VIN SHOT INTO THE AIR. She suppressed a scream, remembering to continue Pushing despite her fear. The stone wall was a blur of motion just a few feet away from her. The ground disappeared below, and the line of

blue pointing toward the ingot grew fainter and fainter.

What happens if it disappears?

She began to slow. The fainter the line grew, the more her speed decreased. After just a few moments of flight, she crept to a halt—and was left hanging in the air above a nearly invisible blue line.

“I’ve always liked the view from up here.”

Vin glanced to the side. Kelsier stood a short distance away; she had been so focused that she hadn’t noticed that she was hovering just a few feet from the top of the wall.

“Help!” she said, continuing to Push desperately, lest she fall. The mists below her shifted and spun, like some dark ocean of damned souls.

“You don’t have to worry too much,” Kelsier said. “It’s easier to

balance in the air if you have a tripod of anchors, but you can do fine with a single anchor. Your body is used to balancing itself. Part of what you’ve been doing since you learned to walk transfers to Allomancy. As long as you stay still, hanging at the very edge of your Pushing ability, you’ll be pretty stable—your mind and body will correct any slight deviations from

the base center of your anchor below, keeping you from falling to the sides. “If you were to Push on something else, or move too much to one side,

though…well, you’d lose your anchor below, and wouldn’t be pushing

directly up anymore. Then you’d have problems—you’d tip over like a lead weight on the top of a very tall pole.”

“Kelsier…” Vin said.

“I hope you aren’t afraid of heights, Vin,” Kelsier said. “That’s quite a disadvantage for a Mistborn.”

“I’m…not…afraid…of…heights,” Vin said through gritted teeth. “But I’m also not accustomed to hanging in the air a hundred feet above the

bloody street!”

Kelsier chuckled, but Vin felt a force tug against her belt, pulling her through the air toward him. He grabbed her and pulled her up over the stone railing, then set her down beside him. He reached an arm over the side of

the wall. A second later, the ingot shot up through the air, scraping along the side of the wall, until it flipped into his waiting hand.

“Good job,” he said. “Now we go back down.” He tossed the ingot over his shoulder, casting it into the dark mists on the other side of the wall.

“We’re really going outside?” Vin asked. “Outside the city walls? At night?”

Kelsier smiled in that infuriating way of his. He walked over and climbed onto the battlements. “Varying the strength with which you Push or Pull is difficult, but possible. It’s better to just fall a bit, then Push to slow yourself. Let go and fall some more, then Push again. If you get the rhythm right, you’ll reach the ground just fine.”

“Kelsier,” Vin said, approaching the wall. “I don’t…”

“You’re at the top of the city wall now, Vin,” he said, stepping out into

the air. He hung, hovering, balanced as he’d explained to her before. “There are only two ways down. Either you jump off, or you try and explain to that guard patrol why a Mistborn needs to use their stairwell.”

Vin turned with concern, noting an approaching bob of lanternlight in the dark mists.

She turned back to Kelsier, but he was gone. She cursed, bending over the side of the wall and looking down into the mists. She could hear the

guards behind her, speaking softly to one another as they walked along the wall.

Kelsier was right: She didn’t have many options. Angry, she climbed up onto the battlement. She wasn’t afraid of heights in particular, but who wouldn’t be apprehensive, standing atop the wall, looking down at her

doom? Vin’s heart fluttered, her stomach twisting.

I hope Kelsier’s out of the way, she thought, checking the blue line to make certain she was above the ingot. Then, she stepped off.

She immediately began to plummet toward the ground. She Pushed reflexively with her steel, but her trajectory was off; she had fallen to the

side of the ingot, not directly toward it. Consequently, her Push nudged her to the side even farther, and she began to tumble through the air.

Alarmed, she Pushed again—harder this time, flaring her steel. The sudden effort launched her back upward. She arced sideways through the air, popping up into the air alongside the walltop. The passing guards spun with surprise, but their faces soon became indistinct as Vin fell back down toward the ground.

Mind muddled by terror, she reflexively reached out and Pulled against the ingot, trying to yank herself toward it. And, of course, it obediently shot up toward her.

I’m dead.

Then her body lurched, pulled upward by the belt. Her descent slowed until she was drifting quietly through the air. Kelsier appeared in the mists, standing on the ground beneath her; he was—of course—smiling.

He let her drop the last few feet, catching her, then setting her upright on the soft earth. She stood quivering for a moment, breathing in terse,

anxious breaths.

“Well, that was fun,” Kelsier said lightly. Vin didn’t respond.

Kelsier sat down on a nearby rock, obviously giving her time to gather her wits. Eventually, she burned pewter, using the sensation of solidness it provided to steady her nerves.

“You did well,” Kelsier said. “I nearly died.”

“Everybody does, their first time,” Kelsier said. “Ironpulling and Steelpushing are dangerous skills. You can impale yourself with a bit of metal that you Pull into your own body, you can jump and leave your anchor too far behind, or you can make a dozen other mistakes.

