Mistborn Trilogy

by Sanderson, Brandon

  “You think I would believe that?” Elend said.

  “Believe what you wish,” Straff said.

  “And the koloss army marching this way?” Elend asked, playing one of their trump cards.

  This made Straff pause.

  “If you want to take Luthadel before those koloss get here, Father,” Elend said, “then I think you might want to be a little more accommodating toward the man who’s come, offering you everything you want. I only ask one thing—let me have a victory. Let me fight Cett, secure my legacy. Then you can have the city.”

  Straff thought about it, thought about it long enough that Elend dared to hope he might just have won. Then, however, Straff shook his head. “No, I think not. I’ll take my chances with Cett. I don’t know why he is willing to let me have Luthadel, but he doesn’t seem to care much about it.”

  “And you do?” Elend said. “You know we don’t have the atium. What does the city matter to you now?”

  Straff leaned forward a bit farther. Elend could smell his breath, odorous from the dinner spices. “That’s where you are wrong about me, boy. That’s why—even if you’d been able to promise me that atium—you would never have left this camp tonight. I made a mistake a year ago. If I’d stayed in Luthadel, I would have been the one on that throne. Instead, it was you. I can’t imagine why—I guess a weak Venture was still better than the other alternatives.”

  Straff was everything Elend had hated about the old empire. Presumptuous. Cruel. Arrogant.

  Weakness, Elend thought, calming himself. I can’t be threatening. He shrugged. “It’s only a city, Father. From my position, it doesn’t matter half as much as your army.”

  “It’s more than a city,” Straff said. “It’s the Lord Ruler’s city—and it has my home in it. My keep. I understand that you’re using it as your palace.”

  “I didn’t really have any other place to go.”

  Straff turned back to his meal. “All right,” he said in between cutting chunks of steak, “at first, I thought you were an idiot for coming tonight, but now I’m not so certain. You must have seen the inevitable.”

  “You’re stronger,” Elend said. “I can’t stand up to you.”

  Straff nodded. “You’ve impressed me, boy. Wearing proper clothing, getting yourself a Mistborn mistress, maintaining control of the city. I’m going to let you live.”

  “Thank you,” Elend said.

  “And, in exchange, you’re going to give me Luthadel.”

  “As soon as Cett is dealt with.”

  Straff laughed. “No, that’s not the way these things work, boy. We’re not negotiating. You’re listening to my orders. Tomorrow, we’ll ride to the city together, and you’ll order the gates opened. I’ll march my army in and take command, and Luthadel will become the new capital of my kingdom. If you stay in line and do as I say, I’ll name you heir again.”

  “We can’t do that,” Elend said. “I left orders that the gates weren’t to be opened to you, no matter what.”

  Straff paused.

  “My advisors thought you might try and use Vin as a hostage, forcing me to relinquish the city,” Elend said. “If we go together, they’ll assume you’re threatening me.”

  Straff’s mood darkened. “You’d better hope that they don’t.”

  “They will,” Elend said. “I know these men, Father. They’d be eager for an excuse to take the city away from me.”

  “Then, why come here?”

  “To do as I said,” Elend said. “To negotiate an alliance against Cett. I can deliver Luthadel to you—but I still need time. Let’s take down Cett first.”

  Straff grabbed his dinner knife by the hilt and slammed it down into the table. “I said this wasn’t a negotiation! You don’t make demands, boy. I could have you killed!”

  “I’m just stating facts, Father,” Elend said quickly. “I don’t want to—”

  “You’ve gotten smooth,” Straff said, eyes narrowing. “What did you hope to accomplish with this game? Coming to my camp? Bringing nothing to offer…” He paused, then continued. “Nothing to offer except for that girl. Pretty little thing, she is.”

  Elend flushed. “That won’t get you into the city. Remember, my advisors thought you might try threatening her.”

  “Fine,” Straff snapped. “You die; I take the city by force.”

  “And Cett attacks you from behind,” Elend said. “Pinning you against our wall and forcing you to fight surrounded.”

  “He’d take heavy losses,” Straff said. “He wouldn’t be able to take and hold the city after that.”

