KELSIER COULD FEEL ANOTHER ALLOMANCER PULSING in
the mists. The vibrations washed over him like rhythmic waves brushing up against a tranquil shore. They were faint, but unmistakable.
He crouched atop a low garden wall, listening to the vibrations. The curling white mist continued its normal, placid wafting—indifferent, save for the bit closest to his body, which curled in the normal Allomantic current around his limbs.
Kelsier squinted in the night, flaring tin and seeking out the other Allomancer. He thought he saw a figure crouching atop a wall in the distance, but he couldn’t be certain. He recognized the Allomantic vibrations, however. Each metal, when burned, gave off a distinct signal, recognizable to one who was well practiced with bronze. The man in the
distance burned tin, as did the four others Kelsier had sensed hiding around
Keep Tekiel. The five Tineyes formed a perimeter, watching the night, searching for intruders.
Kelsier smiled. The Great Houses were growing nervous. Keeping five Tineyes on watch wouldn’t be that hard for a house like Tekiel, but the noblemen Allomancers would resent being forced into simple guard duty. And if there were five Tineyes on watch, chances were good that a number of Thugs, Coinshots, and Lurchers were on call as well. Luthadel was quietly in a state of alert.
The Great Houses were growing so wary, in fact, that Kelsier had
trouble finding cracks in their defenses. He was only one man, and even Mistborn had limits. His success so far had been achieved through surprise. However, with five Tineyes on watch, Kelsier wouldn’t be able to get very close to the keep without serious risk of being spotted.
Fortunately, Kelsier didn’t need to test Tekiel’s defenses this night.
Instead, he crept along the wall toward the outer grounds. He paused near
the garden well, and—burning bronze to make certain no Allomancers were near—reached into a stand of bushes to retrieve a large sack. It was heavy enough that he had to burn pewter to pull it free and throw it over his shoulder. He paused in the night for a moment, straining for sounds in the mist, then hauled the sack back toward the keep.
He stopped near a large, whitewashed garden veranda that sat beside a small reflecting pool. Then, he heaved the sack off his shoulder and dumped its contents—a freshly killed corpse—onto the ground.
The body—which had belonged to one Lord Charrs Entrone—rolled to a stop with its face in the dirt, twin dagger wounds glistening in its back.
Kelsier had ambushed the half-drunken man on a street just outside of a skaa slum, ridding the world of another nobleman. Lord Entrone, in
particular, would not be missed—he was infamous for his twisted sense of pleasure. Skaa blood-fights, for instance, were a particular enjoyment of his. That was where he had spent this evening.
Entrone had, not coincidentally, been a major political ally of House Tekiel. Kelsier left the corpse sitting in its own blood. The gardeners would locate it first—and once the servants knew about the death, no amount of
noble obstinacy would keep it quiet. The murder would cause an outcry, and immediate blame would probably be placed upon House Izenry, House Tekiel’s rival. However, Entrone’s suspiciously unexpected death might
make House Tekiel wary. If they began poking around, they would find that
Entrone’s gambling opponent at the night’s bloodfight had been Crews Geffenry—a man whose house had been petitioning the Tekiels for a stronger alliance. Crews was a known Mistborn, and a very competent knife-fighter.
And so, the intrigue would begin. Had House Izenry done the murder?
Or, perhaps, had the death been an attempt by House Geffenry to push Tekiel into a higher state of alarm—thereby encouraging them to seek allies among the lesser nobility? Or, was there a third answer—a house that wanted to strengthen the rivalry between Tekiel and Izenry?
Kelsier hopped off the garden wall, scratching at the fake beard he wore. It didn’t really matter whom House Tekiel decided to blame; Kelsier’s real purpose was to make them question and worry, to make them mistrust and misunderstand. Chaos was his strongest ally in fostering a house war.
When that war finally came, each noblemen killed would be one less person that the skaa would have to face in their rebellion.
