“My lord?” she said, giving him her hand. “Surely you have more important things to attend to.”
“Nonsense,” he said. “A lord must be allowed time to dote upon his favored niece. How was your ride?”
Does he ever break character? He didn’t ask after the others in Luthadel, or give any indication that he knew of her wound.
“It was refreshing, Uncle,” she said as they walked up the steps to the mansion doors. Vin was thankful for the pewter burning lightly in her stomach to give strength to her still weak legs. Kelsier had warned against using it too much, lest she grow dependent upon its power, but she saw little alternative until she was healed.
“That is wonderful,” Renoux said. “Perhaps, once you are feeling better, we should take lunch together on the garden balcony. It has been warm lately, despite the coming winter.”
“That would be very pleasant,” Vin said. Before, she’d found the impostor’s noble bearing intimidating. Yet, as she slipped into the persona of Lady Valette, she experienced the same calmness as before. Vin the thief was nothing to a man such as Renoux, but Valette the socialite was another matter.
“Very good,” Renoux said, pausing inside the entryway. “However, let us attend to that on another day—for now, you would likely prefer to rest from your journey.”
“Actually, my lord, I’d like to visit Sazed. I have some matters I must discuss with the steward.”
“Ah,” Renoux said. “You will find him in the library, working on one of my projects.”
“Thank you,” Vin said.
Renoux nodded, then walked away, his dueling cane clicking against the white marble floor. Vin frowned, trying to decide if he was completely sane. Could someone really adopt a persona that wholly?
You do it, Vin reminded herself. When you become Lady Valette, you show a completely different side of yourself.
She turned, flaring pewter to help her climb the northern set of stairs. She let her flare lapse as she reached the top, returning to a normal burn. As Kelsier said, it was dangerous to flare metals for too extended a period; an Allomancer could quickly make their body dependent.
She took a few breaths—climbing the stairs had been difficult, even with pewter—then walked down the corridor to the library. Sazed sat at a desk beside a small coal stove on the far side of the small room, writing on a pad of paper. He wore his standard steward’s robes, and a pair of thin spectacles sat at the end of his nose.
Vin paused in the doorway, regarding the man who had saved her life. Why is he wearing spectacles? I’ve seen him read before without them. He seemed completely absorbed by his work, periodically studying a large tome on the desk, then turning to scribble notes on his pad.
“You’re an Allomancer,” Vin said quietly.
Sazed paused, then set down his pen and turned. “What makes you say that, Mistress Vin?”
“You got to Luthadel too quickly.”
“Lord Renoux keeps several swift messenger horses in his stables. I could have taken one of those.”
“You found me at the palace,” Vin said.
“Kelsier told me of his plans, and I correctly assumed that you had followed him. Locating you was a stroke of luck, one that nearly took me too long to achieve.”
Vin frowned. “You killed the Inquisitor.”
“Killed?” Sazed asked. “No, Mistress. It takes far more power than I posses to kill one of those monstrosities. I simply…distracted him.”
Vin stood in the doorway for a moment longer, trying to figure out why Sazed was being so ambiguous. “So, are you an Allomancer or not?”
He smiled, then he pulled a stool out from beside the desk. “Please, sit down.”
Vin did as requested, crossing the room and sitting on the stool, her back to a massive bookshelf.
“What would you think if I told you that I wasn’t an Allomancer?” Sazed asked.
“I’d think that you were lying,” Vin said.
“Have you known me to lie before?”
“The best liars are those who tell the truth most of the time.”
Sazed smiled, regarding her through bespectacled eyes. “That is true, I think. Still, what proof have you that I am an Allomancer?”
“You did things that couldn’t have been done without Allomancy.”
“Oh? A Mistborn for two months, and already you know all that is possible in the world?”
Vin paused. Up until just recently, she hadn’t even known much about Allomancy. Perhaps there was more to the world than she had assumed.
There’s always another secret. Kelsier’s words.
“So,” she said slowly, “what exactly is a ‘Keeper’?”
