فصل 5

5

Vin could see signs of anxiety reflected in the city. Workers milled anxiously and markets bustled with an edge of concern—showing that same apprehension that one might see in a cornered rodent. Frightened, but not sure what to do. Doomed with nowhere to run.

Many had left the city during the last year—noblemen fleeing, merchants seeking some other place of business. Yet, at the same time, the city had swelled with an influx of skaa. They had somehow heard of Elend’s proclamation of freedom, and had come with optimism—or, at least, as much optimism as an overworked, underfed, repeatedly beaten populace could manage.

And so, despite predictions that Luthadel would soon fall, despite whispers that its army was small and weak, the people had stayed. Worked. Lived. Just as they always had. The life of a skaa had never been very certain.

It was still strange for Vin to see the market so busy. She walked down Kenton Street, wearing her customary trousers and buttoned shirt, thinking about the time when she’d visited the street during the days before the Collapse. It had been the quiet home of some exclusive tailoring shops.

When Elend had abolished the restrictions on skaa merchants, Kenton Street had changed. The thoroughfare had blossomed into a wild bazaar of shops, pushcarts, and tents. In order to target the newly empowered—and newly waged—skaa workers, the shop owners had altered their selling methods. Where once they had coaxed with rich window displays, they now called and demanded, using criers, salesmen, and even jugglers to try to attract trade.

The street was so busy that Vin usually avoided it, and this day was even worse than most. The arrival of the army had sparked a last-minute flurry of buying and selling, the people trying to get ready for whatever was to come. There was a grim tone to the atmosphere. Fewer street performers, more yelling. Elend had ordered all eight city gates barred, so flight was no longer an option. Vin wondered how many of the people regretted their decision to stay.

She walked down the street with a businesslike step, hands clasped to keep the nervousness out of her posture. Even as a child—an urchin on the streets of a dozen different cities—she hadn’t liked crowds. It was hard to keep track of so many people, hard to focus with so much going on. As a child, she’d stayed near the edges of crowds, hiding, venturing out to snatch the occasional fallen coin or ignored bit of food.

She was different now. She forced herself to walk with a straight back, and kept her eyes from glancing down or looking for places to hide. She was getting so much better—but seeing the crowds reminded her of what she had once been. What she would always—at least in part—still be.

As if in response to her thoughts, a pair of street urchins scampered through the throng, a large man in a baker’s apron screaming at them. There were still urchins in Elend’s new world. In fact, as she considered it, paying the skaa population probably made for a far better street life for urchins. There were more pockets to pick, more people to distract the shop owners, more scraps to go around, and more hands to feed beggars.

It was difficult to reconcile her childhood with such a life. To her, a child on the street was someone who learned to be quiet and hide, someone who went out at night to search through garbage. Only the most brave of urchins had dared cut purses; skaa lives had been worthless to many noblemen. During her childhood, Vin had known several urchins who been killed or maimed by passing noblemen who found them offensive.

Elend’s laws might not have eliminated the poor, something he so much wanted to do, but he had improved the lives of even the street urchins. For that—among other things—she loved him.

There were still some noblemen in the crowd, men who had been persuaded by Elend or circumstances that their fortunes would be safer in the city than without. They were desperate, weak, or adventuresome. Vin watched one man pass, surrounded by a group of guards. He didn’t give her a second glance; to him, her simple clothing was reason enough to ignore her. No noblewoman would dress as she did.

Is that what I am? she wondered, pausing beside a shop window, looking over the books inside—the sale of which had always been a small, but profitable, market for the idle imperial nobility. She also used the glass reflection to make certain no one snuck up behind her. Am I a noblewoman?

It could be argued that she was noble simply by association. The king himself loved her—had asked her to marry him—and she had been trained by the Survivor of Hathsin. Indeed, her father had been noble, even if her mother had been skaa. Vin reached up, fingering the simple bronze earring that was the only thing she had as a memento of Mother.

It wasn’t much. But, then, Vin wasn’t sure she wanted to think about her mother all that much. The woman had, after all, tried to kill Vin. In fact, she had killed Vin’s full sister. Only the actions of Reen, Vin’s half brother, had saved her. He had pulled Vin, bloody, from the arms of a woman who had shoved the earring into Vin’s ear just moments before.

