The Mistborn Trilogy (104 page)

The young woman’s expensive dress—light red silk with a shawl and lace sleeves—might have lent her an air of dignity, had she not scampered forward as soon as Breeze entered the room. Her light Western hair bouncing, she made a squeal of happiness as she threw her arms around Breeze’s neck.

She was, perhaps, eighteen years old.

Elend glanced at Ham, who stood dumbfounded.

“Well, looks like you were right about Breeze and Cett’s daughter,” Elend whispered.

Ham shook his head. “I didn’t think…I mean I joked, because it was Breeze, but I didn’t expect to be
right
!”

Breeze, for his part, at least had the decency to look terribly uncomfortable in the young woman’s arms. They stood inside the palace atrium, the same place where Elend had met with his father’s messenger. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the afternoon light, and a group of servants stood at one side of the room to wait on Elend’s orders.

Breeze met Elend’s eyes, blushing deeply.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him do that before,
Elend thought.

“My dear,” Breeze said, clearing his throat, “perhaps you should introduce yourself to the king?”

The girl finally let go of Breeze. She stepped back, curtsying to Elend with a noblewoman’s grace. She was a bit plump, her hair long after pre-Collapse fashion, and her cheeks were red with excitement. She was a cute thing, obviously well trained for the court—exactly the sort of girl that Elend had spent his youth trying to avoid.

“Elend,” Breeze said, “might I introduce Allrianne Cett, daughter to Lord Ashweather Cett, king of the Western Dominance?”

“Your Majesty,” Allrianne said.

Elend nodded. “Lady Cett.” He paused, then—with a hopeful voice—continued. “Your father sent you as an ambassador?”

Allrianne paused. “Um…he didn’t exactly send me, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, dear,” Breeze said, pulling out a handkerchief to dab his brow.

Elend glanced at Ham, then back at the girl. “Perhaps you should explain,” he said, gesturing toward the atrium’s seats. Allrianne nodded eagerly, but stayed close to Breeze as they sat. Elend waved for some servants to bring chilled wine.

He had a feeling he was going to want something to drink.

“I seek asylum, Your Majesty,” Allrianne said, speaking with a quick voice. “I had to go. I mean, Breezy must have told you how my father is!”

Breeze sat uncomfortably, and Allrianne put an affectionate hand on his knee.

“How your father is?” Elend asked.

“He is so manipulative,” Allrianne said. “So
demanding
. He drove Breezy away, and I absolutely had to follow. I wouldn’t spend another moment in that camp. A war camp! He brought me, a young lady, along with him to war! Why, do you know what it is like to be leered at by every passing soldier? Do you understand what it is like to live in a tent?”

“I—”

“We rarely had fresh water,” Allrianne continued. “And I couldn’t take a decent bath without fear of peeping soldiers! During our travels, there was dreadful nothing to do all day but sit in the carriage and bounce, bounce, bounce. Why, until Breezy came, I hadn’t had a refined conversation in weeks. And then, Father drove him away….”

“Because?” Ham asked eagerly.

Breeze coughed.

“I had to get away, Your Majesty,” Allrianne said. “You have to give me asylum! I know things that could help you. Like, I saw my father’s camp. I’ll bet you don’t know that he is getting supplies from the cannery in Haverfrex! What do you think of that?”

“Um…impressive,” Elend said hesitantly.

Allrianne nodded curtly.

“And, you came to find Breeze?” Elend asked.

Allrianne flushed slightly, glancing to the side. However, when she spoke, she displayed little tact. “I had to see him again, Your Majesty. So charming, so…wonderful. I wouldn’t have expected Father to understand a man such as he.”

“I see,” Elend said.

“Please, Your Majesty,” Allrianne said. “You have to take me in. Now that I’ve left Father, I have nowhere else to go!”

“You may stay—for a time, at least,” Elend said, nodding greetings to Dockson, who had entered through the atrium doors. “But, you’ve obviously had a difficult trip. Perhaps you would like an opportunity to refresh yourself…?”

“Oh, I would much appreciate that, Your Majesty!”

Elend eyed Cadon, one of the palace stewards, who stood at the back of the room with other servants. He nodded; rooms were prepared. “Then,” Elend said, standing, “Cadon will lead you to some rooms. We will take dinner this evening at seven, and can speak again then.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty!” Allrianne said, jumping up from her chair. She gave Breeze another hug, then stepped forward, as if to do the same for Elend. Fortunately, she thought better of it, instead allowing the servants to lead her away.

