فصل 13

13

Mist swirled and spun, like monochrome paints running together on a canvas. Light died in the west, and night came of age.

Vin frowned. “Does it seem like the mists are coming earlier?” “Earlier?” OreSeur asked in his muffled voice. The kandra wolfhound sat next to her on the rooftop.

Vin nodded. “Before, the mists didn’t start to appear until after it grew dark, right?” “It is dark, Mistress.”

“But they’re already here—they started to gather when the sun was barely beginning to set.” “I don’t see that it matters, Mistress. Perhaps the mists are simply like other weather patterns—they vary, sometimes.” “Doesn’t it even seem a little strange to you?”

“I will think it strange if you wish me to, Mistress,” OreSeur said.

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“I apologize, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “Tell me what you do mean, and I will be certain to believe as commanded.” Vin sighed, rubbing her brow. I wish Sazed were back… she thought. It was an idle wish, however. Even if Sazed were in Luthadel, he wouldn’t be her steward. The Terrismen no longer called any man master. She’d have to make do with OreSeur. The kandra, at least, could provide information that Sazed could not—assuming she could get it out of him.

“We need to find the impostor,” Vin said. “The one who…replaced someone.” “Yes, Mistress,” OreSeur said.

Vin sat back in the mists, reclining on a slanted rooftop, resting her arms back on the tiles. “Then, I need to know more about you.” “Me, Mistress?”

“Kandra in general. If I’m going to find this impostor, I need to know how he thinks, need to understand his motivations.” “His motivations will be simple, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “He will be following his Contract.” “What if he’s acting without a Contract?”

OreSeur shook his canine head. “Kandra always have a Contract. Without one, they are not allowed to enter human society.” “Never?” Vin asked.

“Never.”

“And what if this is some kind of rogue kandra?” Vin said.

“Such a thing does not exist,” OreSeur said firmly.

Oh? Vin thought skeptically. However, she let the matter drop. There was little reason for a kandra to infiltrate the palace on his own; it was far more likely that one of Elend’s enemies had sent the creature. One of the warlords, perhaps, or maybe the obligators. Even the other nobility in the city would have had good reason to spy on Elend.

“Okay,” Vin said. “The kandra is a spy, sent to gather information for another human.” “Yes.”

“But,” Vin said, “if he did take the body of someone in the palace, he didn’t kill them himself. Kandra can’t kill humans, right?” OreSeur nodded. “We are all bound by that rule.”

“So, somebody snuck into the palace, murdered a member of the staff, then had their kandra take the body.” She paused, trying to work through the problem. “The most dangerous possibilities—the crewmembers—should be considered first. Fortunately, since the killing happened yesterday, we can eliminate Breeze, who was outside the city at the time.” OreSeur nodded.

“We can eliminate Elend as well,” Vin said. “He was with us on the wall yesterday.” “That still leaves the majority of the crew, Mistress.”

Vin frowned, sitting back. She’d tried to establish solid alibis for Ham, Dockson, Clubs, and Spook. However, all of them had had at least a few hours unaccounted for. Long enough for a kandra to digest them and take their place.

“All right,” she said. “So, how do I find the impostor? How can I tell him from other people?” OreSeur sat quietly in the mists.

“There has to be a way,” Vin said. “His imitation can’t be perfect. Would cutting him work?” OreSeur shook his head. “Kandra replicate a body perfectly, Mistress—blood, flesh, skin, and muscle. You have seen that when I split my skin.” Vin sighed, standing and stepping up on the tip of the peaked rooftop. The mists were already full, and the night was quickly becoming black. She began to walk idly back and forth on the ridge, an Allomancer’s balance keeping her from falling.

“Perhaps I can just see who isn’t acting oddly,” she said. “Are most kandra as good at imitation as you are?” “Among kandra, my own skill is average. Some are worse, others are better.” “But no actor is perfect,” Vin said.

“Kandra don’t often make mistakes, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “But, this is probably your best method. Be warned, however—he could be anyone. My kind are very skilled.” Vin paused. It’s not Elend, she told herself forcibly. He was with me all day yesterday. Except in the morning.

Too long, she decided. We were on the wall for hours, and those bones were freshly expelled. Besides, I’d know if it were him…wouldn’t I?