And still Vin kept it. As a reminder, of sorts. The truth was, she didn’t feel like a noblewoman. At times, she thought she had more in common with her insane mother than she did with the aristocracy of Elend’s world. The balls and parties she had attended before the Collapse—they had been a charade. A dreamlike memory. They had no place in this world of collapsing governments and nightly assassinations. Plus, Vin’s part in the balls—pretending to be the girl Valette Renoux—had always been a sham.

She pretended still. Pretended not to be the girl who had grown up starving on the streets, a girl who had been beaten far more often than she had been befriended. Vin sighed, turning from the window. The next shop, however, drew her attention despite herself.

It contained ball gowns.

The shop was empty of patrons; few thought of gowns on the eve of an invasion. Vin paused before the open doorway, held almost as if she were metal being Pulled. Inside, dressing dummies stood posed in majestic gowns. Vin looked up at the garments, with their tight waists and tapering, bell-like skirts. She could almost imagine she was at a ball, soft music in the background, tables draped in perfect white, Elend standing up on his balcony, leafing through a book….

She almost went in. But why bother? The city was about to be attacked. Besides, the garments were expensive. It had been different when she’d spent Kelsier’s money. Now she spent Elend’s money—and Elend’s money was the kingdom’s money.

She turned from the gowns and walked back out onto the street. Those aren’t me anymore. Valette is useless to Elend—he needs a Mistborn, not an uncomfortable girl in a gown that she doesn’t quite fill. Her wounds from the night before, now firm bruises, were a reminder of her place. They were healing well—she’d been burning pewter heavily all day—but she’d be stiff for a while yet.

Vin quickened her pace, heading for the livestock pens. As she walked, however, she caught sight of someone tailing her.

Well, perhaps “tailing” was too generous a word—the man certainly wasn’t doing a very good job of going unnoticed. He was balding on top, but wore the sides of his hair long. He wore a simple skaa’s smock: a single-piece tan garment that was stained dark with ash.

Great, Vin thought. There was another reason she avoided the market—or any place where crowds of skaa gathered.

She sped up again, but the man hurried as well. Soon, his awkward movements gained attention—but, instead of cursing him, most people paused reverently. Soon others joined him, and Vin had a small crowd trailing her.

A part of her wanted to just slap down a coin and shoot away. Yes, Vin thought to herself wryly, use Allomancy in the daylight. That’ll make you inconspicuous.

So, sighing, she turned to confront the group. None of them looked particularly threatening. The men wore trousers and dull shirts; the women wore one-piece, utilitarian dresses. Several more men wore single-piece, ash-covered smocks.

Priests of the Survivor.

“Lady Heir,” one of them said, approaching and falling to his knees.

“Don’t call me that,” Vin said quietly.

The priest looked up at her. “Please. We need direction. We have cast off the Lord Ruler. What do we do now?” Vin took a step backward. Had Kelsier understood what he was doing? He had built up the skaa’s faith in him, then had died a martyr to turn them in rage against the Final Empire. What had he thought would happen after that? Could he have foreseen the Church of the Survivor—had he known that they would replace the Lord Ruler with Kelsier himself as God?

The problem was, Kelsier had left his followers with no doctrine. His only goal had been to defeat the Lord Ruler; partially to get his revenge, partially to seal his legacy, and partially—Vin hoped—because he had wanted to free the skaa.

But now what? These people must feel as she did. Set adrift, with no light to guide them.

Vin could not be that light. “I’m not Kelsier,” she said quietly, taking another step backward.

“We know,” one of the men said. “You’re his heir—he passed on, and this time you Survived.” “Please,” a woman said, stepping forward, holding a young child in her arms. “Lady Heir. If the hand that struck down the Lord Ruler could touch my child…” Vin tried to back away farther, but realized she was up against another crowd of people. The woman stepped closer, and Vin finally raised an uncertain hand to the baby’s forehead.

“Thank you,” the woman said.

“You’ll protect us, won’t you, Lady Heir?” asked a young man—no older than Elend—with a dirty face but honest eyes. “The priests say that you’ll stop that army out there, that its soldiers won’t be able to enter the city while you’re here.” That was too much for her. Vin mumbled a halfhearted response, but turned and pushed her way through the crowd. The group of believers didn’t follow her, fortunately.

