OreSeur bowed his head.
“The Contract, OreSeur!” Vin said, climbing to her knees. “You must obey my orders!”
“My servant, Vin,” Zane said. “My Contract. My orders.”
My servant….
And suddenly, it clicked. She’d suspected everyone—Dockson, Breeze, even Elend—but she’d never connected the spy to the one person that made the most sense. There had been a kandra in the palace all along. And he had been at her side.
“I’m sorry, Mistress,” OreSeur whispered.
“How long?” Vin asked, bowing her head.
“Since you gave my predecessor—the real OreSeur—the dog’s body,” the kandra said. “I killed him that day and took his place, wearing the body of a dog. You never saw him as a wolfhound.”
What easier way to mask the transformation? Vin thought. “But, the bones we discovered in the palace,” she said. “You were with me on the wall when they appeared. They—”
She’d taken his word on how fresh those bones had been; she’d taken his word on when they had been produced. She’d assumed all along that the switch must have happened that day, when she was with Elend on the city wall—but she’d done so primarily because of what OreSeur had said.
Idiot! she thought. OreSeur—or, TenSoon, as Zane had called him—had led her to suspect everyone but himself. What was wrong with her? She was usually so good at sniffing out traitors, at noticing insincerity. How had she missed spotting her own kandra?
Zane walked forward. Vin waited, on her knees. Weak, she told herself. Look weak. Make him leave you alone. Try to—
“Soothing me will do no good,” Zane said quietly, grabbing her by the front of her shirt, picking her up, then throwing her back down. Mist sprayed beneath her, puffing up in a splash as she slammed to the floor. Vin stifled her cry of pain.
I have to stay quiet. If guards come, he’ll kill them. If Elend comes…
She had to stay quiet, quiet even as Zane kicked her in her wounded side. She grunted, eyes watering.
“You could have saved me,” Zane said, peering down at her. “I was willing to go with you. Now, what is left? Nothing. Nothing, but Straff’s orders.” He punctuated that sentence with a kick.
Stay small, she told herself through the pain. He’ll leave you alone eventually….
But it had been years since she’d had to bow before anyone. Her days of cringing before Camon and Reen were almost misty shadows, forgotten before the light offered by Elend and Kelsier. As Zane kicked again, Vin found herself growing angry.
He brought his foot back, angling it toward her face, and Vin moved. As his foot arced down, she threw herself backward, Pushing against the window latches to scoot herself through the mists. She flared pewter, throwing herself up to her feet, trailing mist from the floor. It was up past her knees now.
She glared at Zane, who looked back with a dark expression. Vin ducked forward, but Zane moved faster—moved first—stepping between her and the balcony. Not that getting to it would do her any good; with atium, he could chase her down easily.
It was like before, when he’d attacked her with atium. Only this time it was worse. Before, she’d been able to believe—if just a little—that they were still sparring. Still not enemies, even if they weren’t friends. She hadn’t really believed that he wanted to kill her.
She had no such illusions this time. Zane’s eyes were dark, his expression flat—just like that night a few days before, when slaughtering Cett’s men.
Vin was going to die.
She hadn’t felt such fear in a long time. But now she saw it, felt it, smelled it on herself as she shied away from the approaching Zane. She felt what it was like to face a Mistborn—what it must have been like for those soldiers she’d killed. There was no fighting. There was no chance.
No, she told herself forcefully, holding her side. Elend didn’t back down against Straff. He doesn’t have Allomancy, but he marched into the center of the koloss camp.
I can beat this.
With a cry, Vin dashed toward TenSoon. The dog backed away in shock, but he needn’t have worried. Zane was there again. He slammed a shoulder into Vin, then whipped his dagger around and slashed a wound across her cheek as she fell backward. The cut was precise. Perfect. Matching the wound on her other cheek, one given to her during her first fight with a Mistborn, nearly two years before.
Vin gritted her teeth, burning iron as she fell. She Pulled on a pouch on her desk, whipping the coins into her hand. She hit the ground on her side, other hand down, and threw herself back to her feet. She dumped a shower of coins from the pouch into her hand, then raised them at Zane.