She shook her head. “There has to be another way. Can I spot a kandra with Allomancy somehow?” OreSeur didn’t answer immediately. She turned toward him in the darkness, studying his canine face. “What?” she asked.

“These are not things we speak of with outsiders.”

Vin sighed. “Tell me anyway.”

“Do you command me to speak?”

“I don’t really care to command you in anything.”

“Then I may leave?” OreSeur asked. “You do not wish to command me, so our Contract is dissolved?” “That isn’t what I meant,” Vin said.

OreSeur frowned—a strange expression to see on a dog’s face. “It would be easier for me if you would try to say what you mean, Mistress.” Vin gritted her teeth. “Why is it you’re so hostile?”

“I’m not hostile, Mistress. I am your servant, and will do as you command. That is part of the Contract.” “Sure. Are you like this with all of your masters?”

“With most, I am fulfilling a specific role,” OreSeur said. “I have bones to imitate—a person to become, a personality to adopt. You have given me no direction; just the bones of this…animal.” So that’s it, Vin thought. Still annoyed by the dog’s body. “Look, those bones don’t really change anything. You are still the same person.” “You do not understand. It is not who a kandra is that’s important. It’s who a kandra becomes. The bones he takes, the role he fulfills. None of my previous masters have asked me to do something like this.” “Well, I’m not like other masters,” Vin said. “Anyway, I asked you a question. Is there a way I can spot a kandra with Allomancy? And yes, I command you to speak.” A flash of triumph shone in OreSeur’s eyes, as if he enjoyed forcing her into her role. “Kandra cannot be affected by mental Allomancy, Mistress.” Vin frowned. “Not at all?”

“No, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “You can try to Riot or Soothe our emotions, if you wish, but it will have no effect. We won’t even know that you are trying to manipulate us.” Like someone who is burning copper. “That’s not exactly the most useful bit of information,” she said, strolling past the kandra on the roof. Allomancers couldn’t read minds or emotions; when they Soothed or Rioted another person, they simply had to hope that the person reacted as intended.

She could “test” for a kandra by Soothing someone’s emotions, perhaps. If they didn’t react, that might mean they were a kandra—but it could also just mean that they were good at containing their emotions.

OreSeur watched her pacing. “If it were easy to detect kandra, Mistress, then we wouldn’t be worth much as impostors, would we?” “I suppose not,” Vin acknowledged. However, thinking about what he’d said made her consider something else. “Can a kandra use Allomancy? If they eat an Allomancer, I mean?” OreSeur shook his head.

That’s another method, then, Vin thought. If I catch a member of the crew burning metals, then I know he’s not the kandra. Wouldn’t help with Dockson or the palace servants, but it would let her eliminate Ham and Spook.

“There’s something else,” Vin said. “Before, when we were doing the job with Kelsier, he said that we had to keep you away from the Lord Ruler and his Inquisitors. Why was that?” OreSeur looked away. “This is not a thing we speak of.”

“Then I command you to speak of it.”

“Then I must refuse to answer,” OreSeur said.

“Refuse to answer?” Vin asked. “You can do that?”

OreSeur nodded. “We are not required to reveal secrets about kandra nature, Mistress. It is—” “In the Contract,” Vin finished, frowning. I really need to read that thing again.

“Yes, Mistress. I have, perhaps, said too much already.”

Vin turned away from OreSeur, looking out over the city. The mists continued to spin. Vin closed her eyes, questing out with bronze, trying to feel the telltale pulse of an Allomancer burning metals nearby.

OreSeur rose and padded over beside her, then settled down on his haunches again, sitting on the inclined roof. “Shouldn’t you be at the meeting the king is having, Mistress?” “Perhaps later,” Vin said, opening her eyes. Out beyond the city, watchfires from the armies lit the horizon. Keep Venture blazed in the night to her right, and inside of it, Elend was holding council with the others. Many of the most important men in the government, sitting together in one room. Elend would call her paranoid for insisting that she be the one who watched for spies and assassins. That was fine; he could call her whatever he wanted, as long as he stayed alive.