She was breathing deeply, though not from exertion, by the time she slowed. She moved into an alley between two shops, standing in the shade, wrapping her arms around herself. She had spent her life learning to remain unnoticed, to be quiet and unimportant. Now she could be none of those things.

What did the people expect of her? Did they really think that she could stop an army by herself? That was one lesson she’d learned very early into her training: Mistborn weren’t invincible. One man, she could kill. Ten men could give her trouble. An army… Vin held herself and took a few calming breaths. Eventually, she moved back out onto the busy street. She was near her destination now—a small, open-sided tent surrounded by four pens. The merchant lounged by it, a scruffy man who had hair on only half of his head—the right half. Vin stood for a moment, trying to decide if the odd hairstyle was due to disease, injury, or preference.

The man perked up when he saw her standing at the edge of his pens. He brushed himself off, throwing up a small amount of dust. Then he sauntered up to her, smiling with what teeth he still had, acting as if he hadn’t heard—or didn’t care—that there was an army just outside.

“Ah, young lady,” he said. “Lookin’ for a pup? I’ve got some wee scamps that any girl is sure to love. Here, let me grab one. You’ll agree it’s the cutest thing you ever seen.” Vin folded her arms as the man reached down to grab a puppy from one of the pens. “Actually,” she said, “I was looking for a wolfhound.” The merchant looked up. “Wolfhound, miss? ‘Tis no pet for a girl like yourself. Mean brutes, those. Let me find you a nice bobbie. Nice dogs, those—smart, too.” “No,” Vin said, drawing him up short. “You will bring me a wolfhound.” The man paused again, looking at her, scratching himself in several undignified places. “Well, I guess I can see…” He wandered toward the pen farthest from the street. Vin waited quietly, nose downturned at the smell as the merchant yelled at a few of his animals, selecting an appropriate one. Eventually, he pulled a leashed dog up to Vin. It was a wolfhound, if a small one—but it had sweet, docile eyes, and an obviously pleasant temperament.

“The runt of the litter,” the merchant said. “A good animal for a young girl, I’d say. Will probably make an excellent hunter, too. These wolfhounds, they can smell better than any beast you seen.” Vin reached for her coin purse, but paused, looking down at the dog’s panting face. It almost seemed to be smiling at her.

“Oh, for the Lord Ruler’s sake,” she snapped, pushing past the dog and master, stalking toward the back pens.

“Young lady?” the merchant asked, following uncertainly.

Vin scanned the wolfhounds. Near the back, she spotted a massive black and gray beast. It was chained to a post, and it regarded her defiantly, a low growl rising in its throat.

Vin pointed. “How much for that one in the back?”

“That?” the merchant asked. “Good lady, that’s a watchbeast. It’s meant to be set loose on a lord’s grounds to attack anyone who enters! It’s the one of the meanest things you’ll ever see!” “Perfect,” Vin said, pulling out some coins.

“Good lady, I couldn’t possibly sell you that beast. Not possibly at all. Why, I’ll bet it weighs half again as much as you do.” Vin nodded, then pulled open the pen gate and strode in. The merchant cried out, but Vin walked right up to the wolfhound. He began to bark wildly at her, frothing.

Sorry about this, Vin thought. Then, burning pewter, she ducked in and slammed her fist into the animal’s head.

The animal froze, wobbled, then fell unconscious in the dirt. The merchant stopped up short beside her, mouth open.

“Leash,” Vin ordered.

He gave her one. She used it to tie the wolfhound’s feet together, and then—with a flare of pewter—she threw the animal over her shoulders. She cringed only slightly at the pain in her side.

This thing better not get drool on my shirt, she thought, handing the merchant some coins and walking back toward the palace.

Vin slammed the unconscious wolfhound to the floor. The guards had given her some strange looks as she entered the palace, but she was getting used to those. She brushed off her hands.

“What is that?” OreSeur asked. He’d made it back to her rooms at the palace, but his current body was obviously unusable. He’d needed to form muscles in places that men didn’t normally have them to even keep the skeleton together, and while he’d healed his wounds, his body looked unnatural. He still wore the bloodstained clothing from the night before.

