“Did you leave last night?” Sazed asked. “To visit the privy while I slept?”
“Perhaps. I don’t remember.”
Sazed sat for a moment, staring at the page. The tear was eerily similar in shape to the one from their main stack. Tindwyl, apparently thinking the same thing, laid it over its companion. It matched perfectly; even the smallest ridges in the tears were identical. Even if they’d been torn lying right on top of one another, the duplication wouldn’t have been so perfect.
Both of them sat, staring. Then they burst into motion, riffling through their stacks of pages. Sazed had four copies of the transcription. All were missing the same exact chunk.
“Sazed …” Tindwyl said, her voice shaking just a bit. She held up a sheet of paper—one that had only half of the transcription on it, ending near the middle of the page. A hole had been torn directly in the middle of the page, removing the exact same sentence.
“The rubbing!” Tindwyl said, but Sazed was already moving. He left his chair, rushing to the trunk where he stored his metalminds. He fumbled with the key at his neck, pulling it off and unlocking the trunk. He threw it open, removed the rubbing, then unfolded it delicately on the ground. He withdrew his fingers suddenly, feeling almost as if he’d been bitten, as he saw the tear at the bottom. The same sentence, removed.
“How is this possible?” Tindwyl whispered. “How could someone know so much of our work—so much of us?”
“And yet,” Sazed said, “how could they know so little of our abilities? I have the entire transcription stored in my metalmind. I can remember it right now.”
“What does the missing sentence say?”
“‘Alendi must not reach the Well of Ascension; he must not be allowed to take the power for himself.’”
“Why remove this sentence?” Tindwyl asked.
Sazed stared at the rubbing. This seems impossible. …
A noise sounded at the window. Sazed spun, reaching reflexively into his pewtermind and increasing his strength. His muscles swelled, his robe growing tight.
The shutters swung open. Vin crouched on the sill. She paused as she saw Sazed and Tindwyl—who had also apparently tapped strength, growing to have almost masculine bulk.
“Did I do something wrong?” Vin asked.
Sazed smiled, releasing his pewtermind. “No, child,” he said. “You simply startled us.” He met Tindwyl’s eye, and she began to gather up the ripped pieces of paper. Sazed folded up the rubbing; they would discuss it further later.
“Have you seen anyone spending too much time around my room, Lady Vin?” Sazed asked as he replaced the rubbing. “Any strangers—or even any particular guards?”
“No,” Vin said, climbing into the room. She walked barefoot, as usual, and she didn’t wear her mistcloak; she rarely did in the daytime. If she had fought the night before, she had changed clothing, for there were no stains of blood—or even sweat—on this outfit. “Do you want me to watch for anyone suspicious?” she asked.
“Yes, please,” Sazed said, locking the chest. “We fear that someone has been riffling through our work, though why they would wish to do so is confusing.”
Vin nodded, remaining where she was as Sazed returned to his seat. She regarded him and Tindwyl for a moment.
“I need to talk to you, Sazed,” Vin said.
“I can spare a few moments, I think,” Sazed said. “But, I must warn you that my studies are very pressing.”
Vin nodded, then glanced at Tindwyl. Finally, she sighed, rising. “I guess I will go and see about lunch, then.”
Vin relaxed slightly as the door closed; then she moved over to the table, sitting down in Tindwyl’s chair, pulling her legs up before her on the wooden seat.
“Sazed,” she asked, “how do you know if you’re in love?”
Sazed blinked. “I … I do not think I am one to speak on this topic, Lady Vin. I know very little about it.”
“You always say things like that,” Vin said. “But really, you’re an expert on just about everything.”
Sazed chuckled. “In this case, I assure you that my insecurity is heartfelt, Lady Vin.”
“Still, you’ve got to know something.”
“A bit, perhaps,” Sazed said. “Tell me, how do you feel when you are with young Lord Venture?”
“I want him to hold me,” Vin said quietly, turning to the side, looking out the window. “I want him to talk to me, even if I don’t understand what he’s saying. Anything to keep him there, with me. I want to be better because of him.”
“That seems like a very good sign, Lady Vin.”
“But …” Vin glanced down. “I’m not good for him, Sazed. He’s scared of me.”
“Scared?”
“Well, he’s at least uncomfortable with me. I saw the look in his eyes when he saw me fighting on the day of the Assembly attack. He stumbled away from me, Sazed, horrified.”
“He’d just seen a man slain,” Sazed said. “Lord Venture is somewhat innocent in these matters, Lady Vin. It wasn’t you, I think—it was simply a natural reaction to the horror of death.”
“Either way,” Vin said, glancing back out the window. “I don’t want him to see me that way. I want to be the girl he needs—the girl who can support his political plans. The girl who can be pretty when he needs her on his arm, and who can comfort him when he’s frustrated. Except, that’s not me. You’re the one who trained me to act like a courtly woman, Saze, but we both know that I wasn’t all that good at it.”
“And Lord Venture fell in love with you,” Sazed said, “because you didn’t act like the other women. Despite Lord Kelsier’s interference, despite your knowledge that all noblemen were our enemies, Elend fell in love with you.”
“I shouldn’t have let him,” Vin said quietly. “I need to stay away from him, Saze—for his own good. That way, he can fall in love with someone else. Someone who is a better match for him. Someone who doesn’t go kill a hundred people when she gets frustrated. Someone who deserves his love.”
Sazed rose, robes swishing as he stepped to Vin’s chair. He stooped down, placing his head even with hers, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Oh, child. When will you stop worrying and simply let yourself be loved?”
Vin shook her head. “It’s not that easy.”
“Few things are. Yet, I tell you this, Lady Vin. Love must be allowed to flow both ways—if it is not, then it is not truly love, I think. It is something else. Infatuation, perhaps? Either way, there are some of us who are far too quick to make martyrs of ourselves. We stand at the side, watching, thinking that we do the right thing by inaction. We fear pain—our own, or that of another.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “But … is that love? Is it love to assume for Elend that he has no place with you? Or, is it love to let him make his own decision in the matter?”
“And if I’m wrong for him?” Vin asked.
“You must love him enough to trust his wishes, even if you disagree with them. You must respect him—no matter how wrong you think he may be, no matter how poor you think his decisions, you must respect his desire to make them. Even if one of them includes loving you.”