Blood dripped from her chin. She threw the coins out. Zane moved to Push them away.
Vin smiled, then burned duralumin as she Pushed. The coins snapped forward, and the wind of their sudden passing parted the mist on the ground, revealing the floor beneath.
The room shook.
And in an eyeblink, Vin found herself slammed back against the wall. She gasped in surprise, breath knocked from her lungs, her vision swimming. She looked up, disoriented, surprised to find herself on the ground again.
“Duralumin,” Zane said, still standing with a hand up before him. “TenSoon told me about it. We deduced you must have a new metal from the way you can sense me when my copper is on. After that, a little searching, and he found that note from your metallurgist, which handily had the instructions for making duralumin.”
Her addled mind struggled to connect ideas. Zane had duralumin. He’d used the metal, and had Pushed against one of the coins she’d shot at him. He must have Pushed behind himself as well, to keep from being forced backward as his weight met hers.
And her own duralumin-enhanced Push had slammed her against the wall. She had trouble thinking. Zane walked forward. She looked up, dazed, then scrambled away on hands and knees, crawling in the mists. It was at face level, and her nostrils tickled as she inhaled the cool, quiet chaos.
Atium. She needed atium. But, the bead was in TenSoon’s shoulder; she couldn’t Pull it to herself. The reason he carried it there was that the flesh protected it from being affected by Allomancers. Just like the spikes piercing an Inquisitor’s body, just like her own earring. Metal inside—or even piercing—a person’s body could not be Pulled or Pushed except with the most extreme of Allomantic forces.
But she’d done it once. When fighting the Lord Ruler. It hadn’t been her own power, or even duralumin, that had let her accomplish it. It had been something else. The mists.
She’d drawn upon them.
Something hit her on her back, pushing her down. She rolled over, kicking upward, but her foot missed Zane’s face by a few atium-aided inches. Zane slapped her foot aside, then reached down, slamming her against the floor by her shoulders.
Mists churned around him as he looked down at her. Through her terror, she reached out for the mists, as she had over a year before when fighting the Lord Ruler. That day, they had fueled her Allomancy, giving her a strength that she shouldn’t have had. She reached out for them, begging for their help.
And nothing happened.
Please….
Zane slammed her down again. The mists continued to ignore her pleas.
She twisted, Pulling against the window frame to get leverage, and pushed Zane to the side. They rolled, Vin coming around on top.
Suddenly, both of them lurched off the floor, bursting out of the mists and flying toward the ceiling, thrown upward as Zane Pushed against coins on the floor. They slammed against the ceiling, Zane’s body pushing against hers, pinning her to the wooden planks. He was on top again—or, rather, he was on the bottom, but that was now the point of leverage.
Vin gasped. He was so strong. Stronger than she. His fingers bit into the flesh of her arms despite her pewter, and her side ached from her earlier wounds. She was in no condition to fight—not against another Mistborn.
Especially not one with atium.
Zane con
tinued to Push them against the ceiling. Vin’s hair fell toward him, and mists churned the floor below, like a whirlpool vortex that was slowly rising.
Zane released his Push, and they fell. Yet, he was still in control. He spun her, throwing her down below him as they entered the mists again. They hit the ground, the blow knocking the wind from Vin’s lungs yet again. Zane loomed above her, speaking through gritted teeth.
“All that effort, wasted,” he hissed. “Hiding an Allomancer in Cett’s hirelings so that you would suspect him of attacking you at the Assembly. Forcing you to fight in front of Elend so that he’d be intimidated by you. Pushing you to explore your powers and kill so that you’d realize just how powerful you truly are. All wasted!”
He leaned down. “You. Were. Supposed. To. Save me!” he said, his face just inches from hers, breathing heavily. He pinned one of her struggling arms to the floor with his knee, and then, in a strangely surreal moment, he kissed her.
And at the same time, he rammed his dagger into the side of one of her breasts. Vin tried to cry out, but his mouth held hers as the dagger cut her flesh.