“My experience—limited though it is—has been that it’s better to get into those extreme circumstances early, when someone can watch over you. Anyway, I assume you can understand why it’s important for an Allomancer to carry as little metal on their body as possible.”

Vin nodded, then paused, reaching up to her ear. “My earring,” she said. “I’ll have to stop wearing it.”

“Does it have a clip on the back?” Kelsier asked.

Vin shook her head. “It’s just a small stud, and the pin on the back bends down.”

“Then you’ll be all right,” Kelsier said. “Metal in your body—even if only a bit of it is in your body—can’t be Pushed or Pulled. Otherwise another Allomancer could rip the metals out of your stomach while you were burning them.”

Good to know, Vin thought.

“It’s also why those Inquisitors can walk around so confidently with a pair of steel spikes sticking out of their heads. The metal pierces their bodies, so it can’t be affected by another Allomancer. Keep the earring—it’s small, so you won’t be able to do much with it, but you could use it as a weapon in an emergency.”

“All right.”

“Now, you ready to go?”

She looked up at the wall, preparing to jump again, then nodded. “We’re not going back up,” Kelsier said. “Come on.”

Vin frowned as Kelsier began to walk out into the mists. So, does he

have a destination after all—or has he just decided to wander some more?

Oddly, his affable nonchalance made him very difficult to read.

Vin hurried to keep up, not wanting to be left alone in the mists. The landscape around Luthadel was barren save for scrub and weeds. Prickles and dried leaves—both dusted with ash from an earlier ashfall—rubbed

against her legs as they walked. The underbrush crunched as they walked, quiet and a bit sodden with mist dew.

Occasionally, they passed heaps of ash that had been carted out of the city. Most of the time, however, ash was thrown into the River Channerel, which passed through the city. Water broke it down eventually—or, at least, that was what Vin assumed. Otherwise the entire continent would have been buried long ago.

Vin stayed close to Kelsier as they walked. Though she had traveled

outside cities before, she had always moved as part of a group of boatmen

—the skaa workers who ran narrowboats and barges up and down the many canal routes in the Final Empire. It had been hard work—most noblemen used skaa instead of horses to pull the boats along the towpath—but there

had been a certain freedom to knowing that she was traveling at all, for most skaa, even skaa thieves, never left their plantation or town.

The constant movement from city to city had been Reen’s choice; he had been obsessive about never getting locked down. He usually got them places on canal boats run by underground crews, never staying in one place

for more than a year. He had kept moving, always going. As if running from something.

They continued to walk. At night, even the barren hills and scrub- covered plains took on a forbidding air. Vin didn’t speak, though she tried to make as little noise as possible. She had heard tales of what went abroad in the land at night, and the cover of the mists—even pierced by tin as it

now was—made her feel as if she were being watched.

The sensation grew more unnerving as they traveled. Soon, she began to hear noises in the darkness. They were muffled and faint—crackles of weeds, shuffles in the echoing mist.

You’re just being paranoid! she told herself as she jumped at some half- imagined sound. Eventually, however, she could stand it no more.

“Kelsier!” she said with an urgent whisper—one that sounded betrayingly loud to her enhanced ears. “I think there’s something out there.”

“Hum?” Kelsier asked. He looked lost in his thoughts. “I think something is following us!”

“Oh,” Kelsier said. “Yes, you’re right. It’s a mistwraith.” Vin stopped dead in her tracks. Kelsier, however, kept going.

“Kelsier!” she said, causing him to pause. “You mean they’re real?” “Of course they are,” Kelsier said. “Where do you think all the stories

came from?”

Vin stood in dumbfounded shock.

“You want to go look at it?” Kelsier asked.

“Look at the mistwraith?” Vin asked. “Are you—” She stopped.

Kelsier chuckled, strolling back to her. “Mistwraiths might be a bit disturbing to look at, but they’re relatively harmless. They’re scavengers, mostly. Come on.”

He began to retrace their footsteps, waving her to follow. Reluctant— but morbidly curious—Vin followed. Kelsier walked at a brisk pace, leading her to the top of a relatively scrub-free hill. He crouched down, motioning for Vin to do likewise.

“Their hearing isn’t very good,” he said as she knelt in the rough, ashen dirt beside him. “But their sense of smell—or, rather, taste—is quite acute.

It’s probably following our trail, hoping that we’ll discard something edible.”

Vin squinted in the darkness. “I can’t see it,” she said, searching the mists for a shadowed figure.

“There,” Kelsier said, pointing toward a squat hill.

Vin frowned, imagining a creature crouching atop the hill, watching her as she looked for it.

Then the hill moved.

Vin jumped slightly. The dark mound—perhaps ten feet tall and twice as long—lurched forward in a strange, shuffling gait, and Vin leaned forward, trying to get a better look.

