The Mistborn Trilogy (220 page)

“Come on,” she said, rising. “Once we get into the party, we shouldn’t have to worry about him.”

Elend nodded, and the two continued along their path to the Canton of Resource.

The plan is simple,
Elend had said just hours before.
I’ll confront Yomen, and the nobility won’t be able to help gathering around to gawk. At that point, you sneak away and see if you can find your way to the storage chamber.

It really was a simple plan—the best ones usually were. If Elend confronted Yomen, it would keep the attention of the guards on him, hopefully letting Vin slip out. She’d have to move quickly and quietly, and would probably have to eliminate some guards—all without raising an alarm. Yet, this appeared to be the only way in. Not only was Yomen’s fortress-like building well lit and extremely well guarded, but his Mistborn was good. The man had detected her every other time she’d tried to sneak in—always remaining at a distance, his mere presence warning her that he could raise the alarm in a heartbeat.

Their best chance was the ball. Yomen’s defenses, and his Mistborn, would be focused on their master, keeping him safe.

They landed in the courtyard, causing carriages to stop and guards to turn in shock. Vin glanced to Elend in the misty darkness. “Elend,” she said quietly, “I need you to promise me something.”

He frowned. “What?”

“Eventually, I’m going to get spotted,” Vin said. “I’ll sneak as best I can, but I doubt we’ll get through this without creating a disturbance. When it hits, I want you to get out.”

“Vin, I can’t do that. I have to—”

“No,” Vin said sharply. “Elend, you don’t have to help me. You
can’t
help me. I love you, but you’re just not as good at this as I am. I can take care of myself, but I need to know that I won’t have to take care of you, too. If anything goes wrong—or, if things go right, but the building goes on alert—I want you to get out. I’ll meet you at the camp.”

“And if you get into trouble?” Elend said.

Vin smiled. “Trust me.”

He paused, then nodded. Trusting her was one thing he could obviously do—something he’d always done.

The two strode forward. It felt very strange to be attending a ball at a Ministry
building. Vin was accustomed to stained glass and ornamentation, but Canton offices were generally austere—and this one was no exception. It was only a single story tall, and it had sharp, flat walls with very small windows. No limelights illuminated the outside, and while a couple of large tapestry banners fluttered against the stonework, the only indication that this night was special was the cluster of carriages and nobility in the courtyard. The soldiers in the area had noted Vin and Elend, but made no move to engage—or even slow—them.

Those watching—both nobility and soldiers—were interested, but few of them looked surprised. Vin and Elend were expected. Vin’s hunch about that was confirmed when she moved up the steps, and nobody moved to intercept them. The guards at the door watched suspiciously, but let her and Elend pass.

Inside, she found a long entry hall, lit by lamps. The flow of people turned left, so Vin and Elend followed, twisting through a few labyrinthine corridors until they approached a larger meeting hall.

“Not exactly the most impressive place for a ball, eh?” Elend said as they waited their turn to be announced.

Vin nodded. Most noble keeps had exterior entrances directly into their ballroom. The room ahead—from what she could see of it—had been adapted from a standard Ministry meeting room. Rivets covered the floor where benches had once been, and there was a stage on the far side of the room, where obligators had probably once stood to give instruction to their subordinates. This was where Yomen’s table had been set up.

It was too small to be a truly practical ballroom. The people inside weren’t cramped, exactly, but neither did they have the space the nobility preferred for forming separate little groups where they could gossip.

“Looks like there are other party rooms,” Elend said, nodding to several corridors leading from the main “ballroom.” People were trailing in and out of them.

“Places for people to go if they feel too crowded,” Vin said. “This is going to be a tough place to escape, Elend. Don’t let yourself get cornered. Looks like an exit over there to the left.”

Elend followed her gaze as they walked into the main room. Flickering torchlight and trails of mist indicated a courtyard or atrium. “I’ll stay close to it,” he said. “And avoid going to any of the smaller side rooms.”

“Good,” Vin said. She also noted something else—twice during the trip through the corridors to the ballroom, she’d seen stairwells leading down. That implied a fairly large basement, something uncommon back in Luthadel.
The Canton building goes down, rather than up,
she decided. It made sense, assuming that there really was a storage cache below.

The door herald announced them without needing a card to read from, and the two entered the room. The party was nowhere near as lavish as the one at Keep Orielle had been. There were snacks, but no dinner—likely because there wasn’t room for dining tables. There was music and dancing, but the room was not draped in finery. Yomen had elected to leave the simple, stark Ministry walls uncovered.

“I wonder why he even bothers to hold balls,” Vin whispered.

“He probably had to start them,” Elend said. “To prompt the other nobility. Now he’s part of the rotation. It’s smart of him, though. It gives a man some measure of power to be able to draw the nobility into his home and be their host.”

Vin nodded, then eyed the dance floor. “One dance before we split up?”

Elend wavered. “To tell you the truth, I feel a bit too nervous.”

Vin smiled, then kissed him lightly, completely breaking noble protocol. “Give me about an hour before the distraction. I want to get a feel for the party before I sneak away.”

He nodded, and they split, Elend heading directly for a group of men that Vin didn’t recognize. Vin herself kept moving. She didn’t want to get bogged down by conversation, so she avoided the women she recognized from Keep Orielle. She knew that she should probably have worked to reinforce her contacts, but the truth was that she felt a little bit of what Elend did. Not truly nervousness, but rather a desire to avoid typical ball activities. She wasn’t here to mingle. She had more important tasks to be concerned with.

So, she meandered through the ballroom, sipping a cup of wine and studying the guards. There were a lot of them, which was probably good. The more guards there were in the ballroom, the fewer there would be in the rest of the building. Theoretically.

