فصل 30

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 carefully 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.

The entire chamber was crafted from white marble of various shades. While it was large enough to hold hundreds of people—plus a dance floor and tables—it still felt intimate. The room was divided by rows of ornamental marble pillars, and it was further partitioned with large stained-glass panels that ran from floor to ceiling. Vin was impressed—most keeps in Luthadel left their stained glass to the perimeter walls, so they could be lit from outside. While this keep did have some of those, she quickly realized that the true masterpieces had been placed here, freestanding inside the ballroom, where they could be admired from both sides.

“By the Lord Ruler,” Elend whispered, scanning the gathered people. “They really do think they can just ignore the rest of the world, don’t they?” Gold, silver, bronze, and brass sparkled upon figures in brilliant ball gowns and sharp gentlemen’s suits. The men generally wore dark clothing, and the women generally wore colors. A group of musicians played strings in a far corner, their music unimpeded by the shocked atmosphere. Servants waited, uncertain, bearing drinks and foods.

“Yes,” Vin whispered. “We should move out of the doorway. When the guards come, we’ll want to be mingled in the crowd to make the soldiers uncertain if they want to attack.” Elend smiled, and she knew he was remarking to himself about her tendency to keep her back from being exposed. However, she also knew that he realized she was right. They walked down the short set of marble steps, joining the party.

Skaa might have shied away from such a dangerous couple, but Vin and Elend wore the costume of noble propriety. The aristocracy of the Final Empire were quite adept at playing pretend—and when they were uncertain how to behave, they fell back on the old standard: proper manners.

Lords and ladies bowed and curtsied, acting as if the emperor and empress’s attendance had been completely expected. Vin let Elend take the lead, as he had far more experience than she with matters of court. He nodded to those they passed, displaying just the right amount of self-assurance. Behind, guards finally arrived at the doors. They stopped, however, obviously wary about disturbing the party.

“There,” Vin said, nodding to their left. Through a stained-glass partition, she could make out a figure sitting at an elevated table.

“I see him,” Elend said, leading her around the glass, and giving Vin her first sight of Aradan Yomen, king of the Western Dominance.

He was younger than she’d expected—perhaps as young as Elend. Roundfaced with serious eyes, Yomen had his head shaved bald, after the manner of obligators. His dark gray robes were a mark of his station, as were the complicated patterns of tattoos around his eyes, which proclaimed him a very high-ranking member of the Canton of Resource.

Yomen stood up as Vin and Elend approached. He looked utterly dumbfounded. Behind, the soldiers had begun to carefully work their way into the room. Elend paused a distance from the high table, with its white cloth and pure crystal place settings. He met Yomen’s gaze, the other guests so quiet that Vin guessed most were holding their breaths.

Vin checked her metal reserves, turning slightly, keeping an eye on the guards. Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw Yomen raise his hand and subtly wave the guards back.

Chatter began in the room almost immediately. Yomen sat back down, looking troubled, and did not return to his meal.

Vin looked up at Elend. “Well,” she whispered, “we’re in. What now?”

“I need to talk to Yomen,” Elend said. “But I’d like to wait a little bit first; give him a chance to get used to our presence.” “Then we should mingle.”

“Split up? We can cover more nobility that way.”

Vin hesitated.

“I can protect myself, Vin,” Elend said, smiling. “I promise.”

“All right.” Vin nodded, though that wasn’t the only reason she’d paused.

“Talk to as many people as you can,” Elend said. “We’re here to shatter this people’s image of safety. After all, we just proved that Yomen can’t keep us out of Fadrex—and we’re showing that we’re so unthreatened by him that we’ll waltz into a ball that he’s attending. Once we’ve made a bit of a stir, I’ll talk to their king, and they’ll all be certain to listen in.” Vin nodded. “When you mingle, watch for people who look like they might be willing to support us against the current government. Slowswift implied that there are some in the city who aren’t pleased with the way their king is handling things.” Elend nodded, kissed her cheek, and then she was alone. Vin stood in her beautiful gown, feeling a moment of shock. Over the last two years, she’d explicitly worked to keep herself out of situations where she would wear gowns and mingle with nobility. She’d determinedly worn trousers and shirts, making it her self-appointed duty to sow discomfort in those she found too full of themselves.

Yet, she had been the one to suggest this infiltration to Elend. Why? Why put herself back in this position? She wasn’t displeased with who she was—she didn’t need to prove anything by putting on another silly gown and making courtly conversation with a bunch of nobility she didn’t know.

Did she?

No use fidgeting about it now, Vin thought, scanning the crowd. Noble balls in Luthadel—and she could only assume here—were very polite affairs, designed to encourage mingling, and therefore facilitate political give and take. Balls had once been the main form of sport for the nobility, who had lived privileged lives under the Lord Ruler because their ancestors had been his friends back before his Ascension.

And so, the party was made up of small groups—some mixed couples, but many clusters of just women or just men. A pair was not expected to stay together the entire time. There were side rooms where gentlemen could retire and drink with their allies, leaving the women to converse in the ballroom.

Vin walked forward, slipping a cup of wine off the tray of a passing servant. By splitting up, Elend and she had indicated that they were open to conversation with others. Unfortunately, it had been a long, long time since Vin had to be alone at a party like this. She felt awkward, uncertain whether to approach one of the groups, or wait to see if anyone came to her. She felt somewhat as she had that first night, when she’d gone to Keep Venture posing as a lone noblewoman, Sazed her only guide.

