Mistborn #01 The Final Empire

a group of guard officers. Elend could tell from the pale faces that they had received a firm scolding, perhaps even threats of beatings. They were noblemen, so Venture couldn’t execute them, but he was very fond of the more brutal disciplinary forms.
    Lord Venture dismissed the soldiers with a sharp gesture, then turned to Elend with hostile eyes. Elend frowned, watching the soldiers go. Everything all seemed a little too . . . tense.
    “Well?” Lord Venture demanded.
    “Well what?”
    “Where have you been?”
    “Oh, I left,” Elend said offhandedly.
    Lord Venture sighed. “Fine. Endanger yourself if you wish, boy. In a way, it’s too bad that Mistborn didn’t catch you—they could have saved me a great deal of frustration.”
    “Mistborn?” Elend asked, frowning. “What Mistborn?”
    “The one that was planning to assassinate you,” Lord Venture snapped.
    Elend blinked in startlement. “So . . . it wasn’t just a spying team?”
    “Oh, no,” Venture said, smiling somewhat wickedly. “An entire assassination team, sent here after you and your friends.”
    Lord Ruler! Elend thought, realizing how foolish he had been to go out alone. I didn’t expect the house war to get so dangerous so quickly! At least, not for me . . .
    “How do we know it was a Mistborn?” Elend asked, gathering his wits.
    “Our guards managed to kill her,” Straff said. “As she was fleeing.”
    Elend frowned. “A full Mistborn? Killed by common soldiers?”
    “Archers,” Lord Venture said. “Apparently, they took her by surprise.”
    “And the man who fell through my skylight?” Elend asked.
    “Dead,” Lord Venture said. “Broken neck.”
    Elend frowned. That man was still alive when we fled. What are you hiding, Father? “The Mistborn. Anyone I know?”
    “I’d say so,” Lord Venture said, settling into his desk chair, not looking up. “It was Shan Elariel.”
    Elend froze in shock. Shan? he thought, dumbfounded. They’d been engaged, and she’d never even mentioned that she was an Allomancer. That probably meant . . .
    She’d been a plant all along. Perhaps House Elariel had planned to have Elend killed once an Elariel grandson was born to the house title.
    You’re right, Jastes. I can’t avoid politics by ignoring it. I’ve been a part of it all for much longer than I assumed.
    His father was obviously pleased with himself. A high-profile member of House Elariel was dead on Venture grounds after trying to assassinate Elend. . . . With such a triumph, Lord Venture would be insufferable for days.
    Elend sighed. “Did we capture any of the assassins alive, then?”
    Straff shook his head. “One fell to the courtyard as he was trying to flee. He got away—he might have been Mistborn too. We found one man dead on the roof, but we aren’t sure if there were others in the team or not.” He paused.
    “What?” Elend asked, reading the slight confusion in his father’s eyes.
    “Nothing,” Straff said, waving a dismissive hand. “Some of the guards claim there was a third Mistborn, fighting the other two, but I doubt the reports—it wasn’t one of ours.”
    Elend paused. A third Mistborn, fighting the other two . . . “Maybe someone found out about the assassination and tried to stop it.”
    Lord Venture snorted. “Why would someone else’s Mistborn try to protect you ?”
    “Maybe they just wanted to stop an innocent man from being murdered.”
    Lord Venture shook his head, laughing. “You are an idiot, boy. You understand that, right?”
    Elend flushed, then turned away. It didn’t appear that Lord Venture wanted anything more, so Elend left. He couldn’t go back to his rooms, not with the broken window and the guards, so he made his way to a guest bedroom, calling for a set of hazekillers to watch outside his door and balcony—just in case.
    He prepared for bed, thinking about the conversation. His father was probably right about the third Mistborn. That just wasn’t the way things worked.
    But . . . that’s the way it should be. The way it could be, maybe.
    There were so many things Elend wished he could do. But, his father was healthy, and young for a lord of his power. It would be decades before Elend assumed the house title, assuming he even survived that long. He wished he could go to Valette, talk to her, explain his frustrations. She’d understand what he was thinking; for some reason, she always seemed to understand him better than others.
    And, she’s skaa! He