Sazed smiled. “Now, that is a far more clever question, Mistress. Keepers are…storehouses. We remember things, so that they can be used in the future.”
“Like religions,” Vin said.
Sazed nodded. “Religious truths are my particular specialty.”
“But, you remember other things too?”
Sazed nodded.
“Like what?”
“Well,” Sazed said, closing the tome he had been studying. “Languages, for instance.”
Vin immediately recognized the glyph-covered cover. “The book I found in the palace! How did you get it?”
“I happened across it while searching for you,” the Terrisman said. “It is written in a very old language, one that hasn’t been spoken regularly in nearly a millennium.”
“But you speak it?” Vin asked.
Sazed nodded. “Enough to translate this, I think.”
“And…how many languages do you know?”
“A hundred and seventy-two,” Sazed said. “Most of them, such as Khlenni, are no longer spoken. The Lord Ruler’s unity movement of the fifth century made certain of that. The language people now speak is actually a distant dialect of Terris, the language of my homeland.”
A hundred and seventy-two, Vin thought with amazement. “That…sounds impossible. One man couldn’t remember that much.”
“Not one man,” Sazed said. “One Keeper. What I do is similar to Allomancy, but not the same. You draw power from metals. I…use them to create memories.”
“How?” Vin asked.
Sazed shook his head. “Perhaps another time, Mistress. My kind…we prefer to maintain our secrets. The Lord Ruler hunts us with a remarkable, confusing passion. We are far less threatening than Mistborn—yet, he ignores Allomancers and seeks to destroy us, hating the Terris people because of us.”
“Hating?” Vin asked. “You’re treated better than regular skaa. You’re given positions of respect.”
“That is true, Mistress,” Sazed said. “But, in a way, the skaa are more free. Most Terrismen are raised from birth to be stewards. There are very few of us left, and the Lord Ruler’s breeders control our reproduction. No Terrisman steward is allowed to have a family, or even to bear children.”
Vin snorted. “That seems like it would be hard to enforce.”
Sazed paused, hand laying on the cover of the large book. “Why, not at all,” he said with a frown. “All Terrisman stewards are eunuchs, child. I assumed you knew that.”
Vin froze, then she blushed furiously. “I…I’m…sorry….”
“Truly and surely, no apology is required. I was castrated soon after my birth, as is standard for those who will be stewards. Often, I think I would have easily traded my life for that of a common skaa. My people are less than slaves…they’re fabricated automatons, created by breeding programs, trained from birth to fulfill the Lord Ruler’s wishes.”
Vin continued to blush, cursing her lack of tact. Why hadn’t anyone told her? Sazed, however, didn’t seem offended—he never seemed to get angry about anything.
Probably a function of his…condition, Vin thought. That’s what the breeders must want. Docile, even-tempered stewards.
“But,” Vin said, frowning, “you’re a rebel, Sazed. You’re fighting the Lord Ruler.”
“I a
m something of a deviant,” Sazed said. “And, my people are not as completely subjugated as the Lord Ruler would believe, I think. We hide Keepers beneath his very eyes, and some of us even gather the courage to break our training.”
He paused, then shook his head. “It is not an easy thing, however. We are a weak people, Mistress. We are eager to do as we are told, quick to seek subjugation. Even I, whom you dub a rebel, immediately sought out a position of stewardship and subservience. We are not so brave as we would wish, I think.”
“You were brave enough to save me,” Vin said.
Sazed smiled. “Ah, but there was an element of obedience in that too. I promised Master Kelsier that I would see to your safety.”
Ah, she thought. She had wondered if he’d had a reason for his actions. After all, who would risk their life simply to save Vin? She sat for a moment in thought, and Sazed turned back to his book. Finally, she spoke again, drawing the Terrisman’s attention. “Sazed?”
“Yes, Mistress?”
“Who betrayed Kelsier three years ago?”
Sazed paused, then set down his fountain pen. “The facts are unclear, Mistress. Most of the crew assumes it was Mare, I think.”
“Mare?” Vin asked. “Kelsier’s wife?”
