Mistborn: The Final Empire (Mistborn #1)(121)

Vin jumped slightly, feeling a bit guilty. Kelsier pointed toward a carriage that was pulling onto the mansion grounds. Marsh had arrived. She walked back as the carriage pulled up, and she reached Kelsier about the same time that Marsh did.

Kelsier smiled, nodding toward Vin. “We won’t be ready to leave for a while yet,” he said to Marsh. “If you have time, could you show the kid a few things?”

Marsh turned toward her. He shared Kelsier’s lanky build and blond hair, but he wasn’t as handsome. Maybe it was the lack of a smile.

He pointed up, toward the mansion’s fore-balcony. “Wait for me up there.”

Vin opened her mouth to reply, but something about Marsh’s expression made her shut it again. He reminded her of the old times, several months ago, when she had not questioned her superiors. She turned, leaving the three, and made her way into the mansion.

It was a short trip up the stairs to the fore-balcony. When she arrived, she pulled over a chair and seated herself beside the whitewashed wooden railing. The balcony had, of course, already been scrubbed clean of ash. Below, Marsh was still speaking with Kelsier and Renoux. Beyond them, beyond even the sprawling caravan, Vin could see the barren hills outside of the city, lit by red sunlight.

Only a few months playing noblewoman, and I already ?nd anything that isn’t cultivated to be inferior. She’d never thought of the landscape as “barren” during the years she’d traveled with Reen. And Kelsier says the entire land used to be even more fertile than a nobleman’s garden.

Did he think to reclaim such things? Keepers could, perhaps, memorize languages and religions, but they couldn’t create seeds for plants that had long been extinct. They couldn’t make the ash stop falling or the mists go away. Would the world really change that much if the Final Empire were gone?

Besides, didn’t the Lord Ruler have some right to his place? He’d defeated the Deepness, or so he claimed. He’d saved the world, which—in a twisted sort of way—made it his. What right did they have to try and take it from him?

She wondered about such things often, though she didn’t express her worries to the others. They all seemed committed to Kelsier’s plan; some even seemed to share his vision. But Vin was more hesitant. She had learned, as Reen had taught, to be skeptical of optimism.

And if there were ever a plan to be hesitant about, this was the one.

However, she was getting past the point where she questioned herself. She knew the reason she stayed in the crew. It wasn’t the plan; it was the people. She liked Kelsier. She liked Dockson, Breeze, and Ham. She even liked the strange little Spook and his crotchety uncle. This was a crew unlike any other she’d worked with.

Is that a good enough reason to let them get you killed?

Reen’s voice asked.

Vin paused. She had been hearing his whispers in her mind less frequently lately, but they were still there. Reen’s teachings, drilled into her over sixteen years of life, could not be idly discarded.

Marsh arrived on the balcony a few moments later. He glanced at her with those hard eyes of his, then spoke. “Kelsier apparently expects me to spend the evening training you in Allomancy. Let us get started.”

Vin nodded.

Marsh eyed her, obviously expecting more of a response. Vin sat quietly. You’re not the only one who can be terse, friend.

“Very well,” Marsh said, sitting beside her, resting one arm on the balcony railing. His voice sounded a little less annoyed when he continued.“Kelsier says that you have spent very little time training with the internal mental abilities. Correct?”

Vin nodded again.

“I suspect that many full Mistborn neglect these powers,” Marsh said. “And that is a mistake. Bronze and copper may not be as ?ashy as other metals, but they can be very powerful in the hands of someone properly trained. The Inquisitors work through their manipulation of bronze, and the Misting underground survives because of its reliance upon copper.

“Of the two powers, bronze is by far the more subtle. I can teach you how to use it properly—if you practice what I show you, then you will have an advantage that many Mistborn dismiss.”

“But, don’t other Mistborn know to burn copper?” Vin asked. “What is the use of learning bronze if everyone you ?ght is immune to its powers?”



“I see that you already think like one of them,” Marsh said. “Not everyone is Mistborn, girl—in fact, very, very few people are. And, despite what your kind likes to think, normal Mistings can kill people too. Knowing that the man attacking you is a Thug rather than a Coinshot could very easily save your life.”

“All right,” Vin said.

“Bronze will also help you identify Mistborn,” Marsh said. “If you see someone using Allomancy when there is no Smoker nearby, and yet don’t sense them giving off Allomantic pulses, then you know that they are Mistborn—either that, or they’re an Inquisitor. In either case, you should run.”

Vin nodded silently, the wound in her side throbbing slightly.

“There are great advantages to burning bronze, rather than just running around with your copper on. True, you Smoke yourself by using copper—but in a way you also blind yourself. Copper makes you immune to having your emotions Pushed or Pulled.”

“But that’s a good thing.”

Marsh cocked his head slightly. “Oh? And what would be the greater advantage? Being immune to—but ignorant of— some Soother’s attentions? Or instead knowing—from your bronze—exactly which emotions he is trying to suppress?”