The Mistborn Trilogy

by Brandon Sanderson

  Spook nodded. “As has Vin. Don’t you remember the report?” With that, he felt about on the floor, eventually finding a hidden latch and opening a trapdoor. Sazed peered down into the dark cavern below.

  “What’s he talking about?” Allrianne whispered to Breeze. “Vin’s been here?”

  “She did reconnaissance in this city, dear,” Breeze said. “To find . . .”

  “The cache,” Sazed said as Spook began to climb down a ladder into the darkness. He left the lantern behind. “The supply cache left behind by the Lord Ruler. All of them are underneath Ministry buildings.”

  “Well, that’s what we’re here to recover, isn’t it?” Allrianne asked. “So, we’ve got it. Why bother with that Citizen fellow and his crazy peasants?”

  “There’s no way we could get these supplies out of the city with the Citizen in control.” Spook’s voice drifted up, echoing slightly. “There’s too much down here.”

  “Besides, my dear,” Breeze said. “Elend didn’t just send us to get these supplies—he sent us to quell a rebellion. We can’t have one of our major cities in revolt, and we particularly can’t afford to let the rebellion spread. I must say, though, it does feel odd to be on this side of the problem—stopping a rebellion, rather than starting one.”

  “We may have to organize a rebellion against the rebellion, Breeze,” Spook’s voice echoed from below. “If that makes you feel any more comfortable. Anyway, are you three coming down or not?”

  Sazed and Breeze shared a look, then Breeze gestured toward the dark pit. “After you.”

  Sazed picked up the lantern and climbed down the ladder. At the bottom, he found a small stone chamber, one wall of which had been pulled back to reveal a cavern. He stepped inside, Breeze reaching the ground behind him, then helping Allrianne down.

  Sazed raised the lantern, staring quietly.

  “Lord Ruler!” Breeze said, stepping up beside him. “It’s enormous!”

  “The Lord Ruler prepared these caches in case of a disaster,” Spook said, standing ahead of them in the cavern. “They were meant to help the empire through what we’re now facing. They wouldn’t be much good if they weren’t created on a grand scale.”

  “Grand” was correct. They stood on a ledge near the ceiling of the cavern, and a vast chamber extended out below. Sazed could see row upon row of shelves lining the cavern floor.

  “I think we should set up our base here, Sazed,” Spook said, moving toward stairs that led down to the cavern floor. “It’s the only defensible place in the city. If we move our troops into the building above, we can use this cavern for supplies—and can even fall back in here in an emergency. We could defend this even against a determined assault.”

  Sazed turned, regarding the stone doorway into the chamber. It was small enough that only one man could pass through at a time—which meant that it would be very easy to guard. And, there was probably a way to shut it again.

  “Suddenly I feel a whole lot safer in this city,” Breeze noted.

  Sazed nodded. He turned, regarding the cavern again. In the distance, he could hear something. “Is that water?”

  Spook was moving down steps. Again, his voice echoed hauntingly in the chamber. “Each cache has a specialty—something it contains more of than all the others.”

  Sazed moved down the steps as Goradel’s soldiers entered the chamber behind Breeze. Though the soldiers had brought more lanterns, Breeze and Allrianne stuck close to Sazed as they descended.

  Soon, Sazed realized he could see something sparkling in the distance. He held the lantern high, pausing on the steps as he saw that some of the darkness in the distance was too flat to be part of the cavern floor.

  Breeze whistled quietly as they studied the enormous underground lake. “Well,” he noted, “I guess now we know where all the water from those canals went.”

  Originally, men assumed that Rashek’s persecution of the Terris religion came from hatred. Yet, now that we know that Rashek was himself a Terrisman, his destruction of that religion seems odd. I suspect it had something to do with the prophecies about the Hero of Ages. Rashek knew that Preservation’s power would eventually return to the Well of Ascension. If the Terris religion had been allowed to survive, then perhaps—someday—a person would find their way to the Well and take up the power, then use it to defeat Rashek and overthrow his empire. So, he obscured knowledge of the Hero and what he was supposed to do, hoping to keep the secret of the Well to himself.