“Flare your tin,” Kelsier suggested.

Vin nodded, calling upon a burst of extra Allomantic power. Everything immediately became lighter, the mists becoming even less of an obstruction.

What she saw caused her to shiver—fascinated, revolted, and more than a little disturbed. The creature had smoky, translucent skin, and Vin could

see its bones. It had dozens upon dozens of limbs, and each one looked as if it had come from a different animal. There were human hands, bovine hooves, canine haunches, and others she couldn’t identify.

The mismatched limbs let the creature walk—though it was more of a shamble. It crawled along slowly, moving like an awkward centipede. Many of the limbs, in fact, didn’t even look functional—they jutted from the creature’s flesh in a twisted, unnatural fashion.

Its body was bulbous and elongated. It wasn’t just a blob, though…there was a strange logic to its form. It had a distinct skeletal structure, and— squinting through tin-enhanced eyes—she thought she could make out translucent muscles and sinew wrapping the bones. The creature flexed odd jumbles of muscles as it moved, and appeared to have a dozen different ribcages. Along the main body, arms and legs hung at unnerving angles.

And heads—she counted six. Despite the translucent skin, she could make out a horse head sitting beside that of a deer. Another head turned toward her, and she could see its human skull. The head sat atop a long spinal cord attached to some kind of animal torso, which was in turn attached to a jumble of strange bones.

Vin nearly retched. “What…? How…?”

“Mistwraiths have malleable bodies,” Kelsier said. “They can shape their skin around any skeletal structure, and can even re-create muscles and organs if they have a model to mimic.”

“You mean…?”

Kelsier nodded. “When they find a corpse, they envelop it and slowly digest the muscles and organs. Then, they use what they’ve eaten as a pattern, creating an exact duplicate of the dead creature. They rearrange the parts a little bit—excreting the bones they don’t want, while adding the

ones they do want to their body—forming a jumble like what you see out there.”

Vin watched the creature shamble across the field, following her tracks. A flap of slimy skin drooped from its underbelly, trailing along the ground. Tasting for scents, Vin thought. Following the smell of our passing. She let her tin return to normal, and the mistwraith once again became a shadowed mound. The silhouette, however, only seemed to heighten its abnormality.

“Are they intelligent, then?” Vin asked. “If they can split up a…body and put the pieces where they want?”

“Intelligent?” Kelsier asked. “No, not one this young. More instinctual than intelligent.”

Vin shivered again. “Do people know about these things? I mean, other than the legends?”

“What do you mean by ‘people’?” Kelsier asked. “A lot of Allomancers know about them, and I’m sure the Ministry does. Regular people…well, they just don’t go out at night. Most skaa fear and curse mistwraiths, but go their entire lives without actually seeing one.”

“Lucky for them,” Vin muttered. “Why doesn’t someone do something about these things?”

Kelsier shrugged. “They’re not that dangerous.” “That one has a human head!”

“It probably found a corpse,” Kelsier said. “I’ve never heard of a mistwraith attacking a full-grown, healthy adult. That’s probably why

everyone leaves them alone. And, of course, the high nobility have devised their own uses for the creatures.”

Vin looked at him questioningly, but he said no more, rising and walking down the hillside. She shot one more glance at the unnatural creature, then took off, following Kelsier.

“Is that what you brought me out here to see?” Vin asked.

Kelsier chuckled. “Mistwraiths might look eerie, but they’re hardly worth such a long trip. No, we’re heading over there.”

She followed his gesture, and was able to make out a change in the

landscape ahead. “The imperial highroad? We’ve circled around to the front of the city.”

Kelsier nodded. After a short walk—during which Vin glanced backward no less than three times to make certain the mistwraith hadn’t gained on them—they left the scrub and stepped onto the flat, packed earth of the imperial highroad. Kelsier paused, scanning the road in either direction. Vin frowned, wondering what he was doing.

Then she saw the carriage. It was parked by the side of the highroad, and Vin could see that there was a man waiting beside it.

“Ho, Sazed,” Kelsier said, walking forward.

The man bowed. “Master Kelsier,” he said, his smooth voice carrying well in the night air. It had a higher pitch to it, and he spoke with an almost melodic accent. “I almost thought that you had decided not to come.”

“You know me, Saze,” Kelsier said, jovially slapping the man on the shoulder. “I’m the soul of punctuality.” He turned and waved a hand toward Vin. “This apprehensive little creature is Vin.”

“Ah, yes,” Sazed said, speaking in a slow, well-enunciated way. There was something strange about his accent. Vin approached cautiously, studying the man. Sazed had a long, flat face and a willowy body. He was even taller than Kelsier—tall enough to be a bit abnormal—and his arms were unusually long.

“You’re a Terrisman,” Vin said. His earlobes had been stretched out, and the ears themselves contained studs that ran around their perimeter. He

wore the lavish, colorful robes of a Terris steward—the garments were made of embroidered, overlapping V shapes, alternating among the three colors of his master’s house.