She settled back down. She was glad Elend had decided to pick Keep Venture as his palace, rather than moving into Kredik Shaw, the Lord Ruler’s home. Not only was Kredik Shaw too big to be properly defended, but it also reminded her of him. The Lord Ruler.

She thought of the Lord Ruler often, lately—or, rather, she thought of Rashek, the man who had become the Lord Ruler. A Terrisman by birth, Rashek had killed the man who should have taken the power at the Well of Ascension and… And done what? They still didn’t know. The Hero had been on a quest to protect the people from a danger simply known as the Deepness. So much had been lost; so much had been intentionally destroyed. Their best source of information about those days came in the form of an aged journal, written by the Hero of Ages during the days before Rashek had killed him. However, it gave precious few clues about his quest.

Why do I even worry about these things? Vin thought. The Deepness is a thing a thousand years forgotten. Elend and the others are right to be concerned about more pressing events.

And still, Vin found herself strangely detached from them. Perhaps that was why she found herself scouting outside. It wasn’t that she didn’t worry about the armies. She just felt…removed from the problem. Even now, as she considered the threat to Luthadel, her mind was drawn back to the Lord Ruler.

You don’t know what I do for mankind, he had said. I was your god, even if you couldn’t see it. By killing me, you have doomed yourselves. Those were the Lord Ruler’s last words, spoken as he lay dying on the floor of his own throne room. They worried her. Chilled her, even still.

She needed to distract herself. “What kinds of things do you like, kandra?” she asked, turning to the creature, who still sat on the rooftop beside her. “What are your loves, your hatreds?” “I do not want to answer that.”

Vin frowned. “Do not want to, or do not have to?”

OreSeur paused. “Do not want to, Mistress.” The implication was obvious. You’re going to have to command me.

She almost did. However, something gave her pause, something in those eyes—inhuman though they were. Something familiar.

She’d known resentment like that. She’d felt it often during her youth, when she’d served crewleaders who had lorded over their followers. In the crews, one did what one was commanded—especially if one was a small waif of a girl, without rank or means of intimidation.

“If you don’t wish to speak of it,” Vin said, turning away from the kandra, “then I won’t force you.” OreSeur was silent.

Vin breathed in the mist, its cool wetness tickling her throat and lungs. “Do you know what I love, kandra?” “No, Mistress.”

“The mists,” she said, holding out her arms. “The power, the freedom.” OreSeur nodded slowly. Nearby, Vin felt a faint pulsing with her bronze. Quiet, strange, unnerving. It was the same odd pulsing that she had felt atop Keep Venture a few nights before. She had never been brave enough to investigate it again.

It’s time to do something about that, she decided. “Do you know what I hate, kandra?” she whispered, falling to a crouch, checking her knives and metals.

“No, Mistress.”

She turned, meeting OreSeur’s eyes. “I hate being afraid.”

She knew that others thought her jumpy. Paranoid. She had lived with fear for so long that she had once seen it as something natural, like the ash, the sun, or the ground itself.

Kelsier had taken that fear away. She was careful, still, but she didn’t feel a constant sense of terror. The Survivor had given her a life where the ones she loved didn’t beat her, had shown her something better than fear. Trust. Now that she knew of these things, she would not quickly surrender them. Not to armies, not to assassins… Not even to spirits.

“Follow if you can,” she whispered, then dropped off the rooftop to the street below.

She dashed along the mist-slicked street, building momentum before she had time to lose her nerve. The source of the bronze pulses was close; it came from only one street over, in a building. Not the top, she decided. One of the darkened windows on the third floor, the shutters open.

Vin dropped a coin and jumped into the air. She shot upward, angling herself by Pushing against a latch across the street. She landed in the window’s pitlike opening, arms grabbing the sides of the frame. She flared tin, letting her eyes adjust to the deep darkness within the abandoned room.

And it was there. Formed entirely of mists, it shifted and spun, its outline vague in the dark chamber. It had a vantage to see the rooftop where Vin and OreSeur had been talking.

Ghosts don’t spy on people…do they? Skaa didn’t speak of things like spirits or the dead. It smacked too much of religion, and religion was for the nobility. To worship was death for skaa. That hadn’t stopped some, of course—but thieves like Vin had been too pragmatic for such things.

