Mistborn #01 The Final Empire

side; the lord himself didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the mists—it was openly known that he was a Tineye. Venture stepped forward firmly, dueling cane tapping the ground beside him.
    “You are late, skaa!” he snapped.
    “My lord, I . . . I . . . I was waiting in the alley, my lord, like we agreed!”
    “We agreed to no such thing!”
    “I’m sorry, my lord,” Kelsier said again, bowing—then stumbling because of his “lame” leg. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was just in the alley. I didn’t mean to make you wait.”
    “Couldn’t you see us, man?”
    “I’m sorry, my lord,” Kelsier said. “My eyesight . . . it isn’t very good, you know. I can barely see my own hands in front of my face.” Thanks for the tip, Hoid.
    Venture snorted, handing his dueling cane to a guard, then slapped Kelsier smartly across the face.
    Kelsier stumbled to the ground, holding his cheek. “I’m sorry, my lord,” he mumbled again.
    “Next time you make me wait, it will be the cane,” Venture said curtly.
    Well, I know where to go next time I need a corpse to dump on someone’s lawn, Kelsier thought, stumbling to his feet.
    “Now,” Venture said. “Let us get down to business. What is this important news you promised to deliver?”
    “It’s about House Erikell, my lord,” Kelsier said. “I know Your Lordship has had dealings with them in the past.”
    “And?”
    “Well, my lord, they are cheating you dearly. They have been selling their swords and canes to House Tekiel for half the price you’ve been paying!”
    “Proof?”
    “You need only look to Tekiel’s new armaments, my lord,” Kelsier said. “My word is true. I have nothing but my reputation! If I have not that, I have not my life.”
    And he wasn’t lying. Or, at least, not completely. It would be useless of Kelsier to spread information that Venture could corroborate or dismiss with ease. Some of what he said was true—Tekiel was giving a slight advantage to Erikell. Kelsier was overstating it, of course. If he played the game well, he could start a rift between Erikell and Venture, while at the same time making Venture jealous of Tekiel. And, if Venture came to Renoux for weapons instead of Erikell . . . well, that would just be a side benefit.
    Straff Venture snorted. His house was powerful—incredibly powerful—and relied on no specific industry or enterprise to fuel its wealth. That was a very difficult position to achieve in the Final Empire, considering the Lord Ruler’s taxes and atium costs. It also made Venture a powerful tool to Kelsier. If he could give this man the right mixture of truth and fiction . . .
    “This is of little use to me,” Venture said suddenly. “Let’s see how much you really know, informant. Tell me about the Survivor of Hathsin.”
    Kelsier froze. “Excuse me, my lord?”
    “You want to get paid?” Venture asked. “Well, tell me about the Survivor. Rumors say he’s returned to Luthadel.”
    “Rumors only, my lord,” Kelsier said quickly. “I have never met this Survivor, but I doubt he is in Luthadel—if, indeed, he even lives.”
    “I’ve heard that he’s gathering a skaa rebellion.”
    “There are always fools whispering rebellion to the skaa, my lord,” Kelsier said. “And there are always those who try to use the name of the Survivor, but I do not believe that any man could have lived through the Pits. I could seek more information on this, if you wish, but I worry you will be disappointed in what I find. The Survivor is dead—the Lord Ruler . . . he does not allow such oversights.”
    “True,” Venture said contemplatively. “But the skaa seem convinced about this rumor of an ‘Eleventh Metal.’ Have you heard of it, informant?”
    “Ah, yes,” Kelsier said, covering his shock. “A legend, my lord.”
    “One I’ve never heard of,” Venture said. “And I pay very close attention to such things. This is no ‘legend.’ Someone very clever is manipulating the skaa.”
    “An . . . interesting conclusion, my lord,” Kelsier said.
    “Indeed,” Venture said. “And, assuming the Survivor did die in the Pits, and if someone had gotten ahold of his corpse . . . his bones . . . there are ways to imitate a man’s appearance. You know of what I speak?”
    “Yes, my lord,” Kelsier said.
    “Watch for this,” Venture said. “I don’t care about your gossip—bring me something about this man, or whatever he is, that leads the skaa. Then you’ll get some coin