“Be careful, Master!” OreSeur—TenSoon—suddenly yelled. “She knows much about kandra!”
Zane looked up, his hand stilled. The voice, the pain, brought lucidity to Vin. She flared tin, using the pain to shock herself awake, clearing her mind.
“What?” Zane asked, looking down toward the kandra.
“She knows, Master,” TenSoon said. “She knows our secret. The reason why we served the Lord Ruler. The reason why we serve the Contract. She knows why we fear Allomancers so much.”
“Be silent,” Zane commanded. “And speak no more.”
TenSoon fell silent.
Our secret… Vin thought, glancing over at the wolfhound, sensing the anxiety in his canine expression. He’s trying to tell me something. Trying to help me.
Secret. The secret of the kandra. The last time she’d tried Soothing him, he’d howled with pain. Yet, she saw permission in his expression. It was enough.
She slammed TenSoon with a Soothing. He cried out, howling, but she Pushed harder. Nothing happened. Gritting her teeth, she burned duralumin.
Something broke. She was in two places at once. She could feel TenSoon standing by the wall, and she could feel her own body in Zane’s grip. TenSoon was hers, totally and completely. Somehow, not quite knowing how, she ordered him forward, controlling his body.
The massive wolfhound’s body slammed into Zane, throwing him off Vin. The dagger flipped to the ground, and Vin stumbled to her knees, grabbing her chest, feeling warm blood there. Zane rolled, obviously shocked, but he came to his feet and kicked TenSoon.
Bones broke. The wolfhound tumbled across the floor—right toward Vin. She snatched the dagger off the ground as he rolled to her feet, then plunged it into his shoulder, cutting the shoulder, her fingers feeling in the muscle and sinew. She came up with bloodied hands and a single bead of atium. She swallowed it with a gulp, spinning toward Zane.
“Now let’s see how you fare,” she hissed, burning atium. Dozens of atium shadows burst from Zane, showing her possible actions he could take—all of them ambiguous. She would be giving off the same confusing mess to his eyes. They were even.
Zane turned, looking into her eyes, and his atium shadows disappeared.
Impossible! she thought. TenSoon groaned at her feet as she realized that her atium reserve was gone. Burned away. But the bead had been so large….
“Did you think I’d give you the very weapon you needed to fight me?” Zane asked quietly. “Did you think I’d really give up atium?”
“But—”
“A lump of lead,” Zane said, walking forward. “Plated with a thin layer of atium around it. Oh, Vin. You really need to be more careful whom you trust.”
Vin stumbled backward, feeling her confidence wilt. Make him talk! she thought. Try to get his atium to run out.
“My brother said that I shouldn’t trust anyone…” she mumbled. “He said…anyone would betray me.”
“He was a wise man,” Zane said quietly, standing chest-deep in mists.
“He was a paranoid fool,” Vin said. “He kept me alive, but he left me broken.”
“Then he did you a favor.”
Vin glanced toward TenSoon’s mangled, bleeding form. He was in pain; she could see it in his eyes. In the distance she could hear…thumping. She’d turned her bronze back on. She looked up slowly. Zane was walking toward her. Confident.
“You’ve been playing with me,” she said. “You drove a wedge between me and Elend. You made me think he feared me, made me think he was using me.”
“He was,” Zane said.
“Yes,” Vin said. “But it doesn’t matter—not the way you made it seem. Elend uses me. Kelsier used me. We use each other, for love, for support, for trust.”
“Trust will kill you,” he said.
“Then it is better to die.”
“I trusted you,” he said, stopping before her. “And you betrayed me.”
“No,” Vin said, raising her dagger. “I’m going to save you. Just like you want.” She snapped forward and struck, but her hope—that he’d run out of atium—was in vain. He sidestepped indifferently; he let her dagger come within an inch of striking, but he was never really in danger.
Vin spun to attack, but her blade cut only air, skimming along the top of the rising mists.
Zane moved before her next attack came, dodging even before she knew what she was going to do. Her dagger stabbed the place where he had been standing.