“This,” Vin said, pointing at the wolfhound, “is your new body.”

OreSeur paused. “That? Mistress, that is a dog.”

“Yes,” Vin said.

“I am a man.”

“You’re a kandra,” Vin said. “You can imitate flesh and muscle. What about fur?” The kandra did not look pleased. “I cannot imitate it,” he said, “but I can use the beast’s own fur, like I use its bones. However, surely there is—” “I’m not going to kill for you, kandra,” Vin said. “And even if I did kill someone, I wouldn’t let you…eat them. Plus, this will be more inconspicuous. People will begin to talk if I keep replacing my stewards with unknown men. I’ve been telling people for months that I was thinking of dismissing you. Well, I’ll tell them that I finally did—nobody will think to realize that my new pet hound is actually my kandra.” She turned, nodding toward the carcass. “This will be very useful. People pay less attention to hounds than they do to humans, and so you’ll be able to listen in on conversations.” OreSeur’s frown deepened. “I will not do this thing easily. You will need to compel me, by virtue of the Contract.” “Fine,” Vin said. “You’re commanded. How long will it take?”

“A regular body only takes a few hours,” OreSeur said. “This could take longer. Getting that much fur to look right will be challenging.” “Get started, then,” Vin said, turning toward the door. On her way, however, she noticed a small package sitting on her desk. She frowned, walking over and taking off the lid. A small note sat inside.

Lady Vin,

Here is the next alloy you requested. Aluminum is very difficult to acquire, but when a noble family recently left the city, I was able to buy some of their diningware.

I do not know if this one will work, but I believe it worth a try. I have mixed the aluminum with four percent copper, and found the outcome quite promising. I have read of this composition; it is called duralumin.

Your servant, Terion

Vin smiled, setting aside the note and removing the rest of the box’s contents: a small pouch of metal dust and a thin silvery bar, both presumably of this “duralumin” metal. Terion was a master Allomantic metallurgist. Though not an Allomancer himself, he had been mixing alloys and creating dusts for Mistborn and Mistings for most of his life.

Vin pocketed both pouch and bar, then turned toward OreSeur. The kandra regarded her with a flat expression.

“This came for me today?” Vin asked, nodding to the box.

“Yes, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “A few hours ago.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m sorry, Mistress,” OreSeur said in his toneless way, “but you did not command me to tell you if packages arrived.” Vin ground her teeth. He knew how anxiously she’d been waiting for another alloy from Terion. All of the previous aluminum alloys they’d tried had turned out to be duds. It bothered her to know that there was another Allomantic metal out there somewhere, waiting to be discovered. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she found it.

OreSeur just sat where he was, bland expression on his face, unconscious wolfhound on the floor in front of him.

“Just get to work on that body,” Vin said, spinning and leaving the room to search for Elend.

Vin finally found Elend in his study, going over some ledgers with a familiar figure.

“Dox!” Vin said. He’d retired to his rooms soon after his arrival the day before, and she hadn’t seen much of him.

Dockson looked up and smiled. Stocky without being fat, he had short dark hair and still wore his customary half beard. “Hello, Vin.” “How was Terris?” she asked.

“Cold,” Dockson replied. “I’m glad to be back. Though I wish I hadn’t arrived to find that army here.” “Either way, we’re glad you’ve returned, Dockson,” Elend said. “The kingdom practically fell apart without you.” “That hardly seems the case,” Dockson said, closing his ledger and setting it on the stack. “All things—and armies—considered, it looks like the royal bureaucracy held together fairly well in my absence. You hardly need me anymore!” “Nonsense!” Elend said.

Vin leaned against the door, eyeing the two men as they continued their discussion. They maintained their air of forced joviality. Both were dedicated to making the new kingdom work, even if it meant pretending that they liked each other. Dockson pointed at places in the ledgers, talking about finances and what he’d discovered in the outlying villages under Elend’s control.

Vin sighed, glancing across the room. Sunlight streamed through the room’s stained-glass rose window, throwing colors across the ledgers and table. Even now, Vin still wasn’t accustomed to the casual richness of a noble keep. The window—red and lavender—was a thing of intricate beauty. Yet, noblemen apparently found its like so commonplace that they had put this one in the keep’s back rooms, in the small chamber that Elend now used as his study.

