“Straff,” Clubs said. “This Cett came in from the same direction, and our scouts were focused on him. Straff probably knew about this other army a few days ago, but we had virtually no chance of seeing them.”
Elend nodded.
“Straff is setting up a perimeter of soldiers, watching the enemy army,” Vin said. “I doubt they’re friendly to each other.” She stood atop one of the sawtooth parapet crenels, feet positioned dangerously close to the wall’s edge.
“Maybe they’ll attack each other,” Elend said hopefully.
Clubs snorted. “I doubt it. They’re too evenly matched, though Straff might be a little stronger. I doubt Cett would take the chance by attacking him.”
“Why come, then?” Elend asked.
Clubs shrugged. “Maybe he hoped he’d beat Venture to Luthadel, and get to take it first.”
He spoke of the event—the capture of Luthadel—as if it were a given. Elend’s stomach twisted as he leaned against the battlement, looking out through a merlon. Vin and the others were thieves and skaa Allomancers—outcasts who had been hunted for most of their lives. Perhaps they were accustomed to dealing with this pressure—this fear—but Elend was not.
How did they live with the lack of control, the sense of inevitability? Elend felt powerless. What could he do? Flee, and leave the city to fend for itself? That, of course, was not an option. But, confronted with not one, but two armies preparing to destroy his city and take his throne, Elend found it hard to keep his hands steady as he gripped the rough stone of the battlement.
Kelsier would have found a way out of this, he thought.
“There!” Vin’s voice interrupted Elend’s thoughts. “What’s that?”
Elend turned. Vin was squinting, looking toward Cett’s army, using tin to see things that were invisible to Elend’s mundane eyes.
“Someone’s leaving the army,” Vin said. “Riding on horseback.”
“Messenger?” Clubs asked.
“Maybe,” Vin said. “He’s riding pretty fast. …” She began to run from one stone tooth to the next, moving along the wall. Her kandra immediately followed, padding quietly across the wall beneath her.
Elend glanced at Clubs, who shrugged, and they began to follow. They caught up with Vin standing on the wall near one of the towers, watching the oncoming rider. Or, at least, Elend assumed that was what she watched—he still couldn’t see what she had.
Allomancy, Elend thought, shaking his head. Why couldn’t he have at least ended up with one power—even one of the weaker ones, like copper or iron?
Vin cursed suddenly, standing up straight. “Elend, that’s Breeze!”
“What!” Elend said. “Are you sure?”
“Yes! He’s being chased. Archers on horseback.”
Clubs cursed, waving to a messenger. “Send riders! Cut off his pursuit!”
The messenger dashed away. Vin, however, shook her head. “They won’t make it in time,” she said, almost to herself. “The archers will catch him, or at least shoot him. Even I couldn’t get there fast enough, not running. But, maybe …”
Elend frowned, looking up at her. “Vin, that’s way too far to jump—even for you.”
Vin glanced at him, smiled, then leaped off the wall.
Vin readied the fourteenth metal, duralumin. She had a reserve, but she didn’t burn it—not yet. I hope this works, she thought, seeking an appropriate anchor. The tower beside her had a reinforced iron bulwark on the top—that would work.
She Pulled on the bulwark, yanking herself up to the top of the tower. She immediately jumped again, Pushing herself up and out, angling into the air away from the wall. She extinguished all of her metals except for steel and pewter.
Then, still Pushing against the bulwark, she burned duralumin.
A sudden force smashed against her. It was so powerful, she was certain that only an equally powerful flash of pewter held her body together. She blasted away from the keep, hurtling through the sky as if tossed by some giant, invisible god. The air rushed by so quickly that it roared, and the pressure of sudden acceleration made it difficult to think.
She floundered, trying to regain control. She had, fortunately, picked her trajectory well: she was shooting right toward Breeze and his pursuers. Whatever Breeze had done, it had been enough to make someone extremely angry—for there were a full two dozen men charging after him, arrows nocked.
Vin fell, her steel and pewter completely burned away in that single duralumin-fueled flash of power. She grabbed a metal vial off her belt, downing its contents. However, as she tossed the vial away, she suddenly felt an odd sense of vertigo. She wasn’t accustomed to jumping during the day. It was strange to see the ground coming at her, strange not to have a mistcloak flapping behind her, strange not to have the mist. …
The lead rider lowered his bow, taking sight at Breeze. Neither appeared to have noticed Vin, swooping down like a bird of prey above.
Well, not exactly swooping. Plummeting.
Suddenly snapped back to the moment, Vin burned pewter and threw a coin toward the quickly approaching ground. She Pushed against the coin, using it to slow her momentum and to nudge her to the side. She hit right between Breeze and the archers, landing with a jarring crash, throwing up dust and dirt.
The archer released his arrow.
Even as Vin rebounded, dirt spraying around her, she reached out and Pushed herself back into the air straight at the arrow. Then she Pushed against it. The arrowhead ripped backward—throwing out shards of wood as it split its own shaft in midair—then smacked directly into the forehead of the archer who had released it.
The man toppled from his mount. Vin landed from her rebound. She reached out, Pushing against the horseshoes of the two beasts behind the leader, causing the animals to stumble. The Push threw Vin backward into the air, and cries of equine pain sounded amid the crash of bodies hitting the ground.
Vin continued to Push, flying along the road just a few feet above the ground, quickly catching up with Breeze. The portly man turned in shock, obviously stunned to find Vin hanging in the air beside his galloping horse, her clothing flapping in the wind of her passage. She winked at him, then reached out and Pulled against the armor of another rider.
She immediately lurched in the air. Her body protested the sudden shift in momentum, but she ignored the twist of pain. The man she Pulled against managed to stay in his saddle—until Vin smashed into him feet-first, throwing him backward.
She landed on the black earth, the rider tumbling to the ground beside her. A short distance away, the remaining riders finally reined in their mounts, coming to an abrupt stop a few feet away.
Kelsier probably would have attacked. There were a lot of them, true, but they were wearing armor and their horses were shod. Vin, however, was not Kelsier. She had delayed the riders long enough for Breeze to get away. That was enough.
Vin reached out and Pushed against one of the soldiers, throwing herself backward, leaving the riders to gather their wounded. The soldiers, however, promptly pulled out stone-tipped arrows and nocked their bows.
Vin hissed in frustration as the group took sight. Well, friends, she thought, I suggest that you hang on tightly.
She Pushed slightly against them all, then burned duralumin. The sudden crash of force was expected—the wrench in her chest, the massive flare in her stomach, the howling wind. What she didn’t expect was the effect she’d have on her anchors. The blast of power scattered men and horses, throwing them into the air like leaves in the wind.