As soon as Kelsier got a short distance from Keep Tekiel, he flipped a coin and went to the rooftops. Occasionally, he wondered what the people in the houses beneath him thought, hearing footsteps from above. Did they know that Mistborn found their homes a convenient highway, a place where they could move without being bothered by guards or thieves? Or, did the
people attribute the knockings to the ever-blamable mistwraiths?
They probably don’t even notice. Sane people are asleep when the mists come out. He landed on a peaked roof, retrieved his pocket watch from a nook to check the time, then stowed it—and the dangerous metal from which it was made—away again. Many nobility blatantly wore metal, a foolish form of bravado. The habit had been inherited directly from the Lord Ruler. Kelsier, however, didn’t like carrying any metal—watch, ring, or bracelet—on him that he didn’t have to.
He launched himself into the air again, making his way toward the Sootwarrens, a skaa slum on the far northern side of town. Luthadel was an enormous, sprawling city; every few decades or so, new sections were added, the city wall expanded through the sweat and effort of skaa labor.
With the advent of the modern canal era, stone was growing relatively cheap and easy to move.
I wonder why he even bothers with the wall, Kelsier thought, moving along rooftops parallel to the massive structure. Who would attack? The
Lord Ruler controls everything. Not even the western isles resist anymore.
There hadn’t been a true war in the Final Empire for centuries. The occasional “rebellion” consisted of nothing more than a few thousand men hiding in hills or caves, coming out for periodic raids. Even Yeden’s rebellion wouldn’t rely much on force—they were counting on the chaos of a house war, mixed with the strategic misdirection of the Luthadel Garrison, to give them an opening. If it came down to an extended campaign, Kelsier would lose. The Lord Ruler and the Steel Ministry could marshal literally
millions of troops if the need arose.
Of course, there was his other plan. Kelsier didn’t speak of it, he barely even dared consider it. He probably wouldn’t even have an opportunity to implement it. But, if the opportunity did arrive…
He dropped to the ground just outside of the Sootwarrens, then pulled his mistcloak tight and walked along the street with a confident step. His contact sat in the doorway of a closed shop, puffing quietly on a pipe.
Kelsier raised an eyebrow; tobacco was an expensive luxury. Hoid was either very wasteful, or he was just as successful as Dockson implied.
Hoid calmly put away the pipe, then climbed to his feet—though that didn’t make him much taller. The scrawny bald man bowed deeply in the misty night. “Greetings, my lord.”
Kelsier paused in front of the man, arms tucked carefully inside his mistcloak. It wouldn’t do for a street informant to realize that the unidentified “nobleman” he was meeting with had the scars of Hathsin on his arms.
“You come highly recommended,” Kelsier said, mimicking the haughty accent of a nobleman.
“I am one of the best, my lord.”
Anyone who can survive as long as you have must be good, Kelsier thought. Lords didn’t like the idea of other men knowing their secrets. Informants generally didn’t live very long.
“I need to know something, informant,” Kelsier said. “But first you must vow never to speak of this meeting to anyone.”
“Of course, my lord,” Hoid said. He’d likely break the promise before the night was out—another reason informants didn’t tend to live very long. “There is, however, the matter of payment….”
“You’ll have your money, skaa,” Kelsier snapped.
“Of course, my lord,” Hoid said with a quick bob of the head. “You requested information regarding House Renoux, I believe….”
“Yes. What is known about it? Which houses is it aligned with? I must know these things.”
“There isn’t really much to know, my lord,” Hoid said. “Lord Renoux is very new to the area, and he is a careful man. He’s making neither allies nor enemies at the moment—he’s buying a large number of weapons and armor, but is probably just purchasing from a wide variety of houses and merchants, thereby ingratiating himself to them all. A wise tactic. He will, perhaps, have an excess of merchandise, but he will also have an excess of friends, yes?”
Kelsier snorted. “I don’t see why I should pay you for that.”
“He’ll have too much merchandise, my lord,” Hoid said quickly. “You could make a clever profit, knowing that Renoux is shipping at a loss.”
“I’m no merchant, skaa,” Kelsier said. “I don’t care about profits and shipping!” Let him chew on that. Now he thinks I’m of a Great House—of
course, if he hadn’t suspected that because of the mistcloak, then he doesn’t deserve his reputation.
