it would look bad. Lady Valette had no reason to attend a mercantile meeting between Renoux and Delton.
Vin chewed her lower lip in thought. Sazed was always telling her she had to keep up appearances. Fine, she thought. I’ll wait. Maybe Sazed can tell me what that crazy boy expects me to do with this handkerchief.
She sought out the upper library, maintaining a pleasant ladylike smile, inwardly trying to guess what Renoux and Dockson were talking about. Dropping off the weapons was an excuse; Dockson wouldn’t have come personally to do something so mundane. Perhaps Kelsier had been delayed. Or, maybe Dockson had finally gotten a communication from Marsh—Kelsier’s brother, along with the other new obligator initiates, should be arriving back in Luthadel soon.
Dockson and Renoux could have sent for me, she thought with annoyance. Valette often entertained guests with her uncle.
She shook her head. Even though Kelsier had named her a full member of the crew, the others obviously still regarded her as something of a child. They were friendly and accepting, but they didn’t think to include her. It was probably unintentional, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating.
Light shone from the library ahead. Sure enough, Sazed sat inside, translating the last group of pages from the logbook. He looked up as Vin entered, smiling and nodding respectfully.
No spectacles this time either, Vin noted. Why did he wear them for that short time before?
“Mistress Vin,” he said, rising and fetching her a chair. “How are your studies of the logbook going?”
Vin looked down at the loosely bound pages in her hand. “All right, I suppose. I don’t see why I have to bother reading them—you gave copies to Kell and Breeze too, didn’t you?”
“Of course,” Sazed said, setting the chair down beside his desk. “However, Master Kelsier asked every member of the crew to read the pages. He is correct to do so, I think. The more eyes that read those words, the more likely we will be to discover the secrets hidden within them.”
Vin sighed slightly, smoothing her dress and seating herself. The white and blue dress was beautiful—though intended for daily use, it was only slightly less luxurious than one of her ball gowns.
“You must admit, Mistress,” Sazed said as he sat, “the text is amazing. This work is a Keeper’s dream. Why, I’m discovering things about my culture that even I did not know!”
Vin nodded. “I just got to the part where they reach Terris.” Hopefully, the next part will contain fewer supply lists. Honestly, for an evil god of darkness, he certainly can be dull.
“Yes, yes,” Sazed said, speaking with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. “Did you see what he said, how he described Terris as a place of ‘green fertility’? Keeper legends speak of this. Terris is now a tundra of frozen dirt—why, almost no plants can survive there. But, once it was green and beautiful, like the text says.”
Green and beautiful, Vin thought. Why would green be beautiful? That would be like having blue or purple plants— it would just be weird.
However, there was something about the logbook that made her curious—something that both Sazed and Kelsier had been strangely closemouthed about. “I just read the part where the Lord Ruler gets some Terris packmen,” Vin said carefully. “He talked about how they grow stronger during the day because they let themselves be weak at night.”
Sazed suddenly grew more subdued. “Yes, indeed.”
“You know something about this? Does it have to do with being a Keeper?”
“It does,” Sazed said. “But, this should remain a secret, I think. Not that you aren’t worthy of trust, Mistress Vin. However, if fewer people know about Keepers, then fewer rumors will be told of us. It would be best if the Lord Ruler began to believe that he had destroyed us completely, as has been his goal for the last thousand years.”
Vin shrugged. “Fine. Hopefully, none of the secrets Kelsier wants us to discover in this text are related to the Terrisman powers—if they are, I’ll miss them completely.”
Sazed paused.
“Ah, well,” Vin said nonchalantly, flipping through the pages she hadn’t read. “Looks like he spends a lot of time talking about the Terrismen. Guess I won’t be able to give
much input when Kelsier gets back.”
“You make a good point,” Sazed said slowly. “Even if you make it a bit melodramatically.”
Vin smiled pertly.
“Very well,” Sazed said with a sigh. “We should not have let you spend so much time with Master Breeze, I think.”
“The men in the logbook,” Vin said. “They’re Keepers?”
Sazed nodded. “What we now call Keepers were far more common back then—perhaps even more common than Mistings are among modern nobility. Our art is called ‘Feruchemy,’ and it grants the ability to store certain physical attributes inside bits of metal.”