As one might expect, the room was piled with stacks of books. Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, but they were no match for the sheer volume of Elend’s growing collection. She’d never cared much for Elend’s taste in books. They were mostly political or historical works, things with topics as musty as their aged pages. Many of them had once been forbidden by the Steel Ministry, but somehow the old philosophers could make even salacious topics seem boring.

“Anyway,” Dockson said, finally closing his ledgers. “I have some things to do before your speech tomorrow, Your Majesty. Did Ham say there’s a city defense meeting that evening as well?” Elend nodded. “Assuming I can get the Assembly to agree not to hand the city over to my father, we’ll need to come up with a strategy to deal with this army. I’ll send someone for you tomorrow night.” “Good,” Dockson said. With that, he nodded to Elend, winked at Vin, then made his way from the cluttered room.

As Dockson shut the door, Elend sighed, then relaxed back in his oversized plush chair.

Vin walked forward. “He really is a good man, Elend.”

“Oh, I realize he is. Being a good man doesn’t always make one likable, however.” “He’s nice, too,” Vin said. “Sturdy, calm, stable. The crew relied on him.” Even though Dockson wasn’t an Allomancer, he had been Kelsier’s right-hand man.

“He doesn’t like me, Vin,” Elend said. “It’s…very hard to get along with someone who looks at me like that.” “You’re not giving him a fair chance,” Vin complained, stopping beside Elend’s chair.

He looked up at her, smiling wanly, his vest unbuttoned, his hair an absolute mess. “Hum…” he said idly, taking her hand. “I really like that shirt. Red looks good on you.” Vin rolled her eyes, letting him gently pull her into the chair and kiss her. There was a passion to the kiss—a need, perhaps, for something stable. Vin responded, feeling herself relax as she pulled up against him. A few minutes later, she sighed, feeling much better snuggled into the chair beside him. He pulled her close, leaning the chair back into the window’s sunlight.

He smiled and glanced at her. “That’s a…new perfume you’re wearing.” Vin snorted, putting her head against his chest. “It’s not perfume, Elend. It’s dog.” “Ah, good,” Elend said. “I was worried that you’d departed from your senses. Now, is there any particular reason why you smell like dog?” “I went to the market and bought one, then carried it back and fed it to OreSeur, so it can be his new body.” Elend paused. “Why, Vin. That’s brilliant! Nobody will suspect a dog to be a spy. I wonder if anyone’s ever thought of that before….” “Someone must have,” Vin said. “I mean, it makes such sense. I suspect those who thought of it, however, didn’t share the knowledge.” “Good point,” Elend said, relaxing back. Yet, from as close as they were, she could still feel a tension in him.

Tomorrow’s speech, Vin thought. He’s worried about it.

“I must say, however,” Elend said idly, “that I find it a bit disappointing that you’re not wearing dog-scented perfume. With your social station, I could see some of the local noblewomen trying to imitate you. That could be amusing indeed.” She leaned up, looking at his smirking face. “You know, Elend—sometimes it’s bloody difficult to tell when you’re teasing, and when you’re just being dense.” “That makes me more mysterious, right?”

“Something like that,” she said, snuggling up against him again.

“Now, see, you don’t understand how clever that is of me,” he said. “If people can’t tell when I’m being an idiot and when I’m being a genius, perhaps they’ll assume my blunders are brilliant political maneuverings.” “As long as they don’t mistake your actual brilliant moves for blunders.” “That shouldn’t be difficult,” Elend said. “I fear I have few enough of those for people to mistake.” Vin looked up with concern at the edge in his voice. He, however, smiled, shifting the topic. “So, OreSeur the dog. Will he still be able to go out with you at nights?” Vin shrugged. “I guess. I wasn’t really planning on bringing him for a while.” “I’d like it if you did take him,” Elend said. “I worry about you out there, every night, pushing yourself so hard.” “I can handle it,” Vin said. “Someone needs to watch over you.”

“Yes,” Elend said, “but who watches over you?”

