She sighed, closing her eyes and burning bronze. She could hear the spirit, watching nearby. And, she could hear it again as well, the strange thumping in the distance. She opened her eyes, leaving her bronze on, and quietly unfolded something from her pocket: a sheet from the logbook. By the light from Elend’s balcony below, and with tin, she could easily read the words.
I sleep but a few hours each night. We must press forward, traveling as much as we can each day—but when I finally lie down, I find sleep elusive. The same thoughts that trouble me during the day are only compounded by the stillness of night.
And, above it all, I hear the thumping sounds from above, the pulsings from the mountains. Drawing me closer with each beat.
She shivered. She had asked one of Elend’s seekers to burn bronze, and he had claimed to hear nothing from the north. Either he was the kandra, lying to her about his ability to burn bronze, or Vin could hear a rhythm that nobody else could. Nobody except a man a thousand years dead.
A man everyone had assumed was the Hero of Ages.
You’re being silly, she told herself, refolding the paper. Jumping to conclusions. To her side, OreSeur rustled, lying quietly and staring out over the city.
And yet, she kept thinking of Sazed’s words. Something was happening with the mists. Something was wrong.
Zane didn’t find her atop Keep Hasting.
He stopped in the mists, standing quietly. He’d expected to find her waiting, for this was the place of their last fight. Even thinking of the event made him tense with anticipation.
During the months of sparring, they had always met again at the place where he’d eventually lost her. Yet, he’d returned to this location on several nights, and had never found her. He frowned, thinking of Straff’s orders, and of necessity.
Eventually, he would likely be ordered to kill this girl. He wasn’t certain what bothered him more—his growing reluctance to consider such an act, or his growing worry that he might not actually be able to beat her.
She could be it, he thought. The thing that finally lets me resist. The thing that convinces me to just … leave.
He couldn’t explain why he needed a reason. Part of him simply ascribed it to his insanity, though the rational part of him felt that was a weak excuse. Deep down, he admitted that Straff was all he had ever known. Zane wouldn’t be able to leave until he knew he had someone else to rely on.
He turned away from Keep Hasting. He’d had enough of waiting; it was time to seek her out. Zane threw a coin, bounding across the city for a time. And, sure enough, there she was: sitting atop Keep Venture, watching over his foolish brother.
Zane rounded the keep, keeping far enough away that even tin-enhanced eyes wouldn’t see him. He landed on the back of the keep’s roof, then walked forward quietly. He approached, watching her sit on the edge of the roof. The air was silent.
Finally, she turned around, jumping slightly. He swore that she could sense him when she shouldn’t be able to.
Either way, he was discovered.
“Zane,” Vin said flatly, easily identifying the silhouette. He wore his customary black on black, with no mistcloak.
“I’ve been waiting,” he said quietly. “Atop Keep Hasting. Hoping you’d come.”
She sighed, careful to keep an eye on him, but relaxing slightly. “I’m not really in the mood for sparring right now.”
He watched her. “Pity,” he finally said. He walked over, prompting Vin to rise cautiously to her feet. He paused beside the lip of the rooftop, looking down at Elend’s lit balcony.
Vin glanced at OreSeur. He was tense, alternately watching her and Zane.
“You’re so worried about him,” Zane said quietly.
“Elend?” Vin asked.
Zane nodded. “Even though he uses you.”
“We’ve had this discussion, Zane. He isn’t using me.”
Zane looked up at her, meeting her eyes, standing straight-backed and confident in the night.
He’s so strong, she thought. So sure of himself. So different from …
She stopped herself.
Zane turned away. “Tell me, Vin,” he said, “when you were younger, did you ever wish for power?”
Vin cocked her head, frowning at the strange question. “What do you mean?”
“You grew up on the streets,” Zane said. “When you were younger, did you wish for power? Did you dream of having the ability to free yourself, to kill those who brutalized you?”
“Of course I did,” Vin said.
“And now you have that power,” Zane said. “What would the child Vin say if she could see you? A Mistborn who is bent and bowed by the weight of another’s will? Powerful, yet somehow still subservient?”
“I’m a different person now, Zane,” Vin said. “I’d like to think that I’ve learned things since I was a child.”
“I’ve found that a child’s instincts are often the most honest,” Zane said. “The most natural.”
Vin didn’t respond.
Zane turned quietly, looking out over the city, seemingly unconcerned that he was exposing his back to her. Vin eyed him, then dropped a coin. It plinked against the metal rooftop, and he immediately glanced back toward her.
No, she thought, he doesn’t trust me.
He turned away again, and Vin watched him. She did understand what he meant, for she had once thought as he did. Idly, she wondered what kind of person she might have become if she’d gained full access to her powers without—at the same time—learning of friendship and trust from Kelsier’s crew.
“What would you do, Vin?” Zane asked, turning back toward her. “Assuming you didn’t have any constraints—assuming there were no repercussions for your actions?”
Go north. The thought was immediate. Find out what is causing that thumping. She didn’t say it, however. “I don’t know,” she said instead.
He turned, eyeing her. “You aren’t taking me seriously, I see. I apologize for wasting your time.”
He turned to go, walking directly between her and OreSeur. Vin watched him, and felt a sudden stab of concern. He’d come to her, willing to talk rather than just fight—and she’d wasted the opportunity. She was never going to turn him to her side if she didn’t talk to him.
“You want to know what I’d do?” she asked, her voice ringing in the silent mists.
Zane paused.
“If I could just use my power as I wanted?” Vin asked. “No repercussions? I’d protect him.”
“Your king?” Zane asked, turning.
Vin nodded sharply. “These men who brought armies against him—your master, this man named Cett. I’d kill them. I’d use my power to make certain that nobody could threaten Elend.”
Zane nodded quietly, and she saw respect in his eyes. “And why don’t you?”
“Because …”
“I see the confusion in your eyes,” Zane said. “You know that your instincts to kill those men are right—yet you hold back. Because of him.”
“There would be repercussions, Zane,” Vin said. “If I killed those men, their armies might just attack. Right now, diplomacy could still work.”