That day, she’d played a part, hiding in her role as Valette Renoux. She couldn’t do that anymore. Everyone knew who she really was. That would have bothered her, once, but it didn’t anymore. Still, she couldn’t just do what she’d done then—stand around and wait for others to come to her. The entire room seemed to be staring at her.

She strode through the beautiful white room, aware of how much her black dress stood out against the women in their colors. She moved around the slices of colored glass that hung from the ceiling like crystalline curtains. She’d learned from her earlier balls that there was one thing she could always count on: Whenever noblewomen gathered, one always set herself up as the most important.

Vin found her with ease. The woman had dark hair and tan skin, and she sat at a table surrounded by sycophants. Vin recognized that arrogant look, that way the woman’s voice was just loud enough to be imperious, but just soft enough to make everyone hang on her words.

Vin approached with determination. Years ago, she’d been forced to start at the bottom. She didn’t have time for that. She didn’t know the subtle political intricacies of the city—the allegiances and rivalries. However, there was one thing of which she was fairly confident.

Whichever side this woman was on, Vin wanted to be on the opposite one.

Several of the sycophants looked up as Vin approached, and they grew pale. Their leader had the poise to remain aloof. She’ll try to ignore me, Vin thought. I can’t leave her that option. Vin sat at the table directly across from the woman. Then, Vin turned and addressed several of the younger sycophants.

“She’s planning to betray you,” Vin said.

The women glanced at each other.

“She has plans to get out of the city,” Vin said. “When the army attacks, she won’t be here. And she’s going to leave you all to die. Make an ally of me, however, and I will see that you are protected.” “Excuse me?” the lead woman said, her voice indignant. “Did I invite you to sit here?”

Vin smiled. That was easy. A thieving crewleader’s basis of power was money—take that away, and he’d fall. For a woman like this, her power was in the people who listened to her. To make her react, one simply had to threaten to take her minions.

Vin turned to confront the woman. “No, you didn’t invite me. I invited myself. Someone needs to warn the women here.” The woman sniffed. “You spread lies. You know nothing of my supposed plans.”

“Don’t I? You’re not the type to let a man like Yomen determine your future, and if the others here think about it, they’ll realized that there’s no way you would let yourself get caught in Fadrex City without plans to escape. I’m surprised you’re even still here.” “Your threats do not frighten me,” the lady said.

“I haven’t threatened you yet,” Vin noted, sipping her wine. She gave a careful Push on the emotions of the women at the table, making them more worried. “We could get to that, if you wish—though, technically, I’ve got your entire city under threat already.” The woman narrowed her eyes at Vin. “Don’t listen to her, ladies.”

“Yes, Lady Patresen,” one of the women said, speaking a little too quickly.

Patresen, Vin thought, relieved that someone had finally mentioned the woman’s name. Do I know that name? “House Patresen,” Vin said idly. “Isn’t that a cousin family of House Elariel?” Lady Patresen remained quiet.

“I killed an Elariel once,” Vin said. “It was a good fight. Shan was a very clever woman, and a skilled Mistborn.” She leaned in. “You may think that the stories about me are exaggerations. You may assume that I didn’t really kill the Lord Ruler, and that the talk is simply propaganda crafted to help stabilize my husband’s rule.

“Think as you wish, Lady Patresen. However, there is one thing you must understand. You are not my adversary. I don’t have time for people like you. You’re a petty woman in an insignificant city, part of a doomed culture of nobility. I’m not talking to you because I want to be part of your schemes; you can’t even understand how unimportant they are to me. I’m just here to voice a warning. We’re going to take this city—and when we do, there will be little room for people who were against us.” Patresen paled just slightly. However, her voice was calm when she spoke. “I doubt that’s true. If you could take the city as easily as you claim, then you would have already.” “My husband is a man of honor,” Vin said, “and decided that he wished to speak with Yomen before attacking. I, however, am not quite so temperate.” “Well, I think that—”

“You don’t understand, do you?” Vin asked. “It doesn’t matter what you think. Look, I know you’re the type with powerful connections. Those connections will have told you by now the numbers we bring. Forty thousand men, twenty thousand koloss, and a full contingent of Allomancers. Plus two Mistborn. My husband and I did not come to this conference to make allies, or even to make enemies. We came to give warning. I suggest you take it.” She punctuated her last comment with a powerful Soothing. She wanted it to be obvious to the women, to let them know that they were—indeed—under her power. Then, she stood, trailing away from the table.

What she had said to Patresen wasn’t really that important—the important thing was that Vin had been seen confronting the woman. Hopefully, that would put Vin on a side in the local politics, making her less threatening to some factions in the room. That, in turn, would make her more accessible, and— The sound of chairs scooting back from the table came from behind her. Vin turned, suspicious, and saw most of Lady Patresen’s clique approaching in a hurry, leaving their leader sitting virtually alone at her table, a scowl on her face.

Vin tensed.

“Lady Venture,” one of the women said. “Perhaps you would let some of us . . . introduce you at the party?” Vin frowned.

“Please,” the woman said very quietly.

Vin blinked in surprise. She’d expected the women to resent her, not listen to her. She glanced about. Most of the women looked so intimidated that Vin thought they might wilt away, like leaves in the sun. Feeling a little bemused, Vin nodded her head and let herself be led into the party for introductions.

Rashek wore both black and white. I think he wanted to show that he was a duality, Preservation and Ruin.

This, of course, was a lie. After all, he had only touched one of the powers—and only in a very small way at that.