Vin shivered. “I guess you have a point,” she said, tucking away the bead of atium. “You know, something must be wrong with me—I barely even stop to think how much this stuff is worth anymore.”
Kelsier didn’t respond immediately. “I have trouble forgetting how much it’s worth,” he said quietly.
“I...” Vin trailed off, glancing down at his hands. He usually wore long-sleeved shirts and gloves now; his reputation was making it dangerous for his identifying scars to be visible in public. Vin knew they were there, however. Like thousands of tiny white scratches, layered one over the other.
“Anyway,” Kelsier said, “you’re right about the logbook— I had hoped that it would mention the Eleventh Metal. But, Allomancy isn’t even mentioned in reference to Feruchemy. The two powers are similar in many respects; you’d think that he would compare them.”
“Maybe he worried that someone would read the book, and didn’t want to give away that he was an Allomancer.”
Kelsier nodded. “Maybe. It’s also possible that he hadn’t Snapped yet. Whatever happened in those Terris Mountains changed him from hero to tyrant; maybe it also awakened his powers. We won’t know, I guess, until Saze finishes his translation.”
“Is he close?”
Kelsier nodded. “Just a bit left—the important bit, hopefully. I feel a little frustrated with the text so far. The Lord Ruler hasn’t even told us what he is supposed to accomplish in those mountains! He claims that he’s doing something to protect the entire world, but that might just be his ego coming through.”
He didn’t seem very egotistical in the text to me, Vin thought. Kind of the opposite, actually.
“Regardless,” Kelsier said, “we’ll know more once the last few sections are translated.”
It was growing dark outside, and Vin had to turn up her tin to see properly. The street outside her window grew visible, adopting the strange mixture of shadow and luminance that was the result of tin-enhanced vision. She knew it was dark, logically. Yet, she could still see. Not as she did in regular light—everything was muted—but it was sight nonetheless.
Kelsier checked his pocket watch.
“How long?” Vin asked.
“Another half hour,” Kelsier said. “Assuming he’s on time—and I doubt he will be. He is my brother, after all.”
Vin nodded, shifting so that she leaned with arms crossed across the broken windowsill. Though it was a very small thing, she felt a comfort in having the atium Kelsier had given her.
She paused. Thinking of atium reminded her of something important. Something she’d been bothered by on several occasions. “You never taught me the ninth metal!” she accused, turning.
Kelsier shrugged. “I told you that it wasn’t very important.”
“Still. What is it? Some alloy of atium, I assume?”
Kelsier shook his head. “No, the last two metals don’t follow the same pattern as the basic eight. The ninth metal is gold.”
“Gold?” Vin asked. “That’s it? I could have tried it a long time ago on my own!”
Kelsier chuckled. “Assuming you wanted to. Burning gold is a somewhat.... uncomfortable experience.”
Vin narrowed her eyes, then turned to look back out the window. We’ll see, she thought.
“You’re going to try it anyway, aren’t you?” Kelsier said, smiling.
Vin didn’t respond.
Kelsier sighed, reaching into his sash and pulling out a golden boxing and a file. “You should probably get one of these,” he said, holding up the file. “However, if you collect a metal yourself, burn just a tiny bit first to make certain that it’s pure or alloyed correctly.”
“If it isn’t?” Vin asked.
“You’ll know,” Kelsier promised, beginning to file away at the coin. “Remember that headache you had from pewter dragging?”
“Yes?”
“Bad metal is worse,” Kelsier said. “Far worse. Buy your metals when you can—in every city, you’ll find a small group of merchants who provide powdered metals to Allomancers. Those merchants have a vested interest in making certain that all of their metals are pure—a grumpy Mistborn with a headache isn’t exactly the kind of slighted customer one wants to deal with.” Kelsier finished filing, then collected a few flakes of gold on a small square of cloth. He stuck one on his finger, then swallowed it.
“This is good,” he said, handing her the cloth. “Go ahead—just remember, burning the ninth metal is a strange experience.”
