The Mistborn Trilogy

by Brandon Sanderson

  So subtle! Kelsier thought. How did she get so good so quickly?

  “You don’t have to use Allomancy, Vin,” Kelsier said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. You know that.”

  She flushed. “I didn’t mean it…it’s just habit. Even still.”

  “It’s all right,” Kelsier said, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Just remember—no matter what Breeze says, it’s bad manners to touch the emotions of your friends. Plus, the noblemen consider it an insult to use Allomancy in formal settings. Those reflexes will get you into trouble if you don’t learn to control them.”

  She nodded, rising to study Camon. Kelsier expected her to turn away in disgust, but she just stood quietly, a look of grim satisfaction on her face.

  No, this one isn’t weak, Kelsier thought. No matter what she’d have you believe.

  “They tortured him here?” she asked. “Out in the open?”

  Kelsier nodded, imagining the screams reverberating out to the uncomfortable beggars. The Ministry liked to be very visible with its punishments.

  “Why the hook?” Vin asked.

  “It’s a ritual killing reserved for the most reprehensible of sinners: people who misuse Allomancy.”

  Vin frowned. “Camon was an Allomancer?”

  Kelsier shook his head. “He must have admitted to something heinous during his torture.” Kelsier glanced at Vin. “He must have known what you were, Vin. He used you intentionally.”

  She paled slightly. “Then…the Ministry knows that I’m a Mistborn?”

  “Perhaps. It depends on whether Camon knew or not. He could have assumed you were just a Misting.”

  She stood quietly for a moment. “What does this mean for my part in the job, then?”

  “We’ll continue as planned,” Kelsier said. “Only a couple of obligators saw you at the Canton building, and it takes a very rare man to connect the skaa servant and the well-dressed noblewoman as the same person.”

  “And the Inquisitor?” Vin asked softly.

  Kelsier didn’t have an answer to that one. “Come on,” he finally said. “We’ve already attracted too much attention.”

  What would it be like if every nation—from the isles in the South to the Terris hills in the North—were united under a single government? What wonders could be achieved, what progress could be made, if mankind were to permanently set aside its squabblings and join together?

  It is too much, I suppose, to even hope for. A single, unified empire of man? It could never happen.

  12

  VIN RESISTED THE URGE TO PICK at her noblewoman’s dress. Even after a half week of being forced to wear one—Sazed’s suggestion—she found the bulky garment uncomfortable. It pulled tightly at her waist and chest, then fell to the floor with several layers of ruffled fabric, making it difficult to walk. She kept feeling as if she were going to trip—and, despite the gown’s bulk, she felt as if she were somehow exposed by how tight it was through the chest, not to mention the neckline’s low curve. Though she had exposed nearly as much skin when wearing normal, buttoning shirts, this seemed different somehow.

  Still, she had to admit that the gown made quite a difference. The girl who stood in the mirror before her was a strange, foreign creature. The light blue dress, with its white ruffles and lace, matched the sapphire barrettes in her hair. Sazed claimed he wouldn’t be happy until her hair was at least shoulder-length, but he had still suggested that she purchase the broochlike barrettes and put them just above each ear.

  “Often, aristocrats don’t hide their deficiencies,” he had explained. “Instead, they highlight them. Draw attention to your short hair, and instead of thinking you’re unfashionable, they might be impressed by the statement you are making.”

  She also wore a sapphire necklace—modest by noble standards, but still worth more than two hundred boxings. It was complemented by a single ruby bracelet for accentuation. Apparently, the current fashion dictated a single splash of a different color to provide contrast.

  And it was all hers, paid for by crew funds. If she ran, taking the jewelry and her three thousand boxings, she could live for decades. It was more tempting than she wanted to admit. Images of Camon’s men, their corpses twisted and dead in the quiet lair, kept returning to her. That was probably what waited for her if she remained.

  Why, then, didn’t she go?