Elend sat. Breeze sighed deeply, leaning back in a wearied posture as Dockson walked forward, taking the girl’s seat.

“That was…unexpected,” Breeze noted.

There was an awkward pause, the atrium trees shifting slightly in the breeze from the balcony. Then—with a sharp bark—Ham began to laugh. The noise sparked Elend, and—despite the danger, despite the gravity of the problem—he found himself laughing as well.

“Oh, honestly,” Breeze huffed, which only prompted them further. Perhaps it was the sheer incongruity of the situation, perhaps it was because he needed to release tension, but Elend found himself laughing so hard he almost fell from the chair. Ham wasn’t doing much better, and even Dockson cracked a smile.

“I fail to see the levity in this situation,” Breeze said. “The daughter of Lord Cett—a man who is currently besieging our home—just demanded asylum in the city. If Cett wasn’t determined to kill us before, he certainly will be now!”

“I know,” Elend said, taking deep breaths. “I know. It’s just…”

“It’s the image of you,” Ham said, “being hugged by that courtly fluffcake. I can’t think of anything more awkward than you being confronted by an irrational young woman!”

“This throws another wrinkle into things,” Dockson noted. “Although, I’m not accustomed to
you
being the one to bring us a problem of this nature, Breeze. Honestly, I thought we would be able to avoid unplanned female attachments now that Kell is gone.”

“This isn’t my fault,” Breeze said pointedly. “The girl’s affection is completely misplaced.”

“That’s for sure,” Ham mumbled.

“All right,” a new voice said. “What was that pink thing I just passed in the hallway?”

Elend turned to find Vin standing, arms folded, in the atrium doorway.
So quiet. Why does she walk stealthily even in the palace?
She never wore shoes that clicked, never wore skirts that could rustle, and never had metal on her clothing that could clink or be Pushed by Allomancers.

“That wasn’t pink, my dear,” Breeze said. “That was red.”

“Close enough,” Vin said, walking forward. “She was bubbling to the servants about how hot her bath needed to be, and making certain they wrote down her favorite foods.”

Breeze sighed. “That’s Allrianne. We’ll probably have to get a new pastry chef—either that, or have desserts ordered in. She’s rather particular about her pastries.”

“Allrianne Cett is the daughter of Lord Cett,” Elend explained as Vin—ignoring the chairs—sat on the edge of a planter beside his chair, laying a hand on his arm. “Apparently, she and Breeze are something of an item.”

“Excuse me?” Breeze huffed.

Vin, however, wrinkled her nose. “That’s disgusting, Breeze. You’re old. She’s young.”

“There was no relationship,” Breeze snapped. “Besides, I’m not
that
old—nor is she
that
young.”

“She sounded like she was about twelve,” Vin said.

Breeze rolled his eyes. “Allrianne was a child of the country court—a little innocent, a little spoiled—but she hardly deserves to be spoken of in that manner. She’s actually quite witty, in the right circumstances.”

“So, was there anything between you?” Vin pressed.

“Of course not,” Breeze said. “Well, not really. Nothing real, though it could have been taken the wrong way.
Was
taken the wrong way, actually, once her father discovered…Anyway, who are you to talk, Vin? I seem to remember a certain
young
girl pining for an
old
Kelsier a few years back.”

Elend perked up at this.

Vin flushed. “I never pined over Kelsier.”

“Not even at the beginning?” Breeze asked. “Come now, a dashing man like him? He saved you from being beaten by your old crewleader, took you in…”

“You’re a sick man,” Vin declared, folding her arms. “Kelsier was like a father to me.”

“Eventually, perhaps,” Breeze said, “but—”

Elend held up a hand. “Enough,” he said. “This line of discussion is useless.”

Breeze snorted, but fell silent.
Tindwyl is right,
Elend thought.
They will listen to me if I act like I expect them to.

“We have to decide what to do,” Elend said.

“The daughter of the man threatening us could be a very powerful bargaining chip,” Dockson said.

“You mean take her hostage?” Vin said, eyes narrowing.

Dockson shrugged. “Someone has to state the obvious, Vin.”

“Not really a hostage,” Ham said. “She came to us, after all. Simply letting her stay could have the same effect as taking her hostage.”