Kelsier. Even now, that was still her immediate reaction. She’d known him for less than a year, but that year had been the first in her life that she had felt protected.

Kelsier was dead. She, like the rest of the world, had to live without him.

“I know you were hurt when you fought those Allomancers the other night,” Elend said. “It would be really nice for my psyche if I knew someone was with you.” “A kandra’s no bodyguard,” Vin said.

“I know,” Elend said. “But they’re incredibly loyal—I’ve never heard of one breaking Contract. He’ll watch out for you. I worry about you, Vin. You wonder why I stay up so late, scribbling at my proposals? I can’t sleep, knowing that you might be out there fighting—or, worse, lying somewhere in a street, dying because nobody was there to help you.” “I take OreSeur with me sometimes.”

“Yes,” Elend said, “but I know you find excuses to leave him behind. Kelsier bought you the services of an incredibly valuable servant. I can’t understand why you work so hard to avoid him.” Vin closed her eyes. “Elend. He ate Kelsier.”

“So?” Elend asked. “Kelsier was already dead. Besides, he himself gave that order.” Vin sighed, opening her eyes. “I just…don’t trust that thing, Elend. The creature is unnatural.” “I know,” Elend said. “My father always kept a kandra. But, OreSeur is something, at least. Please. Promise me you’ll take him with you.” “All right. But I don’t think he’s going to like the arrangement much either. He and I didn’t get along very well even when he was playing Renoux, and I his niece.” Elend shrugged. “He’ll hold to his Contract. That’s what is important.” “He holds to the Contract,” Vin said, “but only grudgingly. I swear that he enjoys frustrating me.” Elend looked down at her. “Vin, kandra are excellent servants. They don’t do things like that.” “No, Elend,” Vin said. “Sazed was an excellent servant. He enjoyed being with people, helping them. I never felt that he resented me. OreSeur may do everything I command, but he doesn’t like me; he never has. I can tell.” Elend sighed, rubbing her shoulder. “Don’t you think you might be a little irrational? There’s no real reason to hate him so.” “Oh?” Vin asked. “Just like there’s no reason you shouldn’t get along with Dockson?” Elend paused. Then he sighed. “I guess you have a point,” he said. He continued to rub Vin’s shoulder as he stared upward, toward the ceiling, contemplative.

“What?” Vin asked.

“I’m not doing a very good job of this, am I?”

“Don’t be foolish,” Vin said. “You’re a wonderful king.”

“I might be a passable king, Vin, but I’m not him.”

“Who?”

“Kelsier,” Elend said quietly.

“Elend, nobody expects you to be Kelsier.”

“Oh?” he said. “That’s why Dockson doesn’t like me. He hates noblemen; it’s obvious in the way that he talks, the way he acts. I don’t know if I really blame him, considering the life he’s known. Regardless, he doesn’t think I should be king. He thinks that a skaa should be in my place—or, even better, Kelsier. They all think that.” “That’s nonsense, Elend.”

“Really? And if Kelsier still lived, would I be king?”

Vin paused.

“You see? They accept me—the people, the merchants, even the noblemen. But in the back of their minds, they wish they had Kelsier instead.” “I don’t wish that.”

“Don’t you?”

Vin frowned. Then she sat up, turning so that she was kneeling over Elend in the reclined chair, their faces just inches apart. “Don’t you ever wonder that, Elend. Kelsier was my teacher, but I didn’t love him. Not like I love you.” Elend stared into her eyes, then nodded. Vin kissed him deeply, then snuggled down beside him again.

“Why not?” Elend eventually asked.

“Well, he was old, for one thing.”

Elend chuckled. “I seem to recall you making fun of my age as well.” “That’s different,” Vin said. “You’re only a few years older than me—Kelsier was ancient.” “Vin, thirty-eight is not ancient.”

“Close enough.”

Elend chuckled again, but she could tell that he wasn’t satisfied. Why had she chosen Elend, rather than Kelsier? Kelsier had been the visionary, the hero, the Mistborn.

“Kelsier was a great man,” Vin said quietly as Elend began to stroke her hair. “But…there were things about him, Elend. Frightening things. He was intense, reckless, even a little bit cruel. Unforgiving. He’d slaughter people without guilt or concern, just because they upheld the Final Empire or worked for the Lord Ruler.