  30

  “YOU’RE NOT GOING TO TRY AND TALK me out of this?” Elend asked, amused.

  Ham and Cett shared a look.

  “Why would we do that, El?” Ham asked, standing at the front of the boat. In the distance, the sun was setting, and the mists had already begun to gather. The boat rocked quietly, and soldiers milled about on the shore, preparing for night. One week had passed since Vin’s initial scouting of Fadrex, and she still hadn’t managed to sneak into the storage cache.

  The night of the next ball had arrived, and Elend and Vin were planning to attend.

  “Well, I can think of a couple of reasons why you might object,” Elend said, counting them off on his fingers. “First, it isn’t wise to expose me to potential capture. Second, by revealing myself at the party, I’ll show that I’m Mistborn, confirming rumors that Yomen may not believe. Third, I’ll be putting both of our Mistborn in the same place, where they can be easily attacked—that can’t be a good idea. Finally, there’s the fact that going to a ball in the middle of a war is just plain crazy.”

  Ham shrugged, leaning with one elbow against the deck railing. “This isn’t so different from when you entered your father’s camp during the siege of Luthadel. Except you weren’t Mistborn then, and you weren’t in such a position of political power. Yomen would be crazy to make a move against you—he has to know that if you’re in the same room with him, he’s in mortal danger himself.”

  “He’ll run,” Cett said from his seat. “This party will end the moment you arrive.”

  “No,” Elend said, “I don’t think it will.” He glanced back toward their cabin. Vin was still getting ready—she’d had the camp tailors modify one of the cooking girls’ dresses. Elend was worried. No matter how good the dress turned out to be, it would look out of place compared to the lavish ball gowns.

  He turned back to Cett and Ham. “I don’t think Yomen will run. He has to know that if Vin wanted to kill him, she’d attack his palace in secret. He’s trying very hard to pretend that nothing has changed since the Lord Ruler disappeared. When we show up at the ball, it will make him think that we’re willing to pretend with him. He’ll stay and see if he can gain some advantage by meeting with us on his terms.”

  “The man’s a fool,” Cett said. “I can’t believe he’d want to go back to the way things were.”

  “At least he’s trying to give his subjects what they want. That’s where you went wrong, Cett. You lost your kingdom the moment you left because you didn’t care to try pleasing anyone.”

  “A king doesn’t have to please anyone,” Cett snapped. “He’s the one with the army—that means other people have to please him.”

  “Actually,” Ham said, rubbing his chin, “that theory can’t be true. A king has to please somebody—after all, even if he intended to force everyone to do what he said, he’d still have to at least please his army. But then, I guess if the army is pleased simply by being allowed to push people around, you might have an argument . . .”

  Ham trailed off, looking thoughtful, and Cett scowled. “Does everything have to be some damn logic puzzle to you?” he demanded. Ham just continued to rub his chin.

  Elend smiled, glancing at his cabin again. It was good to hear Ham acting like himself. Cett protested Ham’s comments almost as much as Breeze did. In fact . . . Maybe that’s why Ham hasn’t been quite so prone to his little logic puzzles lately, Elend thought. There hasn’t been anyone around to complain about them.

  “So, Elend . . .” Cett
said. “If you die, I’m in charge, right?”

  “Vin will take command if something happens to me,” Elend said. “You know that.”

  “Right,” Cett said. “And if both of you die?”

  “Sazed is next in the imperial succession after Vin, Cett. We’ve discussed that.”

  “Yes, but what about this army?” Cett said. “Sazed is off in Urteau. Who leads these men until we meet up with him?”

  Elend sighed. “If, somehow, Yomen manages to kill both Vin and myself, then I suggest that you run—because yes, you’d be in charge here, and the Mistborn who killed us is likely to come for you next.”

  Cett smiled in satisfaction, though Ham frowned at this.

  “You’ve never wanted titles, Ham,” Elend pointed out. “And you’ve chafed at every leadership position I’ve given you.”

  “I know,” he said. “But what about Demoux?”

  “Cett has more experience,” Elend said. “He’s a better man than he pretends, Ham. I trust him. That will have to be enough for you. Cett, if things turn bad, I charge you with returning to Luthadel and searching out Sazed to tell him that he’s emperor. Now, I think that—”

  Elend paused as the door to his cabin opened. He turned, putting on his best consoling smile, then froze.

