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Authors: Brandon Sanderson

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BOOK: Mistborn: The Hero of Ages
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Marsh shoved aside the two watching
soldiers, kicking the door down and bursting into the antechamber.

Right. To the bedchamber.

Marsh was through the room in a heartbeat, the two soldiers belatedly screaming for help outside. Penrod was an aging man with a dignif ied air. He had the presence of mind to leap from his bed at the sounds, grabbing a hardwood dueling cane from its place atop his nightstand. Marsh smiled. A dueling cane? Against an Inquisitor? He pulled his obsidian hand axe from the sheath at his side.

Fight him,
Ruin said,
but do not kill him. Make it a dif f icult battle, but allow him to f eel that he 's
holding you o f f.

It was an odd request, but Marsh's mind was so directly controlled that he couldn't even pause to think about it. He could simply leap forward to attack. It was harder than it seemed. He had to make sure to strike with the axe in ways that Penrod could block. Several times, he had to tap speed from one of his spikes which doubled as a Feruchemical metalmind to suddenly inch his axe in the right direction, lest he accidentally behead the king of Luthadel.

Yet, Marsh did it. He cut Penrod a few times, fighting all the while with the small spike held hidden in his left palm, letting the king think he was doing well. Within moments, the guards had joined the fight, which allowed Marsh to keep up appearances even better. Three normal men against an Inquisitor was still no contest, but from their perspectives, maybe it would seem like one. It wasn't long before a troop of some dozen guards burst into the chamber outside the bedroom, coming to aid their king.

Now,
Ruin said.
A ct frightened, get ready to put the spike in, and prepare to f lee out the window.
Marsh tapped speed and moved. Ruin guided his hand precisely as he slammed his left hand into Penrod's chest, driving the spike directly into the man's heart. Marsh heard Penrod scream, smiled at the sound, and leaped out the window.

A short time later, Marsh hung outside that same window, unseen and unnoticed, even by the numerous guard patrols. He was far too skilled, far too careful, to be spotted listening with tinenhanced ears, hanging underneath an outcropping of stone near the window. Inside, surgeons conferred.

"When we try to pull the spike out, the bleeding increases dramatically, my lord," one voice explained.

"The shard of metal got dangerously close to your heart," said another. Dangerousl y close? Marsh thought with a smile from his upside-down perch.
The spike pierced his
heart.
But, of course, the surgeons couldn't know that. Since Penrod was conscious, they would assume that the spike had come close, but somehow just barely missed.

"We fear pulling it out," the first surgeon said. "How . . . do you feel ? "

"Remarkably good, actually," s aid Penrod. "There is an ache, and some discomfort. But I f eel strong."

"Then let us leave the shard, for now," the first surgeon said, sounding concerned. But, what else could he do? If he
did
pull the spike out, it
would
kill Penrod. A clever move by Ruin. They would wait for Penrod to regain his strength, then try again to remove the spike. Again, it would threaten Penrod's life. They'd ha ve to leave it. And, with Ruin now able to touch his mind not control him, just nudge things in certain directions Penrod would soon forget about the spike. The discomfort would fade, and with . 102 201

the spike under his clothing, no one would f ind it irregular.

And then he would be Ruin's as surely as any Inquisitor. Marsh smiled, let go of the outcropping, and dropped to the dark streets below. . 103 201

For all that it disgusts me, I cannot help but be impressed by Hemalurgy as an art. In Allomanc y and
Feruchemy, skill and subtlety come through the application o f one's powers. The best A llomancer
might not be the most powerful, but instead the one who can best manipulate the Pushes and Pulls of
metals. The best Feruchemist is the one who is most capable of sorting the information in his
copperminds, or best able to manipulate his weight with iron.

The art that is unique to Hemalurgy, however, is the knowledge of where to place the s pikes.
43

VIN LANDED WITH A HUSHED
rustle of cloth. She crouched in the night, holding up her dress to keep it from brushing the ashen roof top, then peered into the mists.

Elend dropped beside her, then fell into a crouch, asking no questions. She smiled, noting that his instincts were getting better. He w atched the mists too, though he obviously didn't know what he was looking for.

"He's following us," Vin whispered.