There was only one thing in skaa lore that this creature matched. Mistwraiths. Creatures said to steal the souls of men foolish enough to go outside at night. But, Vin now knew what mistwraiths were. They were cousins to the kandra—strange, semi-intelligent beasts who used the bones of those they ingested. They were odd, true—but hardly phantoms, and not really even that dangerous. There were no dark wraiths in the night, no haunting spirits or ghouls.

Or so Kelsier had said. The thing standing in the dark room—its insubstantial form writhing in the mists—seemed a powerful counterexample. She gripped the sides of the window, fear—her old friend—returning.

Run. Flee. Hide.

“Why have you been watching me?” she demanded.

The thing did not move. Its form seemed to draw the mists forward, and they spun slightly, as if in an air current.

I can sense it with bronze. That means it’s using Allomancy—and Allomancy attracts the mist.

The thing stepped forward. Vin tensed.

And then the spirit was gone.

Vin paused, frowning. That was it? She had—

Something grabbed her arm. Something cold, something terrible, but something very real. A pain shot through her head, moving as if from her ear and into her mind. She yelled, but cut off as her voice failed. With a quiet groan—her arm quivering and shaking—she fell backward out of the window.

Her arm was still cold. She could feel it whipping in the air beside her, seeming to exude chill air. Mist passed like trailing clouds.

Vin flared tin. Pain, cold, wetness, and lucidity burst into her mind, and she threw herself into a twist and flared pewter just as she hit the ground.

“Mistress?” OreSeur said, darting from the shadows.

Vin shook her head, pushing herself up to her knees, her palms cool against the slick cobblestones. She could still feel the trailing chill in her left arm.

“Shall I go for aid?” the wolfhound asked.

Vin shook her head, forcing herself into a wobbling stand. She looked upward, through swirling mists, toward the black window above.

She shivered. Her shoulder was sore from where she had hit the ground, and her still bruised side throbbed, but she could feel her strength returning. She stepped away from the building, still looking up. Above her, the deep mists seemed…ominous. Obscuring.

No, she thought forcefully. The mists are my freedom; the night is my home! This is where I belong. I haven’t needed to be afraid in the night since Kelsier taught me otherwise.

She couldn’t lose that. She wouldn’t go back to the fear. Still, she couldn’t help the quick urgency in her step as she waved to OreSeur and scampered away from the building. She gave no explanation for her strange actions.

He didn’t ask for one.

Elend set a third pile of books onto the table, and it slumped against the other two, threatening to topple the entire lot to the floor. He steadied them, then glanced up.

Breeze, in a prim suit, regarded the table with amusement as he sipped his wine. Ham and Spook were playing a game of stones as they waited for the meeting to begin; Spook was winning. Dockson sat in the corner of the room, scribbling on a ledger, and Clubs sat in a deep plush chair, eyeing Elend with one of his stares.

Any of these men could be an impostor, Elend thought. The thought still seemed insane to him. What was he to do? Exclude them all from his confidence? No, he needed them too much.

The only option was to act normally and watch them. Vin had told him to try and spot inconsistencies in their personalities. He intended to do his best, but the reality was he wasn’t sure how much he would be able to see. This was more Vin’s area of expertise. He needed to worry about the armies.

Thinking of her, he glanced at the stained-glass window at the back of the study, and was surprised to see it was dark.

That late already? Elend thought.

“My dear man,” Breeze noted. “When you told us you needed to ‘go and gather a few important references,’ you might have warned us that you were planning to be gone for two full hours.” “Yes, well,” Elend said, “I kind of lost track of time….”

“For two hours?”

Elend nodded sheepishly. “There were books involved.”

Breeze shook his head. “If the fate of the Central Dominance weren’t at stake—and if it weren’t so fantastically enjoyable to watch Hammond lose an entire month’s earnings to the boy there—I’d have left an hour ago.” “Yes, well, we can get started now,” Elend said.

Ham chuckled, standing up. “Actually, it’s kind of like the old days. Kell always arrived late, too—and he liked to hold his meetings at night. Mistborn hours.” Spook smiled, his coin pouch bulging.

We still use boxings—Lord Ruler imperials—as our coinage, Elend thought. We’ll have to do something about that.

