Cursed woman! Vin thought. It seemed that whenever Shan grew bored,
she would seek out Vin and embarrass her for sport.
"However," Shan said, "I am afraid I didn't come to chat. Unpleasant
though it may be, I have business with the Renoux child. Will you excuse
us?"
"Of course, my lady," Milen said, backing away. "Lady Valette, thank you
for your company this evening."
Vin nodded to him and the others, feeling a little like a wounded animal
being abandoned by the herd. She really didn't want to deal with Shan this
evening.
"Lady Shan," Vin said once they were alone. "I think your interest in me is
unfounded. I haven't really been spending much time with Elend lately."
"I know," Shan said. "It appears I overestimated your competence, child.
One would think that once you'd gained favor with a man so much more
important than yourself, you wouldn't have let him slip away so easily."
Shouldn't she be jealous? Vin thought, suppressing a cringe as she felt the
inevitable touch of Shan's Allomancy on her emotions. Shouldn't she hate
me for taking her place?
But, that wasn't the noble way. Vin was nothing—a momentary diversion.
Shan wasn't interested in recapturing Elend's affection; she just wanted a
way to strike back at the man who had slighted her.
"A wise girl would put herself in a position where she could make use of
the only advantage she has," Shan said. "If you think any other important
nobleman will ever pay any attention to you, then you are mistaken. Elend
likes to shock the court—and so, naturally, he chose to do so with the most
homely and lumpish woman he could find. Take this opportunity; you shall
not soon find another."
Vin gritted her teeth against the insults and the Allomancy; Shan had
obviously made an art out of forcing people to take whatever abuse she
sought fit to deliver.
"Now," Shan said, "I require information regarding certain texts Elend has
in his possession. You can read, can't you?"
Vin nodded curtly.
"Good," Shan said. "All you need to do is memorize the titles of his books
—don't look on the outside covers, they can be misleading. Read the first few
pages, then report back to me."
"And if I should instead tell Elend what you're planning?"
Shan laughed. "My dear, you don't know what I'm planning. Besides, you
seem to be making some headway in court. Surely you realize that betraying
me is not something you want to even contemplate."
With that, Shan walked off, immediately gathering a collection of hangers-
on from the surrounding nobility. Shan's Soothing weakened, and Vin felt
her frustration and anger rise. There had been a time when she would have
simply scampered away, ego already too beaten down to be bothered by
Shan's insults. This night, however, she found herself wishing for a way to
strike back.
Calm yourself. This is a good thing. You've become a pawn in Great
House plans—most lesser nobility probably dream of such an opportunity.
She sighed, retreating toward the now empty table she had shared with
Milen. The ball this evening was being held at the marvelous Keep Hasting.
Its tall, round central keep was attended by six auxiliary towers, each set off
from the main building a short distance and connected to it by walltop
walkways. All seven towers were set with winding, curving patterns of
stained glass.
The ballroom was at the top of the wide central tower. Fortunately, a
system of skaa-powered pulley platforms kept noble guests from having to
walk all the way to the top. The ballroom itself wasn't as spectacular as some
Vin had visited—just a squarish chamber with vaulted ceilings and colored
glass running around the perimeter.
Funny, how easily one can become jaded, Vin thought. Perhaps that's how
the noblemen can do such terrible things. They've been killing for so long
that it doesn't unsettle them anymore.
She asked a servant to go fetch Sazed, then sat down to rest her feet. I wish
Kelsier would hurry up and get back, she thought. The crew, Vin included,
seemed less motivated without him around. It wasn't that she didn't want to
work; Kelsier's snappy wit and optimism just helped keep her moving.
Vin looked up idly, and her eyes caught sight of Elend Venture standing
just a short distance away, chatting with a small group of young noblemen.
She froze. Part of her—the Vin part—wanted to scurry away and hide. She'd
fit beneath a table, dress and all.
Oddly, however, she found her Valette side stronger. I have to talk to him,
she thought. Not because of Shan, but because I have to find out the truth.
Dockson was exaggerating. He had to be.
When had she grown so confrontational? Even as she stood, Vin was
amazed at her firm resolve. She crossed the ballroom—checking her black
dress briefly as she walked. One of Elend's companions tapped him on the
shoulder, nodding toward Vin. Elend turned, and the other two men
withdrew.
"Why, Valette," he said as she paused in front of him. "I arrived late. I
didn't even know you were here."
Liar. Of course you knew. Valette wouldn't miss the Hasting Ball. How to
broach it? How to ask? "You've been avoiding me," she said.
"Now, I wouldn't say that. I've just been busy. House issues, you know.
Besides, I warned you that I was rude, and . . ." he trailed off. "Valette? Is
everything all right?"
Vin realized she was sniffling slightly, and she felt a tear on her cheek.
Idiot! she thought, dabbing her eyes with Lestibournes's handkerchief. You'll
ruin your makeup!
"Valette, you're shaking!" Elend said with concern. "Here, let's go to the
balcony and get you some fresh air."
She let him lead her away from the sounds of music and chattering people,
and they stepped into the quiet, dark air. The balcony—one of many jutting
from the top of the central Hasting tower—was empty. A single stone lantern
stood as part of the railing, and some tastefully placed plants lined the
corners.
Mist floated in the air, prevalent as ever, though the balcony was close
enough to the keep's warmth that the mist was weak. Elend didn't pay any
attention to it. He, like most noblemen, considered fear of the mist to be a
foolish skaa superstition—which, Vin supposed, was right.
"Now, what is this about?" Elend asked. "I'll admit, I have been ignoring
you. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve it, I just . . . well, it seemed like you were
fitting in so well that you didn't need a troublemaker like me being—"
"Have you ever slept with a skaa woman?" Vin asked.
Elend paused, taken aback. "Is that what this is all about? Who told you
this?"
"Have you?" Vin demanded.
Elend paused.
Lord Ruler. It's true.
"Sit down," Elend said, fetching her a chair.
"It's true, isn't it?" Vin said, sitting. "You've done it. He was right, you're
all monsters."
"I . . ." He laid a hand on Vin's arm, but she pulled it away, only to feel a
teardrop drip down her face and stain her dress. She reached up, wiping her
eyes, the handkerchief coming back colored with makeup.
"It happened when I was thirteen," Elend said quietly. "My father thought
it was time that I became 'a man.' I didn't even know they were going to kill
the girl afterward, Valette. Honestly, I didn't."
