Mistborn

by Brandon Sanderson

  Then, blissfully, she hopped up onto the railing and threw herself out into the dark mists.

  Tin gave her sight as the wind flapped at her dress. Pewter gave her strength as she turned her eyes toward the buttresslike wall running between the tower and the main keep.

  Steel gave her power as she threw a coin downward, sending it into the darkness.

  She lurched in the air. The air resistance fluttered her dress, and she felt like she was trying to pull a bale of cloth behind her, but her Allomancy was strong enough to deal with that. Elend’s tower was the next one over; she needed to get onto the walltop walkway that ran between it and the central tower. Vin flared steel, Pushing herself up a bit higher, then flung another coin into the mists behind her. When it hit the wall, she used it to shoot herself forward.

  She slammed into her target wall just a bit too low—folds of cloth cushioning the blow—but she managed to grab the lip of the walkway above. An unenhanced Vin would have had trouble pulling herself up onto the wall, but Vin the Allomancer easily scrambled over the side.

  She crouched in her black dress, moving quietly across the walltop pathway. There were no guards, but the tower ahead of her had a lit sentrypost at its base.

  Can’t go that way, she thought, glancing upward instead. The tower appeared to have several rooms, and a couple of them were lit. Vin dropped a coin and catapulted herself upward, then Pulled against a window mounting and yanked herself over to land lightly on the stone window ledge. The shutters were closed against the night, and she had to lean close, flaring tin, to hear what was going on inside.

  “. . . balls always last well into the night. We’ll probably have to pull double duty.”

  Guards, Vin thought, jumping and Pushing against the top of the window. It rattled as she shot up the side of the tower. She caught the base of the next window ledge and pulled herself up.

  “. . . don’t regret my tardiness,” a familiar voice said from inside. Elend. “She happens to be far more attractive than you are, Telden.”

  A masculine voice laughed. “The mighty Elend Venture, finally captured by a pretty face.”

  “She’s more than that, Jastes,” Elend said. “She’s kindhearted—she helped skaa runaways on her plantation. I think we should bring her in to talk with us.”

  “Not a chance,” said a deep-voiced man. “Look, Elend, I don’t mind if you want to talk philosophy. Hell, I’ll even share a few drinks with you when you do. But I’m not going to let random people come join us.”

  “I agree with Telden,” Jastes said. “Five people is enough.”

  “See, now,” Elend’s voice said. “I don’t think you’re being fair.”

  “Elend...” another voice said sufferingly.

  “All right,” Elend said. “Telden, did you read the book I gave you?”

  “I tried,” Telden said. “It’s a bit thick.”

  “But it’s good, right?” Elend said.

  “Good enough,” Telden said. “I can see why the Lord Ruler hates it so much.”

  “Redalevin’s works are better,” Jastes said. “More concise.”

  “I don’t mean to be contrary,” said a fifth voice. “But, is this all we’re going to do? Read?”

  “What’s wrong with reading?” Elend asked.

  “It’s a bit boring,” the fifth voice said.

  Good man, Vin thought.

  “Boring?” Elend asked. “Gentlemen, these ideas—these words—they’re everything. These men knew that they’d be executed for their words. Can you not sense their passion?”

  “Passion, yes,” the fifth voice said. “Usefulness, no.”

  “We can change the world,” Jastes said. “Two of us are house heirs, the other three are second heirs.”

  “Someday, we’ll be the ones in charge,” Elend said. “If we put these ideas into effect—fairness, diplomacy, moderation— we can exert pressure even on the Lord Ruler!”

  The fifth voice snorted. “You might be heir to a powerful house, Elend, but the rest of us aren’t as important. Telden and Jastes will probably never inherit, and Kevoux—no offense—is hardly that influential. We can’t change the world.”

  “We can change the way our houses work,” Elend said. “If the houses would stop squabbling, we might be able to gain some real power in the government—rather than just bow to the whims of the Lord Ruler.”

  “Every year, the nobility grows weaker,” Jastes said in agreement. “Our skaa belong to the Lord Ruler, as does our land. His obligators determine who we can marry and what we can believe. Our canals, even, are officially ‘his’ property. Ministry assassins kill men who speak out too openly, or who are too successful. This is no way to live.”