"Yomen's Mistborn?" Elend asked.

Vin nodded.

"Where?" he asked.

"Three houses back," Vin said.

Elend squinted, and she felt one of his Allomantic pulses suddenly increase in speed. He was flaring tin.

"That lump on the right side?" Elend asked.

"Close enough," Vin said.

"So . . ."

"So, he knows I've spotted him," Vin said. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have stopped. Right now, we're studying one another."

Elend reached to his belt, slipping out an obsidian knife.

"He won't attack," Vin said.

"How do you know ? "

"Because," Vin said. "When he intends to kill us, he'll try to do it when you and I aren't together or when we're sleeping."

That seemed to make Elend even more nervous . "Is that why you've been staying up all night lately?" Vin nodded. Forcing Elend to sleep alone was a small price to pay for keeping him safe. Is it you back
there f ollowing us, Yomen?
she wondered.
On the night o f your
own part y? That would be quite the feat. It didn't seem likely; but still, Vin was suspicious. She had a habit of suspecting
ever yone
of being Mistborn. She still thought it was healthy, even if she had been wrong more often than not.

"Come on," she said, rising. " Once we get into the party, we shouldn't have to worry about him." Elend nodded, and the two continued along their path to the Canton of Resource .
The plan is simple,
Elend had said just hours before.
I'll confront Yomen, and the nobility won't be
able to help gathering around to gawk. At that point, you sneak away and see if you can
f ind your way to the storage chamber.

It really was a simple plan the best ones usually were. If Elend conf ronted Yomen, it would keep the attention of the guards on him, hopefully letting Vin slip out. She'd have to move quickly and quietly, and would probably have to eliminate some guards all without raising an alarm. Yet, this appeared to be the only way in. Not only was Yomen's fortress-like building well lit and extremely well guarded, but his Mistborn was good. The man had detected her every other time she'd tried to sneak in always remaining at a distance, his mere presence warning her that he could raise the alarm in a heartbeat. Their best chance was the ball. Yomen's defenses, and his Mistborn, would be focused on their master, keeping him safe.

They landed in the courtyard, c ausing carriages to stop and guards to turn in shock. Vin glanced to Elend in the misty darkness . "Elend," she said quietly, "I need you to promise me something." He frowned. "What? "

"Eventually, I'm going to get spotted," Vin said. "I'll sneak as best I can, but I doubt we'll get through this without creating a disturbance. When it hits, I want you to get out."

"Vin, I can't do that. I have to "

"No," Vin said sharply. "Elend, you don't have to help me. You
can't
help me. I love you, but you're j ust not as good at this as I am. I can take care of myself, but I need to know that I won't have to take care of you, too. If anything
goes
wrong or, if things go right, but the building goes on alert I want you to get out. I'll meet you at the camp."

"And if you get into trouble ?" E lend said.

Vin smiled. "Trust me."

He paused, then nodded. Trusting her was one thing he could obviously do something he'd always done .

The two strode forward. It felt very strange to be attending a ball at a Ministry building. Vin was accustomed to stained glass and ornamentation, but Canton office s were generally austere and this one was no exception. It was only a single story tall, and it had sharp, flat walls with very small windows. No limelights illuminated the outside, and while a couple of large tapestry banners f luttered against the stonework, the only indication that this night was special was the cluster of carriages and nobility in the courtyard. The soldiers in the area had noted Vin and Elend, but made no move to engage or even slow them.

Those watching both nobility and soldiers were interested, but few of them looked surprised. Vin and Elend were expected. Vin's hunch about that was confirmed when she moved up the steps, and nobody moved to intercept them. The guards at the door watched suspiciously, but let her and Elend pas s.

Inside, she found a long entry hall, lit by lamps. The flow of people turned left, so Vin and Elend followed, twisting through a few labyrinthine corridors until they approached a larger meeting hall.

"Not exactly the most impressive place for a ball, eh? " Elend said as they waited their turn to be announced.

Vin nodded. Most noble keeps had exterior entrances directly into their ballroom. The room ahead from what she could see of it had been adapted from a standard Ministry meeting room. Rivets covered the floor where benches had once been, and there was a stage on the far side of the room, where obligators had probably once stood to give instruction to their subordinates. This was where Yomen's table had been set up.

