Mistborn: The Final Empire (Mistborn, #1)

“The Inquisitors say they have more to add,” the Lord Ruler said in a tired voice.

Tevidian eyed Vin, frowning in confusion. He doesn’t know who I am, she thought. He never knew he was a father.

“My lord,” Tevidian said, turning away from her. “Look outside your window! Do we not have better things to discuss? The entire city is in rebellion! Skaa torches light up the night, and they dare go out into the mists. They blaspheme in riots, attacking the keeps of the nobility!”

“Let them,” the Lord Ruler said in an uncaring voice. He seemed so . . . worn. He sat strongly on his throne, but there was still a weariness to his posture and his voice.

“But my lord!” Tevidian said. “The Great Houses are falling!”

The Lord Ruler waved a dismissive hand. “It is good for them to get purged every century or so. It fosters instability, keeps the aristocracy from growing too confident. Usually, I let them kill each other in one of their foolish wars, but these riots will work.”

“And . . . if the skaa come to the palace?”

“Then I will deal with them,” the Lord Ruler said softly. “You will not question this further.”

“Yes, my lord,” Tevidian said, bowing and backing away.

“Now,” the Lord Ruler said, turning to the Inquisitors. “What is it you wished to present?”

The scarred Inquisitor stepped forward. “Lord Ruler, we wish to petition that leadership of your Ministry be taken from these . . . men and granted to the Inquisitors instead.”

“We have discussed this,” the Lord Ruler said. “You and your brothers are needed for more important tasks. You are too valuable to waste on simple administration.”

“But,” the Inquisitor said, “by allowing common men to rule your Ministry, you have unwittingly allowed corruption and vice to enter the very heart of your holy palace!”

“Idle claims!” Tevidian spat. “You say such things often, Kar, but you never offer any proof.”

Kar turned slowly, his eerie smile lit by the twisting, colored windowlight. Vin shivered. That smile was nearly as unsettling as the Lord Ruler’s Soothing.

“Proof?” Kar asked. “Why, tell me, Lord Prelan. Do you recognize that girl?”

“Bah, of course not!” Tevidian said with a wave of his hand. “What does a skaa girl have to do with the government of the Ministry?”

“Everything,” Kar said, turning to Vin. “Oh, yes . . . everything. Tell the Lord Ruler who your father is, child.”

Vin tried to squirm, but the Lord Ruler’s Allomancy was so oppressive, the Inquisitor’s hands were so strong. “I don’t know,” she managed to say through gritted teeth.

The Lord Ruler perked up slightly, turning toward her, leaning forward.

“You cannot lie to the Lord Ruler, child,” Kar said in a quiet, rasping voice. “He has lived for centuries, and has learned to use Allomancy like no mortal man. He can see things in the way your heart beats, and can read your emotions in your eyes. He can sense the moment when you lie. He knows . . . oh, yes. He knows.”

“I never knew my father,” Vin said stubbornly. If the Inquisitor wanted to know something, then keeping it a secret seemed like a good idea. “I’m just a street urchin.”

“A Mistborn street urchin?” Kar asked. “Why, that’s interesting. Isn’t it, Tevidian?”

The lord prelan paused, his frown deepening. The Lord Ruler stood slowly, walking down the steps of his dais toward Vin.

“Yes, my lord,” Kar said. “You felt her Allomancy earlier. You know that she is a full Mistborn—an amazingly powerful one. Yet, she claims to have grown up on the street. What noble house would have abandoned such a child? Why, for her to have such strength, she must be of an extremely pure line. At least . . . one of her parents must have been from a very pure line.”

“What are you implying?” Tevidian demanded, paling.

The Lord Ruler ignored them both. He strode through the streaming colors of the reflective floor, then stopped right in front of Vin.

So close, she thought. His Soothing was so strong that she couldn’t even feel terror—all she felt was the deep, overpowering, horrible sorrow.

The Lord Ruler reached out with delicate hands, taking her by the cheeks, tilting her face up to look into his eyes. “Who is your father, girl?” he asked quietly.

“I . . .” Despair twisted inside of her. Grief, pain, a desire to die.

The Lord Ruler held her face close to his own, looking into her eyes. In that moment, she knew the truth. She could see a piece of him; she could sense his power. His . . . godlike power.

He wasn’t worried about the skaa rebellion. Why would he have to worry? If he wished, he could slaughter every person in the city by himself. Vin knew it to be the truth. It might take him time, but he could kill forever, tirelessly. He need fear no rebellion.

He’d never needed to. Kelsier had made a terrible, terrible mistake.

“Your father, child,” the Lord Ruler prompted, his demand like a physical weight upon her soul.

Vin spoke despite herself. “My . . . brother told me that my father was that man over there. The lord prelan.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, though when the Lord Ruler turned from her, she couldn’t quite remember why she had been crying.

“It’s a lie, my lord!” Tevidian said, backing away. “What does she know? She’s just a silly child.”

“Tell me truthfully, Tevidian,” the Lord Ruler said, walking slowly toward the obligator. “Have you ever bedded a skaa woman?”

The obligator paused. “I followed the law! Each time, I had them slain afterward.”

“You . . . lie,” the Lord Ruler said, as if surprised. “You’re uncertain.”

Tevidian was visibly shaking. “I . . . I think I got them all, my lord. There . . . there was one I may have been too lax with. I didn’t know she was skaa at first. The soldier I sent to kill her was too lenient, and he let her go. But I found her, eventually.”

“Tell me,” the Lord Ruler said. “Did this woman bear any children?”

The room fell silent.

“Yes, my lord,” the high prelan said.

The Lord Ruler closed his eyes, sighing. He turned back toward his throne. “He is yours,” he said to the Inquisitors.

Immediately, six Inquisitors dashed across the room, howling in joy, pulling obsidian knives from sheaths beneath their robes. Tevidian raised his arms, crying out as the Inquisitors fell on him, exulting in their brutality. Blood flew as they plunged their daggers over and over again into the dying man. The other obligators backed away, looking on in horror.

Kar remained behind, smiling as he watched the massacre, as did the Inquisitor who was Vin’s captor. One other Inquisitor remained back as well, though Vin didn’t know why.

“Your point is proven, Kar,” the Lord Ruler said, sitting wearily on his throne. “It seems that I have trusted too much in the . . . obedience of mankind. I did not make a mistake. I have never made a mistake. However, it is time for a change. Gather the high prelans and bring them here—rouse them from their beds, if need be. They will witness as I grant the Canton of Inquisition command and authority over the Ministry.”

Kar’s smile deepened.

“The half-breed child will be destroyed.”

“Of course, my lord,” Kar said. “Though . . . there are some questions I wish to ask her first. She was part of a team of skaa Mistings. If she can help us locate the others . . .”

“Very well,” the Lord Ruler said. “That is your duty, after all.”





* * *



Is there anything more beautiful than the sun? I often watch it rise, for my restless sleep usually awakens me before dawn.

Each time I see its calm yellow light peeking above the horizon, I grow a little more determined, a little more hopeful. In a way, it is the thing that has kept me going all this time.





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