“I miss the charcoal board, though,” Spook said.

“I certainly don’t,” Breeze replied. “Kell had atrocious handwriting.” “Absolutely atrocious,” Ham said with a smile, sitting. “You have to admit, though—it was distinctive.” Breeze raised an eyebrow. “It was that, I suppose.”

Kelsier, the Survivor of Hathsin, Elend thought. Even his handwriting is legendary. “Regardless,” he said, “I think perhaps we should get to work. We’ve still got two armies waiting out there. We’re not leaving tonight until we have a plan to deal with them!” The crewmembers shared looks.

“Actually, Your Majesty,” Dockson said, “we’ve already worked on that problem for a bit.” “Oh?” Elend asked, surprised. Well, I guess I did leave them alone for a couple of hours. “Let me hear it, then.” Dockson stood, pulling his chair a bit closer to join the rest of the group, and Ham began to speak.

“Here’s the thing, El,” Ham said. “With two armies here, we don’t have to worry about an immediate attack. But, we’re still in serious danger. This will probably turn into an extended siege as each army tries to outlast the other.” “They’ll try to starve us out,” Clubs said. “Weaken us, and their enemies, before attacking.” “And,” Ham continued, “that puts us in a bind—because we can’t last very long. The city is already on the edge of starvation—and the enemy kings are probably aware of that fact.” “What are you saying?” Elend asked slowly.

“We have to make an alliance with one of those armies, Your Majesty,” Dockson said. “They both know it. Alone, they can’t reliably defeat one another. With our help, however, the balance will be tipped.” “They’ll hem us in,” Ham said. “Keep us blockaded until we get desperate enough to side with one of them. Eventually, we’ll have to do so—either that, or let our people starve.” “The decision comes down to this,” Breeze said. “We can’t outlast the others, so we have to choose which of those men we want to take over the city. And, I would suggest making our decision quickly as opposed to waiting while our supplies run out.” Elend stood quietly. “By making a deal with one of those armies, we’ll essentially be giving away our kingdom.” “True,” Breeze said, tapping the side of his cup. “However, what I gained us by bringing a second army is bargaining power. You see, at least we are in a position to demand something in exchange for our kingdom.” “What good is that?” Elend asked. “We still lose.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Breeze said. “I think that we might be able to persuade Cett to leave you as a provisional leader in Luthadel. He doesn’t like the Central Dominance; he finds it barren and flat.” “Provisional leader of the city,” Elend said with a frown. “That is somewhat different from king of the Central Dominance.” “True,” Dockson said. “But, every emperor needs good men to administrate the cities under their rule. You wouldn’t be king, but you—and our armies—would live through the next few months, and Luthadel wouldn’t be pillaged.” Ham, Breeze, and Dockson all sat resolutely, looking him in the eye. Elend glanced down at his pile of books, thinking of his research and study. Worthless. How long had the crew known that there was only one course of action?

The crew seemed to take Elend’s silence as assent.

“Cett really is the best choice, then?” Dockson asked. “Perhaps Straff would be more likely to make an agreement with Elend—they are, after all, family.” Oh, he’d make an agreement, Elend thought. And he’d break it the moment it was convenient. But…the alternative? Give the city over to this Cett? What would happen to this land, this people, if he were in charge?

“Cett is best, I think,” Breeze said. “He is very willing to let others rule, as long as he gets his glory and his coins. The problem is going to be that atium. Cett thinks it is here, and if he doesn’t find it…” “We just let him search the city,” Ham said.

Breeze nodded. “You’d have to persuade him that I misled him about the atium—and that shouldn’t be too hard, considering what he thinks of me. Which is another small matter—you’ll have to convince him that I’ve been dealt with. Perhaps he’d believe that I was executed as soon as Elend found out I had raised an army against him.” The others nodded.

“Breeze?” Elend asked. “How does Lord Cett treat the skaa in his lands?” Breeze paused, then glanced away. “Not well, I’m afraid.”

