Vin, however, wrinkled her nose. “That’s disgusting, Breeze. You’re old. She’s young.”
“There was no relationship,” Breeze snapped. “Besides, I’m not that old—nor is she that young.”
“She sounded like she was about twelve,” Vin said.
Breeze rolled his eyes. “Allrianne was a child of the country court—a little innocent, a little spoiled—but she hardly deserves to be spoken of in that manner. She’s actually quite witty, in the right circumstances.”
“So, was there anything between you?” Vin pressed.
“Of course not,” Breeze said. “Well, not really. Nothing real, though it could have been taken the wrong way. Was taken the wrong way, actually, once her father discovered … Anyway, who are you to talk, Vin? I seem to remember a certain young girl pining for an old Kelsier a few years back.”
Elend perked up at this.
Vin flushed. “I never pined over Kelsier.”
“Not even at the beginning?” Breeze asked. “Come now, a dashing man like him? He saved you from being beaten by your old crewleader, took you in …”
“You’re a sick man,” Vin declared, folding her arms. “Kelsier was like a father to me.”
“Eventually, perhaps,” Breeze said, “but—”
Elend held up a hand. “Enough,” he said. “This line of discussion is useless.”
Breeze snorted, but fell silent. Tindwyl is right, Elend thought. They will listen to me if I act like I expect them to.
“We have to decide what to do,” Elend said.
“The daughter of the man threatening us could be a very powerful bargaining chip,” Dockson said.
“You mean take her hostage?” Vin said, eyes narrowing.
Dockson shrugged. “Someone has to state the obvious, Vin.”
“Not really a hostage,” Ham said. “She came to us, after all. Simply letting her stay could have the same effect as taking her hostage.”
“That would risk antagonizing Cett,” Elend said. “Our original plan was to make him think we’re his ally.”
“We could give her back, then,” Dockson said. “That could get us a long way in the negotiations.”
“And her request?” Breeze asked. “The girl wasn’t happy in her father’s camp. Shouldn’t we at least consider her wishes?”
All eyes turned toward Elend. He paused. Just a few weeks ago, they would have kept on arguing. It seemed strange that they should so quickly begin to look to him for decisions.
Who was he? A man who had haphazardly ended up on the throne? A poor replacement for their brilliant leader? An idealist who hadn’t considered the dangers his philosophies would bring? A fool? A child? An impostor?
The best they had.
“She stays,” Elend said. “For now. Perhaps we’ll be forced to return her eventually, but this will make a useful distraction for Cett’s army. Let them sweat for a bit. It will only buy us more time.”
The crewmembers nodded, and Breeze looked relieved.
I’ll do what I can, make the decisions as I see they must be made, Elend thought.
Then accept the consequences.
He could trade words with the finest of philosophers, and had an impressive memory. Nearly as good, even, as my own. Yet, he was not argumentative.
22
CHAOS AND STABILITY, THE MIST was both. Upon the land there was an empire, within that empire were a dozen shattered kingdoms, within those kingdoms were cities, towns, villages, plantations. And above them all, within them all, around them all, was the mist. It was more constant than the sun, for it could not be hidden by clouds. It was more powerful than the storms, for it would outlast any weather’s fury. It was always there. Changing, but eternal.
Day was an impatient sigh, awaiting the night. When the darkness did come, however, Vin found that the mists did not calm her as they once had.
Nothing seemed certain anymore. Once the night had been her refuge; now she found herself glancing behind, watching for ghostly outlines. Once Elend had been her peace, but he was changing. Once she had been able to protect the things she loved—but she was growing more and more afraid that the forces moving against Luthadel were beyond her capacity to stop.
Nothing frightened her more than her own impotence. During her childhood she had taken it for granted that she couldn’t change things, but Kelsier had given her pride in herself.
If she couldn’t protect Elend, what good was she?
There are still some things I can do, she thought forcefully. She crouched quietly on a ledge, mistcloak tassels hanging down, waving slightly in the wind. Just below her, torches burned fitfully at the front of Keep Venture, illuminating a pair of Ham’s guards. They stood alert in the swirling mists, showing impressive diligence.
The guards wouldn’t be able to see her sitting just above them; they’d barely be able to see twenty feet in the thick mists. They weren’t Allomancers. Besides the core crew, Elend had access to barely half a dozen Mistings—which made him Allomantically weak compared with most of the other new kings in the Final Empire. Vin was supposed to make up the difference.
The torches flickered as the doors opened, and a figure left the palace. Ham’s voice echoed quietly in the mist as he greeted his guards. One reason—perhaps the main reason—that the guards were so diligent was because of Ham. He might have been a bit of an anarchist at heart, but he could be a very good leader if he was given a small team. Though his guards weren’t the most disciplined, polished soldiers Vin had seen, they were fiercely loyal.
Ham talked with the men for a time, then he waved farewell and walked out into the mists. The small courtyard between the keep and its wall contained a couple of guard posts and patrols, and Ham would visit each one in turn. He walked boldly in the night, trusting to diffused starlight to see, rather than blinding himself with a torch. A thief’s habit.
Vin smiled, leaping quietly to the ground, then scampering after Ham. He walked on, ignorant of her presence. What would it be like to have only one Allomantic power? Vin thought. To be able to make yourself stronger, but to have ears as weak as those of any normal man? It had been only two years, but already she had come to rely so heavily on her abilities.
Ham continued forward, Vin following discreetly, until they reached the ambush. Vin tensed, flaring her bronze.
OreSeur howled suddenly, jumping from a pile of boxes. The kandra was a dark silhouette in the night, his inhuman baying disturbing even to Vin. Ham spun, cursing quietly.
And he instinctively flared pewter. Focused on her bronze, Vin confirmed that the pulses were definitely coming from him. Ham spun around, searching in the night as OreSeur landed. Vin, however, simply smiled. Ham’s Allomancy meant he wasn’t the impostor. She could cross another name off her list.
“It’s okay, Ham,” Vin said, walking forward.
Ham paused, lowering his dueling cane. “Vin?” he asked, squinting in the mist.
“It’s me,” she said. “I’m sorry, you startled my hound. He can get jumpy at night.”
Ham relaxed. “We all can, I guess. Anything happening tonight?”
“Not that I can tell,” she said. “I’d let you know.”