  “I agree with you there,” Telden said. “Elend’s prattling about class imbalance seems like silliness to me, but I can see the importance of presenting a unified front before the Lord Ruler.”

  “Exactly,” Elend said. “This is what we have to—”

  “Vin!” a voice whispered.

  Vin jumped, nearly falling off the window ledge in shock. She glanced around in alarm.

  “Above you,” the voice whispered.

  She glanced up. Kelsier hung from another window ledge just above. He smiled, winked, then nodded down toward the wall-walkway below.

  Vin glanced back at Elend’s room as Kelsier dropped through the mists beside her. Finally, she pushed herself off and followed Kelsier down, using her same coin to slow her descent.

  “You’re back!” she said eagerly as she landed.

  “Got back this afternoon.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Checking up on our friend in there,” Kelsier said. “Doesn’t seem like much has changed since the last time.”

  “Last time?”

  Kelsier nodded. “I’ve spied on that little group a couple of times since you told me about them. I shouldn’t have bothered—they’re not a threat. Just a bunch of noblelings getting together to drink and debate.”

  “But, they want to overthrow the Lord Ruler!”

  “Hardly,” Kelsier said with a snort. “They’re just doing what noblemen do—planning alliances. It’s not that unusual for the next generation to start organizing their house coalitions before they come to power.”

  “This is different,” Vin said.

  “Oh?” Kelsier asked with amusement. “You’ve been a noble so long that you can tell that already?”

  She flushed, and he laughed, putting a friendly arm around her shoulders. “Oh, don’t get like that. They seem like nice enough lads, for noblemen. I promise not to kill any of them, all right?”

  Vin nodded.

  “Perhaps we can find a way to use them—they do seem more open-minded than most. I just don’t want you to be disappointed, Vin. They’re still noblemen. Perhaps they can’t help what they are, but that doesn’t change their nature.”

  Just like Dockson, Vin thought. Kelsier assumes the worst about Elend. But, did she really have any reason to expect otherwise? To fight a battle like Kelsier and Dockson were, it was probably more effective—and better for the psyche—to assume that all of their enemies were evil.

  “What happened to your makeup, by the way?” Kelsier asked.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Vin said, thinking back to her conversation with Elend. Why did I have to cry? I’m such an idiot! And, the way I blurted out that question about him sleeping with skaa.

  Kelsier shrugged. “Okay, then. We should get going—I doubt young Venture and his comrades will discuss anything relevant.”

  Vin paused.

  “I’ve listened to them on three separate occasions, Vin,” Kelsier said. “I’ll summarize for you, if you want.”

  “All right,” she said with a sigh. “But I told Sazed I’d meet him back up at the party.”

  “Off you go, then,” Kelsier said. “I promise not to tell him you were sneaking around and using Allomancy.”

  “He told
me I could,” Vin said defensively.

  “He did?”

  Vin nodded.

  “My mistake,” Kelsier said. “You should probably have Saze fetch you a cloak before you leave the party—you’ve got ash all over the front of your dress. I’ll meet you back at Clubs’s shop—have the carriage drop you and Sazed off there, then continue on out of the city. That’ll keep up appearances.”

  Vin nodded again, and Kelsier winked and jumped off the wall into the mists.

  In the end, I must trust in myself. I have seen men who have beaten from themselves the ability to recognize truth and goodness, and I do not think I am one of them. I can still see the tears in a young child’s eyes and feel pain at his suffering.

  If I ever lose this, then I will know that I’ve passed beyond hope of redemption.

  24

  KELSIER WAS ALREADY AT THE shop when Vin and Sazed arrived. He sat with Ham, Clubs, and Spook in the kitchen, enjoying a late-night drink.

  “Ham!” Vin said eagerly as she came in the back door. “You’re back!”

  “Yup,” he said happily, raising his cup.

  “It seems like you’ve been gone forever!”

  “You’re telling me,” Ham said, his voice earnest.