“Now, see,” Elend said. “I think we need to consider how to best protect our people. I mean, if we give everything over to Cett, then we’d save my skin—but at the cost of the entire skaa population of the dominance!” Dockson shook his head. “Elend, it’s not a betrayal. Not if this is the only way.” “That’s easy to say,” Elend said. “But I’m the one who’d have to bear the guilty conscience for doing such a thing. I’m not saying that we should throw out your suggestion, but I do have a few ideas that we might talk about….” The others shared looks. As usual, Clubs and Spook remained quiet during proceedings; Clubs only spoke when he felt it absolutely necessary, and Spook tended to stay on the periphery of the conversations. Finally, Breeze, Ham, and Dockson looked back at Elend.

“This is your country, Your Majesty,” Dockson said carefully. “We’re simply here to give advice.” Very good advice, his tone implied.

“Yes, well,” Elend said, quickly selecting a book. In his haste, he knocked over one of the stacks, sending a clatter of books across the table and landing a volume in Breeze’s lap.

“Sorry,” Elend said, as Breeze rolled his eyes and sat the book back up on the table. Elend pulled open his own book. “Now, this volume had some very interesting things to say about the movement and arrangement of troop bodies—” “Uh, El?” Ham asked, frowning. “That looks like a book on shipping grain.” “I know,” Elend said. “There weren’t a lot of books about warfare in the library. I guess that’s what we get for a thousand years without any wars. However, this book does mention how much grain it took to keep the various garrisons in the Final Empire stocked. Do you have any idea how much food an army needs?” “You have a point,” Clubs said, nodding. “Usually, it’s a blasted pain to keep soldiers fed; we often had supply problems fighting on the frontier, and we were only small bands, sent to quell the occasional rebellion.” Elend nodded. Clubs didn’t often speak of his past fighting in the Lord Ruler’s army—and the crew didn’t often ask him about it.

“Anyway,” Elend said, “I’ll bet both Cett and my father are unaccustomed to moving large bodies of men. There will be supply problems, especially for Cett, since he marched so hastily.” “Maybe not,” Clubs said. “Both armies have secured canal routes into Luthadel. That will make it easy for them to send for more supplies.” “Plus,” Breeze added, “though much of Cett’s land is in revolt right now, he does still hold the city of Haverfrex, which held one of the Lord Ruler’s main canneries. Cett has a remarkable amount of food a short canal trip away.” “Then, we disrupt the canals,” Elend said. “We find a way to stop those supplies from coming. Canals make resupply quick, but also vulnerable, since we know exactly which route it will take. And, if we can take away their food, perhaps they’ll be forced to turn around and march home.” “Either that,” Breeze said, “or they’ll just decide to risk attacking Luthadel.” Elend paused. “That’s a possibility,” he said. “But, well, I’ve been researching how to hold the city as well.” He reached across the table, picking up a book. “Now, this is Jendellah’s City Management in the Modern Era. He mentions how difficult Luthadel is to police because of its extreme size and large number of skaa slums. He suggests using roving bands of city watchmen. I think we could adapt his methods to use in a battle—our wall is too long to defend in detail, but if we had mobile bands of troops that could respond to—” “Your Majesty,” Dockson interrupted.

“Hum? Yes?”

“We’ve got a troop of boys and men who have barely a year’s training, and we’re facing not one overwhelming force, but two. We can’t win this battle by force.” “Oh, yes,” Elend said. “Of course. I was just saying that if we did have to fight, I have some strategies….” “If we fight, we lose,” Clubs said. “We’ll probably lose anyway.” Elend paused for a moment. “Yes, well, I just…”

“Attacking the canal routes is a good idea, though,” Dockson said. “We can do that covertly, perhaps hire some of the bandits in the area to attack supply barges. It probably won’t be enough to send Cett or Straff home, but we could make them more desperate to make alliances with us.” Breeze nodded. “Cett’s already worried about instability back in his home dominance. We should send him a preliminary messenger, let him know we’re interested in an alliance. That way, as soon as his supply problems begin, he’ll think of us.” “We could even send him a letter explaining Breeze’s execution,” Dockson said, “as a sign of good faith. That—” Elend cleared his throat. The others paused.

“I, uh, wasn’t finished yet,” Elend said.

“I apologize, Your Majesty,” Dockson said.