  She turned from the mirror, putting on a light blue silken shawl, the female aristocrat’s version of a cloak. Why didn’t she leave? Perhaps it was her promise to Kelsier. He had given her the gift of Allomancy, and he depended on her. Perhaps it was her duty to the others. In order to survive, crews needed each person to do their separate job.

  Reen’s training told her that these men were fools, but she was tempted, enticed, by the possibility that Kelsier and the others offered. In the end, it wasn’t the wealth or the job’s thrill that made her stay. It was the shadowed prospect—unlikely and unreasonable, but still seductive—of a group whose members actually trusted one another. She had to stay. She had to know if it lasted, or if it was—as Reen’s growing whispers promised—all a lie.

  She turned and left her room, walking toward the front of Mansion Renoux, where Sazed waited with a carriage. She had decided to stay, and that meant she had to do her part.

  It was time to make her first appearance as a noblewoman.

  The carriage shook suddenly, and Vin jumped in surprise. The vehicle continued normally, however, and Sazed didn’t move from his place in the driver’s seat.

  A sound came from above. Vin flared her metals, tensing, as a figure dropped down off the top of the carriage and landed on the footman’s rest just outside her door. Kelsier smiled as he peeked his head in the window.

  Vin let out a relieved breath, settling back into her seat. “You could have just asked us to pick you up.”

  “No need,” Kelsier said, pulling open the carriage door and swinging inside. It was already dark outside, and he wore his mistcloak. “I warned Sazed I’d be dropping by sometime during the trip.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?”

  Kelsier winked, pulling the door shut. “I figured I still owed you for surprising me in that alleyway last week.”

  “How very adult of you,” Vin said flatly.

  “I’ve always been very confident in my immaturity. So, are you ready for this evening?”

  Vin shrugged, trying to hide her nervousness. She glanced down. “How…uh, do I look?”

  “Splendid,” Kelsier said. “Just like a noble young lady. Don’t be nervous, Vin—the disguise is perfect.”

  For some reason, that didn’t feel like the answer she’d wanted to hear. “Kelsier?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask this for a while,” she said, glancing out the window, though all she could see is mist. “I understand that you think this is important—having a spy among the nobility. But…well, do we really have to do it this way? Couldn’t we get street informants to tell us what we need to know about house politics?”

  “Perhaps,” Kelsier said. “But those men are called ‘informants’ for a reason, Vin. Every question you ask them gives a clue about your true motives—even meeting with them reveals a bit of information that they could sell to someone else. It’s better to rely on them as little as possible.”

  Vin sighed.

  “I don’t send you into danger heedlessly, Vin,” Kelsier said, leaning forward. “We do need a spy among the nobility. Informants generally get their information from servants, but most aristocrats are not fools. Important meetings go on where no servant can overhear them.”

  “And you expect me to be able to get into such meetings?”

  “Perhaps,” Kelsier said. “Perhaps not. Either way, I’ve learned that it’s always useful to have someone infiltrate the nobility. You and Sazed will overhear vital items that street informants wouldn’t think important. In fact, just by being at these parties—even if you don’t overhear anything—you will get us
information.”

  “How so?” Vin asked, frowning.

  “Make note of the people who seem interested in you,” Kelsier said. “Those will be of the houses we want to watch. If they pay attention to you, they’re probably paying attention to Lord Renoux—and there’s one good reason why they would be doing that.”

  “Weapons,” Vin said.

  Kelsier nodded. “Renoux’s position as a weapons merchant will make him valuable to those who are planning military action. These are the houses on which I’ll need to focus my attention. There should already be a sense of tension among the nobility—hopefully, they’re starting to wonder which houses are turning against the others. There hasn’t been an all-out war among the Great Houses for over a century, but the last one was devastating. We need to replicate it.”

  “That could mean the deaths of a lot of noblemen,” Vin said.

  Kelsier smiled. “I can live with that. How about you?”

  Vin smiled despite her tension.