He’s too fast, she thought, side burning, mind thumping. Or was that the Well of Ascension thumping….
Zane stopped just in front of her.
I can’t hit him, she thought with frustration. Not when he knows where I’ll strike before I do!
Vin paused.
Before I do….
Zane stepped away to a place near the center of the room, then kicked her fallen dagger into the air and caught it. He turned back toward her, mist trailing from the weapon in his hand, jaw set and eyes dark.
He knows where I’ll strike before I do.
Vin raised her dagger, blood trickling down face and side, thunderous drumbeats booming in her mind. The mist was nearly up to her chin.
She cleared her mind. She didn’t plan an attack. She didn’t react to Zane as he ran toward her, dagger raised. She loosened her muscles and closed her eyes, listening to his footsteps. She felt the mist rise around her, churned by Zane’s advent.
She snapped her eyes open. He had the dagger raised; it glittered as it swung. Vin prepared to attack, but didn’t think about the strike; she simply let her body react.
And she watched Zane very, very carefully.
He flinched just slightly to the left, open hand moving upward, as if to grab something.
There! Vin thought, immediately wrenching herself to the side, forcing her instinctive attack out of its natural trajectory. She twisted her arm—and dagger—midswing. She had been about to attack left, as Zane’s atium had anticipated.
But, by reacting, Zane had shown her what she was going to do. Let her see the future. And if she could see it, she could change it.
They met. Zane’s weapon took her in the shoulder. But Vin’s knife took him in the neck. His left hand closed on empty air, snatching at a shadow that should have told him where her arm would be.
Zane tried to gasp, but her knife had pierced his windpipe. Air sucked through blood around the blade, and Zane stumbled back, eyes wide with shock. He met her eyes, then collapsed into the mists, his body thumping against the wooden floor.
Zane looked up through the mists, looked up at her. I’m dying, he thought.
Her atium shadow had split at the last moment. Two shadows, two possibilities. He’d counteracted the wrong one. She’d tricked him, defeated him somehow. And now he was dying.
Finally.
“You know why I thought you’d save me?” he tried to whisper to
her, though he somehow knew that his lips weren’t properly forming the words. “The voice. You were the first person I ever met that it didn’t tell me to kill. The only person.”
“Of course I didn’t tell you to kill her,” God said.
Zane felt his life seeping away.
“You know the really funny thing, Zane?” God asked. “The most amusing part of this all? You’re not insane.
“You never were.”
Vin watched quietly as Zane sputtered, blood coming from his lips. She watched cautiously; a knife to the throat should have been enough to kill even a Mistborn, but sometimes pewter could let one do awesome things.
Zane died. She checked his pulse, then retrieved her dagger. After that, she stood for a moment, feeling…numb, in both mind and body. She raised a hand to her wounded shoulder—and in doing so, she brushed her wounded breast. She was bleeding too much, and her mind was growing fuzzy again.
I killed him.
She flared pewter, forcing herself to keep moving. She stumbled over to TenSoon, kneeling beside him.
“Mistress,” he said. “I’m sorry….”
“I know,” she said, staring at the terrible wound she’d made. His legs no longer worked, and his body lay in an unnatural twist. “How can I help?”
“Help?” TenSoon said. “Mistress, I nearly got you killed!”
“I know,” she said again. “How can I make the pain go away? Do you need another body?”
TenSoon was quiet for a moment. “Yes.”
“Take Zane’s,” Vin said. “For the moment, at least.”
“He is dead?” TenSoon asked with surprise.
He couldn’t see, she realized. His neck is broken.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“How, Mistress?” TenSoon asked. “He ran out of atium?”
“No,” Vin said.
“Then, how?”
“Atium has a weakness,” she said. “It lets you see the future.”
“That…doesn’t sound like a weakness, Mistress.”
Vin sighed, wobbling slightly. Focus! she thought. “When you burn atium, you see a few moments into the future—and you can change what will happen in that future. You can grab an arrow that should have kept flying. You can dodge a blow that should have killed you. And you can move to block an attack before it even happens.”
The Mistborn Trilogy Page 132