Elend took a deep breath. “You’re right—we can’t afford to fight those armies. But, I think we need to find a way to get them to fight each other.” “A pleasant sentiment, my dear man,” Breeze said. “But getting those two to attack one another isn’t as simple as persuading Spook over there to refill my wine.” He turned, holding out his empty cup. Spook paused, then sighed, rising to fetch the wine bottle.

“Well, yes,” Elend said. “But, while there aren’t a lot of books on warfare, there are a lot about politics. Breeze, you said the other day that being the weakest party in a three-way stalemate gives us power.” “Exactly,” Breeze said. “We can tip the battle for either of the two larger sides.” “Yes,” Elend said, opening a book. “Now that there are three parties involved, it’s not warfare—it’s politics. This is just like a contest between houses. And in house politicking, even the most powerful houses can’t stand without allies. The small houses are weak individually, but they are strong when considered as a group.

“We’re like one of those small houses. If we want to make any gains, we’re going to have to get our enemies to forget about us—or, at least, make them think us inconsequential. If they both assume that they have the better of us—that they can use us to defeat the other army, then turn on us at their leisure—then they’ll leave us alone and concentrate on each other.” Ham rubbed his chin. “You’re talking about playing both sides, Elend. It’s a dangerous position to put ourselves in.” Breeze nodded. “We’d have to switch our allegiance to whichever side seems weaker at the moment, keep them snapping at each other. And there’s no guarantee that the winner between the two would be weakened enough for us to defeat.” “Not to mention our food problems,” Dockson said. “What you propose would take time, Your Majesty. Time during which we’d be under siege, our supplies dwindling. It’s autumn right now. Winter will soon be upon us.” “It will be tough,” Elend agreed. “And risky. But, I think we can do it. We make them both think we’re allied with them, but we hold back our support. We encourage them against one another, and we wear away at their supplies and morale, pushing them into a conflict. When the dust settles, the surviving army might just be weak enough for us to beat.” Breeze looked thoughtful. “It has style,” he admitted. “And, it does kind of sound fun.” Dockson smiled. “You only say that because it involves making someone else do our work for us.” Breeze shrugged. “Manipulation works so well on a personal level, I don’t see why it wouldn’t be an equally viable national policy.” “That’s actually how most rulership works,” Ham mused. “What is a government but an institutionalized method of making sure somebody else does all the work?” “Uh, the plan?” Elend asked.

“I don’t know, El,” Ham said, getting back on topic. “It sounds like one of Kell’s plans—foolhardy, brave, and a little insane.” He sounded as if he were surprised to hear Elend propose such a measure.

I can be as foolhardy as any man, Elend thought indignantly, then paused. Did he really want to follow that line of thought?

“We could get ourselves into some serious trouble,” Dockson said. “If either side decides it’s tired of our games…” “They’ll destroy us,” Elend said. “But…well, gentlemen, you’re gamblers. You can’t tell me that this plan doesn’t appeal to you more than simply bowing before Lord Cett.” Ham shared a look with Breeze, and they seemed to be considering the idea. Dockson rolled his eyes, but seemed like he was objecting simply out of habit.

No, they didn’t want to take the safe way out. These were the men who had challenged the Lord Ruler, men who had made their livelihood scamming noblemen. In some ways, they were very careful; they could be precise in their attention to detail, cautious in covering their tracks and protecting their interests. But when it came time to gamble for the big prize, they were often willing.

No, not willing. Eager.

Great, Elend thought. I’ve filled my inner council with a bunch of thrill-seeking masochists. Even worse, I’ve decided to join them. But, what else could he do?

“We could at least consider it,” Breeze said. “It does sound exciting.” “Now, see, I didn’t suggest this because it was exciting, Breeze,” Elend said. “I spent my youth trying to plan how I would make a better city of Luthadel once I became leader of my house. I’m not going to throw away those dreams at the first sign of opposition.” “What about the Assembly?” Ham said.

“That’s the best part,” Elend said. “They voted in my proposal at the meeting two days back. They can’t open the city gates to any invader until I meet with my father in parlay.” The crew sat quietly for a few moments. Finally, Ham turned to Elend, shaking his head. “I really don’t know, El. It sounds appealing. We actually discussed a few more daring plans like this while we were waiting for you. But…” “But what?” Elend asked.

