Mistborn: The Final Empire (Mistborn, #1)

If such a place exists . . . Vin was beginning to understand that it wasn’t just Luthadel and its Soothing stations that made skaa subservient. It was everything—the obligators, the constant work in field and mill, the mind-set encouraged by a thousand years of oppression. There was a reason why skaa rebellions were always so small. The people knew—or thought they knew—that there was no fighting against the Final Empire.

Even Vin—who’d assumed herself a “liberated” thief—had believed the same. It had taken Kelsier’s insane, over-the-top plan to convince her otherwise. Perhaps that was why he’d set such lofty goals for the crew—he’d known that only something this challenging would make them realize, in a strange way, that they could resist.

Spook glanced at her. Her presence still made him uncomfortable.

“Spook,” Vin said, “you know that Elend broke off his relationship with me.”

Spook nodded, perking up slightly.

“But,” Vin said regretfully, “I still love him. I’m sorry, Spook. But it’s true.”

He looked down, deflating.

“It’s not you,” Vin said. “Really, it isn’t. It’s just that . . . well, you can’t help who you love. Trust me, there are some people I really would rather not have loved. They didn’t deserve it.”

Spook nodded. “I understand.”

“Can I still keep the handkerchief?”

He shrugged.

“Thank you,” she said. “It does mean a lot to me.”

He looked up, staring out into the mists. “I’m notting a fool. I . . . knew it wasing not to happen. I see things, Vin. I see lots of things.”

She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. I see things. . . . An appropriate statement, for a Tineye like him.

“You’ve been an Allomancer for a long time?” she asked.

Spook nodded. “Wasing the Snap when I was five. Barely even remember it.”

“And since then you’ve been practicing with tin?”

“Mostly,” he said. “Wasing a good thing for me. Letting me see, letting me hear, letting me feel.”

“Any tips you can pass on?” Vin asked hopefully.

He paused thoughtfully, sitting by the edge of the slanted rooftop, one foot dangling over the side. “Tin burning . . . Notting about the seeing. Wasing about the not seeing.”

Vin frowned. “What do you mean?”

“When burning,” he said, “everything comes. Lots of everything. Distractions here, there. Iffing the power of wants, ignoring the distractions of both.”

If you want to be good at burning tin, she thought, translating as best she could, learn to deal with distraction. It isn’t about what you see—it’s about what you can ignore.

“Interesting,” Vin said thoughtfully.

Spook nodded. “When looking, seeing the mist and seeing the houses and feeling the wood and hearing the rats below. Choose one, and don’t get distracted.”

“Good advice,” Vin said.

Spook nodded as a sound thumped behind them. They both jumped and ducked down, and Kelsier chuckled as he walked across the rooftop. “We really have to find a better way of warning people that we’re coming up. Every time I visit a spynest, I worry that I’m going to startle someone off the rooftop.”

Vin stood, dusting off her clothing. She wore mistcloak, shirt, and trousers; it had been days since she’d worn a dress. She only put in token appearances at Mansion Renoux. Kelsier was too worried about assassins to let her stay there for long.

At least we bought Kliss’s silence, Vin thought, annoyed at the expense. “It’s time?” she asked.

Kelsier nodded. “Nearly so, at least. I want to stop somewhere on the way.”

Vin nodded. For their second meeting, Marsh had chosen a location that he was supposedly scouting for the Ministry. It was a perfect opportunity to meet, since Marsh had an excuse to be in the building all night, ostensibly Seeking for any Allomantic activity nearby. He would have a Soother with him for a good deal of the time, but there would be an opening near the middle of the night when Marsh figured he would have a good hour alone. Not much time if he had to sneak out and back, but plenty of time for a pair of stealthy Mistborn to pay him a quick visit.

They bid farewell to Spook and Pushed off into the night. However, they didn’t travel the rooftops for long before Kelsier led them down onto the street, landing and walking to conserve strength and metals.

It’s kind of odd, Vin thought, remembering her first night practicing Allomancy with Kelsier. I don’t even think of the empty streets as creepy anymore.

The cobblestones were slick from mistwater, and the deserted street eventually disappeared into the distant haze. It was dark, silent, and lonely; even the war hadn’t changed very much. Soldier groups, when they attacked, went in clumps, striking quickly and trying to overrun the defenses of an enemy house.

Yet, despite the emptiness of the nighttime city, Vin felt comfortable in it. The mists were with her.

“Vin,” Kelsier said as they walked. “I want to thank you.”

She turned to him, a tall, proud figure in a majestic mistcloak. “Thank me? Why?”

“For the things you said about Mare. I’ve been thinking a lot about that day . . . about her. I don’t know if your ability to see through copperclouds explains everything, but . . . well, given the choice, I’d rather believe that Mare didn’t betray me.”

Vin nodded, smiling.

He shook his head ruefully. “It sounds foolish, doesn’t it? As if . . . all these years, I’ve just been waiting for a reason to give in to self-delusion.”

“I don’t know,” Vin said. “Once, maybe I would have thought you a fool, but . . . well, that’s kind of what trust is, isn’t it? A willful self-delusion? You have to shut out that voice that whispers about betrayal, and just hope that your friends aren’t going to hurt you.”

Kelsier chuckled. “I don’t think you’re helping the argument any, Vin.”

She shrugged. “Makes sense to me. Distrust is really the same thing—only on the other side. I can see how a person, given the choice between two assumptions, would choose to trust.”

“But not you?” Kelsier asked.

Vin shrugged again. “I don’t know anymore.”

Kelsier hesitated. “This . . . Elend of yours. There’s a chance that he was just trying to scare you into leaving the city, right? Perhaps he said those things for your own good.”

“Maybe,” Vin said. “But, there was something different about him . . . about the way he looked at me. He knew I was lying to him, but I don’t think he realized that I was skaa. He probably thought I was a spy from one of the other houses. Either way, he seemed honest in his desire to be rid of me.”

“Maybe you thought that because you were already convinced that he was going to leave you.”

“I . . .” Vin trailed off, glancing down at the slick, ashen street as they walked. “I don’t know—and it’s your fault, you know. I used to understand everything. Now it’s all confused.”

“Yes, we’ve messed you up right properly,” Kelsier said with a smile.

“You don’t seem bothered by the fact.”

“Nope,” Kelsier said. “Not a bit. Ah, here we are.”

He stopped beside a large, wide building—probably another skaa tenement. It was dark inside; skaa couldn’t afford lamp oil, and they would have put out the building’s central hearth after preparing the evening meal.

“This?” Vin asked uncertainly.

Kelsier nodded, walking up to tap lightly on the door. To Vin’s surprise, it opened hesitantly, a wiry skaa face peeking out into the mists.

“Lord Kelsier!” the man said quietly.

“I told you I’d visit,” Kelsier said, smiling. “Tonight seemed like a good time.”

“Come in, come in,” the man said, pulling the door open. He stepped back, careful not to let any of the mist touch him as Kelsier and Vin entered.