Vin frowned. “You burn metals too?”
“No, Mistress,” Sazed said with a shake of his head. “Feruchemists aren’t like Allomancers—we don’t ‘burn’ away our metals. We use them as storage. Each piece of metal, dependent upon size and alloy, can store a certain physical quality. The Feruchemist saves up an attribute, then draws upon that reserve at a later time.”
“Attribute?” Vin asked. “Like strength?”
Sazed nodded. “In the text, the Terris packmen make themselves weaker during the evening, storing up strength in their bracelets for use on the next day.”
Vin studied Sazed’s face. “That’s why you wear so many earrings!”
“Yes, Mistress,” he said, reaching over to pull up his sleeves. Underneath his robe, he wore thick iron bracers around his upper arms. “I keep some of my reserves hidden—but wearing many rings, earrings, and other items of jewelry has always been a part of Terris culture. The Lord Ruler once tried to enforce a ban upon Terrismen touching or owning any metal—in fact, he tried to make wearing metal a noble privilege, rather than a skaa one.”
Vin frowned. “That’s odd,” she said. “One would think that the nobility wouldn’t want to wear metal, because that would make them vulnerable to Allomancy.”
“Indeed,” Sazed said. “However, it has long been imperial fashion to accent one’s wardrobe with metal. It began, I suspect, with the Lord Ruler’s desire to deny the Terrismen the right to touch metal. He himself began wearing metal rings and bracelets, and the nobility always follows him in fashion. Nowadays, the most wealthy often wear metal as a symbol of power and pride.”
“Sounds foolish,” Vin said.
“Fashion often is, Mistress,” Sazed said. “Regardless, the ploy failed—many of the nobility only wear wood painted to look like metal, and the Terris managed to weather the Lord Ruler’s discontent in this area. It was simply too impractical to never let stewards handle metal. That hasn’t stopped the Lord Ruler from trying to exterminate the Keepers, however.”
“He fears you.”
“And hates us. Not just Feruchemists, but all Terrismen.” Sazed laid a hand on the still untranslated portion of the text. “I hope to find that secret in here as well. No one remembers why the Lord Ruler persecutes the Terris people, but I suspect that it has something to do with those packmen—their leader, Rashek, appears to be a very contrary man. The Lord Ruler often speaks of him in the narrative.”
“He mentioned religion,” Vin said. “The Terris religion. Something about prophecies?”
Sazed shook his head. “I cannot answer that question, Mistress, for I don’t know any more of the Terris religion than you do.”
“But, you collect religions,” Vin said. “You don’t know about your own?”
“I do not,” Sazed said solemnly. “You see, Mistress, this was why the Keepers were formed. Centuries ago, my people hid away the last few Terris Feruchemists. The Lord Ruler’s purges of the Terris people were growing quite violent—this was before he began the breeding program. Back then, we weren’t stewards or servants—we weren’t even skaa. We were something to be destroyed.
“Yet, something kept the Lord Ruler from wiping us out completely. I don’t know why—perhaps he thought genocide too kind a punishment. Anyway, he successfully destroyed our religion during the first two centuries of his rule. The organization of Keepers was formed during the next century, its members intent upon discovering that which had been lost,
then remembering for the future.”
“With Feruchemy?”
Sazed nodded, rubbing his fingers across the bracer on his right arm. “This one is made of copper; it allows for the storage of memories and thoughts. Each Keeper carries several bracers like this, filled with knowledge—songs, stories, prayers, histories, and languages. Many Keepers have a particular area of interest—mine is religion—but we all remember the entire collection. If just one of us survives until the death of the Lord Ruler, then the world’s people will be able to recover all that they have lost.”
He paused, then pulled down his sleeve. “Well, not all that was lost. There are still things we are missing.”
“Your own religion,” Vin said quietly. “You never found it, did you?”
Sazed shook his head. “The Lord Ruler implies in this logbook that it was our prophets that led him to the Well of Ascension, but even this is new information for us. What did we believe? What, or whom, did we worship? Where did these Terris prophets come from, and how did they predict the future?”
“I’m... sorry.”
“We continue to look, Mistress. We will find our answers eventually, I think. Even if we do not, we will still have provided an invaluable service for mankind. Other people call us docile and servile, but we have fought him, in our own way.”