“That would risk antagonizing Cett,” Elend said. “Our original plan was to make him think we’re his ally.”

“We could give her back, then,” Dockson said. “That could get us a long way in the negotiations.”

“And her request?” Breeze asked. “The girl wasn’t happy in her father’s camp. Shouldn’t we at least consider her wishes?”

All eyes turned toward Elend. He paused. Just a few weeks ago, they would have kept on arguing. It seemed strange that they should so quickly begin to look to him for decisions.

Who was he? A man who had haphazardly ended up on the throne? A poor replacement for their brilliant leader? An idealist who hadn’t considered the dangers his philosophies would bring? A fool? A child? An impostor?

The best they had.

“She stays,” Elend said. “For now. Perhaps we’ll be forced to return her eventually, but this will make a useful distraction for Cett’s army. Let them sweat for a bit. It will only buy us more time.”

The crewmembers nodded, and Breeze looked relieved.

I’ll do what I can, make the decisions as I see they must be made,
Elend thought.

Then accept the consequences.

Chaos and stability, the mist was both. Upon the land there was an empire, within that empire were a dozen shattered kingdoms, within those kingdoms were cities, towns, villages, plantations. And above them all, within them all, around them all, was the mist. It was more constant than the sun, for it could not be hidden by clouds. It was more powerful than the storms, for it would outlast any weather’s fury. It was always there. Changing, but eternal.

Day was an impatient sigh, awaiting the night. When the darkness did come, however, Vin found that the mists did not calm her as they once had.

Nothing seemed certain anymore. Once the night had been her refuge; now she found herself glancing behind, watching for ghostly outlines. Once Elend had been her peace, but he was changing. Once she had been able to protect the things she loved—but she was growing more and more afraid that the forces moving against Luthadel were beyond her capacity to stop.

Nothing frightened her more than her own impotence. During her childhood she had taken it for granted that she couldn’t change things, but Kelsier had given her pride in herself.

If she couldn’t protect Elend, what good was she?

There are still some things I can do,
she thought forcefully. She crouched quietly on a ledge, mistcloak tassels hanging down, waving slightly in the wind. Just below her, torches burned fitfully at the front of Keep Venture, illuminating a pair of Ham’s guards. They stood alert in the swirling mists, showing impressive diligence.

The guards wouldn’t be able to see her sitting just above them; they’d barely be able to see twenty feet in the thick mists. They weren’t Allomancers. Besides the core crew, Elend had access to barely half a dozen Mistings—which made him Allomantically weak compared with most of the other new kings in the Final Empire. Vin was supposed to make up the difference.

The torches flickered as the doors opened, and a figure left the palace. Ham’s voice echoed quietly in the mist as he greeted his guards. One reason—perhaps the main reason—that the guards were so diligent was because of Ham. He might have been a bit of an anarchist at heart, but he could be a very good leader if he was given a small team. Though his guards weren’t the most disciplined, polished soldiers Vin had seen, they were fiercely loyal.

Ham talked with the men for a time, then he waved farewell and walked out into the mists. The small courtyard between the keep and its wall contained a couple of guard posts and patrols, and Ham would visit each one in turn. He walked boldly in the night, trusting to diffused starlight to see, rather than blinding himself with a torch. A thief’s habit.

Vin smiled, leaping quietly to the ground, then scampering after Ham. He walked on, ignorant of her presence.
What would it be like to have only one Allomantic power?
Vin thought.
To be able to make yourself stronger, but to have ears as weak as those of any normal man?
It had been only two years, but already she had come to rely so heavily on her abilities.

Ham continued forward, Vin following discreetly, until they reached the ambush. Vin tensed, flaring her bronze.

OreSeur howled suddenly, jumping from a pile of boxes. The kandra was a dark silhouette in the night, his inhuman baying disturbing even to Vin. Ham spun, cursing quietly.

And he instinctively flared pewter. Focused on her bronze, Vin confirmed that the pulses were definitely coming from him. Ham spun around, searching in the night as OreSeur landed. Vin, however, simply smiled. Ham’s Allomancy meant he wasn’t the impostor. She could cross another name off her list.

“It’s okay, Ham,” Vin said, walking forward.

Ham paused, lowering his dueling cane. “Vin?” he asked, squinting in the mist.

“It’s me,” she said. “I’m sorry, you startled my hound. He can get jumpy at night.”

