Either way, thieving crews like Camon’s were the rats who fed on the city’s corruption. And, like rats, they were impossible to entirely exterminate—especially in a city with the population of Luthadel.
“Scavengers,” Kelsier said, smiling; apparently he did that a lot. “That’s an appropriate description, Vin. Well, Dox and I, we’re scavengers too … we’re just a higher quality of scavenger. We’re more well-bred, you might say—or perhaps just more ambitious.”
She frowned. “You’re noblemen?”
“Lord, no,” Dockson said.
“Or, at least,” Kelsier said, “not full-blooded ones.”
“Half-breeds aren’t supposed to exist,” Vin said carefully. “The Ministry hunts them.”
Kelsier raised an eyebrow. “Half-breeds like you?”
Vin felt a shock. How …?
“Even the Steel Ministry isn’t infallible, Vin,” Kelsier said. “If they can miss you, then they can miss others.”
Vin paused thoughtfully. “Milev. He called you Mistings. Those are some kind of Allomancer, right?”
Dockson glanced at Kelsier. “She’s observant,” the shorter man said with an appreciative nod.
“Indeed,” Kelsier agreed. “The man did call us Mistings, Vin—though the appellation was a bit hasty, since neither Dox nor I are technically Mistings. We do, however, associate with them quite a bit.”
Vin sat quietly for a moment, sitting beneath the scrutiny of the two men. Allomancy. The mystical power held by the nobility, granted to them by the Lord Ruler some thousand years before as a reward for their loyalty. It was basic Ministry doctrine; even a skaa like Vin knew that much. The nobility had Allomancy and privilege because of their ancestors; the skaa were punished for the same reason.
The truth was, however, that she didn’t really know what Allomancy was. It had something to do with fighting, she’d always assumed. One “Misting,” as they were called, was said to be dangerous enough to kill an entire thieving team. Yet, the skaa she knew spoke of the power in whispered, uncertain tones. Before this moment, she’d never even paused to consider the possibility that it might simply be the same thing as her Luck.
“Tell me, Vin,” Kelsier said, leaning forward with interest. “Do you realize what you did to that obligator in the Canton of Finance?”
“I used my Luck,” Vin said quietly. “I use it to make people less angry.”
“Or less suspicious,” Kelsier said. “Easier to scam.”
Vin nodded.
Kelsier held up a finger. “There are a lot of things you’re going to have to learn. Techniques, rules, and exercises. One lesson, however, cannot wait. Never use emotional Allomancy on an obligator. They’re all trained to recognize when their passions are being manipulated. Even the high nobility are forbidden from Pulling or Pushing the emotions of an obligator. You are what caused that obligator to send for an Inquisitor.”
“Pray the creature never catches your trail again, lass,” Dockson said quietly, sipping his wine.
Vin paled. “You didn’t kill the Inquisitor?”
Kelsier shook his head. “I just distracted him for a bit—which was quite dangerous enough, I might add. Don’t worry, many of the rumors about them aren’t true. Now that he’s lost your trail, he won’t be able to find you again.”
“Most likely,” Dockson said.
Vin glanced at the shorter man apprehensively.
“Most likely,” Kelsier agreed. “There are a lot of things we don’t know about the Inquisitors—they don’t seem to follow the normal rules. Those spikes through their eyes, for instance, should kill them. Nothing I’ve learned about Allomancy has ever provided an explanation for how those creatures keep living. If it were only a regular Misting Seeker on your trail, we wouldn’t need to worry. An Inquistor … well, you’ll want to keep your eyes open. Of course, you already seem pretty good at that.”
Vin sat uncomfortably for a moment. Eventually, Kelsier nodded to her mug of ale. “You aren’t drinking.”
“You might have slipped something in it,” Vin said.
“Oh, there was no need for me to sneak something into your drink,” Kelsier said with a smile, pulling an object out of his suit coat pocket. “After all, you’re going to drink this vial of mysterious liquid quite willingly.”
He set a small glass vial on the tabletop. Vin frowned, regarding the liquid within. There was a dark residue at its bottom. “What is it?” she asked.
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be mysterious,” Kelsier said with a smile.
Dockson rolled his eyes. “The vial is filled with an alcohol solution and some flakes of metal, Vin.”
“Metal?” she asked with a frown.
“Two of the eight basic Allomantic metals,” Kelsier said. “We need to do some tests.”
Vin eyed the vial.
Kelsier shrugged. “You’ll have to drink it if you want to know any more about this Luck of yours.”
“You drink half first,” Vin said.
Kelsier raised an eyebrow. “A bit on the paranoid side, I see.”
Vin didn’t respond.
Finally, he sighed, picking up the vial and pulling off the plug.
“Shake it up first,” Vin said. “So you get some of the sediment.”
Kelsier rolled his eyes, but did as requested, shaking the vial, then downing half of its contents. He set it back on the table with a click.
Vin frowned. Then she eyed Kelsier, who smiled. He knew that he had her. He had shown off his power, had tempted her with it. The only reason to be subservient to those with power is so that you can learn to someday take what they have. Reen’s words.
Vin reached out and took the vial, then she downed its contents. She sat, waiting for some magical transformation or surge of power—or even signs of poison. She felt nothing.
How … anticlimactic. She frowned, leaning back in her chair. Out of curiosity, she felt at her Luck.
And felt her eyes widen in shock.
It was there, like a massive golden hoard. A storage of power so incredible that it stretched her understanding. Always before, she had needed to be a scrimp with her Luck, holding it in reserve, using up morsels sparingly. Now she felt like a starving woman invited to a high nobleman’s feast. She sat, stunned, regarding the enormous wealth within her.
“So,” Kelsier said with a prodding voice. “Try it. Soothe me.”
Vin reached out, tentatively touching her newfound mass of Luck. She took a bit, and directed it at Kelsier.
“Good.” Kelsier leaned forward eagerly. “But we already knew you could do that. Now the real test, Vin. Can you go the other way? You can dampen my emotions, but can you enflame them too?”
Vin frowned. She’d never used her Luck in such a way; she hadn’t even realized that she could. Why was he so eager?
Suspicious, Vin reached for her source of Luck. As she did so, she noticed something interesting. What she had first interpreted as one massive source of power was actually two different sources of power. There were different types of Luck.
Eight. He’d said there were eight of them. But … what do the others do?