فصل 22

22

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.” “My apologies, Mistress, but I don’t want you to know me.”

Vin sighed. So much for that.

But…well, Kelsier and the others hadn’t turned away when she’d been blunt with them. There was a familiar tone to OreSeur’s words. Something in them that she recognized.

“Anonymity,” Vin said quietly.

“Mistress?”

“Anonymity. Hiding, even when you’re with others. Being quiet, unobtrusive. Forcing yourself to stay apart—emotionally, at least. It’s a way of life. A protection.” OreSeur didn’t answer.

“You serve beneath masters,” Vin said. “Harsh men who fear your competence. The only way to keep them from hating you is to make certain they don’t pay attention to you. So, you make yourself look small and weak. Not a threat. But sometimes you say the wrong thing, or you let your rebelliousness show.” She turned toward him. He was watching her. “Yes,” he finally said, turning to look back over the city.

“They hate you,” Vin said quietly. “They hate you because of your powers, because they can’t make you break your word, or because they worry that you are too strong to control.” “They become afraid of you,” OreSeur said. “They grow paranoid—terrified, even as they use you, that you will take their place. Despite the Contract, despite knowing that no kandra would break his sacred vow, they fear you. And men hate what they fear.” “And so,” Vin said, “they find excuses to beat you. Sometimes, even your efforts to remain harmless seem to provoke them. They hate your skill, they hate the fact that they don’t have more reasons to beat you, so they beat you.” OreSeur turned back to her. “How do you know these things?” he demanded.

Vin shrugged. “That’s not only how they treat kandra, OreSeur. That’s the same way crewleaders treat a young girl—an anomaly in a thieving underground filled with men. A child who had a strange ability to make things happen—to influence people, to hear what she shouldn’t, to move more quietly and quickly than others. A tool, yet a threat at the same time.” “I…didn’t realize, Mistress….”

Vin frowned. How could he not have known about my past? He knew I was a street urchin. Except…had he? For the first time, Vin realized how OreSeur must have seen her two years before, when she’d first met him. He had arrived in the area after her recruitment; he probably assumed that she’d been part of Kelsier’s team for years, like the others.

“Kelsier recruited me for the first time just a few days before I met you,” Vin said. “Well, actually, he didn’t so much recruit me as rescue me. I spent my childhood serving in one thieving crew after another, always working for the least reputable and most dangerous men, for those were the only ones who would take in a couple of transients like my brother and me. The smart crewleaders learned that I was a good tool. I’m not sure if they figured out that I was an Allomancer—some probably did, others just thought I was ‘lucky.’ Either way, they needed me. And that made them hate me.” “So they beat you?”

Vin nodded. “The last one especially. That was when I was really beginning to figure out how to use Allomancy, even though I didn’t know what it was. Camon knew, though. And he hated me even as he used me. I think he was afraid that I would figure out how to use my powers fully. And on that day, he worried that I would kill him…” Vin turned her head, looking at OreSeur. “Kill him and take his place as crewleader.” OreSeur sat quietly, up on his haunches now, regarding her.

“Kandra aren’t the only ones that humans treat poorly,” Vin said quietly. “We’re pretty good at abusing each other, too.” OreSeur snorted. “With you, at least, they had to hold back for fear they’d kill you. Have you ever been beaten by a master who knows that no matter how hard he hits, you won’t die? All he has to do is get you a new set of bones, and you’ll be ready to serve again the next day. We are the ultimate servant—you can beat us to death in the morning, then have us serve you dinner that night. All the sadism, none of the cost.” Vin closed her eyes. “I understand. I wasn’t a kandra, but I did have pewter. I think Camon knew he could beat me far harder than he should have been able to.” “Why didn’t you run?” OreSeur asked. “You didn’t have a Contract bonding you to him.” “I…don’t know,” Vin said. “People are strange, OreSeur, and loyalty is so often twisted. I stayed with Camon because he was familiar, and I feared leaving more than I did staying. That crew was all I had. My brother was gone, and I was terrified of being alone. It seems kind of strange now, thinking back.” “Sometimes a bad situation is still better than the alternative. You did what you needed to do to survive.” “Perhaps,” Vin said. “But there’s a better way, OreSeur. I didn’t know it until Kelsier found me, but life doesn’t have to be like that. You don’t have to spend your years mistrusting, staying in the shadows and keeping yourself apart.” “Perhaps if you are human. I am kandra.”