"And after that?" she demanded, growing angry. "How many girls have
you murdered, Elend Venture?"
"None! Never again, Valette. Not after I found out what had happened that
first time."
"You expect me to believe you?"
"I don't know," Elend said. "Look, I know that it's fashionable for the
women of court to label all men brutes, but you have to believe me. We're
not all like that."
"I was told that you are," Vin said.
"By whom? Country nobility? Valette, they don't know us. They're
jealous because we control most of the canal systems—and they might just
have a right to be. Their envy doesn't make us terrible people, however."
"What percentage?" Vin asked. "How many noblemen do these things?"
"Maybe a third," Elend said. "I'm not sure. They aren't the types I spend
my time with."
She wanted to believe him, and that desire should have made her more
skeptical. But, looking into those eyes—eyes she had always found so honest
—she found herself swayed. For the first time she could remember, she
completely pushed aside Reen's whispers, and simply believed.
"A third," she whispered. So many. But, that's better than all of them. She
reached up to dab her eyes, and Elend eyed her handkerchief.
"Who gave you that?" he asked curiously.
"A suitor," Vin said.
"Is he the one who's been telling you these things about me?"
"No, that was another," Vin said. "He . . . said that all noblemen—or,
rather, all Luthadel noblemen—were terrible people. He said that court
women don't even consider it cheating when their men sleep with skaa
whores."
Elend snorted. "Your informant doesn't know women very well, then. I
dare you to find me one lady who isn't bothered when her husband dallies
with another—skaa or noble."
Vin nodded, taking a deep breath, calming herself. She felt ridiculous . . .
but she also felt at peace. Elend knelt beside her chair, still obviously
concerned.
"So," she said, "your father is one of the third?"
Elend flushed in the wan light, looking down. "He likes all kinds of
mistresses—skaa, noble, it doesn't matter to him. I still think about that night,
Valette. I wish . . . I don't know."
"It wasn't your fault, Elend," she said. "You were just a thirteen-year-old
boy who was doing what his father told him."
Elend looked away, but she had already seen the anger and guilt in his
eyes. "Someone needs to stop these kinds of things from happening," he said
quietly, and Vin was struck by the intensity in his voice.
This is a man who cares, she thought. A man like Kelsier, or like Dockson.
A good man. Why can't they see that?
Finally, Elend sighed, standing and pulling over a chair for himself. He sat
down, elbow resting against the railing, running his hand through his messy
hair. "Well," he noted, "you probably aren't the first lady I've made cry at a
ball, but you are the first one I've made cry that I sincerely care about. My
gentlemanly prowess has reached new depths."
Vin smiled. "It's not you," she said, leaning back. "It's just been . . . a very
draining few months. When I found out about these things, I just couldn't
handle it all."
"The corruption in Luthadel needs to be dealt with," Elend said. "The Lord
Ruler doesn't even see it—he doesn't want to."
Vin nodded, then she eyed Elend. "Why exactly have you been avoiding
me lately, anyway?"
Elend flushed again. "I just figured you had enough new friends to keep
you occupied."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"I don't like a lot of the people you've been spending your time with,
Valette," Elend said. "You've managed to fit very well into Luthadel society,
and I generally find that playing politics changes people."
"That's easy to say," Vin snapped. "Especially when you're at the very top
of the political structure. You can afford to ignore politics—some of us aren't
so fortunate."
"I suppose."
"Besides," Vin said, "you play politics just as well as the rest. Or, are you
going to try and tell me that your initial interest in me wasn't sparked by a
desire to spite your father?"
Elend held up his hands. "All right, consider me suitably chastised. I was a
fool and a twit. It runs in the family."
Vin sighed, sitting back and feeling the cool whisper of the mists on her
tear-wetted cheeks. Elend wasn't a monster; she believed him on that count.
Perhaps she was a fool, but Kelsier was having an effect on her. She was
beginning to trust those around her, and there was no one she wanted to let
herself trust more than Elend Venture.
And, when it wasn't connected directly to Elend, she found the horrors of
the noble-skaa relationship easier to deal with. Even if a third of the
noblemen were murdering skaa women, something was probably salvageable
of the society. The nobility wouldn't have to be purged—that was their tactic.
Vin would have to make certain that sort of thing didn't happen, no matter
what bloodline one had.
Lord Ruler, Vin thought. I'm starting to think like the others—it's almost
like I think that we can change things.
She glanced across at Elend, who sat with his back to the curling mists
beyond. He looked morose.
I brought out bad memories, Vin thought guiltily. No wonder he hates his
father so much. She longed to do something to make him feel better.
"Elend," she said, drawing his attention. "They're just like us."
He paused. "What?"
"The plantation skaa," Vin said. "You asked me about them once. I was
afraid, so I acted like a proper noblewoman—but you seemed disappointed
when I didn't have more to say."
He leaned forward. "So, you did spend time with the skaa?"
Vin nodded. "A lot of time. Too much, if you ask my family. That might
be why they sent me out here. I knew some of the skaa very well—one older
man, in particular. He lost someone, a woman he loved, to a nobleman who
wanted a pretty thing for the evening's entertainment."
"At your plantation?"
Vin shook her head quickly. "He ran away and came to my father's lands."
"And you hid him?" Elend asked with surprise. "Runaway skaa are
supposed to be executed!"
"I kept his secret," Vin said. "I didn't know him for very long, but . . .
well, I can promise you this, Elend: His love was as strong as that of any
nobleman. Stronger than most of them here in Luthadel, certainly."
"And intelligence?" Elend asked eagerly. "Did they seem . . . slow?"
"Of course not," Vin snapped. "I should think, Elend Venture, that I knew
several skaa more clever than yourself. They may not have education, but
they're still intelligent. And they're angry."
"Angry?" he asked.
"Some of them," Vin said. "About the way they're treated."
"They know, then? About the disparities between us and them?"
"How could they not?" Vin said, reaching up to wipe her nose with the
handkerchief. She paused, however, noting just how much makeup she had
rubbed across it.
"Here," Elend said, handing her his own handkerchief. "Tell me more.
How do you know these things?"
"They told me," Vin said. "They trusted me. I know that they're angry
because they would complain about their lives. I know they're intelligent
because of the things they keep hidden from the nobility."
"Like what?"
"Like, the underground movement network," Vin said. "Skaa help
runaways travel the canals from plantation to plantation. The noblemen don't
notice because they never pay attention to skaa faces."
"Interesting."