“I could love him as a teacher and a friend. But I don’t think I could ever love—not really love—a man like that. I don’t blame him; he was of the streets, like me. When you struggle so hard for life, you grow strong—but you can grow harsh, too. His fault or not, Kelsier reminded me too much of men I…knew when I was younger. Kell was a far better person than they—he really could be kind, and he did sacrifice his life for the skaa. However, he was just so hard.” She closed her eyes, feeling Elend’s warmth. “You, Elend Venture, are a good man. A truly good man.” “Good men don’t become legends,” he said quietly.

“Good men don’t need to become legends.” She opened her eyes, looking up at him. “They just do what’s right anyway.” Elend smiled. Then he kissed the top of her head and leaned back. They lay there for a time, in a room warm with sunlight, relaxing.

“He saved my life, once,” Elend finally said.

“Who?” Vin asked with surprise. “Kelsier?”

Elend nodded. “That day after Spook and OreSeur were captured, the day Kelsier died. There was a battle in the square when Ham and some soldiers tried to free the captives.” “I was there,” Vin said. “Hiding with Breeze and Dox in one of the alleyways.” “Really?” Elend said, sounding a bit amused. “Because I came looking for you. I thought that they’d arrested you, along with OreSeur—he was pretending to be your uncle, then. I tried to get to the cages to rescue you.” “You did what? Elend, it was a battlefield in that square! There was an Inquisitor there, for the Lord Ruler’s sake!” “I know,” Elend said, smiling faintly. “See, that Inquisitor is the one who tried to kill me. It had its axe raised and everything. And then…Kelsier was there. He smashed into the Inquisitor, throwing it to the ground.” “Probably just a coincidence,” Vin said.

“No,” Elend said softly. “He meant it, Vin. He looked at me while he struggled with the Inquisitor, and I saw it in his eyes. I’ve always wondered about that moment; everyone tells me that Kelsier hated the nobility even more than Dox does.” Vin paused. “He…started to change a little at the end, I think.”

“Change enough that he’d risk himself to protect a random nobleman?” “He knew that I loved you,” Vin said, smiling faintly. “I guess, in the end, that proved stronger than his hatred.” “I didn’t realize…” He trailed off as Vin turned, hearing something. Footsteps approaching. She sat up, and a second later, Ham poked his head into the room. He paused when he saw Vin sitting in Elend’s lap, however.

“Oh,” Ham said. “Sorry.”

“No, wait,” Vin said. Ham poked his head back in, and Vin turned to Elend. “I almost forgot why I came looking for you in the first place. I got a new package from Terion today.” “Another one?” Elend asked. “Vin, when are you going to give this up?” “I can’t afford to,” she said.

“It can’t be all that important, can it?” he asked. “I mean, if everybody’s forgotten what that last metal does, then it must not be very powerful.” “Either that,” Vin said, “or it was so amazingly powerful that the Ministry worked very hard to keep it a secret.” She slid off of the chair to stand up, then took the pouch and thin bar out of her pocket. She handed the bar to Elend, who sat up in his plush chair.

Silvery and reflective, the metal—like the aluminum from which it was made—felt too light to be real. Any Allomancer who accidentally burned aluminum had their other metal reserves stripped away from them, leaving them powerless. Aluminum had been kept secret by the Steel Ministry; Vin had only found out about it on the night when she’d been captured by the Inquisitors, the same night she’d killed the Lord Ruler.

They had never been able to figure out the proper Allomantic alloy of aluminum. Allomantic metals always came in pairs—iron and steel, tin and pewter, copper and bronze, zinc and brass. Aluminum and…something. Something powerful, hopefully. Her atium was gone. She needed an edge.

Elend sighed, handing back the bar. “The last time you tried to burn one of those it left you sick for two days, Vin. I was terrified.” “It can’t kill me,” Vin said. “Kelsier promised that burning a bad alloy would only make me sick.” Elend shook his head. “Even Kelsier was wrong on occasion, Vin. Didn’t you say that he misunderstood how bronze worked?” Vin paused. Elend’s concern was so genuine that she felt herself being persuaded. However… When that army attacks, Elend is going to die. The city’s skaa might survive—no ruler would be foolish enough to slaughter the people of such a productive city. The king, however, would be killed. She couldn’t fight off an entire army, and she could do little to help with preparations.