  “There’s another reason for you to do this,” Kelsier said. “Sometime during this fiasco of a plan of mine, we might need to face the Lord Ruler. I have a feeling that the fewer people we need to sneak into his presence, the better. Having a skaa Mistborn hiding among the nobility…well, it could be a powerful advantage.”

  Vin felt a slight chill. “The Lord Ruler…will he be there tonight?”

  “No. There will be obligators in attendance, but probably no Inquisitors—and certainly not the Lord Ruler himself. A party like this is far beneath his attention.”

  Vin nodded. She’d never seen the Lord Ruler before—she’d never wanted to.

  “Don’t worry so much,” Kelsier said. “Even if you were to meet him, you’d be safe. He can’t read minds.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Kelsier paused. “Well, no. But, if he can read minds, he doesn’t do it to everyone he meets. I’ve known several skaa who pretended to be noblemen in his presence—I did it several times myself, before…” He trailed off, glancing down toward his scar-covered hands.

  “He caught you eventually,” Vin said quietly.

  “And he’ll probably do so again,” Kelsier said with a wink. “But, don’t worry about him for now—our goal this evening is to establish Lady Valette Renoux. You won’t need to do anything dangerous or unusual. Just make an appearance, then leave when Sazed tells you. We’ll worry about building confidences later.”

  Vin nodded.

  “Good girl,” Kelsier said, reaching out and pushing open the door. “I’ll be hiding near the keep, watching and listening.”

  Vin nodded gratefully, and Kelsier jumped out of the carriage door, disappearing into the dark mists.

  Vin was unprepared for how bright Keep Venture would be in the darkness. The massive building was enveloped in an aura of misty light. As the carriage approached, Vin could see that eight enormous lights blazed along the outside of the rectangular building. They were as bright as bonfires, yet far more steady, and they had mirrors arranged behind them to make them shine directly on the keep. Vin had trouble determining their purpose. The ball would happen indoors—why light the outside of the building?

  “Head inside, please, Mistress Vin,” Sazed said from his position above. “Proper young ladies do not gawk.”

  Vin shot him a glare he couldn’t see, but ducked her head back inside, waiting with impatient nervousness as the carriage pulled up to the massive keep. It eventually rolled to a stop, and a Venture footman immediately opened her door. A second footman approached and held out a hand to help her down.

  Vin accepted his hand, trying with as much grace as possible to pull the frilled, bulky bottom of her dress out of the carriage. As she carefully descended—trying not to trip—she was grateful for the footman’s steadying hand, and she finally realized why men were expected to help a lady out of her carriage. It wasn’t a silly custom after all—the clothing was the silly part.

  Sazed surrendered the carriage and took his place a few steps behind her. He wore robes even more fine than his standard fare; though they still maintained the same V-like pattern, they had a belted waist and wide, enveloping sleeves.

  “Forward, Mistress,” Sazed coached quietly from behind. “Up the carpet, so that your dress doesn’t rub on the cobbles, and in through the main doors.”

  Vin nodded, trying to swallow her discomfort. She walked forward, passing noblemen and ladies in various suits and gowns. Though they weren’t looking at her, she felt exposed. Her steps were nowhere near as graceful as those of the other ladies, who looked beautiful and comfortable in their gowns. Her hands began to sweat inside her silky, blue-white gloves.

  She forced herself to continue. Sazed introduced her at the door, presenting her invitation to the attendants. The two men, dressed in black and red servant’s suits, bowed and waved her in. A crowd of aristocrats was pooling slightly in the foyer, waiting to enter the main hall.

  What am I doing? she thought frantically. She could challenge mist and Allomancy, thieves and burglaries, mistwraiths and beatings. Yet, facing these noblemen and their ladies…going amongst them in the light, visible, unable to hide…this terrified her.

  “Forward, Mistress,” Sazed said in a soothing voice. “Remember your lessons.”

  Hide! Find a corner! Shadows, mists, anything!

  Vin kept her hands clasped rigidly before her, walking forward. Sazed walked beside her. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see concern on his normally calm face.