"Plus," Vin said, "there are the thieving crews. I figure that those skaa
must be fairly clever if they're able to hide from the obligators and the
nobility, stealing from the Great Houses right beneath the Lord Ruler's nose."
"Yes, I know," Elend said. "I wish I could meet one of them, to ask them
how they hide so well. They must be fascinating people."
Vin almost spoke further, but she held her tongue. I've probably said too
much already.
Elend looked over at her. "You're fascinating too, Valette. I should have
known better than to assume you'd been corrupted by the rest of them.
Perhaps you'll be able to corrupt them instead."
Vin smiled.
"But," Elend said, rising. "I need to be leaving. I actually came to the party
tonight for a specific purpose—some friends of mine are meeting together."
That's right! Vin thought. One of the men Elend met with before—the ones
that Kelsier and Sazed thought it was strange that he would associate with—
was a Hasting.
Vin stood as well, handing Elend back his handkerchief.
He didn't take it. "You might want to keep that. It wasn't intended to be
simply functional."
Vin looked down at the handkerchief. When a nobleman wants to court a
lady seriously, he gives her a handkerchief.
"Oh!" she said, pulling the handkerchief back. "Thank you."
Elend smiled, stepping close to her. "That other man, whoever he is, might
have a lead on me because of my foolishness. However, I am not so foolish
that I would pass up the chance to give him a little competition." He winked,
bowed slightly, and walked back toward the central ballroom.
Vin waited a moment, then walked forward and slipped through the
balcony doorway. Elend met up with the same two as before—a Lekal and a
Hasting, political enemies of the Venture. They paused for a moment, then all
three walked toward a stairwell at the side of the room.
Those stairwells only lead to one place, Vin thought, slipping back into the
room. The auxiliary towers.
"Mistress Valette?"
Vin jumped, turning to find Sazed approaching. "Are we ready to go?" he
asked.
Vin moved over to him quickly. "Lord Elend Venture just disappeared
down that stairwell with his Hasting and Lekal friends."
"Interesting," Sazed said. "And why would . . . Mistress, what happened to
your makeup!"
"Never mind," Vin said. "I think I should follow them."
"Is that another handkerchief, Mistress?" Sazed asked. "You have been
busy."
"Sazed, are you listening to me?"
"Yes, Mistress. I suppose you could follow them if you wish, but you
would be fairly obvious. I don't know that it would be the best method of
gaining information."
"I wouldn't follow them overtly," Vin said quietly. "I'd use Allomancy.
But, I need your permission for that."
Sazed paused. "I see. How is your side?"
"It's been healed for ages," Vin said. "I don't even notice it anymore."
Sazed sighed. "Very well. Master Kelsier intended to begin your training
in earnest again when he returned, anyway. Just . . . be careful. This is a
ridiculous thing to say to a Mistborn, I think, but I ask anyway."
"I will," Vin said. "I'll meet you on that balcony over there in an hour."
"Good luck, Mistress," Sazed said.
Vin was already rushing back toward the balcony. She stepped around the
corner, then stood before the stone railing and the mists beyond. The
beautiful, swirling void. It's been far too long, she thought, reaching into her
sleeve and pulling out a vial of metals. She downed it eagerly and got out a
small handful of coins.
Then, blissfully, she hopped up onto the railing and threw herself out into
the dark mists.
Tin gave her sight as the wind flapped at her dress. Pewter gave her
strength as she turned her eyes toward the buttresslike wall running between
the tower and the main keep. Steel gave her power as she threw a coin
downward, sending it into the darkness.
She lurched in the air. The air resistance fluttered her dress, and she felt
like she was trying to pull a bale of cloth behind her, but her Allomancy was
strong enough to deal with that. Elend's tower was the next one over; she
needed to get onto the walltop walkway that ran between it and the central
tower. Vin flared steel, Pushing herself up a bit higher, then flung another
coin into the mists behind her. When it hit the wall, she used it to shoot
herself forward.
She slammed into her target wall just a bit too low—folds of cloth
cushioning the blow—but she managed to grab the lip of the walkway above.
An unenhanced Vin would have had trouble pulling herself up onto the wall,
but Vin the Allomancer easily scrambled over the side.
She crouched in her black dress, moving quietly across the walltop
pathway. There were no guards, but the tower ahead of her had a lit
sentrypost at its base.
Can't go that way, she thought, glancing upward instead. The tower
appeared to have several rooms, and a couple of them were lit. Vin dropped a
coin and catapulted herself upward, then Pulled against a window mounting
and yanked herself over to land lightly on the stone window ledge. The
shutters were closed against the night, and she had to lean close, flaring tin, to
hear what was going on inside.
". . . balls always last well into the night. We'll probably have to pull
double duty."
Guards, Vin thought, jumping and Pushing against the top of the window.
It rattled as she shot up the side of the tower. She caught the base of the next
window ledge and pulled herself up.
". . . don't regret my tardiness," a familiar voice said from inside. Elend.
"She happens to be far more attractive than you are, Telden."
A masculine voice laughed. "The mighty Elend Venture, finally captured
by a pretty face."
"She's more than that, Jastes," Elend said. "She's kindhearted—she helped
skaa runaways on her plantation. I think we should bring her in to talk with
us."
"Not a chance," said a deep-voiced man. "Look, Elend, I don't mind if you
want to talk philosophy. Hell, I'll even share a few drinks with you when you
do. But I'm not going to let random people come join us."
"I agree with Telden," Jastes said. "Five people is enough."
"See, now," Elend's voice said. "I don't think you're being fair."
"Elend . . ." another voice said sufferingly.
"All right," Elend said. "Telden, did you read the book I gave you?"
"I tried," Telden said. "It's a bit thick."
"But it's good, right?" Elend said.
"Good enough," Telden said. "I can see why the Lord Ruler hates it so
much."
"Redalevin's works are better," Jastes said. "More concise."
"I don't mean to be contrary," said a fifth voice. "But, is this all we're
going to do? Read?"
"What's wrong with reading?" Elend asked.
"It's a bit boring," the fifth voice said.
Good man, Vin thought.
"Boring?" Elend asked. "Gentlemen, these ideas—these words—they're
everything. These men knew that they'd be executed for their words. Can you
not sense their passion?"
"Passion, yes," the fifth voice said. "Usefulness, no."
"We can change the world," Jastes said. "Two of us are house heirs, the
other three are second heirs."