She did know Allomancy, however. The better she got at it, the better she’d be able to protect the man she loved.

“I have to try it, Elend,” she said quietly. “Clubs says that Straff won’t attack for a few days—he’ll need that long to rest his men from the march and scout the city for attack. That means I can’t wait. If this metal does make me sick, I’ll be better in time to help fight—but only if I try it now.” Elend’s face grew grim, but he did not forbid her. He had learned better than that. Instead, he stood. “Ham, you think this is a good idea?” Ham nodded. He was a warrior; to him, her gamble would make sense. She’d asked him to stay because she’d need someone to carry her back to her bed, should this go wrong.

“All right,” Elend said, turning back to Vin, looking resigned.

Vin climbed into the chair, sat back, then took a pinch of the duralumin dust and swallowed it. She closed her eyes, and felt at her Allomantic reserves. The common eight were all there, well stocked. She didn’t have any atium or gold, nor did she have either of their alloys. Even if she’d had atium, it was too precious to use except in an emergency—and the other three had only marginal usefulness.

A new reserve appeared. Just as one had the four times before. Each time she’d burned an aluminum alloy, she’d immediately felt a blinding headache. You’d think I’d have learned… she thought. Gritting her teeth, she reached inside and burned the new alloy.

Nothing happened.

“Have you tried it yet?” Elend asked apprehensively.

Vin nodded slowly. “No headache. But…I’m not sure if the alloy is doing anything or not.” “But it’s burning?” Ham asked.

Vin nodded. She felt the familiar warmth from within, the tiny fire that told her that a metal was burning. She tried moving about a bit, but couldn’t distinguish any change to her physical self. Finally she just looked up and shrugged.

Ham frowned. “If it didn’t make you sick, then you’ve found the right alloy. Each metal only has one valid alloy.” “Or,” Vin said, “that’s what we’ve always been told.”

Ham nodded. “What alloy was this?”

“Aluminum and copper,” Vin said.

“Interesting,” Ham said. “You don’t feel anything at all?”

Vin shook her head.

“You’ll have to practice some more.”

“Looks like I’m lucky,” Vin said, extinguishing the duralumin. “Terion came up with forty different alloys he thought we could try, once we had enough aluminum. This was only the fifth.” “Forty?” Elend asked incredulously. “I wasn’t aware that there were so many metals you could make an alloy from!” “You don’t have to have two metals to make an alloy,” Vin said absently. “Just one metal and something else. Look at steel—it’s iron and carbon.” “Forty…” Elend repeated. “And you would have tried them all?”

Vin shrugged. “Seemed like a good place to start.”

Elend looked concerned at that thought, but didn’t say anything further. Instead, he turned to Ham. “Anyway, Ham, was there something you wanted to see us about?” “Nothing important,” Ham said. “I just wanted to see if Vin was up for some sparring. That army has me feeling antsy, and I figure Vin could still use some practice with the staff.” Vin shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

“You want to come, El?” Ham asked. “Get in some practice?”

Elend laughed. “And face one of you two? I’ve got my royal dignity to think of!” Vin frowned slightly, looking up at him. “You really should practice more, Elend. You barely know how to hold a sword, and you’re terrible with a dueling cane.” “Now, see, why would I worry about that when I have you to protect me?” Vin’s concern deepened. “We can’t always be around you, Elend. I’d worry a lot less if you were better at defending yourself.” He just smiled and pulled her to her feet. “I’ll get to it eventually, I promise. But, not today—I’ve got too much to think about right now. How about if I just come watch you two? Perhaps I’ll pick up something by observation—which is, by the way, the preferable method of weapons training, since it doesn’t involve me getting beaten up by a girl.” Vin sighed, but didn’t press the point further.

I write this record now, pounding it into a metal slab, because I am afraid. Afraid for myself, yes—I admit to being human. If Alendi does return from the Well of Ascension, I am certain that my death will be one of his first objectives. He is not an evil man, but he is a ruthless one. That is, I think, a product of what he has been through.