“You can still trust,” Vin said. “You don’t have to hate your masters.” “I don’t hate them all, Mistress.”

“But you don’t trust them.”

“It is nothing personal, Mistress.”

“Yes it is,” Vin said. “You don’t trust us because you’re afraid we’ll hurt you. I understand that—I spent months with Kelsier wondering when I was going to get hurt again.” She paused. “But OreSeur, nobody betrayed us. Kelsier was right. It seems incredible to me even now, but the men in this crew—Ham, Dockson, Breeze—they’re good people. And, even if one of them were to betray me, I’d still rather have trusted them. I can sleep at night, OreSeur. I can feel peace, I can laugh. Life is different. Better.” “You are human,” OreSeur said stubbornly. “You can have friends because they don’t worry that you’ll eat them, or some other foolishness.” “I don’t think that about you.”

“Don’t you? Mistress, you just admitted that you resent me because I ate Kelsier. Beyond that, you hate the fact that I followed my Contract. You, at least, have been honest.

“Human beings find us disturbing. They hate that we eat their kind, even though we only take bodies that are already dead. Your people find it unsettling that we can take their forms. Don’t tell me that you haven’t heard the legends of my people. Mistwraiths, they call us—creatures that steal the shapes of men who go into the mists. You think a monster like that, a legend used to frighten children, will ever find acceptance in your society?” Vin frowned.

“This is the reason for the Contract, Mistress,” OreSeur said, his muffled voice harsh as he spoke through dog’s lips. “You wonder why we don’t just run away from you? Meld into your society, and become unseen? We tried that. Long ago, when the Final Empire was new. Your people found us, and they started to destroy us. They used Mistborn to hunt us down, for there were many more Allomancers in those days. Your people hated us because they feared we would replace them. We were almost completely destroyed—and then we came up with the Contract.” “But, what difference does that make?” Vin asked. “You’re still doing the same things, aren’t you?” “Yes, but now we do them at your command,” OreSeur said. “Men like power, and they love controlling something powerful. Our people offered to serve, and we devised a binding contract—one that every kandra vowed to uphold. We will not kill men. We will take bones only when we are commanded. We will serve our masters with absolute obedience. We began to do these things, and men stopped killing us. They still hated and feared us—but they also knew they could command us.

“We became your tools. As long as we remain subservient, Mistress, we survive. And that is why I obey. To break the Contract would be to betray my people. We cannot fight you, not while you have Mistborn, and so we must serve you.” Mistborn. Why are Mistborn so important? He implied that they could find kandra….

She kept this tidbit to herself; she sensed that if she pointed it out, he’d close up again. So, instead, she sat up and met his eyes in the darkness. “If you wish, I will free you from your Contract.” “And what would that change?” OreSeur asked. “I’d just get another Contract. By our laws I must wait another decade before I have time for freedom—and then only two years, during which time I won’t be able to leave the kandra Homeland. To do otherwise would risk exposure.” “Then, at least accept my apology,” she asked. “I was foolish to resent you for following your Contract.” OreSeur paused. “That still doesn’t fix things, Mistress. I still have to wear this cursed dog’s body—I have no personality or bones to imitate!” “I’d think that you would appreciate the opportunity simply to be yourself.” “I feel naked,” OreSeur said. He sat quietly for a moment; then he bowed his head. “But…I have to admit that there are advantages to these bones. I didn’t realize how unobtrusive they would make me.” Vin nodded. “There were times in my life when I would have given anything to be able to take the form of a dog and just live my life being ignored.” “But not anymore?”

Vin shook her head. “No. Not most of the time, anyway. I used to think that everyone was like you say—hateful, hurtful. But there are good people in the world, OreSeur. I wish I could prove that to you.” “You speak of this king of yours,” OreSeur said, glancing toward the keep.

“Yes,” Vin said. “And others.”

“You?”

Vin shook her head. “No, not me. I’m not a good person or a bad person. I’m just here to kill things.” OreSeur watched her for a moment, then settled back down. “Regardless,” he said, “you are not my worst master. That is, perhaps, a compliment among our people.” Vin smiled, but her own words left her a bit haunted. Just here to kill things….

She glanced toward the light of the armies outside the city. A part—the part that had been trained by Reen, the part that still occasionally used his voice in the back of her mind—whispered that there was another way to fight these armies. Rather than rely on politics and parlays, the crew could use Vin. Send her on a quiet visit into the night that left the kings and generals of the armies dead.