"Someday, we'll be the ones in charge," Elend said. "If we put these ideas
into effect—fairness, diplomacy, moderation—we can exert pressure even on
the Lord Ruler!"
The fifth voice snorted. "You might be heir to a powerful house, Elend, but
the rest of us aren't as important. Telden and Jastes will probably never
inherit, and Kevoux—no offense—is hardly that influential. We can't change
the world."
"We can change the way our houses work," Elend said. "If the houses
would stop squabbling, we might be able to gain some real power in the
government—rather than just bow to the whims of the Lord Ruler."
"Every year, the nobility grows weaker," Jastes said in agreement. "Our
skaa belong to the Lord Ruler, as does our land. His obligators determine
who we can marry and what we can believe. Our canals, even, are officially
'his' property. Ministry assassins kill men who speak out too openly, or who
are too successful. This is no way to live."
"I agree with you there," Telden said. "Elend's prattling about class
imbalance seems like silliness to me, but I can see the importance of
presenting a unified front before the Lord Ruler."
"Exactly," Elend said. "This is what we have to—"
"Vin!" a voice whispered.
Vin jumped, nearly falling off the window ledge in shock. She glanced
around in alarm.
"Above you," the voice whispered.
She glanced up. Kelsier hung from another window ledge just above. He
smiled, winked, then nodded down toward the wall-walkway below.
Vin glanced back at Elend's room as Kelsier dropped through the mists
beside her. Finally, she pushed herself off and followed Kelsier down, using
her same coin to slow her descent.
"You're back!" she said eagerly as she landed.
"Got back this afternoon."
"What are you doing here?"
"Checking up on our friend in there," Kelsier said. "Doesn't seem like
much has changed since the last time."
"Last time?"
Kelsier nodded. "I've spied on that little group a couple of times since you
told me about them. I shouldn't have bothered—they're not a threat. Just a
bunch of noblelings getting together to drink and debate."
"But, they want to overthrow the Lord Ruler!"
"Hardly," Kelsier said with a snort. "They're just doing what noblemen do
—planning alliances. It's not that unusual for the next generation to start
organizing their house coalitions before they come to power."
"This is different," Vin said.
"Oh?" Kelsier asked with amusement. "You've been a noble so long that
you can tell that already?"
She flushed, and he laughed, putting a friendly arm around her shoulders.
"Oh, don't get like that. They seem like nice enough lads, for noblemen. I
promise not to kill any of them, all right?"
Vin nodded.
"Perhaps we can find a way to use them—they do seem more open-minded
than most. I just don't want you to be disappointed, Vin. They're still
noblemen. Perhaps they can't help what they are, but that doesn't change
their nature."
Just like Dockson, Vin thought. Kelsier assumes the worst about Elend.
But, did she really have any reason to expect otherwise? To fight a battle like
Kelsier and Dockson were, it was probably more effective—and better for the
psyche—to assume that all of their enemies were evil.
"What happened to your makeup, by the way?" Kelsier asked.
"I don't want to talk about it," Vin said, thinking back to her conversation
with Elend. Why did I have to cry? I'm such an idiot! And, the way I blurted
out that question about him sleeping with skaa.
Kelsier shrugged. "Okay, then. We should get going—I doubt young
Venture and his comrades will discuss anything relevant."
Vin paused.
"I've listened to them on three separate occasions, Vin," Kelsier said. "I'll
summarize for you, if you want."
"All right," she said with a sigh. "But I told Sazed I'd meet him back up at
the party."
"Off you go, then," Kelsier said. "I promise not to tell him you were
sneaking around and using Allomancy."
"He told me I could," Vin said defensively.
"He did?"
Vin nodded.
"My mistake," Kelsier said. "You should probably have Saze fetch you a
cloak before you leave the party—you've got ash all over the front of your
dress. I'll meet you back at Clubs's shop—have the carriage drop you and
Sazed off there, then continue on out of the city. That'll keep up
appearances."
Vin nodded again, and Kelsier winked and jumped off the wall into the
mists.
In the end, I must trust in myself. I have seen men who have beaten from themselves the ability to
recognize truth and goodness, and I do not think I am one of them. I can still see the tears in a
young child's eyes and feel pain at his suffering.
If I ever lose this, then I will know that I've passed beyond hope of redemption.
24
KELSIER WAS ALREADY AT THE shop when Vin and Sazed arrived. He sat with
Ham, Clubs, and Spook in the kitchen, enjoying a late-night drink.
"Ham!" Vin said eagerly as she came in the back door. "You're back!"
"Yup," he said happily, raising his cup.
"It seems like you've been gone forever!"
"You're telling me," Ham said, his voice earnest.
Kelsier chuckled, rising to refill his drink. "Ham's a bit tired of playing
general."
"I had to wear a uniform," Ham complained, stretching. He now wore his
customary vest and trousers. "Even plantation skaa don't have to deal with
that kind of torture."
"Try wearing a formal gown sometime," Vin said, seating herself. She'd
brushed off the front of her dress, and it didn't look half as bad as she'd
feared. The blackish gray ash still showed up a bit against the dark fabric, and
the fibers were rough where she'd rubbed against stone, but both were barely
noticeable.
Ham laughed. "It seems that you've turned into a proper young lady while
I was gone."
"Hardly," Vin said as Kelsier handed her a cup of wine. She paused
briefly, then took a sip.
"Mistress Vin is being modest, Master Hammond," Sazed said, taking a
seat. "She's growing quite proficient at courtly arts—better than many actual
nobles that I have known."
Vin flushed, and Ham laughed again. "Humility, Vin? Where'd you ever
learn a bad habit like that?"
"Not from me, certainly," Kelsier said, offering Sazed a cup of wine. The
Terrisman raised his hand in a respectful refusal.
"Of course she didn't get it from you, Kell," Ham said. "Maybe Spook
taught her. He seems to be the only one in this crew who knows how to keep
his mouth shut, eh, kid?"
Spook flushed, obviously trying to avoid looking at Vin.
I'll have to deal with him sometime, she thought. But . . . not tonight.
Kelsier's back and Elend's not a murderer—this is a night to relax.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and a moment later Dockson strolled into
the room. "A party? And no one sent for me?"
"You seemed busy," Kelsier said.
"Besides," Ham added, "we know you're too responsible to sit around and
get drunk with a bunch of miscreants like us."
"Someone has to keep this crew running," Dockson said lightheartedly,
pouring himself a drink. He paused, frowning at Ham. "That vest looks
familiar. . . ."