  Kelsier chuckled, rising to refill his drink. “Ham’s a bit tired of playing general.”

  “I had to wear a uniform,” Ham complained, stretching. He now wore his customary vest and trousers. “Even plantation skaa don’t have to deal with that kind of torture.”

  “Try wearing a formal gown sometime,” Vin said, seating herself. She’d brushed off the front of her dress, and it didn’t look half as bad as she’d feared. The blackish gray ash still showed up a bit against the dark fabric, and the fibers were rough where she’d rubbed against stone, but both were barely noticeable.

  Ham laughed. “It seems that you’ve turned into a proper young lady while I was gone.”

  “Hardly,” Vin said as Kelsier handed her a cup of wine. She paused briefly, then took a sip.

  “Mistress Vin is being modest, Master Hammond,” Sazed said, taking a seat. “She’s growing quite proficient at courtly arts—better than many actual nobles that I have known.”

  Vin flushed, and Ham laughed again. “Humility, Vin? Where’d you ever learn a bad habit like that?”

  “Not from me, certainly,” Kelsier said, offering Sazed a cup of wine. The Terrisman raised his hand in a respectful refusal.

  “Of course she didn’t get it from you, Kell,” Ham said. “Maybe Spook taught her. He seems to be the only one in this crew who knows how to keep his mouth shut, eh, kid?”

  Spook flushed, obviously trying to avoid looking at Vin.

  I’ll have to deal with him sometime, she thought. But... not tonight. Kelsier’s back and Elend’s not a murderer—this is a night to relax.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and a moment later Dock-son strolled into the room. “A party? And no one sent for me?”

  “You seemed busy,” Kelsier said.

  “Besides,” Ham added, “we know you’re too responsible to sit around and get drunk with a bunch of miscreants like us.”

  “Someone has to keep this crew running,” Dockson said lightheartedly, pouring himself a drink. He paused, frowning at Ham. “That vest looks familiar....”

  Ham smiled. “I ripped the arms off of my uniform coat.”

  “You didn’t!” Vin said with a smile.

  Ham nodded, looking self-satisfied.

  Dockson sighed, continuing to fill his cup. “Ham, those things cost money.”

  “Everything costs money,” Ham said. “But, what is money? A physical representation of the abstract concept of effort. Well, wearing that uniform for so long was a pretty mean effort. I’d say that this vest and I are even now.”

  Dockson just rolled his eyes. In the main room, the shop’s front door opened and closed, and Vin heard Breeze bid hello to the apprentice on watch.

  “By the way, Dox,” Kelsier said, leaning with his back against a cupboard. “I’m going to need a few ‘physical representations of the concept of effort’ myself. I’d like to rent a small warehouse to conduct some of my informant meetings.”

  “That can probably be arranged,” Dockson said. “Assuming we keep Vin’s wardrobe budget under control, I—” He broke off, glancing at Vin. “What did you do to that gown, young lady!”

  Vin flushed, scrunching down in her chair. Perhaps it’s a bit more noticeable than I thought....

  Kelsier chuckled. “You may have to get used to dirtied clothing, Dox. Vin’s back on Mistborn duty as of this evening.”

  “Interesting,” Breeze said, entering the kitchen. “Might I suggest that she avoid fighting three Steel Inquisitors at once this time?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Vin said.

  Breeze strolled over to the table and chose a seat with his characteristic decorum. The portly man raised his dueling cane, pointing it at Ham. “I see that my period of intellectual respite has come to an end.”

  Ham smiled. “I thought up a couple beastly questions while I was gone, and I’ve been saving them just for you, Breeze.”

  “I’m dying of anticipation,” Breeze said. He turned his cane toward Lestibournes. “Spook, drink.”

  Spook rushed over and fetched Breeze a cup of wine.

  “He’s such a fine lad,” Breeze noted, accepting the drink. “I barely even have to nudge him Allomantically. If only the rest of you ruffians were so accommodating.”

  Spook frowned. “Niceing the not on the playing without.”

  “I have no idea what you just said, child,” Breeze said. “So I’m simply going to pretend it was coherent, then move on.”

