The Mistborn Trilogy (131 page)

Vin raised an eyebrow. “You almost sound sincere, Zane.”

“I have no wish to see you dead,” he said, turning. “And I certainly don’t want to see harm befall Elend.”

“Oh?” Vin asked. “Even though he’s the one who had all the privileges, while you were despised and kept locked away?”

Zane shook his head. “It isn’t like that. Elend is…pure. Sometimes—when I hear him speak—I wonder if I would have become like him, if my childhood had been different.”

He met her eyes in the dark room. “I’m…broken, Vin. Maddened. I can never be like Elend. But, killing him wouldn’t change me. It’s probably best that he and I were raised apart—it’s far better that he doesn’t know about me. Better that he remain as he is. Untainted.”

“I…” Vin floundered. What could she say? She could see actual sincerity in Zane’s eyes.

“I’m not Elend,” Zane said. “I never will be—I’m not a part of his world. But, I don’t think that I
should
be. Neither should you. After the fighting was done, I finally got into the Assembly Hall. I saw Elend standing over you, at the end. I saw the look in his eyes.”

She turned away.

“It’s not his fault that he is what he is,” Zane said. “As I said, he’s pure. But, that makes him different from us. I’ve tried to explain it to you. I wish you could have seen that look in his eyes….”

I saw it,
Vin thought. She didn’t want to remember it, but she
had
seen it. That awful look of horror, a reaction to something terrible and alien, something beyond understanding.

“I can’t be Elend,” Zane said quietly, “but you don’t want me to be.” He reached over and dropped something on her bedstand. “Next time, be prepared.”

Vin snatched the object as Zane began to walk toward the window. The ball of metal rolled in her palm. The shape was bumpy, but the texture was smooth—like a nugget of gold. She knew it without having to swallow it.
“Atium?”

“Cett may send other assassins,” Zane said, hopping up onto the windowsill.

“You’re
giving
it to me?” she asked. “There’s enough here for a good two minutes of burning!” It was a small fortune, easily worth twenty thousand boxings before the Collapse. Now, with the scarcity of atium…

Zane turned back toward her. “Just keep yourself safe,” he said, then launched himself out into the mists.

Vin did not like being injured. Logically, she knew that other people probably felt the same way; after all, who would enjoy pain and debilitation? Yet, when the others got sick, she sensed frustration from them. Not terror.

When sick, Elend would spend the day in bed, reading books. Clubs had taken a bad blow during practice several months before, and he had grumbled about the pain, but had stayed off his leg for a few days without much prodding.

Vin was growing to be more like them. She could lie in bed as she did now, knowing that nobody would try to slit her throat while she was too weak to call for help. Still, she itched to rise, to show that she wasn’t very badly wounded. Lest someone think otherwise, and try to take advantage.

It isn’t like that anymore!
she told herself. It was light outside, and though Elend had been back to visit several times, he was currently away. Sazed had come to check on her wounds, and had begged her to stay in bed for “at least one more day.” Then he’d gone back to his studies. With Tindwyl.

Whatever happened to those two hating each other?
she thought with annoyance.
I barely get to see him.

Her door opened. Vin was pleased that her instincts were still keen enough that she immediately grew tense, reaching for her daggers. Her pained side protested the sudden motion.

Nobody entered.

Vin frowned, still tense, until a canine head popped up over the top of her footboard. “Mistress?” said a familiar, half growl of a voice.

“OreSeur?” Vin said. “You’re wearing another dog’s body!”

“Of course, Mistress,” OreSeur said, hopping up onto the bed. “What else would I have?”

“I don’t know,” Vin said, putting away her daggers. “When Elend said you’d had him get you a body, I just assumed that you’d asked for a human. I mean, everyone saw my ‘dog’ die.”

“Yes,” OreSeur said, “but it will be simple to explain that you got a new animal. You are expected to have a dog with you now, and so
not
having one would provoke notice.”