Vin nodded, suddenly feeling a bit apprehensive. You’ll never know if you don’t try it for yourself, she thought, then dumped the dustlike flakes into her mouth. She washed them down with a bit of water from her flask.
A new metal reserve appeared within her—unfamiliar and different from the nine she knew. She looked up at Kelsier, took a breath, and burned gold.
She was in two places at once. She could see herself, and she could see herself.
One of her was a strange woman, changed and transformed from the girl she had always been. That girl had been careful and cautious—a girl who would never burn an unfamiliar metal based solely on the word of one man. This woman was foolish; she had forgotten many of the things that had let her survive so long. She drank from cups prepared by others. She fraternized with strangers. She didn’t keep track of the people around her. She was still far more careful than most people, but she had lost so much.
The other her was something she had always secretly loathed. A child, really. Thin to the point of scrawniness, she was lonely, hateful, and untrusting. She loved no one, and no one loved her. She always told herself, quietly, that she didn’t care. Was there something worth living for? There had to be. Life couldn’t be as pathetic as it seemed. Yet, it had to be. There wasn’t anything else.
Vin was both. She stood in two places, moving both bodies, being both girl and woman. She reached out with hesitant, uncertain hands—one each—and touched herself on the faces, one each.
Vin gasped, and it was gone. She felt a sudden rush of emotions, a sense of worthlessness and confusion. There were no chairs in the room, so she simply squatted to the ground, sitting with her back to the wall, knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them.
Kelsier walked over, squatting down to lay a hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right.”
“What was that?” she whispered.
“Gold and atium are complements, like the other metal pairs,” Kelsier said. “Atium lets you see, marginally, into the future. Gold works in a similar way, but it lets you see into the past. Or, at least, it gives you a glimpse of another version of yourself, had things been different in the past.”
Vin shivered. The experience of being both people at once, of seeing herself twice over, had been disturbingly eerie. Her body still shook, and her mind didn’t feel...right anymore.
Fortunately, the sensation seemed to be fading. “Remind me to listen to you in the future,” she said. “Or, at least, when you talk about Allomancy.”
Kelsier chuckled. “I tried to put it out of your mind for as long as possible. But, you had to try it sometime. You’ll get over it.”
Vin nodded. “It’s... almost gone already. But, it wasn’t just a vision, Kelsier. It was real. I could touch her, the other me.”
“It may feel that way,” Kelsier said. “But she wasn’t here— I couldn’t see her, at least. It’s an hallucination.”
“Atium visions aren’t just hallucinations,” Vin said. “The shadows really do show what people will do.”
“True,” Kelsier said. “I don’t know. Gold is strange, Vin. I don’t think anybody understands it. My trainer, Gemmel, said that a gold shadow was a person who didn’t exist—but could have. A person you might have become, had you not made certain choices. Of course, Gemmel was a bit screwy, so I’m not sure how much I’d believe of what he said.”
Vin nodded. However, it was unlikely that she’d find out more about gold anytime soon. She didn’t intend to ever burn it aga
in, if she could help it. She continued to sit, letting her emotions recover for a while, and Kelsier moved back over by the window. Eventually, he perked up.
“He’s here?” Vin asked, crawling to her feet.
Kelsier nodded. “You want to stay here and rest some more?”
Vin shook her head.
“All right, then,” he said, placing his pocket watch, file, and other metals on the windowsill. “Let’s go.”
They didn’t go out the window—Kelsier wanted to maintain a low profile, though this section of the Twists was so deserted that Vin wasn’t sure why he bothered. They left the building via a set of untrustworthy stairs, then crossed the street in silence.
The building Marsh had chosen was even more run-down than the one Vin and Kelsier had been sitting in. The front door was gone, though Vin could see remnants of it in the splintered refuse on the floor. The room inside smelled of dust and soot, and she had to stifle a sneeze.
A figure standing on the far side of the room spun at the sound. “Kell?”
“It’s me,” Kelsier said. “And Vin.”