Ham smiled. "I ripped the arms off of my uniform coat."
"You didn't!" Vin said with a smile.
Ham nodded, looking self-satisfied.
Dockson sighed, continuing to fill his cup. "Ham, those things cost
money."
"Everything costs money," Ham said. "But, what is money? A physical
representation of the abstract concept of effort. Well, wearing that uniform
for so long was a pretty mean effort. I'd say that this vest and I are even
now."
Dockson just rolled his eyes. In the main room, the shop's front door
opened and closed, and Vin heard Breeze bid hello to the apprentice on
watch.
"By the way, Dox," Kelsier said, leaning with his back against a cupboard.
"I'm going to need a few 'physical representations of the concept of effort'
myself. I'd like to rent a small warehouse to conduct some of my informant
meetings."
"That can probably be arranged," Dockson said. "Assuming we keep Vin's
wardrobe budget under control, I—" He broke off, glancing at Vin. "What
did you do to that gown, young lady!"
Vin flushed, scrunching down in her chair. Perhaps it's a bit more
noticeable than I thought. . . .
Kelsier chuckled. "You may have to get used to dirtied clothing, Dox.
Vin's back on Mistborn duty as of this evening."
"Interesting," Breeze said, entering the kitchen. "Might I suggest that she
avoid fighting three Steel Inquisitors at once this time?"
"I'll do my best," Vin said.
Breeze strolled over to the table and chose a seat with his characteristic
decorum. The portly man raised his dueling cane, pointing it at Ham. "I see
that my period of intellectual respite has come to an end."
Ham smiled. "I thought up a couple beastly questions while I was gone,
and I've been saving them just for you, Breeze."
"I'm dying of anticipation," Breeze said. He turned his cane toward
Lestibournes. "Spook, drink."
Spook rushed over and fetched Breeze a cup of wine.
"He's such a fine lad," Breeze noted, accepting the drink. "I barely even
have to nudge him Allomantically. If only the rest of you ruffians were so
accommodating."
Spook frowned. "Niceing the not on the playing without."
"I have no idea what you just said, child," Breeze said. "So I'm simply
going to pretend it was coherent, then move on."
Kelsier rolled his eyes. "Losing the stress on the nip," he said. "Notting
without the needing of care."
"Riding the rile of the rids to the right," Spook said with a nod.
"What are you two babbling about?" Breeze said testily.
"Wasing the was of brightness," Spook said. "Nip the having of wishing of
this."
"Ever wasing the doing of this," Kelsier agreed.
"Ever wasing the wish of having the have," Ham added with a smile.
"Brighting the wish of wasing the not."
Breeze turned to Dockson with exasperation. "I believe our companions
have finally lost their minds, dear friend."
Dockson shrugged. Then, with a perfectly straight face, he said, "Wasing
not of wasing is."
Breeze sat, dumbfounded, and the room burst into laughter. Breeze rolled
his eyes indignantly, shaking his head and muttering about the crew's gross
childishness.
Vin nearly choked on her wine as she laughed. "What did you even say?"
she asked of Dockson as he sat down beside her.
"I'm not sure," he confessed. "It just sounded right."
"I don't think you said anything, Dox," Kelsier said.
"Oh, he said something," Spook said. "It just didn't mean anything."
Kelsier laughed. "That's true pretty much all the time. I've found you can
ignore half of what Dox tells you and not miss much—except for maybe the
occasional complaint that you're spending too much."
"Hey!" Dockson said. "Once again, must I point out that someone has to be
responsible? Honestly, the way you people go through boxings . . ."
Vin smiled. Even Dockson's complaints seemed good-natured. Clubs sat
quietly by the side wall, looking as curmudgeonly as ever, but Vin caught
sight of a slight smile on his lips. Kelsier rose and opened another bottle of
wine, refilling cups as he told the crew about the skaa army's preparations.
Vin felt . . . contented. As she sipped at her wine, she caught sight of the
open doorway leading into the darkened workshop. She imagined, just for a
moment, that she could see a figure out in the shadows—a frightened wisp of
a girl, untrusting, suspicious. The girl's hair was ragged and short, and she
wore a simple, untucked dirty shirt and a pair of brown trousers.
Vin remembered that second night in Clubs's shop, when she had stood out
in the dark workroom, watching the others share late-night conversation. Had
she really been that girl—one who would hide in the cold darkness, watching
the laughter and friendship with a hidden envy, but never daring to join it?
Kelsier made some particularly witty comment, drawing laughter from the
entire room.
You're right, Kelsier, Vin thought with a smile. This is better.
She wasn't like them yet—not completely. Six months couldn't silence
Reen's whispers, and she couldn't see herself ever being as trusting as
Kelsier was. But . . . she could finally understand, at least a little bit, why he
worked the way he did.
"All right," Kelsier said, pulling over a chair and sitting on it the wrong
way. "It looks like the army will be ready on schedule, and Marsh is in place.
We need to get this plan moving. Vin, news from the ball?"
"House Tekiel is vulnerable," she said. "Its allies are scattering, and the
vultures are moving in. Some whisper that debts and lost business will force
the Tekiel to sell off their keep by the end of the month. There's no way they
can afford to continue paying the Lord Ruler's keep tax."
"Which effectively eliminates one entire Great House from the city,"
Dockson said. "Most of the Tekiel nobility—including Mistings and
Mistborn—will have to move to outer plantations to try and recoup losses."
"Nice," Ham noted. Any noble houses they could frighten out of the city
would make seizing it that much easier.
"That still leaves nine Great Houses in the city," Breeze noted.
"But they've started killing each other at night," Kelsier said. "That's only
one step away from open war. I suspect we'll see an exodus start here pretty
soon—anyone who isn't willing to risk assassination to maintain dominance
in Luthadel will leave town for a couple of years."
"The strong houses don't seem very afraid, though," Vin said. "They're
still throwing balls, anyway."
"Oh, they'll keep doing that right up until the end," Kelsier said. "Balls
make great excuses to meet with allies and keep an eye on enemies. House
wars are primarily political, and so they demand political battlefields."
Vin nodded.
"Ham," Kelsier said, "we need to keep an eye on the Luthadel Garrison.
You're still planning to visit your soldier contacts tomorrow?"
Ham nodded. "I can't promise anything, but I should be able to reestablish
some connections. Give me a bit of time, and I'll find out what the military is
up to."