Vin sat quietly. She’d changed back to trousers and shirt, despite Sazed’s protests. Her dresses hung in the other room, one noticeably absent. At times, when she looked at them, she thought she saw the gorgeous white gown hanging there, sprayed with blood. Tindwyl had been wrong: Vin couldn’t be both Mistborn and lady. The horror she had seen in the eyes of the Assemblymen was enough proof for her.

“You didn’t need to take a dog’s body, OreSeur,” Vin said quietly. “I’d rather that you were happy.”

“It is all right, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “I have grown…fond of these kinds of bones. I should like to explore their advantages a little more before I return to human ones.”

Vin smiled. He’d chosen another wolfhound—a big brute of a beast. The colorings were different: more black than gray, without any patches of white. She approved.

“OreSeur…” Vin said, looking away. “Thank you for what you did for me.”

“I fulfill my Contract.”

“I’ve been in other fights,” Vin said. “You never intervened in those.”

OreSeur didn’t answer immediately. “No, I didn’t.”

“Why this time?”

“I did what felt right, Mistress,” OreSeur said.

“Even if it contradicted the Contract?”

OreSeur sat up proudly on his haunches. “I did
not
break my Contract,” he said firmly.

“But you attacked a human.”

“I didn’t kill him,” OreSeur said. “We are cautioned to stay out of combat, lest we accidentally cause a human death. Indeed, most of my brethren think that helping someone kill is the same as killing, and feel it is a breach of the Contract. The words are distinct, however. I did nothing wrong.”

“And if that man you tackled had broken his neck?”

“Then I would have returned to my kind for execution,” OreSeur said.

Vin smiled. “Then you
did
risk your life for me.”

“In a small way, I suppose,” OreSeur said. “The chances of my actions directly causing that man’s death were slim.”

“Thank you anyway.”

OreSeur bowed his head in acceptance.

“Executed,” Vin said. “So you can be killed?”

“Of course, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “We aren’t immortal.”

Vin eyed him.

“I will say nothing specific, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “As you might imagine, I would rather not reveal the weaknesses of my kind. Please suffice it to say that they exist.”

Vin nodded, but frowned in thought, bringing her knees up to her chest. Something was still bothering her, something about what Elend had said earlier, something about OreSeur’s actions….

“But,” she said slowly, “you couldn’t have been killed by swords or staves, right?”

“Correct,” OreSeur said. “Though our flesh looks like yours, and though we feel pain, beating us has no permanent effect.”

“Then why are you afraid?” Vin said, finally lighting upon what was bothering her.

“Mistress?”

“Why did your people make the Contract?” Vin asked. “Why subjugate yourselves to mankind? If our soldiers couldn’t hurt you, then why even worry about us?”

“You have Allomancy,” OreSeur said.

“So, Allomancy can kill you?”

“No,” OreSeur said, shaking his canine head. “It cannot. But, perhaps we should change the topic. I’m sorry, Mistress. This is very dangerous ground for me.”

“I understand,” Vin said, sighing. “It’s just so frustrating. There’s so much I don’t know—about the Deepness, about the legal politics…even about my own friends!” She sat back, looking up at the ceiling.
And there’s
still
a spy in the palace. Demoux or Dockson, likely. Maybe I should just order them both taken and held for a time? Would Elend even do such a thing?

OreSeur was watching her, apparently noting her frustration. Finally, he sighed. “Perhaps there are some things I can speak of, Mistress, if I am careful. What do you know of the origin of the kandra?”

Vin perked up. “Nothing.”

“We did not exist before the Ascension,” he said.

“You mean to say that the Lord Ruler created you?”

“That is what our lore teaches,” OreSeur said. “We are not certain of our purpose. Perhaps we were to be Father’s spies.”

“Father?” Vin said. “It seems strange to hear him spoken of that way.”

“The Lord Ruler created us, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “We are his children.”

“And I killed him,” Vin said. “I…feel like I should apologize.”