  And well he should worry! Everything he had taught her seemed fleeting—vaporous, like the mists themselves. She couldn’t remember names, customs, anything.

  She stopped just inside the foyer, and an imperious-looking nobleman in a black suit turned to regard her. Vin froze.

  The man looked her over with a dismissive glance, then turned away. She distinctly heard the word “Renoux” whispered, and she glanced apprehensively to the side. Several women were looking at her.

  And yet, it didn’t feel like they were seeing her at all. They were studying the gown, the hair, and the jewelry. Vin glanced to the other side, where a group of younger men were watching her. They saw the neckline, the pretty dress and the makeup, but they didn’t see her.

  None of them could see Vin, they could only see the face she had put on—the face she wanted them to see. They saw Lady Valette. It was as if Vin weren’t there.

  As if…she were hiding, hiding right in front of their eyes.

  And suddenly, her tension began to retreat. She let out a long, calming breath, anxiety flowing away. Sazed’s training returned, and she adopted the look of a girl amazed by her first formal ball. She stepped to the side, handing her shawl to an attendant, and Sazed relaxed beside her. Vin shot him a smile, then swept forward into the main hall.

  She could do this. She was still nervous, but the moment of panic was over. She didn’t need shadows or corners—she just needed a mask of sapphires, makeup, and blue fabric.

  The Venture main hall was a grand and imposing sight. Four or five daunting stories high, the hall was several times as long as it was wide. Enormous, rectangular stained-glass windows ran in rows along the hall, and the strange, powerful lights outside shone on them directly, throwing a cascade of colors across the room. Massive, ornate stone pillars were set into the walls, running between the windows. Just before the pillars met the floor, the wall fell away, indenting and creating a single-story gallery beneath the windows themselves. Dozens of white-clothed tables sat in this area, shadowed behind the pillars and beneath the overhang. In the distance, at the far end of the hallway, Vin could make out a low balcony set into the wall, and this held a smaller group of tables.

  “The dining table of Lord Straff Venture,” Sazed whispered, gesturing toward the far balcony.

  Vin nodded. “And those lights outside?”

  “Limelights, Mistress,” Sazed explained. “I’m not certain the process used—somehow, the quicklime stones can be heated to brilliance wit
hout melting them.”

  A string orchestra played on a platform to her left, providing music for the couples who danced in the very center of the hall. To her right, serving tables held platter upon platter of foods being attended by scurrying serving men in white.

  Sazed approached an attendant and presented Vin’s invitation. The man nodded, then whispered something in a younger servant’s ear. The young man bowed to Vin, then led the way into the room.

  “I asked for a small, solitary table,” Sazed said. “You won’t need to mingle during this visit, I think. Just be seen.”

  Vin nodded gratefully.

  “The solitary table will mark you as single,” Sazed warned. “Eat slowly—once your meal is through, men will come to ask you to dance.”

  “You didn’t teach me to dance!” Vin said in an urgent whisper.

  “There wasn’t time, Mistress,” Sazed said. “Worry not—respectfully and rightly, you can refuse these men. They will assume that you are simply flustered by your first ball, and no harm will be done.”

  Vin nodded, and the serving man led them to a small table near the center of the hallway. Vin seated herself in the only chair while Sazed ordered her meal. He then stepped up to stand behind her chair.

  Vin sat primly, waiting. Most of the tables lay just beneath the overhang of the gallery—up close to the dancing—and that left a corridorlike walkway behind them, near the wall. Couples and groups passed along this, speaking quietly. Occasionally someone gestured or nodded toward Vin.

  Well, that part of Kelsier’s plan is working. She was getting noticed. She had to force herself not to cringe or sink down in her chair, however, as a high prelan strolled along the pathway behind her. He wasn’t the one she had met, fortunately, though he had the same gray robes and dark tattoos around his eyes.

  Actually, there were a fair number of obligators at the party. They strolled about, mingling with the partygoers. And yet, there was an…aloofness to them. A division. They hovered about, almost like chaperones.