Ham relaxed. “We all can, I guess. Anything happening tonight?”

“Not that I can tell,” she said. “I’d let you know.”

Ham nodded. “I’d appreciate it—though I doubt you’d need me. I’m captain of the guard, but you’re the one who does all the work.”

“You’re more valuable than you think, Ham,” Vin said. “Elend confides in you. Since Jastes and the others left him, he’s needed a friend.”

Ham nodded. Vin turned, glancing into the mists, where OreSeur sat waiting on his haunches. He seemed to be getting more and more comfortable with his hound’s body.

Now that she knew Ham was not an impostor, there was something she needed to discuss with him. “Ham,” she said, “your protection of Elend is more valuable than you know.”

“You’re talking about the impostor,” Ham said quietly. “El has me searching through the palace staff to see who might have gone missing for a few hours on that day. It’s a tough task, though.”

She nodded. “There’s something else, Ham. I’m out of atium.”

He stood quietly in the mists for a moment, and then she heard him mutter a curse.

“I’ll die the next time I fight a Mistborn,” she said.

“Not unless he has atium,” Ham said.

“What are the chances that someone would send a Mistborn without atium to fight me?”

He hesitated.

“Ham,” she said, “I need to find a way to fight against someone who is burning atium. Tell me that you know a way.”

Ham shrugged in the darkness. “There are lots of theories, Vin. I once had a long conversation with Breeze about this—though he spent most of it grumbling that I was annoying him.”

“Well?” Vin asked. “What can I do?”

He rubbed his chin. “Most people agree that the best way to kill a Mistborn with atium is to surprise them.”

“That doesn’t help if they attack me first,” Vin said.

“Well,” Ham said. “Barring surprise, there isn’t much. Some people think that you
might
be able to kill an atium-using Mistborn if you catch them in an unavoidable situation. It’s like a game of fets—sometimes, the only way to take a piece is to corner it so that no matter which way it moves, it dies.

“Doing that to a Mistborn is pretty tough, though. The thing is, atium lets the Mistborn see the future—so he knows when a move will trap him, and so he can avoid the situation. The metal is supposed to enhance his mind somehow, too.”

“It does. When I’m burning atium, I often dodge before I even register the attacks that are coming.”

Ham nodded.

“So,” Vin said, “what else?”

“That’s it, Vin,” Ham said. “Thugs talk about this topic a lot—we’re all afraid of going up against a Mistborn. Those are your two options: Surprise him or overwhelm him. I’m sorry.”

Vin frowned. Neither option would do her much good if she got ambushed. “Anyway, I need to keep moving. I promise to tell you about any corpses I produce.”

Ham laughed. “How about you just try and avoid getting into situations where you have to produce them, eh? The Lord only knows what this kingdom would do if we lost you….”

Vin nodded, though she wasn’t certain how much Ham could see of her in the darkness. She waved to OreSeur, heading out toward the keep wall, leaving Ham on the cobbled path.

“Mistress,” OreSeur said as they reached the top of the wall, “might I know the purpose of surprising Master Hammond like that? Are you that fond of startling your friends?”

“It was a test,” Vin said, pausing beside a merlon gap, looking out over the city proper.

“A test, Mistress?”

“To see if he would use Allomancy. That way, I could know that he wasn’t the impostor.”

“Ah,” the kandra said. “Clever, Mistress.”

Vin smiled. “Thank you,” she said. A guard patrol was moving toward them. Not wanting to have to deal with them, Vin nodded to the wall-top stone guardhouse. She jumped, pushing off a coin, and landed on top of it. OreSeur bounded up beside her, using his strange kandra musculature to leap the ten feet.

Vin sat down cross-legged to think, and OreSeur padded over to the roof’s side and lay down, paws hanging over the edge. As they sat, Vin considered something.
OreSeur told me that a kandra didn’t gain Allomantic powers if he ate an Allomancer…but, can a kandra be an Allomancer on his own? I never did finish that conversation.

“This will tell me if a person isn’t a kandra, won’t it?” Vin asked, turning to OreSeur. “Your people don’t have Allomantic powers, right?”

OreSeur didn’t answer.

“OreSeur?” Vin said.

“I’m not required to answer that question, Mistress.”

Yes,
Vin thought with a sigh.
The Contract. How am I supposed to catch this other kandra if OreSeur won’t answer any of my questions?
She leaned back in frustration, staring up into the endless mists, using her mistcloak to cushion her head.