“Just because he is our Father does not mean we accepted everything he did, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “Cannot a human man love his father, yet not believe he is a good person?”

“I suppose.”

“Kandra theology about Father is complex,” OreSeur said. “Even for us, it is difficult to sort through it sometimes.”

Vin frowned. “OreSeur? How old are you?”

“Old,” he said simply.

“Older than Kelsier?”

“Much,” OreSeur. “But not as old as you are thinking. I do not remember the Ascension.”

Vin nodded. “Why tell me all of this?”

“Because of your original question, Mistress. Why do we serve the Contract? Well, tell me—if you were the Lord Ruler, and had his power, would you have created servants without building into them a way that you could control them?”

Vin nodded slowly in understanding.

“Father took little thought of the kandra from about the second century after his Ascension,” OreSeur said. “We tried to be independent for a time, but it was as I explained, humankind resented us. Feared us. And, some of them knew of our weaknesses. When my ancestors considered their options, they eventually chose voluntary servitude as opposed to forced slavery.”

He created them,
Vin thought. She had always shared a bit of Kelsier’s view regarding the Lord Ruler—that he was more man than deity. But, if he’d truly created a completely new species, then there had to have been some divinity in him.

The power of the Well of Ascension,
she thought.
He took it for himself—but it didn’t last. It must have run out, and quickly. Otherwise, why would he have needed armies to conquer?

An initial burst of power, the ability to create, to change—perhaps to save. He’d pushed back the mists, and in the process he’d somehow made the ash begin to fall and the sky turn red. He’d created the kandra to serve him—and probably the koloss, too. He might even have created Allomancers themselves.

And after that, he had returned to being a normal man. Mostly. The Lord Ruler had still held an inordinate amount of power for an Allomancer, and had managed to keep control of his creations—and he had somehow kept the mists from killing.

Until Vin had slain him. Then the koloss had begun to rampage, and the mists had returned. The kandra hadn’t been beneath his control at that time, so they remained as they were. But, he built into them a method of control, should he need it. A way to make the kandra serve him….

Vin closed her eyes, and quested out lightly with her Allomantic senses. OreSeur had said that kandra couldn’t be affected by Allomancy—but she knew something else about the Lord Ruler, something that had distinguished him from other Allomancers. His inordinate power had allowed him to do things he shouldn’t have been able to.

Things like pierce copperclouds, and affect metals inside of a person’s body. Maybe
that
was how he controlled the kandra, the thing that OreSeur was speaking of. The reason they feared Mistborn.

Not because Mistborn could kill them, but because Mistborn could do something else. Enslave them, somehow. Tentatively, testing what he’d said earlier, Vin reached out with a Soothing and touched OreSeur’s emotions. Nothing happened.

I can do some of the same things as the Lord Ruler,
she thought.
I can pierce copperclouds. Perhaps, if I just Push harder…

She focused, and
Pushed
on his emotions with a powerful Soothing. Again, nothing happened. Just as he’d told her. She sat for a moment. And then, impulsively, she burned duralumin and tried one final, massive Push.

OreSeur immediately let out a howl so bestial and unexpected that Vin jumped to her feet in shock, flaring pewter.

OreSeur fell to the bed, shaking.

“OreSeur!” she said, dropping to her knees, grabbing his head. “I’m sorry!”

“Said too much…” he muttered, still shaking. “I knew I’d said too much.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Vin said.

The shaking subsided, and OreSeur fell still for a moment, breathing quietly. Finally, he pulled his head out of her arms. “What you meant is immaterial, Mistress,” he said flatly. “The mistake was mine. Please, never do that again.”

“I promise,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, crawling off the bed. “You shouldn’t even have been able to do it. There are strange things about you, Mistress—you are like the Allomancers of old, before the passage of generations dulled their powers.”

“I’m sorry,” Vin said again, feeling helpless.
He saved my life, nearly broke his Contract, and I do this to him….

OreSeur shrugged. “It is done. I need to rest. I suggest that you do the same.”