"Good," Kelsier said.
"I'd like to go with him," Vin said.
Kelsier paused. "With Ham?"
Vin nodded. "I haven't trained with a Thug yet. Ham could probably show
me a few things."
"You already know how to burn pewter," Kelsier said. "We've practiced
that."
"I know," Vin said. How could she explain? Ham had practiced with
pewter exclusively—he was bound to be better at it than Kelsier.
"Oh, stop pestering the child," Breeze said. "She's probably just tired of
balls and parties. Let her go be a normal street urchin again for a bit."
"Fine," Kelsier said, rolling his eyes. He poured himself another drink.
"Breeze, how well could your Soothers manage if you were gone for a little
while?"
Breeze shrugged. "I am, of course, the most effective member of the team.
But, I did train the others—they'll recruit effectively without me, especially
now that stories about the Survivor are getting so popular."
"We need to talk about that by the way, Kell," Dockson said, frowning.
"I'm not sure if I like all this mysticism about you and the Eleventh Metal."
"We can discuss it later," Kelsier said.
"Why ask about my men?" Breeze said. "Have you finally grown so
jealous of my impeccable fashion sense that you've decided to have me
disposed of?"
"You might say that," Kelsier said. "I was thinking of sending you to
replace Yeden in a few months."
"Replace Yeden?" Breeze asked with surprise. "You mean for me to lead
the army?"
"Why not?" Kelsier asked. "You're great at giving orders."
"From the background, my dear man," Breeze said. "I don't stand out in
front. Why, I'd be a general. Do you have any idea how ludicrous that
sounds?"
"Just consider it," Kelsier said. "Our recruitment should be mostly done by
then, so you might be most effective if you were to go to the caves and let
Yeden come back to prepare his contacts here."
Breeze frowned. "I suppose."
"Regardless," Kelsier said, rising. "I don't think I've had nearly enough
wine. Spook, be a good lad and run down to the cellar for another bottle, eh?"
The boy nodded, and the conversation turned back to lighter topics. Vin
settled back in her chair, feeling the warmth of the coal stove at the side of
the room, content for the moment to simply enjoy the peace of not having to
worry, fight, or plan.
If only Reen could have known something like this, she thought, idly
fingering her earring. Perhaps then, things would have been different for him.
For us.
Ham and Vin left the next day to visit the Luthadel Garrison.
After so many months of playing a noblewoman, Vin had thought that it
would feel strange to wear street clothing again. Yet, it really didn't. True, it
was a bit different—she didn't have to worry about sitting properly or
walking so that her dress didn't brush against dirty walls or floors. Yet, the
mundane clothing still felt natural to her.
She wore a simple pair of brown trousers and a loose white shirt, tucked in
at the waist, then overlaid by a leather vest. Her still lengthening hair was
pulled up under a cap. Casual passersby might think her a boy, though Ham
didn't seem to think it mattered.
And it really didn't. Vin had grown accustomed to having people study and
evaluate her, but no one on the street even bothered to give her a glance.
Shuffling skaa workers, unconcerned low noblemen, even high-placed skaa
like Clubs—they all ignored her.
I'd almost forgotten what it was like to be invisible, Vin thought.
Fortunately, the old attitudes—looking down when she walked, stepping out
of people's way, slouching to make herself inconspicuous—returned to her
easily. Becoming Vin the street skaa felt as simple as remembering an old,
familiar melody she used to hum.
This really is just another disguise, Vin thought as she walked beside Ham.
My makeup is a light coat of ash, carefully rubbed on my cheeks. My gown is
a pair of trousers, rubbed to make them seem old and well used.
Who, then, was she really? Vin the urchin? Valette the lady? Neither? Did
any of her friends really know her? Did she even really know herself?
"Ah, I've missed this place," Ham said, walking happily beside her. Ham
always seemed happy; she couldn't imagine him dissatisfied, despite what
he'd said about his time leading the army.
"It's kind of strange," he said, turning to Vin. He didn't walk with the
same careful air of despondence that Vin had cultivated; he didn't even seem
to care that he stood out from other skaa. "I probably shouldn't miss this
place—I mean, Luthadel is the dirtiest, most crowded city in the Final
Empire. But, there's also something about it. . . ."
"Is this where your family lives?" Vin asked.
Ham shook his head. "They live in a smaller city outside of town. My wife
is a seamstress there; she tells people I'm in the Luthadel Garrison."
"Don't you miss them?"
"Of course I do," Ham said. "It's hard—I only get to spend a few months
at a time with them—but it's better this way. If I were to get killed on a job,
the Inquisitors would have a tough time tracking my family. I haven't even
told Kell which city they live in."
"You think the Ministry would go to that much trouble?" Vin asked. "I
mean, you'd already be dead."
"I'm a Misting, Vin—that means that all of my descendants will have
some noble blood. My children might turn out to be Allomancers, as might
their children. No, when the Inquisitors kill a Misting, they make certain to
wipe out his children too. The only way to keep my family safe is to stay
away from them."
"You could just not use your Allomancy," Vin said.
Ham shook his head. "I don't know if I could do that."
"Because of the power?"
"No, because of the money," Ham said frankly. "Thugs—or, Pewterarms,
as the nobility prefer to call them—are the most sought-after Mistings. A
competent Thug can stand against a half-dozen regular men, and he can lift
more, endure more, and move faster than any other hired muscle. Those
things mean a lot when you have to keep your crews small. Mix a couple of
Coinshots with five or so Thugs, and you've got yourself a small, mobile
army. Men will pay a lot for protection like that."
Vin nodded. "I can see how the money would be tempting."
"It's more than tempting, Vin. My family doesn't have to live in packed
skaa tenements, nor do they have to worry about starving. My wife only
works to keep up appearances—they have a good life, for skaa. Once I have
enough, we'll move away from the Central Dominance. There are places in
the Final Empire that a lot of people don't know about—places where a man
with enough money can live the life of a nobleman. Places where you can
stop worrying and just live."
"That sounds . . . appealing."
Ham nodded, turning and leading them down a larger thoroughfare toward
the main city gates. "I got the dream from Kell, actually. That's what he
always said he wanted to do. I just hope I have more luck than he did. . . ."
Vin frowned. "Everyone says he was rich. Why didn't he leave?"
