“Kill me, Father,” he said, “and you’ll die, too.”
“Kill me, Father,” Elend said, “and you’ll die, too.”
Vin paused. She stood outside the tent, in the darkness of early night. She’d been standing with Straff’s soldiers, but they’d rushed in at his command. She’d moved into the darkness, and now stood on the north side of the tent, watching the shadowed forms move within.
She’d been about to burst in. Elend hadn’t been doing very well—not that he was a bad negotiator. He was just too honest by nature. It wasn’t difficult to tell when he was bluffing, especially if you knew him well.
But, this new proclamation was different. It wasn’t a sign of Elend attempting to be clever, nor was it an angry outburst like the one he’d made moments before. Suddenly, he seemed calm and forceful.
Vin waited quietly, her daggers out, tense in the mists before the glowing tent. Something told her she had to give Elend just a few more moments.
Straff laughed at Elend’s threat.
“You are a fool, Father,” Elend said. “You think I came here to negotiate? You think I would willingly deal with one such as you? No. You know me better than that. You know that I’d never submit to you.”
“Then why?” Straff asked.
She could almost hear Elend’s smile. “I came to get near you, Father … and to bring my Mistborn to the very heart of your camp.”
Silence.
Finally, Straff laughed. “You threaten me with that wisp of a girl? If that’s the great Mistborn of Luthadel I’ve been hearing of, then I’m sorely disappointed.”
“That’s because she wants you to feel that way,” Elend said. “Think, Father. You were suspicious, and the girl confirmed those suspicions. But, if she’s as good as the rumors say—and I know you’ve heard the rumors—then how would you have spotted her touch on your emotions?
“You caught her Soothing you, and you called her on it. Then, you didn’t feel the touch anymore, so you assumed that she was cowed. But, after that, you began to feel confident. Comfortable. You dismissed Vin as a threat—but would any rational man dismiss a Mistborn, no matter how small or quiet? In fact, you’d think that the small, quiet ones would be the assassins you’d want to pay the most attention to.”
Vin smiled. Clever, she thought. She reached out, Rioting Straff’s emotions, flaring her metal and stoking his sense of anger. He gasped in sudden shock. Take the clue, Elend.
“Fear,” Elend said.
She Soothed away Straff’s anger and exchanged it for fear.
“Passion.”
She complied.
“Calmness.”
She soothed everything away. Inside the tent, she saw Straff’s shadow standing stiffly. An Allomancer couldn’t force a person to do anything—and usually, strong Pushes or Pulls on an emotion were less effective, since they alerted the target that something was wrong. In this case, however, Vin wanted Straff to know for certain she was watching.
She smiled, extinguishing her tin. Then she burned duralumin and Soothed Straff’s emotions with explosive pressure, wiping away all capacity for feeling within him. His shadow stumbled beneath the attack.
Her brass was gone a moment later, and she turned on her tin again, watching the black patterns on the canvas.
“She’s powerful, Father,” Elend said. “She’s more powerful than any Allomancer you’ve known. She killed the Lord Ruler. She was trained by the Survivor of Hathsin. And if you kill me, she’ll kill you.”
Straff righted himself, and the tent fell silent again.
A footstep sounded. Vin spun, ducking, raising her dagger.
A familiar figure stood in the night mists. “Why is it I can never sneak up on you?” Zane asked quietly.
Vin shrugged and turned back to the tent—but moved herself so she could keep an eye on Zane, too. He walked over and crouched beside her, watching the shadows.
“That’s hardly a useful threat,” Straff finally said from within. “You’ll be dead, even if your Mistborn does get to me.”
“Ah, Father,” Elend said. “I was wrong about your interest in Luthadel. However, you’re also wrong about me—you’ve always been wrong about me. I don’t care if I die, not if it brings safety to my people.”
“Cett will take the city if I’m gone,” Straff said.
“I think my people might be able to hold against him,” Elend said. “After all, he has the smaller army.”
“This is idiocy!” Straff snapped. He didn’t, however, order his soldiers forward any farther.
“Kill me, and you die, too,” Elend said. “And not just you. Your generals. Your captains. Even your obligators. She has orders to slaughter you all.”
Zane took a step closer to Vin, his feet crunching slightly on the packed-down weeds that made up the floor of the camp. “Ah,” he whispered, “clever. No matter how strong your opponent is, he can’t attack if you’ve got a knife at his throat.”
Zane leaned even closer, and Vin looked up at him, their faces just inches from each other. He shook his head in the soft mists. “But tell me—why is it that people like you and me always have to be the knives?”
Inside the tent, Straff was growing concerned. “No one is that powerful, boy,” he said, “not even a Mistborn. She might be able to kill some of my generals, but she’d never get to me. I have my own Mistborn.”
“Oh?” Elend said. “And why hasn’t he killed her? Because he’s afraid to attack? If you kill me, Father—if you even make so much as a move toward my city—then she’ll begin the slaughter. Men will die like prisoners before the fountains on a day of execution.”
“I thought you said he was above this kind of thing,” Zane whispered. “You claimed you weren’t his tool. You said he wouldn’t use you as an assassin. …”
Vin shuffled uncomfortably. “He’s bluffing, Zane,” she said. “He’d never actually do anything like that.”
“She is an Allomancer like you’ve never seen, Father,” Elend said, voice muffled by the tent. “I’ve seen her fight other Allomancers—none of them can even touch her.”
“Is that true?” Zane asked.
Vin paused. Elend hadn’t actually ever seen her attack other Allomancers. “He saw me attack some soldiers once, and I’ve told him about my fights with other Allomancers.”
“Ah,” Zane said softly. “So it’s only a small lie, then. Those are fine when one is king. Many things are. Exploiting one person to save an entire kingdom? What leader wouldn’t pay such a cheap price? Your freedom in exchange for his victory.”
“He’s not using me,” Vin said.
Zane stood. Vin turned slightly, watching carefully as he walked into the mists, away from tents, torches, and soldiers. He paused, standing a short distance away, looking up. Even with the light of tent and fires, this camp was claimed by the mists. It spun all around them. From within it, the torchlight and campfires seemed insignificant. Like dying coals.
“What is this to him,” Zane said quietly, sweeping a hand around him. “Can he ever understand the mists? Can he ever understand you?”