“Yes, child,” Sazed said, bowing. “Have you known many of my people?”

“None,” Vin said. “But I know that the high nobility prefer Terrismen stewards and attendants.”

“Indeed they do, child,” Sazed said. He turned to Kelsier. “We should go, Master Kelsier. It is late, and we are still an hour away from Fellise.”

Fellise, Vin thought. So, we’re going to see the impostor Lord Renoux.

Sazed opened the carriage door for them, then closed it after they climbed in. Vin settled on one of the plush seats as she heard Sazed climb atop the vehicle and set the horses in motion.

Kelsier sat quietly in the carriage. The window shades were closed against the mist, and a small lantern, half shielded, hung in the corner. Vin rode on the seat directly across from him—her legs tucked up underneath her, her enveloping mistcloak pulled close, hiding her arms and legs.

She always does that, Kelsier thought. Wherever she is, she tries to be as small and unnoticeable as possible. So tense. Vin didn’t sit, she crouched. She didn’t walk, she prowled. Even when she was sitting in the open, she seemed to be trying to hide.

She’s a brave one, though. During his own training, Kelsier hadn’t been quite so willing to throw himself off of a city wall—old Gemmel had been forced to push him.

Vin watched him with those quiet, dark eyes of hers. When she noticed his attention, she glanced away, huddling down a little more within her cloak. Unexpectedly, however, she spoke.

“Your brother,” she said in her soft near-whisper of a voice. “You two don’t get along very well.”

Kelsier raised an eyebrow. “No. We never have, really. It’s a shame. We should, but we just…don’t.”

“He’s older than you?” Kelsier nodded.

“Did he beat you often?” Vin asked.

Kelsier frowned. “Beat me? No, he didn’t beat me at all.”

“You stopped him, then?” Vin said. “Maybe that’s why he doesn’t like you. How did you escape? Did you run, or were you just stronger than

him?”

“Vin, Marsh never tried to beat me. We argued, true—but we never really wanted to hurt one another.”

Vin didn’t contradict him, but he could see in her eyes that she didn’t believe him.

What a life… Kelsier thought, falling silent. There were so many children like Vin in the underground. Of course, most died before reaching her age. Kelsier had been one of the lucky ones: His mother had been a

resourceful mistress of a high nobleman, a clever woman who had managed to hide the fact that she was skaa from her lord. Kelsier and Marsh had grown up privileged—considered illegitimate, but still noble—until their father had finally discovered the truth.

“Why did you teach me those things?” Vin asked, interrupting his thoughts. “About Allomancy, I mean.”

Kelsier frowned. “I promised you that I would.”

“Now that I know your secrets, what is to keep me from running away from you?”

“Nothing,” Kelsier said.

Once again, her distrusting glare told him that she didn’t believe his answer. “There are metals you didn’t tell me about. Back in our meeting on the first day, you said there were ten.”

Kelsier nodded, leaning forward. “There are. But I didn’t leave the last two out because I wanted to keep things from you. They’re just…difficult to get used to. It will be easier if you practice with the basic metals first.

However, if you want to know about the last two, I can teach you once we arrive in Fellise.”

Vin’s eyes narrowed.

Kelsier rolled his eyes. “I’m not trying to trick you, Vin. People serve on my crews because they want to, and I’m effective because they can rely on one another. No distrust, no betrayals.”

“Except one,” Vin whispered. “The betrayal that sent you to the Pits.” Kelsier froze. “Where did you hear that?”

Vin shrugged.

Kelsier sighed, rubbing his forehead with one hand. That wasn’t what he wanted to do—he wanted to scratch his scars, the ones that ran all along his fingers and hands, twisting up his arms toward his shoulders. He resisted.

“That isn’t something worth talking about,” he said. “But there was a traitor,” Vin said.

“We don’t know for certain.” That sounded weak, even to him. “Regardless, my crews rely on trust. That means no coercions. If you want out, we can go back to Luthadel right now. I’ll show you the last two metals, then you can be on your way.”

“I don’t have enough money to survive on my own,” Vin said.

Kelsier reached inside of his cloak and pulled out a bag of coins, then tossed it onto the seat beside her. “Three thousand boxings. The money I took from Camon.”

Vin glanced at the bag distrustfully.

“Take it,” Kelsier said. “You’re the one who earned it—from what I’ve been able to gather, your Allomancy was behind most of Camon’s recent successes, and you were the one who risked Pushing the emotions of a obligator.”

Vin didn’t move.

Fine, Kelsier thought, reaching up and knocking on the underside of the coachman’s chair. The carriage stopped, and Sazed soon appeared at his

window.

“Turn the carriage around please, Saze,” Kelsier said. “Take us back to Luthadel.”

“Yes, Master Kelsier.”