  Kelsier rolled his eyes. “Losing the stress on the nip,” he said. “Notting without the needing of care.”

  “Riding the rile of the rids to the right,” Spook said with a nod.

  “What are you two babbling about?” Breeze said testily.

  “Wasing the was of brightness,” Spook said. “Nip the having of wishing of this.”

  “Ever wasing the doing of this,” Kelsier agreed.

  “Ever wasing the wish of having the have,” Ham added with a smile. “Brighting the wish of wasing the not.”

  Breeze turned to Dockson with exasperation. “I believe our companions have finally lost their minds, dear friend.”

  Dockson shrugged. Then, with a perfectly straight face, he said, “Wasing not of wasing is.”

  Breeze sat, dumbfounded, and the room burst into laughter. Breeze rolled his eyes indignantly, shaking his head and muttering about the crew’s gross childishness.

  Vin nearly choked on her wine as she laughed. “What did you even say?” she asked of Dockson as he sat down beside her.

  “I’m not sure,” he confessed. “It just sounded right.”

  “I don’t think you said anything, Dox,” Kelsier said.

  “Oh, he said something,” Spook said. “It just didn’t mean anything.”

  Kelsier laughed. “That’s true pretty much all the time. I’ve found you can ignore half of what Dox tells you and not miss much—except for maybe the occasional complaint that you’re spending too much.”

  “Hey!” Dockson said. “Once again, must I point out that someone has to be responsible? Honestly, the way you people go through boxings...”

  Vin smiled. Even Dockson’s complaints seemed good-natured. Clubs sat quietly by the side wall, looking as curmudgeonly as ever, but Vin caught sight of a slight smile on his lips. Kelsier rose and opened another bottle of wine, refilling cups as he told the crew about the skaa army’s preparations.

  Vin felt... contented. As she sipped at her wine, she caught sight of the open doorway leading into the darkened workshop. She imagined, just for a moment, that she could see a figure out in the shadows—a frightened wisp of a girl, untrusting, suspicious. The girl’s hair was ragged and short, and she wore a simple, untucked dirty shirt and a pair of brown trousers.

>   Vin remembered that second night in Clubs’s shop, when she had stood out in the dark workroom, watching the others share late-night conversation. Had she really been that girl— one who would hide in the cold darkness, watching the laughter and friendship with a hidden envy, but never daring to join it?

  Kelsier made some particularly witty comment, drawing laughter from the entire room.

  You’re right, Kelsier, Vin thought with a smile. This is better.

  She wasn’t like them yet—not completely. Six months couldn’t silence Reen’s whispers, and she couldn’t see herself ever being as trusting as Kelsier was. But . . . she could finally understand, at least a little bit, why he worked the way he did.

  “All right,” Kelsier said, pulling over a chair and sitting on it the wrong way. “It looks like the army will be ready on schedule, and Marsh is in place. We need to get this plan moving. Vin, news from the ball?”

  “House Tekiel is vulnerable,” she said. “Its allies are scattering, and the vultures are moving in. Some whisper that debts and lost business will force the Tekiel to sell off their keep by the end of the month. There’s no way they can afford to continue paying the Lord Ruler’s keep tax.”

  “Which effectively eliminates one entire Great House from the city,” Dockson said. “Most of the Tekiel nobility— including Mistings and Mistborn—will have to move to outer plantations to try and recoup losses.”

  “Nice,” Ham noted. Any noble houses they could frighten out of the city would make seizing it that much easier.

  “That still leaves nine Great Houses in the city,” Breeze noted.

  “But they’ve started killing each other at night,” Kelsier said. “That’s only one step away from open war. I suspect we’ll see an exodus start here pretty soon—anyone who isn’t willing to risk assassination to maintain dominance in Luthadel will leave town for a couple of years.”

  “The strong houses don’t seem very afraid, though,” Vin said. “They’re still throwing balls, anyway.”

  “Oh, they’ll keep doing that right up until the end,” Kelsier said. “Balls make great excuses to meet with allies and keep an eye on enemies. House wars are primarily political, and so they demand political battlefields.”