Sazed nodded. “Apparently, she was one of the only people who could have done it. In addition, the Lord Ruler himself implicated her.”
“But, wasn’t she was sent to the Pits too?”
“She died there,” Sazed said. “Master Kelsier is reticent about the Pits, but I sense that the scars he bears from that horrid place go much deeper than the ones you see on his arms. I don’t think he ever knew if she was the traitor or not.”
“My brother said that anyone would betray you, if they had the right chance and a good enough motive.”
Sazed frowned. “Even if such a thing were true, I would not want to live believing it.”
It seems better than what happened to Kelsier: being turned over to the Lord Ruler by one you thought you loved.
“Kelsier is different lately,” Vin said. “He seems more reserved. Is that because he feels guilty for what happened to me?”
“I suspect that is part of it,” Sazed said. “However, he is also coming to realize that there is a large difference between heading a small crew of thieves and organizing a large rebellion. He can’t take the risks he once did. The process is changing him for the better, I think.”
Vin wasn’t so certain. However, she remained silent, realizing with frustration how tired she was. Even sitting on a stool seemed strenuous to her now.
“Go and sleep, Mistress,” Sazed said, picking up his pen and relocating his place in the tome with his finger. “You survived something that probably should have killed you. Give your body the thanks it deserves; let it rest.”
Vin nodded tiredly, then climbed to her feet and left him scribbling quietly in the afternoon light.
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I’d remained there, in that lazy village of my birth. I’d have become a smith, like my father. Perhaps I’d have a family, sons of my own.
Perhaps someone else would have come to carry this terrible burden. Someone who could bear it far better than I. Someone who deserved to be a hero.
17
BEFORE COMING TO MANSION RENOUX, VIN had never seen a cultivated garden. On burglaries or scouting missions, she had occasionally seen ornamental plants, but she’d never given them much heed—they, like many noble interests, had seemed frivolous to her.
She hadn’t realized how beautiful the plants could be when arranged carefully. Mansion Renoux’s garden balcony was a thin, oval structure that overlooked the grounds below. The gardens weren’t large—they required too much water and attention to form more than a thin perimeter around the back of the building.
Still, they were marvelous. Instead of mundane browns and whites, the cultivated plants were of deeper, more vibrant colors—shades of red, orange, and yellow, with the colors concentrated in their leaves. The groundskeepers had planted them to make intricate, beautiful patterns. Closer to the balcony, exotic trees with colorful yellow leaves gave shade and protected from ashfalls. It was a very mild winter, and most of the trees still held their leaves. The air felt cool, and the rustling of branches in the wind was soothing.
Almost soothing enough, in fact, to make Vin forget how annoyed she was.
“Would you like more tea, child?” Lord Renoux asked. He didn’t wait for an answer; he simply waved for a servant to rush forward and refill her cup.
Vin sat on a plush cushion, her wicker chair designed for comfort. During the last four weeks, her every whim and desire had been met. Servants cleaned up after her, primped her, fed her, and even helped bathe her. Renoux saw that anything she asked for was given her, and she certainly wasn’t expected to do anything strenuous, dangerous, or even slightly inconvenient.
In other words, her life was maddeningly boring. Before, her time at Mansion Renoux had been monopolized by Sazed’s lessons and Kelsier’s training. She’d slept during the days, having only minimal contact with the mansion staff.
Now, however, Allomancy—at least, the nighttime jumping kind—was forbidden her. Her wound was only partially healed, and too much motion reopened it. Sazed still gave her occasional lessons, but his time was dominated by translating the book. He spent long hours in the library, poring over its pages with an uncharacteristically excited air.
He’s found a new bit of lore, Vin thought. To a Keeper, that’s probably as intoxicating as streetspice.
She sipped at her tea with repressed petulance, eyeing the nearby servants. They seemed like scavenger birds, roosting and waiting for any opportunity to make Vin as comfortable—and as frustrated—as possible.
Renoux wasn’t much help either. His idea of “taking lunch” with Vin was to sit and attend to his own duties—making notes on ledgers or dictating letters—while eating. Her attendance seemed important to him, but he rarely paid much attention to her other than to ask how her day had been.