But, she knew that Elend wouldn’t approve of something like that. He’d argue against using fear to motivate, even on one’s enemies. He’d point out that if she killed Straff or Cett, they’d just be replaced by other men, men even more hostile toward the city.

Even so, it seemed like such a brutal, logical answer. A piece of Vin itched to do it, if only to be doing something other than waiting and talking. She was not a person meant to be besieged.

No, she thought. That’s not my way. I don’t have to be like Kelsier was. Hard. Unyielding. I can be something better. Something that trusts in Elend’s way.

She shoved aside that part of her that wanted to just go assassinate both Straff and Cett, then turned her attention to other things. She focused on her bronze, watching for signs of Allomancy. Though she liked to jump around and “patrol” the area, the truth was that she was just as effective staying in one place. Assassins would be likely to scout the front gates, for that was where patrols began and the largest concentration of soldiers waited.

Still, she felt her mind wandering. There were forces moving in the world, and Vin wasn’t certain if she wanted to be part of them.

What is my place? she thought. She never felt that she’d discovered it—not back when she’d been playing as Valette Renoux, and not now, when she acted as the bodyguard to the man she loved. Nothing quite fit.

She closed her eyes, burning tin and bronze, feeling the touch of wind-borne mist on her skin. And, oddly, she felt something else, something very faint. In the distance she could sense Allomantic pulsings. They were so dull she almost missed them.

They were kind of like the pulses given off by the mist spirit. She could hear it, too, much closer. Atop a building out in the city. She was getting used to its presence, not that she had much choice. Still, as long as it only watched….

It tried to kill one of the Hero’s companions, she thought. It knifed him, somehow. Or so the logbook claimed.

But…what was that pulsing in the far distance? It was soft…yet powerful. Like a faraway drum. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing.

“Mistress?” OreSeur said, suddenly perking up.

Vin snapped her eyes open. “What?”

“Didn’t you hear that?”

Vin sat up. “Wha—” Then she picked it out. Footsteps outside the wall a short distance away. She leaned closer, noticing a dark figure walking down the street toward the keep. She’d been so focused on her bronze that she’d completely tuned out real sounds.

“Good job,” she said, approaching the edge of the guard station’s roof. Only then did she realize something important. OreSeur had taken the initiative: he’d alerted her of the danger without specifically being ordered to listen.

It was a small thing, but it seemed important.

“What do you think?” she asked quietly, watching the figure approach. He carried no torch, and he seemed very comfortable in the mists.

“Allomancer?” OreSeur asked, crouching beside her.

Vin shook her head. “There’s no Allomantic pulse.”

“So if he is one, he’s Mistborn,” OreSeur said. He still didn’t know she could pierce copperclouds. “He’s too tall to be your friend Zane. Be careful, Mistress.” Vin nodded, dropped a coin, then threw herself into the mists. Behind her, OreSeur jumped down from the guardhouse, then leapt off the wall and dropped some twenty feet to the ground.

He certainly does like to push the limits of those bones, she thought. Of course, if a fall couldn’t kill him, then she could perhaps understand his courage.

She guided herself by Pulling on the nails in a wooden roof, landing just a short distance from the dark figure. She pulled out her knives and prepared her metals, making certain she had duralumin. Then she moved quietly across the street.

Surprise, she thought. Ham’s suggestion still left her nervous. She couldn’t always depend on surprise. She followed the man, studying him. He was tall—very tall. And in robes. In fact, those robes… Vin stopped short. “Sazed?” she asked with shock.

The Terrisman turned, face now visible to her tin-enhanced eyes. He smiled. “Ah, Lady Vin,” he said with his familiar, wise voice. “I was beginning to wonder how long it would take you to find me. You are—” He was cut off as Vin grabbed him in an excited embrace. “I didn’t think you were going to come back so soon!” “I was not planning to return, Lady Vin,” Sazed said. “But events are such that I could not avoid this place, I think. Come, we must speak with His Majesty. I have news of a rather disconcerting nature.” Vin let go, looking up at his kindly face, noting the tiredness in his eyes. Exhaustion. His robes were dirty and smelled of ash and sweat. Sazed was usually very meticulous, even when he traveled. “What is it?” she asked.

“Problems, Lady Vin,” he said quietly. “Problems and troubles.”

The Terris rejected him, but he came to lead them.