  “Even with diminished forces, he’d have a better chance of taking it from us than he would if he waited and then tried to take it from you.”

  Straff stood. “I’ll have to take that chance. I left you behind before. I’m not going to let you loose again, boy. Those cursed skaa were supposed to kill you and leave me free of you.”

  Elend stood as well. However, he could see the resolve in Straff’s eyes.

  It isn’t working, Elend thought, panic beginning to set in. This plan had been a gamble, but he hadn’t ever really thought that he’d fail. Indeed, he’d played his cards well. But, something was wrong—something he hadn’t anticipated, and still didn’t understand. Why was Straff resisting so much?

  I’m too new to this, Elend thought. Ironically, if he had let his father train him better as a child, he might have known what he’d done wrong. As it was, he suddenly realized the gravity of his situation. Surrounded by a hostile army. Separated from Vin.

  He was going to die.

  “Wait!” Elend said desperately.

  “Ah,” Straff said smiling. “Finally realized what you’ve gotten yourself into?” There was pleasure in Straff’s smile. Eagerness. There had always been something inside Straff that had enjoyed hurting others, though Elend had rarely seen it applied to him. Propriety had always been there to stop Straff.

  Propriety enforced by the Lord Ruler. At that moment, Elend saw murder in his father’s eyes.

  “You never intended to let me live,” Elend said. “Even if I’d given you the atium, even if I’d gone with you to the city.”

  “You were dead the moment I decided to march here,” Straff said. “Idiot boy. I do thank you for bringing me that girl, though. I’ll take her tonight. We’ll see if she cries my name or yours while I’m—”

  Elend laughed.

  It was a desperate laugh, a laugh at the ridiculous situation he’d gotten himself into, a laugh at his sudden worry and fear—but most of all, it was a laugh at the idea of Straff trying to force himself upon Vin. “You have no idea how foolish you sound,” Elend said.

  Straff flushed. “For that, boy, I’ll be extra rough with her.”

  “You are a pig, Father,” Elend said. “A sick, disgusting man. You thought you were a brilliant leader, but you were barely competent. You nearly got our house destroyed—only the Lord Ruler’s own death saved you!”

  Straff called for his guards.

  “You may take Luthadel,” Elend said, “but you’ll lose it! I may have been a bad king, but you’ll be a terrible one. The Lord Ruler was a tyrant, but he was also a genius. You’re neither. You’re just a selfish man who’ll use up his resources, then end up dead from a knife in the back.”

  Straff pointed at Elend as soldiers rushed in. Elend didn’t cringe. He’d grown up with this man, been raised by him, been tortured by him. And, despite it all, Elend had never spoken his mind. He’d rebelled with the petty timidity of a teenage boy, but he’d never spoken the truth.

  It felt good. It felt right.

  Perhaps playing the weak hand was a mistake against Straff. He always was fond of crushing things.

  And suddenly Elend knew what he had to do. He smiled, looking Straff in the eyes.

  “Kill me, Father,” he said, “and you’ll die, too.”

  “Kill me, Father,” Elend said, “and you’ll die, too.”

  Vin paused. She stood outside the
tent, in the darkness of early night. She’d been standing with Straff’s soldiers, but they’d rushed in at his command. She’d moved into the darkness, and now stood on the north side of the tent, watching the shadowed forms move within.

  She’d been about to burst in. Elend hadn’t been doing very well—not that he was a bad negotiator. He was just too honest by nature. It wasn’t difficult to tell when he was bluffing, especially if you knew him well.

  But, this new proclamation was different. It wasn’t a sign of Elend attempting to be clever, nor was it an angry outburst like the one he’d made moments before. Suddenly, he seemed calm and forceful.

  Vin waited quietly, her daggers out, tense in the mists before the glowing tent. Something told her she had to give Elend just a few more moments.

  Straff laughed at Elend’s threat.

  “You are a fool, Father,” Elend said. “You think I came here to negotiate? You think I would willingly deal with one such as you? No. You know me better than that. You know that I’d never submit to you.”

  “Then why?” Straff asked.