“A plan like this depends a lot on you, my dear man,” Breeze said, sipping his wine. “You’d have to be the one to meet with the kings—the one to persuade them both that we’re on their side. No offense, but you’re new to scamming. It’s difficult to agree to a daring plan that puts a newcomer in as the linchpin member of the team.” “I can do this,” Elend said. “Really.”

Ham glanced at Breeze, then both glanced at Clubs. The gnarled general shrugged. “If the kid wants to try it, then let him.” Ham sighed, then looked back. “I guess I agree. As long as you’re up to this, El.” “I think I am,” Elend said, covering his nervousness. “I just know we can’t give up, not easily. Maybe this won’t work—maybe, after a couple months of being besieged, we’ll just end up giving away the city anyway. However, that gives us a couple of months during which something could happen. It’s worth the risk to wait, rather than fold. Wait, and plan.” “All right, then,” Dockson said. “Give us some time to come up with some ideas and options, Your Majesty. We’ll meet again in a few days to talk about specifics.” “All right,” Elend said. “Sounds good. Now, if we can move on to other matters, I’d like to mention—” A knock came at the door. At Elend’s call, Captain Demoux pushed open the door, looking a little embarrassed. “Your Majesty?” he said. “I apologize, but…I think we caught someone listening in on your meeting.” “What?” Elend said. “Who?”

Demoux turned to the side, waving in a pair of his guards. The woman they led into the room was vaguely familiar to Elend. Tall, like most Terris, she wore a bright-colored, but utilitarian, dress. Her ears were stretched downward, the lobes elongated to accommodate numerous earrings.

“I recognize you,” Elend said. “From the Assembly hall a few days ago. You were watching me.” The woman didn’t answer. She looked over the room’s occupants, standing stiffly—even haughtily—despite her bound wrists. Elend had never actually met a Terriswoman before; he’d only met stewards, eunuchs trained from birth to work as manservants. For some reason, Elend had expected a Terriswoman to seem a bit more servile.

“She was hiding in the next room over,” Demoux said. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I don’t know how she got past us. We found her listening against the wall, though I doubt she heard anything. I mean, those walls are made of stone.” Elend met the woman’s eyes. Older—perhaps fifty—she wasn’t beautiful, but neither was she homely. She was sturdy, with a straightforward, rectangular face. Her stare was calm and firm, and it made Elend uncomfortable to hold it for long.

“So, what did you expect to overhear, woman?” Elend asked.

The Terriswoman ignored the comment. She turned to the others, and spoke in a lightly accented voice. “I would speak with the king alone. The rest of you are excused.” Ham smiled. “Well, at least she’s got nerve.”

Dockson addressed the Terriswoman. “What makes you think that we would leave our king alone with you?” “His Majesty and I have things to discuss,” the woman said in a businesslike manner, as if oblivious of—or unconcerned about—her status as a prisoner. “You needn’t be worried about his safety; I’m certain that the young Mistborn hiding outside the window will be more than enough to deal with me.” Elend glanced to the side, toward the small ventilation window beside the more massive stained-glass one. How would the Terriswoman have known that Vin was watching? Her ears would have to be extraordinarily keen. Keen enough, perhaps, to listen in on the meeting through a stone wall?

Elend turned back to the newcomer. “You’re a Keeper.”

She nodded.

“Did Sazed send you?”

“It is because of him that I am here,” she said. “But I was not ‘sent.’” “Ham, it’s all right,” Elend said slowly. “You can go.”

“Are you sure?” Ham asked, frowning.

“Leave me bound, if you wish,” the woman said.

If she really is a Feruchemist, that won’t be much of a hindrance, Elend thought. Of course, if she really is a Feruchemist—a Keeper, like Sazed—I shouldn’t have anything to fear from her. Theoretically.

The others shuffled from the room, their postures indicating what they thought of Elend’s decision. Though they were no longer thieves by profession, Elend suspected that they—like Vin—would always bear the effects of their upbringing.

“We’ll be just outside, El,” Ham—the last one out—said, then pulled the door shut.

And yet, any who know me will realize that there was no chance I would give up so easily. Once I find something to investigate, I become dogged in my pursuit.