“Of course, my lord,” Hoid said quickly. “There is more, of course….”
Ah, and here we see it. Does the street know that House Renoux is connected to the rumblings of rebellion? If anyone had discovered that secret, then Kelsier’s crew was in serious jeopardy.
Hoid coughed quietly, holding out his hand.
“Insufferable man!” Kelsier snapped, tossing a pouch at Hoid’s feet.
“Yes, my lord,” Hoid said, falling to his knees and searching about with his hand. “I apologize, my lord. My eyesight is weak, you know. I can barely see my own fingers held in front of my face.”
Clever, Kelsier thought as Hoid found the pouch and tucked it away.
The comment about eyesight was, of course, a lie—no man would get far in the underground with such an impediment. However, a nobleman who thought his informant to be half blind would be far less paranoid about being identified. Not that Kelsier himself was worried—he wore one of Dockson’s best disguises. Beside the beard, he had a fake, but realistic, nose, along with platforms in the shoes and makeup to lighten his skin.
“You said there was more?” Kelsier said. “I swear, skaa, if it isn’t good…”
“It is,” Hoid said quickly. “Lord Renoux is considering a union between his niece, the Lady Valette, and Lord Elend Venture.”
Kelsier paused. Wasn’t expecting that… “That’s silly. Venture is far
above Renoux.”
“The two youths were seen speaking—at length—at the Venture ball a month ago.”
Kelsier laughed derisively. “Everyone knows about that. It meant nothing.”
“Did it?” Hoid asked. “Does everyone know that Lord Elend Venture spoke very highly of the girl to his friends, the group of nobleling
philosophers that lounge at the Broken Quill?”
“Young men speak of girls,” Kelsier said. “It means nothing. You will be returning those coins.”
“Wait!” Hoid said, sounding apprehensive for the first time. “There is more. Lord Renoux and Lord Venture have had secret dealings.”
What?
“It is true,” Hoid continued. “This is fresh news—I heard it barely an hour ago myself. There is a connection between Renoux and Venture. And, for some reason, Lord Renoux was able to demand that Elend Venture be assigned to watch over Lady Valette at balls.” He lowered his voice. “It is even whispered that Lord Renoux has some kind of…leverage over House Venture.”
What happened at that ball tonight? Kelsier thought. Out loud, however, he said, “This all sounds very weak, skaa. You have nothing more than idle speculations?”
“Not about House Renoux, my lord,” Hoid said. “I tried, but your worry over this house is meaningless! You should pick a house more central to politics. Like, say, House Elariel…”
Kelsier frowned. By mentioning Elariel, Hoid was implying that he had some important tidbit that would be worth Kelsier’s payment. It seemed that House Renoux’s secrets were safe. It was time to move the discussion along to other houses, so that Hoid wouldn’t get suspicious of Kelsier’s interest in Renoux.
“Very well,” Kelsier said. “But if this isn’t worth my time…” “It is, my lord. Lady Shan Elariel is a Soother.”
“Proof?”
“I felt her touch on my emotions, my lord,” Hoid said. “During a fire at Keep Elariel a week ago, she was there calming the emotions of the
servants.”
Kelsier had started that fire. Unfortunately, it hadn’t spread beyond the guardhouses. “What else?”
“House Elariel has recently given her leave to use her powers more at court functions,” Hoid said. “They fear a house war, and wish her to make whatever allegiances possible. She always carries a thin envelope of shaved brass in her right glove. Get a Seeker close to her at a ball, and you shall see. My lord, I do not lie! My life as an informant depends solely upon my reputation. Shan Elariel is a Soother.”
Kelsier paused, as if musing. The information was useless to him, but his true purpose—finding out about House Renoux—had already been fulfilled. Hoid had earned his coins, whether he realized it or not.
Kelsier smiled. Now to sow a little more chaos.
“What of Shan’s covert relationship with Salmen Tekiel?” Kelsier said, picking the name of a likely young nobleman. “Do you think that she used her powers to gain his favor?”