  Vin stood in the doorway wearing a stunning black gown with silver trim, cut after a modern fashion. Somehow, it managed to look sleek despite the bell-shaped skirt, which fanned out with petticoats. Her pure black hair, which she often wore pulled back in a tail, was down, and it now reached to her collarbone, neatly trimmed and curling just slightly. The only jewelry she wore was her simple earring, the one she’d gotten from her mother when she was just a child.

  He always thought she was beautiful. And yet . . . how long had it been since he’d seen her in a gown, with her hair and makeup done? He tried to say something, give her a compliment, but his voice just kind of trailed off.

  She walked over on light feet, kissing him briefly. “I’ll take that as an indication that I managed to put this thing on right. I’d forgotten what a pain gowns could be. And the makeup! Honestly, Elend, you’re never allowed to complain about those suits of yours again.”

  Beside them, Ham was chuckling. Vin turned. “What?”

  “Ah, Vin,” Ham said, leaning back and folding his muscular arms, “when did you go and grow up on me? It seems like just last week you were scrambling about, hiding in corners, wearing the haircut of a boy and the attitude of a mouse.”

  Vin smiled fondly. “Do you remember when we first met? You thought I was a twixt.”

  Ham nodded. “Breeze nearly fainted dead away when he found we’d been talking with a Mistborn all that time! Honestly, Vin. Sometimes I can’t believe that you were that same frightened girl Kelsier brought into the crew.”

  “It has been five years, Ham. I’m twenty-one now.”

  “I know,” Ham said, sighing. “You’re like my own children, adults before I had time to know them as kids. In fact, I probably know you and El better than I know any of them . . .”

  “You’ll get back to them, Ham,” Vin said, reaching over and laying a hand on his shoulder. “Once this is all over.”

  “Oh, I know that,” he said, smiling, ever the optimist. “But, you can never have back what you’ve missed. I hope all this turns out to be worth it.”

  Elend shook his head, finally finding his voice. “I have only one thing to say. If that dress is what the cooking girls are wearing, I’m paying them far too much.”

  Vin laughed.

  “Seriously, Vin,” Elend said. “The army’s tailors are good, but there’s no way that dress came from materials we had in camp. Where did you get it?”

  “It’s a mystery,” Vin said, narrowing her eyes and smiling. “We Mistborn are incredibly mysterious.”

  Elend paused. “Um . . . I’m Mistborn too, Vin. That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “We Mistborn need not make sense,” Vin said. “It’s beneath us. Come on—the sun’s already down. We need to get moving.”

  “Have fun dancing with our enemies,” Ham said as Vin hopped from the boat, then Pushed herself up through the mists. Elend waved farewell, Pushing himself into the air as well. As he shot away, his tin-enhanced ears heard Ham’s voice talking to Cett.

  “So . . . you can’t go anywhere unless someone carries you, right?” the Thug asked.

  Cett grunted.

  “Well then,” Ham said, sounding very pleased. “I’ve got quite a number of philosophical puzzles you might enjoy. . . .”

  Allomantic jumping was not easy when one was wearing a ball gown. Every time Vin started to descend, the bottom of the dress flared up around her, ruffling and flapping like a flock of startled birds.

  Vin wasn’t particularly worried about showing off what was under the dress. Not only was it too dark for most people to see, but she wore leggings beneath the petticoats. Unfortunately, flapping dresses—and the drag they created in the air—made steering a jump much more difficult. They also made a lot of noise. She wondered what the guards thought as she passed over the rocky shelves that were the natural city walls. To her ear, she sounded like a dozen waving flags, beating against themselves in the middle of a windstorm.

  She finally slowed, aiming for a rooftop that had been cleared of ash. She hit lightly, bouncing up and spinning, dress flaring, before landing and waiting for Elend. He followed, landing less smoothly with a hard thump and a grunt. It wasn’t that he was bad at Pushing and Pulling—he just hadn’t had as much practice as Vin. She’d probably been much like him during her first years as an Allomancer.