It was too small to be a truly practical ballroom. The people inside weren't cramped, exactly, but neither did they have the space the nobility pref erred for forming separate little groups where they could gossip.

"Looks like there are other party rooms," Elend said, nodding to several corridors leading from the main "ballroom." People were trailing in and out of them. "Places for people to go if they f eel too crowded," Vin said. "This is going to be a tough place to escape, Elend. Don't let yourself get cornered. Looks like an exit over there to the left."

Elend followed her gaze as they walked into the main room. Flickering torchlight and trails of mist indicated a courtyard or atrium. "I'll stay close to it," he said. "And avoid going to any of the smaller side rooms."

"Good," Vin said. She also noted something else twice during the trip through the corridors to the ballroom, she'd seen stairwells leading down. That implied a fairly large basement, something uncommon back in Luthadel. The Canton building goes down, rather than up, she decided. It made sense, assuming that there really was a storage cache below.

The door herald announced them without needing a card to read from, and the two entered the room. The party was nowhere near as lavish as the one at Keep Orielle had been. There were snacks, but no dinner likely because there wasn't room for dining tables. There was music and dancing, but the room was not draped in finery. Yomen had elected to leave the simple, stark Ministry walls uncovered.

"I wonder why he even bothers to hold balls," Vin whispered.

"He probably had to start them," Elend said. "To prompt the other nobility. Now he's part of the rotation. It's smart of him, though. It gives a man some measure of power to be able to draw the nobility into his home and be their host."

Vin nodded, then eyed the dance f loor. " One dance before we split up?" Elend wavered. " To tell you the truth, I feel a bit too nervous." Vin smiled, then kissed him lightly, completely breaking noble protocol. " Give me about an hour before the distraction. I want to get a feel for the party before I sneak away ." He nodded, and they split, Elend heading directly for a group of men that Vin didn't recognize. Vin herself kept moving. She didn't want to get bogged down by conversation, so she avoided the women she recognized from Keep Orielle. She knew that she should probably have worked to reinforce her contacts, but the truth was that she felt a little bit of what Elend did. Not truly nervousness, but rather a desire to avoid typical ball activities. She wasn't here to mingle. She had more important tasks to be concerned with.

So, she meandered through the ballroom, sipping a cup of wine and studying the guards. There were a lot of them, which was probably good. The more guards there were in the ballroom, the fewer there would be in the rest of the building. Theoretical ly.

Vin kept moving, nodding to people, but withdrawing anytime one of them tried to make conversation with her. If she had been Yomen, she would have ordered a few particular soldiers to keep watch on her, just to make certain that she didn't stray anywhere sensitive. Yet, none of the men seemed to be all that focused on her. As the hour passed, she grew more and more frustrated. Was Yomen really so incompetent that he wouldn't keep watch on a known Mistborn who entered his home base? . 104 201

Annoyed, Vin burned bronze. Perhaps there were Allomancers nearby. She nearly jumped in shock when she felt the Allomantic pulsings coming from just beside her.

There were two of them. Courtly puffs women whose names she didn't know, but who looked distinctly dismissible. That was probably the idea. They stood chatting with a couple of other w omen a short distance f rom Vin. One was burning copper, the other was burning tin Vin would never have picked them out if she hadn't had the ability to pierce copperclouds.

As Vin drifted through the room, the two followed, moving with an impressive level of skill as they slid in and out of conversations. They always stuck close enough to Vin to be within tin-enhanced hearing range, yet stayed far enough away in the relatively crowded room that Vin would never have picked them out without Allomantic help.

Interesting, she thought, moving toward the perimeter of the room. At least Yomen wasn't underestimating her. But now, how to give the women the slip? They wouldn't be distracted by Elend's disturbance, and they certainly wouldn't let Vin sneak away without raising an alarm. As she wandered, working on the problem, she noted a familiar f igure sitting at the edge of the ballroom. Slowswift sat in his usual suit, smoking his pipe as he relaxed in one of the chairs set out for the elderly or the overdanced. She trailed over toward him.

BOOK: Mistborn: The Hero of Ages
6.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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