Mistborn: The Final Empire (Mistborn #1)(57)

Vin shivered again. “Do people know about these things? I mean, other than the legends?”

“What do you mean by ‘people’?” Kelsier asked. “A lot of Allomancers know about them, and I’m sure the Ministry does. Regular people…well, they just don’t go out at night. Most skaa fear and curse mistwraiths, but go their entire lives without actually seeing one.”

“Lucky for them,” Vin muttered. “Why doesn’t someone do something about these things?”

Kelsier shrugged. “They’re not that dangerous.”

“That one has a human head!”

“It probably found a corpse,” Kelsier said. “I’ve never heard of a mistwraith attacking a full-grown, healthy adult. That’s probably why everyone leaves them alone. And, of course, the high nobility have devised their own uses for the creatures.”

Vin looked at him questioningly, but he said no more, rising and walking down the hillside. She shot one more glance at the unnatural creature, then took off, following Kelsier.

“Is that what you brought me out here to see?” Vin asked.

Kelsier chuckled. “Mistwraiths might look eerie, but they’re hardly worth such a long trip. No, we’re heading over there.”

She followed his gesture, and was able to make out a change in the landscape ahead. “The imperial highroad? We’ve circled around to the front of the city.”

Kelsier nodded. After a short walk—during which Vin glanced backward no less than three times to make certain the mistwraith hadn’t gained on them—they left the scrub and stepped onto the ?at, packed earth of the imperial highroad. Kelsier paused, scanning the road in either direction. Vin frowned, wondering what he was doing.

Then she saw the carriage. It was parked by the side of the highroad, and Vin could see that there was a man waiting beside it.

“Ho, Sazed,” Kelsier said, walking forward.

The man bowed. “Master Kelsier,” he said, his smooth voice carrying well in the night air. It had a higher pitch to it, and he spoke with an almost melodic accent. “I almost thought that you had decided not to come.”

“You know me, Saze,” Kelsier said, jovially slapping the man on the shoulder. “I’m the soul of punctuality.” He turned and waved a hand toward Vin. “This apprehensive little creature is Vin.”

“Ah, yes,” Sazed said, speaking in a slow, well-enunciated way. There was something strange about his accent. Vin approached cautiously, studying the man. Sazed had a long, ?at face and a willowy body. He was even taller than Kelsier— tall enough to be a bit abnormal—and his arms were unusually long.

“You’re a Terrisman,” Vin said. His earlobes had been stretched out, and the ears themselves contained studs that ran around their perimeter. He wore the lavish, colorful robes of a Terris steward—the garments were made of embroidered, overlapping V shapes, alternating among the three colors of his master’s house.

“Yes, child,” Sazed said, bowing. “Have you known many of my people?”

“None,” Vin said. “But I know that the high nobility prefer Terrismen stewards and attendants.”

“Indeed they do, child,” Sazed said. He turned to Kelsier. “We should go, Master Kelsier. It is late, and we are still an hour away from Fellise.”

Fellise, Vin thought. So, we’re going to see the impostor Lord Renoux.

Sazed opened the carriage door for them, then closed it after they climbed in. Vin settled on one of the plush seats as she heard Sazed climb atop the vehicle and set the horses in motion.

Kelsier sat quietly in the carriage. The window shades were closed against the mist, and a small lantern, half shielded, hung in the corner. Vin rode on the seat directly across from him—her legs tucked up underneath her, her enveloping mistcloak pulled close, hiding her arms and legs.

She always does that, Kelsier thought. Wherever she is, she tries to be as small and unnoticeable as possible. So tense. Vin didn’t sit, she crouched. She didn’t walk, she prowled. Even when she was sitting in the open, she seemed to be trying to hide.

She’s a brave one, though. During his own training, Kelsier hadn’t been quite so willing to throw himself off of a city wall—old Gemmel had been forced to push him.

Vin watched him with those quiet, dark eyes of hers. When she noticed his attention, she glanced away, huddling down a little more within her cloak. Unexpectedly, however, she spoke.

“Your brother,” she said in her soft near-whisper of a voice. “You two don’t get along very well.”

Kelsier raised an eyebrow. “No. We never have, really. It’s a shame. We should, but we just. . don’t.”

“He’s older than you?”

Kelsier nodded.

“Did he beat you often?” Vin asked.

Kelsier frowned. “Beat me? No, he didn’t beat me at all.”

“You stopped him, then?” Vin said. “Maybe that’s why he doesn’t like you. How did you escape? Did you run, or were you just stronger than him?”

“Vin, Marsh never tried to beat me. We argued, true—but we never really wanted to hurt one another.”

Vin didn’t contradict him, but he could see in her eyes that she didn’t believe him.

What a life… Kelsier thought, falling silent. There were so many children like Vin in the underground. Of course, most died before reaching her age. Kelsier had been one of the lucky ones: His mother had been a resourceful mistress of a high nobleman, a clever woman who had managed to hide the fact that she was skaa from her lord. Kelsier and Marsh had grown up privileged—considered illegitimate, but still noble—until their father had ?nally discovered the truth.