Within moments, the carriage was rolling back in the direction it had come. Vin watched in silence, but she seemed a little less certain of herself. She eyed the bag of coins.

“I’m serious, Vin,” Kelsier said. “I can’t have someone on my team who doesn’t want to work with me. Turning you away isn’t a punishment; it’s just the way things must be.”

Vin didn’t respond. Letting her go would be a gamble—but forcing her to stay would be a bigger one. Kelsier sat, trying to read her, trying to understand her. Would she betray them to the Final Empire if she left? He thought not. She wasn’t a bad person.

She just thought that everybody else was.

“I think your plan is crazy,” she said quietly. “So do half the people on the crew.”

“You can’t defeat the Final Empire.”

“We don’t have to,” Kelsier said. “We just have to get Yeden an army, then seize the palace.”

“The Lord Ruler will stop you,” Vin said. “You can’t beat him—he’s immortal.”

“We have the Eleventh Metal,” Kelsier said. “We’ll find a way to kill him.”

“The Ministry is too powerful. They’ll find your army and destroy it.”

Kelsier leaned forward, looking Vin in the eye. “You trusted me enough to jump off the top of the wall, and I caught you. You’re going to have to trust me this time too.”

She obviously didn’t like the word “trust” very much. She studied him in the weak lanternlight, remaining quiet long enough that the silence grew uncomfortable.

Finally, she snatched the bag of coins, quickly hiding it beneath her cloak. “I’ll stay,” she said. “But not because I trust you.”

Kelsier raised an eyebrow. “Why, then?”

Vin shrugged, and she sounded perfectly honest when she spoke. “Because I want to see what happens.”

Having a keep in Luthadel qualified a house for high noble status. However, having a keep didn’t mean that one had to live in it, especially not all of the time. Many families also maintained a residence in one of Luthadel’s outskirt cities.

Less crowded, cleaner, and less strict in its observance of imperial laws, Fellise was a rich town. Rather than containing imposing, buttressed keeps, it was filled with lavish manors and villas. Trees even lined some of the streets; most of them were aspens, whose bone-white bark was somehow resistant to the discoloring of the ash.

Vin watched the mist-cloaked city through her window, the carriage lantern extinguished at her request. Burning tin, she was able to study the neatly organized and well-groomed streets. This was a section of Fellise she had rarely seen; despite the town’s opulence, its slums were remarkably similar to the ones in every other city.

Kelsier watched the city through his own window, frowning.

“You disapprove of the waste,” Vin guessed, her voice a whisper. The sound would carry to Kelsier’s enhanced ears. “You see the riches of this city and think of the skaa who worked to create it.”

“That’s part of it,” Kelsier said, his own voice barely a whisper. “There’s more, though. Considering the amount of money spent on it, this city should be beautiful.”

Vin cocked her head. “It is.”

Kelsier shook his head. “The homes are still stained black. The soil is still arid and lifeless. The trees still grow leaves of brown.”

“Of course they’re brown. What else would they be?” “Green,” Kelsier said. “Everything should be green.”

Green? Vin thought. What a strange thought. She tried to imagine trees with green leaves, but the image seemed silly. Kelsier certainly had his quirks—though, anyone who had spent so long at the Pits of Hathsin was bound to be left a bit strange.

He turned back toward her. “Before I forget, there are a couple more things you should know about Allomancy.”

Vin nodded.

“First,” Kelsier said, “remember to burn away any unused metals you

have inside of you at the end of the night. Some of the metals we use can be poisonous if digested; it’s best not to sleep with them in your stomach.”

“All right,” Vin said.

“Also,” Kelsier said, “never try to burn a metal that isn’t one of the ten. I warned you that impure metals and alloys can make you sick. Well, if you try to burn a metal that isn’t Allomantically sound at all, it could be deadly.”

Vin nodded solemnly. Good to know, she thought.

“Ah,” Kelsier said, turning back toward the window. “Here we are: the newly purchased Manor Renoux. You should probably take off your cloak

—the people here are loyal to us, but it always pays to be careful.”

Vin agreed completely. She pulled off the cloak, letting Kelsier tuck it in his pack. Then she peeked out the carriage window, peering through the mists at the approaching manor. The grounds had a low stone wall and an iron gate; a pair of guards opened the way as Sazed identified himself.

The roadway inside was lined with aspens, and atop the hill ahead Vin could see a large manor house, phantom light spilling from its windows.

Sazed pulled the carriage up before the manor, then handed the reins to a servant and climbed down. “Welcome to Manor Renoux, Mistress Vin,” he said, opening the door and gesturing to help her down.

Vin eyed his hand, but didn’t take it, instead scrambling down on her own. The Terrisman didn’t seem offended by her refusal.

The steps to the manor house were lit by a double line of lantern poles.