Yet, she forced herself to act the part of a prim noblewoman. Lord Renoux had hired some new servants that didn’t know about the job—not house staff, but gardeners and workmen. Kelsier and Renoux had worried that the other houses would grow suspicious if they couldn’t get at least a few servant-spies onto the Renoux grounds. Kelsier didn’t see it as a danger to the job, but it did mean that Vin had to maintain her persona whenever possible.
I can’t believe that people live like this, Vin thought as some servants began clearing away the meal. How can noblewomen fill their days with so much nothing? No wonder everyone’s eager to attend those balls!
“Is your respite pleasant, dear?” Renoux asked, pouring over another ledger.
“Yes, Uncle,” Vin said through tight lips. “Quite.”
“You should be up to a shopping trip soon,” Renoux said, looking up at her. “Perhaps you would like to visit Kenton Street? Get some new earrings to replace that pedestrian stud you wear?”
Vin reached a hand to her ear, where her mother’s earring still sat. “No,” she said. “I’ll keep this.”
Renoux frowned, but said no more, for a servant approached and drew his attention. “My lord,” the servant said to Renoux. “A carriage just arrived from Luthadel.”
Vin perked up. That was the servants’ way of saying that a member of the crew had arrived.
“Ah, very good,” Renoux said. “Show them up, Tawnson.”
“Yes, my lord.”
A few minutes later, Kelsier, Breeze, Yeden, and Dockson walked out onto the balcony. Renoux discreetly waved to the servants, who closed the glass balcony doors and left the crew in privacy. Several men took up position just inside, watching to make certain that the wrong people didn’t have an opportunity to eavesdrop.
“Are we interrupting your meal?” Dockson asked.
“No!” Vin said quickly, cutting off Lord Renoux’s reply. “Sit, please.”
Kelsier strol
led over to the balcony’s ledge, looking out over the garden and grounds. “Nice view you have here.”
“Kelsier, is that wise?” Renoux asked. “Some of the gardeners are men for whom I cannot vouch.”
Kelsier chuckled. “If they can recognize me from this distance, they deserve more than the Great Houses are paying them.” However, he did leave the balcony edge, walking over to the table and spinning a chair, then sitting down on it the wrong way. Over the last few weeks, he had mostly returned to his old, familiar self. Yet, there were still changes. He held meetings more often, discussed more of his plans with the crew. He also still seemed different, more…thoughtful.
Sazed was right, Vin thought. Our attack on the palace might have been near-deadly for me, but it has changed Kelsier for the better.
“We thought we’d have our meeting here this week,” Dockson said, “since you two rarely get to participate.”
“That was most thoughtful of you, Master Dockson,” Lord Renoux said. “But your concern is unnecessary. We are doing just fine—”
“No,” Vin interrupted. “No, we aren’t. Some of us need information. What’s happening with the crew? How is the recruitment going?”
Renoux eyed her with dissatisfaction. Vin, however, ignored him. He’s not really a lord, she told herself. He’s just another crewmember. My opinion counts as much as his! Now that the servants are gone, I can speak how I want.
Kelsier chuckled. “Well, captivity’s made her a bit more outspoken, if nothing else.”
“I don’t have anything to do,” Vin said. “It’s driving me insane.”
Breeze set his cup of wine on the table. “Some would find your state quite enviable, Vin.”
“Then they must already be insane.”
“Oh, they’re mostly noblemen,” Kelsier said. “So, yes, they’re quite mad.”
“The job,” Vin reminded. “What’s happening?”
“Recruitment is still too slow,” Dockson said. “But we’re improving.”
“We may have to sacrifice further security for numbers, Kelsier,” Yeden said.
That’s a change too, she thought, impressed as she noted Yeden’s civility. He had taken to wearing nicer clothing—not quite a full gentlemen’s suit like Dockson or Breeze, but at least a well-cut jacket and trousers, with a buttoning shirt beneath, all kept clean of soot.
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