“He loves me,” Vin said, glancing back at the shadowed forms. They had fallen quiet for a moment, Straff obviously considering Elend’s threats.
“He loves you?” Zane asked. “Or he loves having you?”
“Elend isn’t like that,” Vin said. “He’s a good man.”
“Good or not, you aren’t like him,” Zane said, voice echoing in the night to her tin-enhanced ears. “Can he understand what it is like to be one of us? Can he know the things we know, care about the things we love? Has he ever seen those?” Zane gestured upward, toward the sky. Far beyond the mists, lights shone in the sky, like tiny freckles. Stars, invisible to the normal eye. Only a person burning tin could penetrate the mists and see them shining.
She remembered the first time Kelsier had shown them to her. She remembered how stunned she had been that the stars had been there all along, invisible beyond the mists. …
Zane continued to point upward. “Lord Ruler!” Vin whispered, taking a small step away from the tent. Through the swirling mists, in the reflected light of the tent, she could see something on Zane’s arm.
The skin was covered with thin white streaks. Scars.
Zane immediately lowered his arm, hiding the scarred flesh with his sleeve.
“You were in the Pits of Hathsin,” Vin said quietly. “Like Kelsier.”
Zane looked away.
“I’m sorry,” Vin said.
Zane turned back, smiling in the night. It was a firm, confident smile. He stepped forward. “I understand you, Vin.”
Then he bowed slightly to her and jumped away, disappearing into the mists. Inside the room, Straff spoke to Elend.
“Go. Leave here.”
The carriage rolled away. Straff stood outside his tent, heedless of the mists, still feeling a bit stunned.
I let him go. Why did I let him go?
Yet—even now—he could feel her touch slamming against him. One emotion after another, like a treasonous maelstrom within him, and then … nothing. Like a massive hand, grabbing his soul and squeezing it into painful submission. It had felt the way he thought death might.
No Allomancer could be that powerful.
Zane respects her, Straff thought. And everyone says she killed the Lord Ruler. That little thing. It couldn’t be.
It seemed impossible. And apparently, that was just the way she wanted it to seem.
Everything had been going so well. The information provided by Zane’s kandra spy had been accurate: Elend did try to make an alliance. The frightening thing about it was that Straff might have gone along with it, assuming Elend to be of no consequence, if the spy hadn’t sent warning.
Even so, Elend had bested him. Straff had even been prepared for their feint of weakness, and he had still fallen.
She’s so powerful. …
A figure in black stepped out of the mists and walked up to Straff. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Father,” Zane said with a smile. “Your own, perhaps?”
“Was there anyone else out there, Zane?” Straff asked, too shaken for repartee at the moment. “Another couple of Mistborn, perhaps, helping her?”
Zane shook his head. “No. She really is that strong.” He turned to walk back out into the mists.
“Zane!” Straff snapped, making the man pause. “We’re going to change plans. I want you to kill her.”
Zane turned. “But—”
“She’s too dangerous. Plus, we now have the information we wanted to get from her. They don’t have the atium.”
“You believe them?” Zane asked.
Straff paused. After how thoroughly he’d been manipulated this evening, he wasn’t going to trust anything he thought he’d learned. “No,” he decided. “But we’ll find it another way. I want that girl dead, Zane.”
“Are we attacking the city for real, then?”
Straff almost gave the order right then, commanding his armies to prepare for a morning assault. The preliminary attack had gone well, showing that the defenses were hardly impressive. Straff could take that wall, then use it against Cett.
However, Elend’s final words before departing this evening made him stop. Send your armies against my city, Father, the boy had said, and die. You’ve felt her power—you know what she can do. You can try and hide, you can even conquer my city.
But she will find you. And she will kill you.
Your only option is to wait. I’ll contact you when my armies are prepared to attack Cett. We’ll strike together, as I said earlier.
Straff couldn’t depend on that. The boy had changed—had become strong, somehow. If Straff and Elend attacked together, Straff had no illusions as to how quickly he’d be betrayed. But Straff couldn’t attack Luthadel while that girl was alive. Not knowing her strength, having felt her touch on his emotions.
“No,” he finally said to Zane’s question. “We won’t attack. Not until you kill her.”
“That might be harder than you make it sound, Father,” Zane said. “I’ll need some help.”
“What kind of help?”
“A strike team. Allomancers that can’t be traced.”
Zane was speaking of a particular group. Most Allomancers were easy to identify because of their noble lineages. Straff, however, had access to some special resources. There was a reason that he had so many mistresses—dozens and dozens of them. Some thought it was just because he was lustful.
That wasn’t it at all. More mistresses meant more children. And more children, born from a high noble line like his, meant more Allomancers. He’d only spawned one Mistborn, but there were many Mistings.
“It will be done,” Straff said.
“They might not survive the encounter, Father,” Zane warned, still standing in the mists.
That awful sensation returned. The sense of nothingness, the horrible knowledge that someone else had complete and total control over his emotions. Nobody should have that much power over him. Especially not Elend.
He should be dead. He came right to me. And I let him go.
“Get rid of her,” Straff said. “Do anything you need to, Zane. Anything.”
Zane nodded, then walked away with a self-satisfied stroll.
Straff returned to his tent and sent for Hoselle again. She looked enough like Elend’s girl. It would do him good to remind himself that most of the time, he really was in control.
Elend sat back in the carriage, a little stunned. I’m still alive! he thought with growing excitement. I did it! I convinced Straff to leave the city alone.
For a time, at least. Luthadel’s safety depended on Straff remaining frightened of Vin. But … well, any victory was an enormous one for Elend. He hadn’t failed his people. He was their king, and his plan—crazy though it might have seemed—had worked. The small crown on his head suddenly didn’t seem as heavy as it had before.
Vin sat across from him. She didn’t look nearly as pleased as she could have.
“We did it, Vin!” Elend said. “It wasn’t what we planned, but it worked. Straff won’t dare attack the city now.”
She nodded quietly.
Elend frowned. “Um, it’s because of you that the city will be safe. You know that, right? If you hadn’t been there … well, of course, if it hadn’t been for you, the entire Final Empire would still be enslaved.”