"I don't know," Ham said. "There was always another job—each one
bigger than the last. I guess when you're a crewleader like him, the game can
get addicting. Soon, money didn't even seem to matter to him. Eventually, he
heard that the Lord Ruler was storing some incalculable secret in that hidden
sanctum of his. If he and Mare had walked away before that job . . . But, well,
they didn't. I don't know—maybe they wouldn't have been happy living
lives where they didn't have to worry."
The concept seemed to intrigue him, and Vin could see another of his
"questions" working within his mind.
I guess when you're a crewleader like him, the game can get addicting. . . .
Her earlier apprehensions returned. What would happen if Kelsier seized
the imperial throne for himself? He couldn't possibly be as bad as the Lord
Ruler, but . . . she was reading more and more of the logbook. The Lord
Ruler hadn't always been a tyrant. He'd been a good man, once. A good man
whose life had gone wrong.
Kelsier's different, Vin told herself forcefully. He'll do the right thing.
Still, she wondered. Ham might not understand, but Vin could see the
enticement. Despite noble depravity, there was something intoxicating about
high society. Vin was captivated by the beauty, the music, and the dancing.
Her fascination wasn't the same as Kelsier's—she wasn't as interested in
political games or even scams—but she could understand why he would have
been reluctant to leave Luthadel behind.
That reluctance had destroyed the old Kelsier. But, it had produced
something better—a more determined, less self-serving Kelsier. Hopefully.
Of course, his plans before also cost him the woman he loved. Is that why
he hates the nobility so much?
"Ham?" she asked. "Has Kelsier always hated the nobility?"
Ham nodded. "It's worse now, though."
"He frightens me sometimes. It seems like he wants to kill all of them, no
matter who they are."
"I'm concerned about him too," Ham said. "This Eleventh Metal business .
. . it's almost like he's making himself out to be some kind of holy man." He
paused, then he looked toward her. "Don't worry too much. Breeze, Dox, and
I have already talked about this. We're going to confront Kell, see if we can
rein him in a bit. He means well, but he has a tendency to go a little
overboard sometimes."
Vin nodded. Ahead, the customary crowded lines of people waited for
permission to pass through the city gates. She and Ham walked quietly past
the solemn group—workers being sent out to the docks, men off to work one
of the outer mills alongside the river or lake, lesser noblemen wishing to
travel. All had to have a good reason to leave the city; the Lord Ruler strictly
controlled travel inside his realm.
Poor things, Vin thought as she passed a ragged band of children carrying
pails and brushes—probably on duty to climb the wall and scrub mist-grown
lichen off the parapets. Ahead, up near the gates, an official cursed and
shoved a man out of the line. The skaa worker fell hard, but eventually
picked himself back up and shuffled to the end of the line. It was likely that if
he wasn't let out of the city, he wouldn't be able to do his day's work—and
no work meant no food tokens for his family.
Vin followed Ham past the gates, heading down a street parallel to the city
wall, at the end of which Vin could see a large building complex. Vin had
never studied the Garrison headquarters before; most crewmembers tended to
stay a good distance away from it. However, as they approached, she was
impressed by its defensive appearance. Large spikes were mounted on the
wall that ran around the entire complex. The buildings within were bulky and
fortified. Soldiers stood at the gates, eyeing passersby with hostility.
Vin paused. "Ham, how are we going to get in there?"
"Don't worry," he said, stopping beside her. "I'm known to the Garrison.
Besides, it's not as bad as it looks—the Garrison members just put on an
intimidating face. As you can imagine, they aren't very well liked. Most of
the soldiers in there are skaa—men who have, in exchange for a better life,
sold out to the Lord Ruler. Whenever there are skaa riots in a city, the local
garrison is usually hit pretty hard by malcontents. Hence the fortifications."
"So . . . you know these men?"
Ham nodded. "I'm not like Breeze or Kell, Vin—I can't put on faces and
pretend. I'm just who I am. Those soldiers don't know I'm a Misting, but
they know I work in the underground. I've known many of these guys for
years; they've consistently tried to recruit me. They generally have better
luck getting people like me, who are already outside mainstream society, to
join their ranks."
"But, you're going to betray them," Vin said quietly, pulling Ham to the
side of the road.
"Betray?" he asked. "No, it won't be a betrayal. Those men are
mercenaries, Vin. They've been hired to fight, and they'll attack friends—
even relatives—in a riot or rebellion. Soldiers learn to understand these kinds
of things. We may be friends, but when it comes to fighting, none of us
would hesitate to kill the others."
Vin nodded slowly. It seemed . . . harsh. But, that's what life is. Harsh.
That part of Reen's teaching wasn't a lie.
"Poor lads," Ham said, looking at the Garrison. "We could have used men
like them. Before I left for the caves, I managed to recruit the few that I
thought would be receptive. The rest . . . well, they picked their path. Like
me, they're just trying to give their kids a better life—the difference is,
they're willing to work for him in order to do it."
Ham turned back to her. "All right, you wanted some tips on burning
pewter?"
Vin nodded eagerly.
"The soldiers usually let me spar with them," Ham said. "You can watch
me fight—burn bronze to see when I'm using Allomancy. The first, most
important thing you'll learn about Pewterarming is when to use your metal.
I've noticed that young Allomancers tend to always flare their pewter,
thinking that the stronger they are, the better. However, you don't always
want to hit as hard as you can with each blow.
"Strength is a big part of fighting, but it's not the only part. If you always
hit your hardest, you'll tire faster and you'll give your opponent information
about your limitations. A smart man hits his hardest at the end of a battle,
when his opponent is weakest. And, in an extended battle—like a war—the
smart soldier is the one who survives the longest. He'll be the man who paces
himself."
Vin nodded. "But, don't you tire slower when you're using Allomancy?"
"Yes," Ham said. "In fact, a man with enough pewter can keep fighting at
near-peak efficiency for hours. But pewter dragging like that takes practice,
and you'll run out of metals eventually. When you do, the fatigue could kill
you.
"Anyway, what I'm trying to explain is that it's usually best to vary your
pewter burning. If you use more strength than you need, you could knock
yourself off balance. Also, I've seen Thugs who rely on their pewter so much
that they disregard training and practice. Pewter enhances your physical
abilities, but not your innate skill. If you don't know how to use a weapon—
or if you aren't practiced at thinking quickly in a fight—you'll lose no matter
how strong you are.
"I'll have to be extra careful with the Garrison, since I don't want them to
know I'm an Allomancer. You'll be surprised at how often that's important.
