Mistborn: The Final Empire (Mistborn #1)(35)
The guards screamed as they fell. Kelsier threw open the balcony doors, letting a wall of mist fall inward around him, its tendrils creeping forward to claim the darkened room beyond.
Third room in, Kelsier thought, moving forward in a crouching run. The second room was a quiet, greenhouse-like conservatory. Low beds containing cultivated bushes and small trees ran through the room, and one wall was made up of enormous ?oor-to-ceiling windows to provide sunlight for the plants. Though it was dark, Kelsier knew that the plants would all be of slightly different colors than the typical brown—some would be white, others ruddy, and perhaps even a few light yellow. Plants that weren’t brown were a rarity cultivated and kept by the nobility.
Kelsier moved quickly through the conservatory. He paused at the next doorway, noting its lighted outline. He extinguished his tin lest his enhanced eyes be blinded when he entered the lit room, and threw open the door.
He ducked inside, blinking against the light, a glass dagger in each hand. The room, however, was empty. It was obviously a study; a lantern burned on each wall beside bookcases, and it had a desk in the corner.
Kelsier replaced his knives, burning steel and searching for sources of metal. There was a large safe in the corner of the room, but it was too obvious. Sure enough, another strong source of metal shone from inside the eastern wall. Kelsier approached, running his ?ngers along the plaster. Like many walls in noble keeps, this one was painted with a soft mural. Foreign creatures lounged beneath a red sun. The false section of wall was under two feet square, and it had been placed so that its cracks were obscured by the mural.
There’s always another secret, Kelsier thought. He didn’t bother trying to ?gure out how to open the contraption. He simply burned steel, reaching in and tugging against the weak source of metal that he assumed was the trapdoor’s locking mechanism. It resisted at ?rst, pulling him against the wall, but he burned pewter and yanked harder. The lock snapped, and the panel swung open, revealing a small safe embedded in the wall.
Kelsier smiled. It looked small enough for a pewter-enhanced man to carry, assuming he could get it out of the wall.
He jumped up, Ironpulling against the safe, and landed with his feet against the wall, one foot on either side of the open panel. He continued to Pull, holding himself in place, and ?ared his pewter. Strength ?ooded his legs, and he ?ared his steel as well, Pulling against the safe.
He strained, grunting slightly at the exertion. It was a test to see which would give out ?rst—the safe, or his legs.
The safe shifted in its mountings. Kelsier Pulled harder, muscles protesting. For an extended moment, nothing happened. Then the safe shook and ripped free of the wall. Kelsier fell backward, burning steel and Pushing against the safe to get out of the way. He landed maladroitly, sweat dripping from his brow as the safe crashed to the wooden ?oor, throwing up splinters.
A pair of startled guards burst into the room.
“About time,” Kelsier noted, raising a hand and Pulling on one of the soldier’s swords. It whipped out of the sheath, spinning in the air and streaking toward Kelsier point-?rst. He extinguished his iron, stepping to the side and catching the sword by its hilt as momentum carried it past.
“Mistborn!” the guard screamed.
Kelsier smiled and jumped forward.
The guard pulled out a dagger. Kelsier Pushed it, tearing the weapon out of the man’s hand, then swung, shearing the guard’s head from his body. The second guard cursed, tugging free the release tie on his breastplate.
Kelsier Pushed on his own sword even as he completed his swing. The sword ripped from his ?ngers and hissed directly toward the second guard. The man’s armor dropped free— preventing Kelsier from Pushing against it—just as the ?rst guard’s corpse fell to the ground. A moment later, Kelsier’s sword planted itself in the second guard’s now unarmored chest. The man stumbled quietly, then collapsed.
Kelsier turned from the bodies, cloak rustling. His anger was quiet, not as ?erce as it had been the night he’d killed Lord Tresting. But he felt it still, felt it in the itching of his scars and in the remembered screams of the woman he loved. As far as Kelsier was concerned, any man who upheld the Final Empire also forfeited his right to live.
He ?ared his pewter, strengthening his body, then squatted down and lifted the safe. He teetered for a second beneath its weight, then got his balance and began to shuf?e back toward the balcony. Perhaps the safe held atium; perhaps it didn’t. However, he didn’t have time to search out other options.
He was halfway through the conservatory when he heard footsteps from behind. He turned to see the study ?ooding with ?gures. There were eight of them, each one wearing a loose gray robe and carrying a dueling cane and a shield instead of a sword. Hazekillers.
Kelsier let the safe drop to the ground. Hazekillers weren’t Allomancers, but they were trained to ?ght Mistings and Mistborn. There wouldn’t be a single bit of metal on their bodies, and they would be ready for his tricks.
Kelsier stepped back, stretching and smiling. The eight men fanned into the study, moving with quiet precision.
This should be interesting.
The hazekillers attacked, dashing by twos into the conservatory. Kelsier pulled out his daggers, ducking beneath the ?rst attack and slicing at a man’s chest. The hazekiller jumped back, however, and forced Kelsier away with a swing of his cane.
Kelsier ?ared his pewter, letting strengthened legs carry him back in a powerful jump. With one hand, he whipped out a handful of coins and Pushed them against his opponents. The metal disks shot forward, zipping through the air, but his enemies were ready for this: They raised their shields, and the coins bounced off the wood, throwing up splinters but leaving the men unharmed.