  Well . . . maybe not like him, she thought fondly as Elend dusted himself off. But, I’m sure a lot of other Allomancers were about at Elend’s level after only a year of practice.

  “That was quite the series of jumps, Vin,” Elend said, puffing slightly as he glanced back toward the cliff-like rock formations, their fires burning high in the night. Elend wore his standard white military uniform, one of the same ones that Tindwyl had designed for him. He’d had this one scrubbed free of ash, and he’d gotten his beard trimmed.

  “I couldn’t land often,” Vin explained. “These white petticoats will stain with ash easily. Come on—we need to get inside.”

  Elend turned, smiling in the darkness. He actually looked excited. “The dress. You paid a dressmaker inside the city to make it for you?”

  “Actually, I paid a friend inside the city to have it made for me, and to get me the makeup.” She jumped away, heading toward Keep Orielle—which, according to Slowswift, was the site of the evening’s ball. She kept to the air, never landing. Elend followed behind, using the same coins.

  Soon, they approached a burst of color in the mists, like an aurora from one of Sazed’s stories. The bubble of light turned into the massive keep she had seen during her previous infiltration, its stained-glass windows shining from the inside. Vin angled herself downward, streaking through the mists. She briefly considered dropping to the ground out in the courtyard—away from watchful eyes—so that she and Elend could approach the doors subtly. Then she decided against it.

  This wasn’t an evening for subtlety.

  So, instead she dropped directly down onto the carpeted steps leading up to the main entrance of the castle-like building. Her landing blew away flakes of ash, creating a little pocket of cleanliness. Elend landed beside her a second later, then stood up straight, his brilliant white cape flapping around him. At the top of the steps, a pair of uniformed servants had been greeting guests and ushering them into the building. Both men froze, stunned expressions on their faces.

  Elend held out his arm to Vin. “Shall we?”

  Vin took the arm. “Yes,” she said. “Preferably before those men can get the guards.”

  They strode up the steps, sounds of surprise coming from behind, where a small group of noblemen had been exiting their carriage. Ahead, one of the servants moved forward and cut off Vin and Elend. Elend caref
ully placed a hand against the man’s chest, then shoved him aside with a pewter-fueled push. The man stumbled backward into the wall. The other one went running for the guards.

  Inside the antechamber, waiting nobility began to whisper and question. Vin heard them asking if anyone recognized these strange newcomers, one in black, the other in white. Elend strode forward firmly, Vin at his side, causing people to stumble over themselves and move out of the way. Elend and Vin passed quickly through the small room, and Elend handed a name card to a servant who waited to announce arrivals into the ballroom proper.

  They waited on the servant, and Vin realized that she’d begun holding her breath. It seemed as if she were reliving a dream—or was it a fond memory? For a moment, she was that same young girl of over four years before, arriving at Keep Venture for her very first ball, nervous and worried that she wouldn’t be able to play her part.

  Yet, she felt none of that same insecurity. She didn’t worry if she’d find acceptance or belief. She’d slain the Lord Ruler. She’d married Elend Venture. And—more remarkable than either accomplishment—somehow in the chaos and mess she’d discovered who she was. Not a girl of the streets, though that was where she’d been raised. Not a woman of the court, though she appreciated the beauty and grace of the balls. Someone else.

  Someone she liked.

  The servant reread Elend’s card, growing pale. He looked up. Elend met the man’s eyes, then gave a small nod, as if to say, “Yes, I’m afraid that it’s true.”

  The servant cleared his throat, and Elend led Vin into the ballroom.

  “High Emperor, Lord Elend Venture,” the servant announced in a clear voice. “And the Empress Vin Venture, Heir of the Survivor, Hero of Ages.”

  The entire ballroom grew suddenly—and unnaturally—quiet. Vin and Elend paused at the front of the room, giving the gathered nobility a chance to see them. It appeared that Keep Orielle’s grand main hall, like Keep Venture’s, was also its ballroom. However, instead of being tall with a broad, arched roof, this room had a relatively low ceiling and small, intricate designs in the stonework. It was as if the architect had tried for beauty on a delicate scale, rather than an imposing one.