Watch how I use pewter. I won't just flare it for strength—if I stumble, I'll
burn it to give me an instant sense of balance. When I dodge, I might burn it
to help me duck out of the way a little faster. There are dozens of little tricks
you can do if you know when to give yourself a boost."
Vin nodded.
"Okay," Ham said. "Let's go, then. I'll tell the garrisoners that you're the
daughter of a relative. You look young enough for your age that they won't
even think twice. Watch me fight, and we'll talk afterward."
Vin nodded again, and the two of them approached the Garrison. Ham
waved to one of the guards. "Hey, Bevidon. I've got the day off. Is Sertes
around?"
"He's here, Ham," Bevidon said. "But I don't know that this is the best day
for sparring. . . ."
Ham raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Bevidon shared a glance with one of the other soldiers. "Go fetch the
captain," he said to the man.
A few moments later, a busy-looking soldier approached from a side
building, waving as soon as he saw Ham. His uniform bore a few extra
stripes of color and a few gold-colored bits of metal on the shoulder.
"Ham," the newcomer said, stepping through the gate.
"Sertes," Ham said with a smile, clasping hands with the man. "Captain
now, eh?"
"Happened last month," Sertes said with a nod. He paused, then eyed Vin.
"She's my niece," Ham said. "Good lass."
Sertes nodded. "Could we speak alone for a moment, Ham?"
Ham shrugged and let himself get pulled to a more secluded place beside
the complex gates. Vin's Allomancy let her make out what they were saying.
What did I ever do without tin?
"Look, Ham," Sertes said. "You won't be able to come spar for a while.
The Garrison is going to be . . . occupied."
"Occupied?" Ham asked. "How?"
"I can't say," Sertes said. "But . . . well, we could really use a soldier like
you right now."
"Fighting?"
"Yeah."
"Must be something serious if it's taking the attention of the entire
Garrison."
Sertes grew quiet for a moment, and then he spoke again in a hushed tone
—so quiet that Vin had to strain to hear. "A rebellion," Sertes whispered,
"right here in the Central Dominance. We just got word. An army of skaa
rebels appeared and attacked the Holstep Garrison to the north."
Vin felt a sudden chill.
"What?" Ham said.
"They must have come from the caves up there," the soldier said. "Last
word was that the Holstep fortifications are holding—but Ham, they're only a
thousand men strong. They need reinforcements desperately, and the koloss
will never get there in time. The Valtroux Garrison sent five thousand
soldiers, but we're not going to leave it to them. This is apparently a very big
force of rebels, and the Lord Ruler gave us permission to go help."
Ham nodded.
"So, what about it?" Sertes asked. "Real fighting, Ham. Real battle pay.
We could really use a man of your skill—I'll make you an officer right off,
give you your own squad."
"I . . . I'll have to think about it," Ham said. He wasn't good at hiding his
emotions, and his surprise sounded suspicious to Vin. Sertes, however, didn't
appear to notice.
"Don't take too long," Sertes said. "We plan to march out in two hours."
"I'll do it," Ham said, sounding stunned. "Let me go drop off my niece and
get some things. I'll be back before you leave."
"Good man," Sertes said, and Vin could see him clap Ham on the shoulder.
Our army is exposed, Vin thought in horror. They're not ready! They were
supposed to take Luthadel quietly, quickly—not face the Garrison straight
out.
Those men are going to get massacred! What happened?
No man dies by my hand or command except that I wish there had been another way. Still, I kill
them. Sometimes, I wish that I weren't such a cursed realist.
25
KELSIER TOSSED ANOTHER WATER JUG into his pack. "Breeze, make a list of all
the hideouts where you and I recruited. Go warn them that the Ministry might
soon have prisoners who could give them away."
Breeze nodded, for once refraining from making any witty remarks.
Behind him, apprentices scrambled through Clubs's shop, gathering and
preparing the supplies that Kelsier had ordered.
"Dox, this shop should be secure unless they capture Yeden. Keep all three
of Clubs's Tineyes on watch. If there's trouble, head for the bolt-lair."
Dockson nodded in acknowledgment as he hurriedly gave orders to the
apprentices. One had already left, bearing a warning to Renoux. Kelsier
thought that the mansion would be safe—only that one group of barges had
left from Fellise, and its men had thought that Renoux wasn't in on the plan.
Renoux wouldn't pull out unless absolutely necessary; his disappearance
would require removing both himself and Valette from their carefully
prepared positions.
Kelsier stuffed a handful of rations into his pack, then swung it onto his
back.
"What about me, Kell?" Ham asked.
"You're going back to the Garrison, like you promised. That was clever
thinking—we need an informant in there."
Ham frowned apprehensively.
"I don't have time to deal with your nerves right now, Ham," Kelsier said.
"You don't have to scam, just be yourself and listen."
"I won't turn against the Garrison if I go with them," he said. "I'll listen,
but I'm not going to attack men who think I'm their ally."
"Fine," Kelsier said curtly. "But I sincerely hope you can find a way not to
kill any of our soldiers, either. Sazed!"
"Yes, Master Kelsier?"
"How much speed do you have stored up?"
Sazed flushed slightly, glancing at the numerous people scurrying around.
"Perhaps two, three hours. It is a very difficult attribute to collect."
"Not long enough," Kelsier said. "I'll go alone. Dox is in charge until I get
back."
Kelsier spun, then paused. Vin stood behind him in the same trousers, cap,
and shirt she had worn to the Garrison. She had a pack like his slung over her
shoulder, and she looked up at him defiantly.
"This is going to be a difficult trip, Vin," he said. "You've never done
anything like this before."
"That's fine."
Kelsier nodded. He pulled his trunk out from beneath the table, then
opened it and poured Vin a small pouch of pewter beads. She accepted it
without comment.
"Swallow five of those beads."
"Five?"
"For now," Kelsier said. "If you need to take some more, call to me so we
can stop running."
"Running?" the girl asked. "We're not taking a canal boat?"
Kelsier frowned. "Why would we need a boat?"
Vin glanced down at the pouch, then grabbed a cup of water and began to
swallow beads.
"Make sure you have enough water in that pack," Kelsier said. "Take as
much as you can carry." He left her, walking over to lay a hand on Dockson's
shoulder. "It's about three hours before sunset. If we push hard, we can be
there by noon tomorrow."
Dockson nodded. "That might be early enough."
Maybe, Kelsier thought. The Valtroux Garrison is only three days' march
from Holstep. Even riding all night, a messenger couldn't have gotten to