“Oh, most certainly, my lord,” Hoid said quickly. Kelsier could see the glimmer of excitement in his eyes; he assumed that Kelsier had given him a luscious bit of political gossip free of charge.
“Perhaps she was the one who secured Elariel the deal with House Hasting last week,” Kelsier said musingly. There had been no such deal.
“Most likely, my lord.”
“Very well, skaa,” Kelsier said. “You have earned your coins. Perhaps I shall call upon you another time.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Hoid said, bowing very low.
Kelsier dropped a coin and launched himself into the air. As he landed on a rooftop, he caught a glimpse of Hoid scuttling over to pluck the coin off the ground. Hoid didn’t have any trouble locating it, despite his “weak eyesight.” Kelsier smiled, then kept moving. Hoid hadn’t mentioned Kelsier’s tardiness, but Kelsier’s next appointment would not be so forgiving.
He made his way eastward, toward Ahlstrom Square. He pulled off his mistcloak as he moved, then ripped off his vest, revealing the tattered shirt hidden beneath. He dropped to an alleyway, discarding cloak and vest, then grabbed a double handful of ash from the corner. He rubbed the crusty, dark flakes on his arms, masking his scars, then ground them onto his face and
false beard.
The man who stumbled out of the alleyway seconds later was very different from the nobleman who had met with Hoid. The beard, once neat, now jutted out in an unkempt frazzle. A few, select bits had been removed, making it look patchy and sickly. Kelsier stumbled, pretending to have a
lame leg, and called out to a shadowed figure standing near the square’s quiet fountain.
“My lord?” Kelsier asked in a raspy voice. “My lord, is that you?” Lord Straff Venture, leader of House Venture, was a domineering man,
even for a nobleman. Kelsier could make out a pair of guards standing at his side; the lord himself didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the mists—it was openly known that he was a Tineye. Venture stepped forward firmly, dueling cane tapping the ground beside him.
“You are late, skaa!” he snapped.
“My lord, I…I…I was waiting in the alley, my lord, like we agreed!” “We agreed to no such thing!”
“I’m sorry, my lord,” Kelsier said again, bowing—then stumbling
because of his “lame” leg. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was just in the alley. I didn’t mean to make you wait.”
“Couldn’t you see us, man?”
“I’m sorry, my lord,” Kelsier said. “My eyesight…it isn’t very good, you know. I can barely see my own hands in front of my face.” Thanks for the tip, Hoid.
Venture snorted, handing his dueling cane to a guard, then slapped Kelsier smartly across the face.
Kelsier stumbled to the ground, holding his cheek. “I’m sorry, my lord,” he mumbled again.
“Next time you make me wait, it will be the cane,” Venture said curtly.
Well, I know where to go next time I need a corpse to dump on someone’s lawn, Kelsier thought, stumbling to his feet.
“Now,” Venture said. “Let us get down to business. What is this important news you promised to deliver?”
“It’s about House Erikell, my lord,” Kelsier said. “I know Your Lordship has had dealings with them in the past.”
“And?”
“Well, my lord, they are cheating you dearly. They have been selling their swords and canes to House Tekiel for half the price you’ve been
paying!”
“Proof?”
“You need only look to Tekiel’s new armaments, my lord,” Kelsier said. “My word is true. I have nothing but my reputation! If I have not that, I
have not my life.”
And he wasn’t lying. Or, at least, not completely. It would be useless of Kelsier to spread information that Venture could corroborate or dismiss with ease. Some of what he said was true—Tekiel was giving a slight advantage to Erikell. Kelsier was overstating it, of course. If he played the game well, he could start a rift between Erikell and Venture, while at the same time making Venture jealous of Tekiel. And, if Venture came to Renoux for
weapons instead of Erikell…well, that would just be a side benefit.
Straff Venture snorted. His house was powerful—incredibly powerful— and relied on no specific industry or enterprise to fuel its wealth. That was a very difficult position to achieve in the Final Empire, considering the Lord Ruler’s taxes and atium costs. It also made Venture a powerful tool to Kelsier. If he could give this man the right mixture of truth and fiction…
“This is of little use to me,” Venture said suddenly. “Let’s see how much you really know, informant. Tell me about the Survivor of Hathsin.”