As Kelsier hopped from the carriage, Vin could see a group of men gathering at the top of the white marble stairs. Kelsier climbed the steps with a springy stride; Vin followed behind, noticing how clean the steps were. They would have to be scrubbed regularly to keep the ash from staining them. Did the skaa who maintained the building know that their

master was an imposter? How was Kelsier’s “benevolent” plan to

overthrow the Final Empire helping the common people who cleaned these steps?

Thin and aging, “Lord Renoux” wore a rich suit and a pair of

aristocratic spectacles. A sparse, gray mustache colored his lip, and—

despite his age—he didn’t carry a cane for support. He nodded respectfully to Kelsier, but maintained a dignified air. Immediately, Vin was struck by one obvious fact: This man knows what he is doing.

Camon had been skilled at impersonating noblemen, but his self- importance had always struck Vin as a bit juvenile. While there were noblemen like Camon, the more impressive ones were like this Lord

Renoux: calm, and self-confident. Men whose nobility was in their bearing rather than their ability to speak scornfully to those around them. Vin had to resist cringing when the impostor’s eyes fell on her—he seemed far too much a nobleman, and she had been trained to reflexively avoid their attention.

“The manor is looking much better,” Kelsier said, shaking hands with Renoux.

“Yes, I’m impressed with its progress,” Renoux said. “My cleaning

crews are quite proficient—give us a bit more time, and the manor will be so grand that I wouldn’t hesitate to host the Lord Ruler himself.”

Kelsier chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be an odd dinner party.” He stepped back, gesturing toward Vin. “This is the young lady I spoke of.”

Renoux studied her, and Vin glanced away. She didn’t like it when

people looked at her that way—it made her wonder how they were going to try and use her.

“We will need to speak further of this, Kelsier,” Renoux said, nodding toward the mansion’s entrance. “The hour is late, but…”

Kelsier stepped into the building. “Late? Why, it’s barely midnight. Have your people prepare some food—Lady Vin and I missed dinner.”

A missed meal was nothing new to Vin. However, Renoux immediately waved to some servants, and they leapt into motion. Renoux walked into

the building, and Vin followed. She paused in the entryway, however, Sazed waiting patiently behind her.

Kelsier paused, turning when he noticed that she wasn’t following. “Vin?”

“It’s so…clean,” Vin said, unable to think of any other description. On jobs, she’d occasionally seen the homes of noblemen. However, those times had happened at night, in dark gloom. She was unprepared for the well-lit sight before her.

The white marble floors of Manor Renoux seemed to glow, reflecting the light of a dozen lanterns. Everything was…pristine. The walls were white except where they had been wash-painted with traditional animal murals. A brilliant chandelier sparkled above a double staircase, and the room’s other decorations—crystal sculptures, vases set with bundles of aspen branches—glistened, unmarred by soot, smudge, or fingerprint.

Kelsier chuckled. “Well, her reaction speaks highly of your efforts,” he said to Lord Renoux.

Vin allowed herself to be led into the building. The group turned right, entering a room whose whites were muted slightly by the addition of maroon furnishings and drapes.

Renoux paused. “Perhaps the lady could enjoy some refreshment here for a moment,” he said to Kelsier. “There are some matters of a…delicate nature that I would discuss with you.”

Kelsier shrugged. “Fine with me,” he said, following Renoux toward another doorway. “Saze, why don’t you keep Vin company while Lord Renoux and I talk?”

“Of course, Master Kelsier.”

Kelsier smiled, eyeing Vin, and somehow she knew that he was leaving Sazed behind to keep her from eavesdropping.

She shot the departing men an annoyed look. What was that you said about “trust,” Kelsier? However, she was even more annoyed at herself for getting unsettled. Why should she care if Kelsier excluded her? She had spent her entire life being ignored and dismissed. It had never bothered her before when other crewleaders left her out of their planning sessions.

Vin took a seat in one of the stiffly upholstered maroon chairs, tucking her feet up beneath her. She knew what the problem was. Kelsier had been showing her too much respect, making her feel too important. She was beginning to think that she deserved to be part of his secret confidences.

Reen’s laughter in the back of her mind discredited those thoughts, and she sat, annoyed at both herself and Kelsier, feeling ashamed, but not exactly certain why.

Renoux’s servants brought her a platter of fruits and breads. They set up a small stand beside her chair, and even gave her a crystalline cup filled with a glistening red liquid. She couldn’t tell if it was wine or juice, and she didn’t intend to find out. She did, however, pick at the food—her instincts wouldn’t let her pass up a free meal, even if it was prepared by unfamiliar hands.

Sazed walked over and took a position standing just behind her chair to the right. He waited with a stiff posture, hands clasped in front of him, eyes forward. The stance was obviously intended to be respectful, but his looming posture didn’t help her mood any.

