Mistborn: The Final Empire (Mistborn #1)(195)

Vin nodded. Keep Hasting’s destruction had been expected for some time—it had suffered a half-dozen raids from different houses during the last week. Allies withdrawing, ?nances wrecked, it was only a matter of time before it fell.

Oddly, none of the houses attacked during the daytime. There was a feigned air of secrecy about the war, as if the aristocracy acknowledged the Lord Ruler’s dominance, and didn’t want to upset him by resorting to daylight warfare. It was all handled at night, beneath a cloak of mists.

“Wasing the want of this,” Spook said.

Vin paused. “Uh, Spook. Could you try to speak…normal?”

Spook nodded toward a distant, dark structure in the distance. “The Lord Ruler. Liking he wants the ?ghting.”

Vin nodded. Kelsier was right. There hasn’t been much of an outcry from the Ministry or the palace regarding the house war, and the Garrison is taking its time getting back to Luthadel. The Lord Ruler expected the house war—and intends to let it run its course. Like a wild?re, left to blaze and renew a ?eld.

Except this time, as one ?re died, another would start— Kelsier’s attack on the city.

Assuming Marsh can ?nd out how to stop the Steel Inquisitors. Assuming we can take the palace. And, of course, assuming Kelsier can ?nd a way to deal with the Lord Ruler. .

Vin shook her head. She didn’t want to think poorly of Kelsier, but she just didn’t see how it was all going to happen. The Garrison wasn’t back yet, but reports said it was close, perhaps only a week or two out. Some noble houses were falling, but there didn’t seem to be the air of general chaos that Kelsier had wanted. The Final Empire was strained, but she doubted that it would crack.

However, maybe that wasn’t the point. The crew had done an amazing job of instigating a house war; three entire Great Houses were no more, and the rest were seriously weakened. It would take decades for the aristocracy to recover from their own squabbling.

We’ve done an amazing job, Vin decided. Even if we don’t attack the palace—or if that attack fails—we’ll have accomplished something wonderful.

With Marsh’s intelligence about the Ministry and Sazed’s translation of the logbook, the rebellion would have new and useful information for future resistance. It wasn’t what Kelsier had hoped for; it wasn’t a complete toppling of the Final Empire. However, it was a major victory—one that the skaa could look to for years as a source of courage.

And, with a start of surprise, Vin realized that she felt proud to have been part of it. Perhaps, in the future, she could help start a real rebellion—one in a place where the skaa weren’t quite so beaten down.

If such a place exists… Vin was beginning to understand that it wasn’t just Luthadel and its Soothing stations that made skaa subservient. It was everything—the obligators, the constant work in ?eld and mill, the mind-set encouraged by a thousand years of oppression. There was a reason why skaa rebellions were always so small. The people knew—or thought they knew—that there was no ?ghting against the Final Empire.

Even Vin—who’d assumed herself a “liberated” thief— had believed the same. It had taken Kelsier’s insane, over-thetop plan to convince her otherwise. Perhaps that was why he’d set such lofty goals for the crew—he’d known that only something this challenging would make them realize, in a strange way, that they could resist.

Spook glanced at her. Her presence still made him uncomfortable.

“Spook,” Vin said, “you know that Elend broke off his relationship with me.”

Spook nodded, perking up slightly.

“But,” Vin said regretfully, “I still love him. I’m sorry, Spook. But it’s true.”

He looked down, de?ating.

“It’s not you,” Vin said. “Really, it isn’t. It’s just that… well, you can’t help who you love. Trust me, there are some people I really would rather not have loved. They didn’t deserve it.”

Spook nodded. “I understand.”

“Can I still keep the handkerchief?”

He shrugged.

“Thank you,” she said. “It does mean a lot to me.”



He looked up, staring out into the mists. “I’m notting a fool. I. . knew it wasing not to happen. I see things, Vin. I see lots of things.”

She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. I see things…. An appropriate statement, for a Tineye like him.

“You’ve been an Allomancer for a long time?” she asked.

Spook nodded. “Wasing the Snap when I was ?ve. Barely even remember it.”

“And since then you’ve been practicing with tin?”

“Mostly,” he said. “Wasing a good thing for me. Letting me see, letting me hear, letting me feel.”

“Any tips you can pass on?” Vin asked hopefully.

He paused thoughtfully, sitting by the edge of the slanted rooftop, one foot dangling over the side. “Tin burning… Notting about the seeing. Wasing about the not seeing.”

Vin frowned. “What do you mean?”

“When burning,” he said, “everything comes. Lots of everything. Distractions here, there. If?ng the power of wants, ignoring the distractions of both.”

If you want to be good at burning tin, she thought, translating as best she could, learn to deal with distraction. It isn’t about what you see—it’s about what you can ignore.