Kelsier froze. “Excuse me, my lord?”
“You want to get paid?” Venture asked. “Well, tell me about the Survivor. Rumors say he’s returned to Luthadel.”
“Rumors only, my lord,” Kelsier said quickly. “I have never met this Survivor, but I doubt he is in Luthadel—if, indeed, he even lives.”
“I’ve heard that he’s gathering a skaa rebellion.”
“There are always fools whispering rebellion to the skaa, my lord,” Kelsier said. “And there are always those who try to use the name of the Survivor, but I do not believe that any man could have lived through the Pits. I could seek more information on this, if you wish, but I worry you will be disappointed in what I find. The Survivor is dead—the Lord Ruler… he does not allow such oversights.”
“True,” Venture said contemplatively. “But the skaa seem convinced about this rumor of an ‘Eleventh Metal.’ Have you heard of it, informant?”
“Ah, yes,” Kelsier said, covering his shock. “A legend, my lord.”
“One I’ve never heard of,” Venture said. “And I pay very close attention to such things. This is no ‘legend.’ Someone very clever is manipulating the skaa.”
“An…interesting conclusion, my lord,” Kelsier said.
“Indeed,” Venture said. “And, assuming the Survivor did die in the Pits, and if someone had gotten ahold of his corpse…his bones…there are ways to imitate a man’s appearance. You know of what I speak?”
“Yes, my lord,” Kelsier said.
“Watch for this,” Venture said. “I don’t care about your gossip—bring me something about this man, or whatever he is, that leads the skaa. Then you’ll get some coin of me.”
Venture spun in the darkness, waving to his men and leaving a thoughtful Kelsier behind.
Kelsier arrived at Mansion Renoux a short time later; the spikeway between Fellise and Luthadel made for quick travel between the cities. He hadn’t placed the spikes himself; he didn’t know who had. He often wondered what he would do if, while traveling the spikeway, he met another Mistborn traveling in the opposite direction.
We’d probably just ignore each other, Kelsier thought as he landed in Mansion Renoux’s courtyard. We’re pretty good at doing that.
He peered through the mists at the lantern-lit mansion, his recovered mistcloak flapping slightly in the calm wind. The empty carriage indicated that Vin and Sazed had returned from House Elariel. Kelsier found them inside, waiting in the sitting room and speaking quietly with Lord Renoux.
“That’s a new look for you,” Vin noted as Kelsier walked into the room.
She still wore her dress—a beautiful red gown—though she sat in an unladylike position, legs tucked beneath her.
Kelsier smiled to himself. A few weeks ago she would have changed out of that gown as soon as she got back. We’ll turn her into a lady yet. He found a seat, picking at the fake, soot-stained beard. “You mean this? I hear beards are going to make a return soon. I’m just trying to stay on the edge of fashionability.”
Vin snorted. “The edge of beggar fashion, maybe.”
“How did the evening go, Kelsier?” Lord Renoux asked.
Kelsier shrugged. “Like most others. Fortunately, it appears that House Renoux remains free of suspicion—though I myself am something of a concern to some of the nobility.”
“You?” Renoux asked.
Kelsier nodded as a servant brought him a warm, damp cloth to clean his face and arms—though Kelsier wasn’t certain if the servants were worried about his comfort or the ash he might get on the furniture. He wiped off his arms, exposing the pale white scratch scars, then began to pick off the beard.
“It seems that the general skaa have gotten wind of the Eleventh Metal,” he continued. “Some of the nobility have heard the building rumors, and the more intelligent ones are growing worried.”
“How does this affect us?” Renoux asked.
Kelsier shrugged. “We’ll spread opposite rumors to make the nobility
focus more on each other and less on me. Though, amusingly, Lord Venture encouraged me to search out information about myself. A man could get very confused from this kind of playacting—I don’t know how you do it,
Renoux.”
“It is who I am,” the kandra said simply.