As Vin drew closer, she could see Marsh squinting in the darkness. It was odd to watch him, feeling like she was in plain sight, yet knowing that to him she and Kelsier were nothing more than shadows. The far wall of the building had collapsed, and mist floated freely in the room, nearly as dense as it was outside.
“You have Ministry tattoos!” Vin said, staring at Marsh.
“Of course,” Marsh said, his voice as stern as ever. “I had them put on before I met up with the caravan. I had to have them to play the part of an acolyte.”
They weren’t extensive—he was playing a low-ranked obligator—but the pattern was unmistakable. Dark lines, rimming the eyes, running outward like crawling cracks of lightning. There was one, single line—much thicker, and in bright red, running down the side of his face. Vin recognized the pattern: These were the lines of an obligator who belonged to the Canton of Inquisition. Marsh hadn’t just infiltrated the Ministry, he’d chosen the most dangerous section of it to infiltrate.
“But, you’ll always have them,” Vin said. “They’re so distinctive—everywhere you go, you’ll be known as either an obligator or a fraud.”
“That was part of the price he paid to infiltrate the Ministry, Vin,” Kelsier said quietly.
“It doesn’t matter,” Marsh said. “I didn’t have much of a life before this anyway. Look, can we hurry? I’m expected to be somewhere soon. Obligators lead busy lives, and I only have a few minutes’ leeway.”
“All right,” Kelsier said. “I assume your infiltration went well, then?”
“It went fine,” Marsh said tersely. “Too well, actually—I think I might have distinguished myself from the group. I assumed that I would be at a disadvantage, since I didn’t have the same five years of training that the other acolytes did. I made certain to answer questions as thoroughly as possible, and to perform my duties with precision. However, I apparently know more about the Ministry than even some of its members do. I’m certainly more competent than this batch of newcomers, and the prelans have noticed that.”
Kelsier chuckled. “You always were an overachiever.”
Marsh snorted quietly. “Anyway, my knowledge—not to mention my skill as a Seeker—has already earned me an outstanding reputation. I’m not sure how closely I want the prelans paying attention to me; that background we devised begins to sound a bit flimsy when an Inquisitor is grilling you.”
Vin frowned. “You told them that you’re a Misting?”
“Of course I did,” Marsh said. “The Ministry—particularly the Canton of Inquisition—recruits noblemen Seekers diligently. The fact that I’m one is enough to keep them from asking too many questions about my background. They’re happy enough to have me, despite the fact that I’m a fair bit older than most acolytes.”
“Besides,” Kelsier said, “he needed to tell them he was a Misting so that he could get into the more secretive Ministry sects. Most of the higher-ranking obligators are Mistings of one sort or another. They tend to favor their own kind.”
“With good reason,” Marsh said, speaking quickly. “Kell, the Ministry is far more competent than we assumed.”
“What do you mean?”
“They make use of their Mistings,” Marsh said. “Good use of them. They have bases throughout the city—Soothing stations, as they call them. Each one contains a couple of Ministry Soothers whose only duty is to extend a dampening influence around them, calming and depressing the emotions of everyone in the area.”
Kelsier hissed quietly. “How many?”
“Dozens,” Marsh said. “Concentrated in skaa sections of the city. They know that the skaa are beaten, but they want to make sure things stay that way.”
“Bloody hell!” Kelsier said. “I always thought that the skaa inside Luthadel seemed more beaten down than others. No wonder we had so much trouble recruiting. The people’s emotions are under a constant Soothing!”
Marsh nodded. “The Ministry Soothers are good, Kell— very good. Even better than Breeze. All they do is Soothe all day, every day. And, since they’re not trying to get you to do anything specific—instead just keeping you from extreme emotional ranges—they’re very hard to notice.
“Each team has a Smoker to keep them hidden, as well as a Seeker to watch for passing Allomancers. I’ll bet this is where the Inquisitors get a lot of their leads—most of our people are smart enough not to burn when they know that there’s an obligator in the area, but they’re more lax in the slums.”
“Can you get us a list of the stations?” Kelsier asked. “We need to know where those Seekers are, Marsh.”