“Your plan will work, Mistress,” OreSeur said quietly.

Vin paused, rolling her head to look at him. He lay with head on forepaws, staring over the city. “If you sense Allomancy from someone, then they aren’t a kandra.”

Vin sensed a hesitant reluctance to his words, and he didn’t look at her. It was as if he spoke grudgingly, giving up information that he’d rather have kept to himself.

So secretive,
Vin thought. “Thank you,” she said.

OreSeur shrugged a pair of canine shoulders.

“I know you’d rather not have to deal with me,” she said. “We’d both rather keep our distance from each other. But, we’ll just have to make things work this way.”

OreSeur nodded again, then turned his head slightly and looked at her. “Why is it that you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you,” Vin said.

OreSeur raised a canine eyebrow. There was a wisdom in those eyes, an understanding that Vin was surprised to see. She’d never seen such things in him before.

“I…” Vin trailed off, looking away. “I just haven’t ever gotten over the fact that you ate Kelsier’s body.”

“That isn’t it,” OreSeur said, turning back to look at the city. “You’re too smart to be bothered by that.”

Vin frowned indignantly, but the kandra wasn’t looking at her. She turned, staring back up at the mists.
Why did he bring this up?
she thought.
We were just starting to get along.
She’d been willing to forget.

You really want to know?
she thought.
Fine.

“It’s because you knew,” she whispered.

“Excuse me, Mistress?”

“You knew,” Vin said, still looking into the mists. “You were the only one on the crew who knew Kelsier was going to die. He told you that he was going to let himself be killed, and that you were to take his bones.”

“Ah,” OreSeur said quietly.

Vin turned accusing eyes at the creature. “Why didn’t you say something? You knew how we felt about Kelsier. Did you even
consider
telling us that the idiot planned to kill himself? Did it even cross your mind that we might be able to stop him, that we might be able to find another way?”

“You are being quite harsh, Mistress.”

“Well, you wanted to know,” Vin said. “It was worst right after he died. When you came to be my servant, by his order. You never even spoke of what you’d done.”

“The Contract, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “You do not wish to hear this, perhaps, but I was bound. Kelsier did not wish you to know of his plans, so I could not tell you. Hate me if you must, but I do not regret my actions.”

“I don’t hate you.”
I got over that.
“But, honestly, you wouldn’t even break the Contract for his own good? You served Kelsier for two years. Didn’t it even hurt you to know he was going to die?”

“Why should I care if one master or another dies?” OreSeur said. “There is always another to take their place.”

“Kelsier wasn’t that kind of master,” Vin said.

“Wasn’t he?”

“No.”

“I apologize, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “I will believe as commanded, then.”

Vin opened her mouth to reply, then snapped it closed. If he was determined to keep thinking like a fool, then it was his right to do so. He could continue to resent masters, just as…

Just as she resented him. For keeping his word, for holding to his Contract.

Ever since I’ve known him, I’ve done nothing but treat him poorly,
Vin thought.
First, when he was Renoux, I reacted against his haughty bearing—but that bearing wasn’t his, it was part of the act he had to play. Then, as OreSeur, I avoided him. Hated him, even, for letting Kelsier die. Now I’ve forced him into an animal’s body.

And, in two years of knowing him, the only times I’ve asked about his past, I did it so that I could glean more information about his people so that I could find the impostor.

Vin watched the mists. Of all the people in the crew, only OreSeur had been an outsider. He hadn’t been invited to their conferences. He hadn’t inherited a position in the government. He’d helped as much as any of them, playing a vital role—that of the “spirit” Kelsier, who had returned from the grave to incite the skaa to their final rebellion. Yet, while the rest of them had titles, friendships, and duties, the only thing OreSeur had gained from overthrowing the Final Empire was another master.

One who hated him.

No wonder he reacts like he does,
Vin thought. Kelsier’s last words to her returned to her mind:
You have a lot to learn about friendship, Vin….
Kell and the others had invited her in, treated her with dignity and friendliness, even when she hadn’t deserved it.

“OreSeur,” she said, “what was your life like before you were recruited by Kelsier?”

“I don’t see what that has to do with finding the impostor, Mistress,” OreSeur said.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with that,” Vin said. “I just thought maybe I should get to know you better.”