Vin nodded. “So, what other things can you store? Strength and memories. Anything else?”
Sazed eyed her. “I have said too much already, I think. You understand the mechanics of what we do—if the Lord Ruler mentions these things in his text, you will not be confused.”
“Sight,” Vin said, perking up. “That’s why you wore glasses for a few weeks after you rescued me. You needed to be able to see better that night when you saved me, so you used up your storage. Then you spent a few weeks with weak vision so that you could refill it.”
Sazed didn’t respond to the comment. He picked up his pen, obviously intending to turn back to his translation. “Was there anything else, Mistress?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Vin said, pulling the handkerchief from her sleeve. “Do you have any idea what this is?”
“It appears to be a handkerchief, Mistress.”
Vin raised a droll eyebrow. “Very funny. You’ve spent far too long around Kelsier, Sazed.”
“I know,” he said with a quiet sigh. “He has corrupted me, I think. Regardless, I do not understand your question. What is distinctive about that particular handkerchief?”
“That’s what I want to know,” Vin said. “Spook gave it to me just a little bit ago.”
“Ah. That makes sense, then.”
“What?” Vin demanded.
“In noble society, Mistress, a handkerchief is the traditional gift a young man gives a lady that he wishes to seriously court.”
Vin paused, regarding the handkerchief with shock. “What? Is that boy crazy?”
“Most young men his age are somewhat crazy, I think,” Sazed said with a smile. “However, this is hardly unexpected. Haven’t you noticed how he stares at you when you enter the room?”
“I just thought he was creepy. What is he thinking? He’s so much younger than me.”
“The boy is fifteen, Mistress. That only makes him one year your junior.”
“Two,” Vin said. “I turned seventeen last week.”
“Still, he isn’t really that much younger than you.”
Vin rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for his attentions.”
“One would think, Mistress, that you would appreciate the opportunities you have. Not everyone is so fortunate.”
Vin paused. He’s a eunuch, you fool. “Sazed, I’m sorry. I...”
Sazed waved a hand. “It is something I have never known enough of to miss, Mistress. Perhaps I am fortunate—a life in the underground does not make it easy to raise a family. Why, poor Master Hammond h
as been away from his wife for months.”
“Ham’s married?”
“Of course,” Sazed said. “So is Master Yeden, I believe. They protect their families by separating them from underground activities, but this necessitates spending large periods
of time apart.”
“Who else?” Vin asked. “Breeze? Dockson?”
“Master Breeze is a bit too... self-motivated for a family, I think. Master Dockson hasn’t spoken of his romantic life, but I suspect that there is something painful in his past. That is not uncommon for plantation skaa, as you might expect.”
“Dockson is from a plantation?” Vin asked with surprise.
“Of course. Don’t you ever spend time talking with your friends, Mistress?”
Friends. I have friends. It was an odd realization.
“Anyway,” Sazed said, “I should continue my work. I am sorry to be so dismissive, but I am nearly finished with the translation....”
“Of course,” Vin said, standing and smoothing her dress. “Thank you.”
She found Dockson sitting in the guest study, writing quietly on a piece of paper, a pile of documents organized neatly on the desktop. He wore a standard nobleman’s suit, and always looked more comfortable in the clothing than the others did. Kelsier was dashing, Breeze immaculate and lavish, but Dockson...he simply looked natural in the outfit.
He looked up as she entered. “Vin? I’m sorry—I should have sent for you. For some reason I assumed you were out.”
“I often am, these days,” she said, closing the door behind her. “I stayed home today; listening to noblewomen prattle over their lunches can get a bit annoying.”
“I can imagine,” Dockson said, smiling. “Have a seat.”
Vin nodded, strolling into the room. It was a quiet place, decorated in warm colors and deep woods. It was still somewhat light outside, but Dockson already had the evening drapes drawn and was working by candlelight.
“Any news from Kelsier?” Vin asked as she sat.
“No,” Dockson said, setting aside his document. “But that’s not unexpected. He wasn’t going to stay at the caves for long, so sending a messenger back would have been a bit silly—as an Allomancer, he might even be able to get back before a man on horseback. Either way, I suspect he’ll be a few days late. This is Kell we’re talking about, after all.”
Mistborn Page 40