Marsh nodded. “I’ll try. I’m on my way to a station right now—they always do personnel changes at night, to maintain their secret. The upper ranks have taken an interest in me, and they’re letting me visit some stations to become familiar with their work. I’ll see if I can get a list for you.”
Kelsier nodded in the darkness.
“Just . . . don’t be stupid with the information, all right?” Marsh said. “We have to be careful, Kell. The Ministry has kept these stations secret for quite some time. Now that we know about them, we have a serious advantage. Don’t waste it.”
“I won’t,” Kelsier promised. “What about the Inquisitors? Did you find anything out about them?”
Marsh stood quietly for a moment. “They’re...strange, Kell. I don’t know. They seem to have all of the Allomantic powers, so I assume that they were once Mistborn. I can’t find out much else about them—though I do know that they age.”
“Really?” Kelsier said with interest. “So, they’re not immortal?”
“No,” Marsh said. “The obligators say that Inquisitors change occasionally. The creatures are very long-lived, but they do eventually die of old age. New ones must be recruited from noblemen ranks. They’re people, Kell—they’ve just been... changed.”
Kelsier nodded. “If they can die of old age, then there’s probably other ways to kill them too.”
“That’s what I think,” Marsh said. “I’ll see what I can find, but don’t get your hopes up. The Inquisitors don’t have many dealings with normal obligators—there’s political tension between the two groups. The lord prelan leads the church, but the Inquisitors think that they should be in charge.”
“Interesting,” Kelsier said slowly. Vin could practically hear his mind working on the new information.
“Anyway, I should go,” Marsh said. “I had to jog all the way here, and I’m going to be late getting to my appointment anyway.”
Kelsier nodded, and Marsh began to move away, picking his way over the rubble in his dark obligator’s robe.
“Marsh,” Kelsier said as Marsh reached the doorway.
Marsh turned.
“Thank you,” Kelsier said. “I can only guess how dangerous this is.”
“I’m not doing this for you, Kell,” Marsh said. “But...I apprec
iate the sentiment. I’ll try and send you another missive once I have more information.”
“Be careful,” Kelsier said.
Marsh vanished out into the misty night. Kelsier stood in the fallen room for a few minutes, staring after his brother.
He wasn’t lying about that either, Vin thought. He really does care for Marsh.
“Let’s go,” Kelsier said. “We should get you back to Mansion Renoux—House Lekal is throwing another party in a few days, and you’ll need to be there.”
Sometimes, my companions claim that I worry and question too much. However, while I may wonder about my stature as the hero, there is one thing that I have never questioned: the ultimate good of our quest.
The Deepness must be destroyed. I have seen it, and I have felt it. This name we give it is too weak a word, I think. Yes, it is deep and unfathomable, but it is also terrible. Many do not realize that it is sentient, but I have sensed its mind, such that it is, the few times I have confronted it directly.
It is a thing of destruction, madness, and corruption. It would destroy this world not out of spite or out of animosity, but simply because that is what it does.
28
KEEP LEKAL’S BALLROOM WAS SHAPED like the inside of a pyramid. The dance floor was set on a waist-high platform at the very center of the room, and the dining tables sat on four similar platforms surrounding it. Servants scuttled through the trenches running between the platforms, delivering food to the dining aristocrats.
Four tiers of balconies ran along the inside perimeter of the pyramidal room, each one a little closer to the point at the top, each one extending just a little bit more over the dance floor. Though the main room was well lit, the balconies themselves were shadowed by their overhangs. The design was intended to allow proper viewing of the keep’s most distinctive artistic feature—the small stained-glass windows that lined each balcony.
Lekal noblemen bragged that while other keeps had larger windows, Keep Lekal had the most detailed ones. Vin had to admit that they were impressive. She’d seen so many stained-glass windows over the last few months that she was beginning to take them for granted. Keep Lekal’s windows, however, put most of them to shame. Each of these was an extravagant, detailed marvel of resplendent color. Exotic animals pranced, distant landscapes enticed, and portraits of famous noblemen sat proudly.
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