Vin kept moving, nodding to people, but withdrawing anytime one of them tried to make conversation with her. If she had been Yomen, she would have ordered a few particular soldiers to keep watch on her, just to make certain that she didn’t stray anywhere sensitive. Yet, none of the men seemed to be all that focused on her. As the hour passed, she grew more and more frustrated. Was Yomen really so incompetent that he wouldn’t keep watch on a known Mistborn who entered his home base?

Annoyed, Vin burned bronze. Perhaps there were Allomancers nearby. She nearly jumped in shock when she felt the Allomantic pulsings coming from just beside her.

There were two of them. Courtly puffs—women whose names she didn’t know, but who looked distinctly dismissible. That was probably the idea. They stood chatting with a couple of other women a short distance from Vin. One was burning copper, the other was burning tin—Vin would never have picked them out if she hadn’t had the ability to pierce copperclouds.

As Vin drifted through the room, the two followed, moving with an impressive level of skill as they slid in and out of conversations. They always stuck close enough to Vin to be within tin-enhanced hearing range, yet stayed far enough away in the relatively crowded room that Vin would never have picked them out without Allomantic help.

Interesting,
she thought, moving toward the perimeter of the room. At least Yomen wasn’t underestimating her. But now, how to give the women the slip? They wouldn’t be distracted by Elend’s disturbance, and they certainly wouldn’t let Vin sneak away without raising an alarm.

As she wandered, working on the problem, she noted a familiar figure sitting at the edge of the ballroom. Slowswift sat in his usual suit, smoking his pipe as he
relaxed in one of the chairs set out for the elderly or the overdanced. She trailed over toward him.

“I thought you didn’t come to these things,” she noted, smiling. Behind, her two shadows expertly worked their way into a conversation a short distance away.

“I only come when my king holds them,” Slowswift said.

“Ah,” Vin said, then she drifted away. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted Slowswift frowning. He’d obviously expected her to speak to him further, but she couldn’t risk his saying anything incriminating. At least, not yet. Her tails extricated themselves from their conversation, the speed of Vin’s departure forcing them to do so awkwardly. After walking for a bit, Vin paused, giving the women the chance to get themselves into yet another conversation.

Then, Vin spun and walked quickly back to Slowswift, trying to look as if she’d just remembered something. Her tails, intent on looking natural, had trouble following. They hesitated, and Vin gained just a few short breaths of freedom.

She leaned down to Slowswift as she passed. “I need two men,” she said. “Ones you trust against Yomen. Have them meet me in a part of the party that is more secluded, a place where people can sit and chat.”

“The patio,” Slowswift said. “Down the left corridor, then outside.”

“Good,” Vin said. “Tell your men to go there, but then wait until I approach them. Also, please send a messenger to Elend. Tell him I need another half hour.”

Slowswift nodded to the cryptic comment, and Vin smiled as her shadows trailed closer. “I hope you feel better soon,” she said, putting on a fond smile.

“Thank you, my dear,” Slowswift said, coughing slightly.

Vin trailed away again. She slowly made her way in the direction Slowswift had indicated, the exit she’d picked out earlier. Sure enough, a few moments later she passed into mist.
The mist vanishes inside buildings, eventually,
Vin thought.
Everyone always assumes it has something to do with heat, or perhaps the lack of airflow. . . .

In a few seconds, she found herself standing on a lantern-lit garden patio. Though tables had been set up for people to relax, the patio was sparsely populated. Servants wouldn’t go out in the mists, and most nobility—though they didn’t like to admit it—found the mists disconcerting. Vin wandered over to an ornate metal railing, then leaned against it, looking up at the sky, feeling the mists around her and idly fingering her earring.

Soon, her two shadows appeared, chatting quietly, and Vin’s tin let her hear that they were talking about how stuffy the other room had been. Vin smiled, maintaining her posture as the two women took chairs a distance away, continuing to chat. After that, two young men wandered in and sat down at another table. They weren’t as natural about the process as the women, but Vin hoped they weren’t suspicious enough to draw attention.

Then, she waited.

Life as a thief—a life spent preparing for jobs, watching in spy holes, and carefully choosing just the right opportunity to pick a pocket—had taught her patience. It was one urchin attribute she had never lost. She stood, staring at the sky, giving no indication at all that she intended to leave. Now, she simply had to wait for the distraction.

You shouldn’t have relied on him for the distraction,
Reen whispered in her mind.
He’ll fail. Never let your life depend on the competence of someone whose life isn’t also on the line.

It had been one of Reen’s favorite sayings. She didn’t think of him very often, anymore—or, really, anyone from her old life. That life had been one of pain and sorrow. A brother who beat her to keep her safe, a crazy mother who had inexplicably slaughtered Vin’s baby sister.

However, that life was only a faint echo, now. She smiled to herself, amused at how far she had come. Reen might have called her a fool, but she trusted Elend—trusted him to succeed, trusted him with her life. That was something she could never have done during her early years.

After about ten minutes, someone came out from the party and wandered over to the pair of women. He spoke with them just briefly, then returned to the party. Another man came twenty minutes after that, doing the same thing. Hopefully, the women were passing on the information Vin wished: that Vin had apparently decided to spend an indeterminate amount of time outside, staring at the mists. Those inside wouldn’t expect her to return anytime soon.

A few moments after the second messenger returned to the party, a man rushed out and approached one of the tables. “You have to come hear this!” he whispered to the people at the table—the only ones currently on the patio who had nothing to do with Vin. That group left. Vin smiled. Elend’s distraction had come.

Vin jumped into the air, then Pushed against the railing beside her, launching herself across the patio.

The women had obviously grown bored, chatting idly to themselves. It took them a few moments to notice Vin’s movement. In those moments, Vin shot across the now-empty patio, dress flapping as she flew. One of the women opened her mouth to yell.