Vin tried to focus on her surroundings, but this only reminded her of how rich the furnishings were. She was uncomfortable amid such finery; she felt as if she stood out like a black spot on a clean rug. She didn’t eat

the breads for fear that she would drop crumbs on the floor, and she worried at her feet and legs—which had been stained with ash while walking through the countryside—marring the furnishings.

All of this cleanliness came at some skaa’s expense, Vin thought. Why should I worry about disturbing it? However, she had trouble feeling outraged, for she knew this was only a front. “Lord Renoux” had to maintain a certain level of finery. It would be suspicious to do otherwise.

In addition, something else kept her from resenting the waste. The servants were happy. They went about their duties with a businesslike professionalism, no sense of drudgery about their efforts. She heard

laughter in the outer hallway. These were not mistreated skaa; whether they had been included in Kelsier’s plans or not was irrelevant.

So, Vin sat and forced herself to eat fruit, yawning occasionally. It was turning out to be a long night indeed. The servants eventually left her alone, though Sazed continued to loom just behind her.

I can’t eat like this, she finally thought with frustration. “Could you not stand over my shoulder like that?”

Sazed nodded. He took two steps forward so that he stood next to her chair, rather than behind it. He adopted the same stiff posture, looming

above her just as he had before.

Vin frowned in annoyance, then noticed the smile on Sazed’s lips. He glanced down at her, eyes twinkling at his joke, then walked over and seated himself in the chair beside hers.

“I’ve never known a Terrisman with a sense of humor before,” Vin said dryly.

Sazed raised an eyebrow. “I was under the impression that you hadn’t known any Terrismen at all, Mistress Vin.”

Vin paused. “Well, I’ve never heard of one with a sense of humor.

You’re supposed to be completely rigid and formal.”

“We’re just subtle, Mistress,” Sazed said. Though he sat with a stiff posture, there was still something…relaxed about him. It was as if he were as comfortable when sitting properly as other people were when lounging.

That’s how they’re supposed to be. The perfect serving men, completely loyal to the Final Empire.

“Is something troubling you, Mistress Vin?” Sazed asked as she studied him.

How much does he know? Perhaps he doesn’t even realize that Renoux is an imposter. “I was just wondering how you…came here,” she finally said.

“You mean, how did a Terrisman steward end up as part of a rebellion intending to overthrow the Final Empire?” Sazed asked in his soft voice.

Vin flushed. Apparently he was well versed indeed.

“That is an intriguing question, Mistress,” Sazed said. “Certainly, my situation is not common. I would say that I arrived at it because of belief.”

“Belief?”

“Yes,” Sazed said. “Tell me, Mistress. What is it that you believe?” Vin frowned. “What kind of question is that?”

“The most important kind, I think.”

Vin sat for a moment, but he obviously expected a reply, so she finally shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“People often say that,” Sazed said, “but I find that it is rarely true. Do you believe in the Final Empire?”

“I believe that it is strong,” Vin said. “Immortal?”

Vin shrugged. “It has been so far.”

“And the Lord Ruler? Is he the Ascended Avatar of God? Do you believe that he, as the Ministry teaches, is a Sliver of Infinity?”

“I…I’ve never thought about it before.”

“Perhaps you should,” Sazed said. “If, upon examination, you find that the Ministry’s teachings do not suit you, then I would be pleased to offer

you an alternative.” “What alternative?”

Sazed smiled. “That depends. The right belief is like a good cloak, I think. If it fits you well, it keeps you warm and safe. The wrong fit, however, can suffocate.”

Vin paused, frowning slightly, but Sazed just smiled. Eventually, she turned her attention back to her meal. After a short wait, the side door opened, and Kelsier and Renoux returned.

“Now,” Renoux said as he and Kelsier seated themselves, a group of

servants bringing another plate of food for Kelsier, “let us discuss this child. The man you were going to have play my heir will not do, you say?”

“Unfortunately,” Kelsier said, making quick work of his food. “That complicates things greatly,” Renoux said.

Kelsier shrugged. “We’ll just have Vin be your heir.”

Renoux shook his head. “A girl her age could inherit, but it would be suspicious for me to pick her. There are any number of legitimate male

cousins in the Renoux line who would be far more suitable choices. It was going to be difficult enough to get a middle-aged man past courtly scrutiny. A young girl…no, too many people would investigate her background. Our forged family lines will survive passing scrutiny, but if someone were to actually send messengers to search out her holdings…”

Kelsier frowned.

“Besides,” Renoux added. “There is another issue. If I were to name a young, unmarried girl as my heir, hers would instantly become one of the most sought-after hands in Luthadel. It would be very difficult for her to spy if she were to receive that much attention.”

Vin flushed at the thought. Surprisingly, she found her heart sinking as the old imposter spoke. This was the only part Kelsier gave me in the plan. If I can’t do it, what good am I to the crew?

“So, what do you suggest?” Kelsier asked.