  She could almost hear Elend’s smile. “I came to get near you, Father…and to bring my Mistborn to the very heart of your camp.”

  Silence.

  Finally, Straff laughed. “You threaten me with that wisp of a girl? If that’s the great Mistborn of Luthadel I’ve been hearing of, then I’m sorely disappointed.”

  “That’s because she wants you to feel that way,” Elend said. “Think, Father. You were suspicious, and the girl confirmed those suspicions. But, if she’s as good as the rumors say—and I know you’ve heard the rumors—then how would you have spotted her touch on your emotions?

  “You caught her Soothing you, and you called her on it. Then, you didn’t feel the touch anymore, so you assumed that she was cowed. But, after that, you began to feel confident. Comfortable. You dismissed Vin as a threat—but would any rational man dismiss a Mistborn, no matter how small or quiet? In fact, you’d think that the small, quiet ones would be the assassins you’d want to pay the most attention to.”

  Vin smiled. Clever, she thought. She reached out, Rioting Straff’s emotions, flaring her metal and stoking his sense of anger. He gasped in sudden shock. Take the clue, Elend.

  “Fear,” Elend said.

  She Soothed away Straff’s anger and exchanged it for fear.

  “Passion.”

  She complied.

  “Calmness.”

  She soothed everything away. Inside the tent, she saw Straff’s shadow standing stiffly. An Allomancer couldn’t force a person to do anything—and usually, strong Pushes or Pulls on an emotion were less effective, since they alerted the target that something was wrong. In this case, however, Vin wanted Straff to know for certain she was watching.

  She smiled, extinguishing her tin. Then she burned duralumin and Soothed Straff’s emotions with explosive pressure, wiping away all capacity for feeling within him. His shadow stumbled beneath the attack.

  Her brass was gone a moment later, and she turned on her tin again, watching the black patterns on the canvas.

  “She’s powerful, Father,” Elend said. “She’s more powerful than any Allomancer you’ve known. She killed the Lord Ruler. She was trained by the Survivor of Hathsin. And if you kill me, she’ll kill you.”

  Straff righted himself, and the tent fell silent again.

  A footstep sounded. Vin spun, ducking, raising her dagger.

  A familiar figure stood in the night mists. “Why is it I can never sneak up on you?” Zane asked quietly.

  Vin shrugged and turned back to the tent—but moved herself so she could keep an eye on Zane, too. He walked over and crouched beside her, watching the shadows.

  “That’s hardly a useful threat,” Straff finally said from within. “You’ll be dead, even if your Mistborn does get to me.”

  “Ah, Father,” Elend said. “I was wrong about your interest in Luthadel. However, you’re also wrong about me—you’ve always been wrong about me. I don’t care if I die, not if it brings safety to my people.”

  “Cett will take the city if I’m gone,” Straff said.

  “I think my people might be able to hold against him,” Elend said. “After all, he has the smaller army.”

  “This is idiocy!” Straff snapped. He didn’t, however, order his soldiers forward any farther.

  “Kill me, and you die, too,” Elend said. “And not just you. Your generals. Your captains. Even your obligators. She has orders to slaughter you all.”

  Zane took a step closer to Vin, his feet crunching slightly on the packed-down weeds that made up the floor of the camp. “Ah,” he whispered, “clever. No matter how strong your opponent is, he can’t attack if you’ve got a knife at his throat.”

  Zane leaned even closer, and Vin looked up at him, their faces just inches from each other. He shook his head in the soft mists. “But tell me—why is it that people like you and me always have to be the knives?”

  Inside the tent, Straff was growing concerned. “No one is that powerful, boy,” he said, “not even a Mistborn. She might be able to kill some of my generals, but she’d never get to me. I have my own Mistborn.”

  “Oh?” Elend said. “And why hasn’t he killed her? Because he’s afraid to attack? If you kill me, Father—if you even make so much as a move toward my city—then she’ll begin the slaughter. Men will die like prisoners before the fountains on a day of execution.”

  “I thought you said he was above this kind of thing,” Zane whispered. “You claimed you weren’t his tool. You said he wouldn’t use you as an assassin….”