Kelsier shrugged again, turning to Vin and Sazed. “So, how did your evening go?”
“Frustratingly,” Vin said with a surly tone.
“Mistress Vin is a tad annoyed,” Sazed said. “On the way back from Luthadel, she told me the secrets she’d gathered while dancing.”
Kelsier chuckled. “Not much of interest?”
“Sazed already knew it all!” Vin snapped. “I spent hours twirling and twittering for those men, and it was all worthless!”
“Hardly worthless, Vin,” Kelsier said, pulling off the last bit of false beard. “You made some contacts, you were seen, and you practiced your twittering. As for information—well, nobody’s going to tell you anything important yet. Give it some time.”
“How much time?”
“Now that you’re feeling better, we can have you start attending the balls regularly. After a few months, you should have gathered enough
contacts to begin finding the kind of information we need.”
Vin nodded, sighing. She didn’t seem quite as opposed to the idea of regularly attending balls as she once had, however.
Sazed cleared his throat. “Master Kelsier, I feel that I must mention something. Our table was attended by Lord Elend Venture for most of the evening, though Mistress Vin did find a way to make his attentions less threatening to the court.”
“Yes,” Kelsier said, “so I understand. What did you tell those people, Vin? That Renoux and Venture are friends?”
Vin paled slightly. “How do you know?”
“I’m mysteriously powerful,” Kelsier said with a wave of his hand. “Anyway, everyone thinks that House Renoux and House Venture have had secret business dealings. They probably assume that Venture has been stockpiling weapons.”
Vin frowned. “I didn’t mean it to go that far….”
Kelsier nodded, rubbing the glue from his chin. “That’s the way court is, Vin. Things can get out of hand quickly. However, this isn’t much of a problem—though it does mean that you’re going to have to be very careful when dealing with House Venture, Lord Renoux. We’ll want to see what kind of reaction they have to Vin’s comments.”
Lord Renoux nodded. “Agreed.”
Kelsier yawned. “Now, if there isn’t anything else, playing both nobleman and beggar in one evening has made me dreadfully tired….”
“There is one other thing, Master Kelsier,” Sazed said. “At the end of the evening, Mistress Vin saw Lord Elend Venture leaving the ball with young lords of Houses Lekal and Hasting.”
Kelsier paused, frowning. “That’s an odd combination.” “So I thought,” Sazed said.
“He’s probably just trying to annoy his father,” Kelsier said musingly. “Fraternizing with the enemy in public…”
“Perhaps,” Sazed said. “But the three did seem to be good friends.”
Kelsier nodded, standing. “Investigate this further, Saze. There’s a chance that Lord Venture and his son are playing us all for fools.”
“Yes, Master Kelsier,” Sazed said.
Kelsier left the room, stretching and handing his mistcloak to a servant. As he walked up the eastern stairway, he heard quick footsteps. He turned to find Vin scooting up behind him, shimmering red dress held up as she climbed the steps.
“Kelsier,” she said quietly. “There was something else. Something I’d like to talk about.”
Kelsier raised an eyebrow. Something she doesn’t even want Sazed to hear? “My room,” he said, and she followed him up the stairs and into the chamber.
“What is this about?” he asked as she shut the door behind her.
“Lord Elend,” Vin said, looking down, seeming a bit embarrassed. “Sazed already doesn’t like him, so I didn’t want to mention this in front of the others. But, I found something strange tonight.”
“What?” Kelsier asked curiously, leaning back against his bureau. “Elend had a stack of books with him,” Vin said.
First name, Kelsier thought with disapproval. She is falling for the boy.
“He’s known to read a lot,” Vin continued, “but some of these books… well, when he was gone, I picked through them.”
Good girl. The streets gave you at least a few good instincts.
“One of them drew my attention,” she said. “The title said something about the weather, but the words inside spoke about the Final Empire and its flaws.”
Kelsier raised an eyebrow. “What exactly did it say?”
Vin shrugged. “Something about how since the Lord Ruler is immortal, his empire should be more advanced and peaceful.”