“Well, she doesn’t have to be my heir,” Renoux said. “What if, instead, she were simply a young scion I brought with me to Luthadel? Perhaps I promised her parents—distant but favored cousins—that I would introduce their daughter to the court? Everyone would assume that my ulterior motive is to marry her off to a high noble family, thereby gaining myself another connection to those in power. However, she wouldn’t draw much attention

—she would be of low status, not to mention somewhat rural.”

“Which would explain why she’s a bit less refined than other court members,” Kelsier said. “No offense, Vin.”

Vin looked up from hiding a piece of napkin-wrapped bread in her shirt pocket. “Why would I be offended?”

Kelsier smiled. “Never mind.”

Renoux nodded to himself. “Yes, this will work much better. Everyone assumes that House Renoux will eventually join the high nobility, so they’ll accept Vin into their ranks out of courtesy. However, she herself will be unimportant enough that most people will ignore her. That is the ideal situation for what we will want her to do.”

“I like it,” Kelsier said. “Few people expect a man of your age and

mercantile concerns to bother himself with balls and parties, but having a young socialite to send instead of a rejection note will serve as an advantage to your reputation.”

“Indeed,” Renoux said. “She’ll need some refinement, however—and not just in appearance.”

Vin squirmed a bit beneath their scrutiny. It looked as if her part in the plan would go forward, and she suddenly realized what that meant. Being around Renoux made her uncomfortable—and he was a fake nobleman.

How would she react to an entire room full of real ones?

“I’m afraid I’ll have to borrow Sazed from you for a while,” Kelsier said.

“Quite all right,” Renoux said. “He’s really not my steward, but yours.” “Actually,” Kelsier said, “I don’t think he’s anybody’s steward anymore,

eh Saze?”

Sazed cocked his head. “A Terrisman without a master is like a soldier with no weapon, Master Kelsier. I have enjoyed my time attending to Lord Renoux, as I am certain that I shall enjoy returning to your service.”

“Oh, you won’t be returning to my service,” Kelsier said. Sazed raised an eyebrow.

Kelsier nodded toward Vin. “Renoux is right, Saze. Vin needs some coaching, and I know plenty of high noblemen who are less refined than yourself. Do you think you could help the girl prepare?”

“I am certain that I could offer the young lady some aid,” Sazed said. “Good,” Kelsier said, popping one last cake in his mouth, then rising.

“I’m glad that’s settled, because I’m starting to feel tired—and poor Vin looks like she’s about to nod off in the middle of her fruit plate.”

“I’m fine,” Vin said immediately, the assertion weakened slightly by a stifled yawn.

“Sazed,” Renoux said, “would you show them to the appropriate guest chambers?”

“Of course, Master Renoux,” Sazed said, rising from his seat in a smooth motion.

Vin and Kelsier trailed the tall Terrisman from the room as a group of

servants took away the remnants of the meal. I left food behind, Vin noticed, feeling a bit drowsy. She wasn’t certain what to think of the occurrence.

As they crested the stairs and turned into a side hallway, Kelsier fell into place beside Vin. “I’m sorry for excluding you back there, Vin.”

She shrugged. “There’s no reason for me to know all of your plans.”

“Nonsense,” Kelsier said. “Your decision tonight makes you as much a part of this team as anyone else. Renoux’s words in private, however, were of a personal nature. He is a marvelous actor, but he feels very

uncomfortable with people knowing the specifics of how he took Lord Renoux’s place. I promise you, nothing we discussed has any bearing on your part in the plan.”

Vin continued walking. “I…believe you.”

“Good,” Kelsier said with a smile, clapping her on the shoulder. “Saze, I know my way to the men’s guest quarters—I was, after all, the one who bought this place. I can make my way from here.”

“Very well, Master Kelsier,” Sazed said with a respectful nod. Kelsier shot Vin a smile, then turned down a hallway, walking with his characteristically lively step.

Vin watched him go, then followed Sazed down a different side passage, pondering the Allomancy training, her discussion with Kelsier in the carriage, and finally Kelsier’s promise just a few moments before. The three thousand boxings—a fortune in coins—was a strange weight tied to her belt.

Eventually, Sazed opened a particular door for her, walking in to light the lanterns. “The linens are fresh, and I will send maids to prepare you a bath in the morning.” He turned, handing her his candle. “Will you require anything else?”

Vin shook her head. Sazed smiled, bid her good evening, then walked back out in the hallway. Vin stood quietly for a short moment, studying the

room. Then she turned, glancing once again in the direction Kelsier had gone.

“Sazed?” she said, peeking back out into the hallway.

The steward paused, turning back. “Yes, Mistress Vin?” “Kelsier,” Vin said quietly. “He’s a good man, isn’t he?”

Sazed smiled. “A very good man, Mistress. One of the best I’ve known.”

Vin nodded slightly. “A good man…” she said softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever known one of those before.”

Sazed smiled, then bowed his head respectfully and turned to leave. Vin let the door swing shut.