  Vin shuffled uncomfortably. “He’s bluffing, Zane,” she said. “He’d never actually do anything like that.”

  “She is an Allomancer like you’ve never seen, Father,” Elend said, voice muffled by the tent. “I’ve seen her fight other Allomancers—none of them can even touch her.”

  “Is that true?” Zane asked.

  Vin paused. Elend hadn’t actually ever seen her attack other Allomancers. “He saw me attack some soldiers once, and I’ve told him about my fights with other Allomancers.”

  “Ah,” Zane said softly. “So it’s only a small lie, then. Those are fine when one is king. Many things are. Exploiting one person to save an entire kingdom? What leader wouldn’t pay such a cheap price? Your freedom in exchange for his victory.”

  “He’s not using me,” Vin said.

  Zane stood. Vin turned slightly, watching carefully as he walked into the mists, away from tents, torches, and soldiers. He paused, standing a short distance away, looking up. Even with the light of tent and fires, this camp was claimed by the mists. It spun all around them. From within it, the torchlight and campfires seemed insignificant. Like dying coals.

  “What is this to him,” Zane said quietly, sweeping a hand around him. “Can he ever understand the mists? Can he ever understand you?”

  “He loves me,” Vin said, glancing back at the shadowed forms. They had fallen quiet for a moment, Straff obviously considering Elend’s threats.

  “He loves you?” Zane asked. “Or he loves having you?”

  “Elend isn’t like that,” Vin said. “He’s a good man.”

  “Good or not, you aren’t like him,” Zane said, voice echoing in the night to her tin-enhanced ears. “Can he understand what it is like to be one of us? Can he know the things we know, care about the things we love? Has he ever seen those?” Zane gestured upward, toward the sky. Far beyond the mists, lights shone in the sky, like tiny freckles. Stars, invisible to the normal eye. Only a person burning tin could penetrate the mists and see them shining.

  She remembered the first time Kelsier had shown them to her. She remembered how stunned she had been that the stars had been there all along, invisible beyond the mists….

  Zane continued to point upward. “Lord Ruler!” Vin whispered, taking a small step away from the tent. Through the swirling mists, in the reflected light of the tent, she could see something on Zane
’s arm.

  The skin was covered with thin white streaks. Scars.

  Zane immediately lowered his arm, hiding the scarred flesh with his sleeve.

  “You were in the Pits of Hathsin,” Vin said quietly. “Like Kelsier.”

  Zane looked away.

  “I’m sorry,” Vin said.

  Zane turned back, smiling in the night. It was a firm, confident smile. He stepped forward. “I understand you, Vin.”

  Then he bowed slightly to her and jumped away, disappearing into the mists. Inside the room, Straff spoke to Elend.

  “Go. Leave here.”

  The carriage rolled away. Straff stood outside his tent, heedless of the mists, still feeling a bit stunned.

  I let him go. Why did I let him go?

  Yet—even now—he could feel her touch slamming against him. One emotion after another, like a treasonous maelstrom within him, and then…nothing. Like a massive hand, grabbing his soul and squeezing it into painful submission. It had felt the way he thought death might.

  No Allomancer could be that powerful.

  Zane respects her, Straff thought. And everyone says she killed the Lord Ruler. That little thing. It couldn’t be.

  It seemed impossible. And apparently, that was just the way she wanted it to seem.

  Everything had been going so well. The information provided by Zane’s kandra spy had been accurate: Elend did try to make an alliance. The frightening thing about it was that Straff might have gone along with it, assuming Elend to be of no consequence, if the spy hadn’t sent warning.

  Even so, Elend had bested him. Straff had even been prepared for their feint of weakness, and he had still fallen.

  She’s so powerful….

  A figure in black stepped out of the mists and walked up to Straff. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Father,” Zane said with a smile. “Your own, perhaps?”

  “Was there anyone else out there, Zane?” Straff asked, too shaken for repartee at the moment. “Another couple of Mistborn, perhaps, helping her?”

  Zane shook his head. “No. She really is that strong.” He turned to walk back out into the mists.