The night fell still again.
The street around her was wide—for Luthadel—though tenements rose high on either side. Mist spun lazily, making the ends of the street disappear into a haze.
A group of eight men appeared from the mists and approached. Vin smiled. She had been right: Someone was following her. These men weren’t, however, the Watcher. They didn’t have his solid grace, his sense of power. These men were something far more blunt. Assassins.
It made sense. If she had just arrived with an army to conquer Luthadel, the first thing she’d have done was send in a group of Allomancers to kill Elend.
She felt a sudden pressure at her side, and she cursed as she was thrown off balance, her coin pouch jerking away from her waist. She ripped its string free, letting the enemy Allomancer Push the coins away from her. The assassins had at least one Coinshot—a Misting who had the power to burn steel and Push on metals. In fact, two of the assassins trailed blue lines pointing to coin pouches of their own. Vin considered returning the favor and Pushing their pouches away, but hesitated. No need to play her hand yet. She might need those coins.
Without coins of her own, she couldn’t attack from a distance. However, if this was a good team, then attacking from a distance would be pointless—their Coinshots and Lurchers would be ready to deal with shot coins. Fleeing wasn’t an option either. These men hadn’t come for her alone; if she fled, they’d continue on to their real goal.
Nobody sent assassins to kill bodyguards. Assassins killed important men. Men like Elend Venture, king of the Central Dominance. The man she loved.
Vin flared pewter—body growing tense, alert, dangerous. Four Thugs at the front, she thought, eyeing the advancing men. The pewter burners would be inhumanly strong, capable of surviving a great deal of physical punishment. Very dangerous up close. And the one carrying the wooden shield is a Lurcher.
She feinted forward, causing the approaching Thugs to jump backward. Eight Mistings against one Mistborn was decent odds for them—but only if they were careful. The two Coinshots moved up the sides of the street, so that they’d be able to Push at her from both directions. The last man, standing quietly beside the Lurcher, had to be a Smoker—relatively unimportant in a fight, his purpose was to hide his team from enemy Allomancers.
Eight Mistings. Kelsier could have done it; he’d killed an Inquisitor. She wasn’t Kelsier, however. She had yet to decide if that was a bad or a good thing.
Vin took a deep breath, wishing she had a bit of atium to spare, and burned iron. This let her Pull on a nearby coin—one of those that had been shot at her—much as steel would have let her Push on it. She caught it, dropped it, then jumped, making as if to Push on the coin and shoot herself into the air.
One of the Coinshots, however, Pushed against the coin, shooting it away. Since Allomancy would only let a person Push directly away from—or Pull directly toward—their body, Vin was left without a decent anchor. Pushing against the coin would only shoot her sideways.
She dropped back to the ground.
Let them think they have me trapped, she thought, crouching in the center of the street. The Thugs approached a little more confidently. Yes, Vin thought. I know what you’re thinking. This is the Mistborn who killed the Lord Ruler? This scrawny thing? Can it be possible?
I wonder the same thing myself.
The first Thug ducked in to attack, and Vin burst into motion. Obsidian daggers flashed in the night as she ripped them free from their sheaths, and blood sprayed black in the darkness as she ducked beneath the Thug’s staff and slashed her weapons across his thighs.
The man cried out. The night was no longer silent.
Men cursed as Vin moved through them. The Thug’s partner attacked her—blurringly fast, his muscles fueled by pewter. His staff whipped a tassel from Vin’s mistcloak as she threw herself to the ground, then pushed herself back up out of a third Thug’s reach.
A spray of coins flew toward her. Vin reached out and Pushed on them. The Coinshot, however, continued to Push—and Vin’s Push smashed against his.
Pushing and Pulling metals was all about weight. And—with the coins between them—that meant Vin’s weight was slammed against the assassin’s weight. Both were tossed backward. Vin shot out of a Thug’s reach; the Coinshot fell to the ground.
A flurry of coins came at her from the other direction. Still tumbling in the air, Vin flared steel, giving herself an extra burst of power. Blue lines were a jumbled mess, but she didn’t need to isolate the coins to Push them all away.
This Coinshot let go of his missiles as soon as he felt Vin’s touch. The bits of metal scattered out into the mists.
Vin hit the cobblestones shoulder-first. She rolled—flaring pewter to enhance her balance—and flipped to her feet. At the same time, she burned iron and Pulled hard on the disappearing coins.
They shot back toward her. As soon as they got close, Vin jumped to the side and Pushed them toward the approaching Thugs. The coins, however, immediately veered away, twisting through the mists toward the Lurcher. He was unable to Push the coins away—like all Mistings, he only had one Allomantic power, and his was to Pull with iron.
He did this effectively, protecting the Thugs. He raised his shield and grunted from the impact as the coins hit it and bounced away.
Vin was already moving again. She ran directly for the now exposed Coinshot to her left, the one who had fallen to the ground. The man yelped in surprise, and the other Coinshot tried to distract Vin, but he was too slow.
The Coinshot died with a dagger in his chest. He was no Thug; he couldn’t burn pewter to enhance his body. Vin pulled out her dagger, then yanked his pouch free. He gurgled quietly and collapsed back to the stones.
One, Vin thought, spinning, sweat flying from her brow. She now faced seven men down the corridor-like street. They probably expected her to flee. Instead, she charged.
As she got close to the Thugs, she jumped—then threw down the pouch she’d taken from the dying man. The remaining Coinshot cried out, immediately Pushing it away. Vin, however, got some lift from the coins, throwing herself in a leap directly over the heads of the Thugs.
One of them—the wounded one—had unfortunately been smart enough to remain behind to protect the Coinshot. The Thug raised his cudgel as Vin landed. She ducked his first attack, raised her dagger, and—
A blue line danced into her vision. Quick. Vin reacted immediately, twisting and Pushing against a door latch to throw herself out of the way. She hit the ground on her side, then flung herself up with one hand. She landed skidding on mist-wetted feet.
A coin hit the ground behind her, bouncing against the cobbles. It hadn’t come close to hitting her. In fact, it had seemed aimed at the remaining assassin Coinshot. He’d probably been forced to Push it away.
But who had fired it?
OreSeur? Vin wondered. But, that was foolish. The kandra was no Allomancer—and besides, he wouldn’t have taken the initiative. OreSeur did only what he was expressly told.
The assassin Coinshot looked equally confused. Vin glanced up, flaring tin, and was rewarded with the sight of a man standing atop a nearby building. A dark silhouette. He didn’t even bother to hide.
It’s him, she thought. The Watcher.
The Watcher remained atop his perch, offering no further interference as the Thugs rushed Vin. She cursed as she found three staves coming at her at once. She ducked one, spun around the other, then planted a dagger in the chest of the man holding the third. He stumbled backward, but didn’t drop. Pewter kept him on his feet.