Kelsier smiled. “Book of the False Dawn—any Keeper can quote the entire thing to you. I didn’t think there were any physical copies left. Its
author—Deluse Couvre—went on to write some books that were even more damning. Though he didn’t blaspheme against Allomancy, the obligators
made an exception in his case and strung him up on a hook anyway.” “Well,” Vin said, “Elend has a copy. I think one of the other
noblewomen was trying to find the book. I saw one of her servants rifling through them.”
“Which noblewoman?” “Shan Elariel.”
Kelsier nodded. “Former fiancée. She’s probably searching for something to blackmail the Venture boy with.”
“I think she’s an Allomancer, Kelsier.”
Kelsier nodded distractedly, thinking about the information. “She’s a Soother. She probably had the right idea with those books—if the Venture heir is reading a book like False Dawn, not to mention foolish enough to carry it around with him…”
“Is it that dangerous?” Vin asked.
Kelsier shrugged. “Moderately. It’s an older book, and it didn’t actually encourage rebellion, so it might slide.”
Vin frowned. “The book sounded pretty critical of the Lord Ruler. He allows the nobility to read things like that?”
“He doesn’t really ‘allow’ them to do such things,” Kelsier said. “More, he sometimes ignores it when they do. Banning books is tricky business,
Vin—the more stink the Ministry makes about a text, the more attention it will draw, and the more people will be tempted to read it. False Dawn is a stuffy volume, and by not forbidding it, the Ministry doomed it to obscurity.”
Vin nodded slowly.
“Besides,” Kelsier said, “the Lord Ruler is far more lenient with the nobility than he is with skaa. He sees them as the children of his long-dead friends and allies, the men who supposedly helped him defeat the Deepness. He occasionally lets them get away with things like reading edgy texts or assassinating family members.”
“So…the book is nothing to worry about?” Vin asked.
Kelsier shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that either. If young Elend has False Dawn, he might also have other books that are explicitly forbidden. If
obligators had proof of that, they’d hand young Elend over to the Inquisitors—nobleman or not. The question is, how do we make certain that happens? If the Venture heir were to be executed, it would certainly add to Luthadel’s political turmoil.”
Vin paled visibly.
Yes, Kelsier thought with an internal sigh. She’s definitely falling for him. I should have foreseen this. Sending a young, pretty girl into noble society? One vulture or another was bound to latch on to her.
“I didn’t tell you this so we could get him killed, Kelsier!” she said. “I thought, maybe…well, he’s reading forbidden books, and he seems like a good man. Maybe we can use him as an ally or something.”
Oh, child, Kelsier thought. I hope he doesn’t hurt you too much when he discards you. You should know better than this.
“Don’t count on it,” he said out loud. “Lord Elend might be reading a forbidden book, but that doesn’t make him our friend. There have always been noblemen like him—young philosophers and dreamers who think that their ideas are new. They like to drink with their friends and grumble about the Lord Ruler; but, in their hearts, they’re still noblemen. They’ll never
overthrow the establishment.” “But—”
“No, Vin,” Kelsier said. “You have to trust me. Elend Venture doesn’t care about us or the skaa. He’s a gentleman anarchist because it’s
fashionable and exciting.”
“He talked to me about the skaa,” Vin said. “He wanted to know if they were intelligent, and if they acted like real people.”
“And was his interest compassionate or intellectual?” She paused.
“See,” Kelsier said. “Vin, that man is not our ally—in fact, I distinctly recall telling you to stay away from him. When you spend time with Elend Venture, you put the operation—and your fellow crewmembers—in jeopardy. Understand?”
Vin looked down, nodding.
Kelsier sighed. Why do I suspect that staying away from him is the last thing she intends to do? Bloody hell—I don’t have time to deal with this right now.
“Go get some sleep,” Kelsier said. “We can talk more about this later.”
This dark thing that follows me, the thing that only I can see—It isn’t really a shadow. It’s blackish and translucent, but it doesn’t have a
shadowlike solid outline. It’s insubstantial—wispy and formless. Like it’s made out of a dark fog.
Or mist, perhaps.
