Mistborn #01 The Final Empire

obligators. The master had left me, going to investigate when the noises began. On the way out, I saw him lying in his own blood, stab wounds in his chest. The man who saved me threw a torch in the building as we left.”
    “This man,” Mennis said. “He had scars on his hands and arms, reaching past the elbows?”
    The girl nodded silently.
    “What kind of demon was that man?” one of the skaa muttered uncomfortably.
    “Mistwraith,” another whispered, apparently forgetting that Kelsier had gone out during the day.
    But he did go out into the mist, Mennis thought. And, how did he accomplish a feat like this . . .? Lord Tresting kept over two dozen soldiers! Did Kelsier have a hidden band of rebels, perhaps?
    Kelsier’s words from the night before sounded in his ears. New days are coming. . . .
    “But, what of us?” Tepper asked, terrified. “What will happen when the Lord Ruler hears this? He’ll think that we did it! He’ll send us to the Pits, or maybe just send his koloss to slaughter us outright! Why would that troublemaker do something like this? Doesn’t he understand the damage he’s done?”
    “He understands,” Mennis said. “He warned us, Tepper. He came to stir up trouble.”
    “But, why?”
    “Because he knew we’d never rebel on our own, so he gave us no choice.”
    Tepper paled.
    Lord Ruler, Mennis thought. I can’t do this. I can barely get up in the mornings—I can’t save this people.
    But what other choice was there?
    Mennis turned. “Gather the people, Tepper. We must flee before word of this disaster reaches the Lord Ruler.”
    “Where will we go?”
    “The caves to the east,” Mennis said. “Travelers say there are rebel skaa hiding in them. Perhaps they’ll take us in.”
    Tepper paled further. “But . . . we’d have to travel for days. Spend nights in the mist. ”
    “We can do that,” Mennis said, “or we can stay here and die.”
    Tepper stood frozen for a moment, and Mennis thought the shock of it all might have overwhelmed him. Eventually, however, the younger man scurried off to gather the others, as commanded.
    Mennis sighed, looking up toward the trailing line of smoke, cursing the man Kelsier quietly in his mind.
    New days indeed.

PART ONE

THE SURVIVOR
OF HATHSIN

----

I consider myself to be a man of principle. But, what man does not? Even the cutthroat, I have noticed, considers his actions “moral” after a fashion.
Perhaps another person, reading of my life, would name me a religious tyrant. He could call me arrogant. What is to make that man’s opinion any less valid than my own?
I guess it all comes down to one fact: In the end, I’m the one with the armies.

----

    1

    A SH FELL FROM THE SKY.
    Vin watched the downy flakes drift through the air. Leisurely. Careless. Free. The puffs of soot fell like black snowflakes, descending upon the dark city of Luthadel. They drifted in corners, blowing in the breeze and curling in tiny whirlwinds over the cobblestones. They seemed so uncaring. What would that be like?
    Vin sat quietly in one of the crew’s watch-holes—a hidden alcove built into the bricks on the side of the safe house. From within it, a crewmember could watch the street for signs of danger. Vin wasn’t on duty; the watch-hole was simply one of the few places where she could find solitude.
    And Vin liked solitude. When you’re alone, no one can betray you. Reen’s words. Her brother had taught her so many things, then had reinforced them by doing what he’d always promised he would—by betraying her himself. It’s the only way you’ll learn. Anyone will betray you, Vin. Anyone.
    The ash continued to fall. Sometimes, Vin imagined she was like the ash, or the wind, or the mist itself. A thing without thought, capable of simply being , not thinking, caring, or hurting. Then she could be . . . free.
    She heard shuffling a short distance away, then the trapdoor at the back of the small chamber snapped open.
    “Vin!” Ulef said, sticking his head into the room. “There you are! Camon’s been searching for you for a half hour.”
    That’s kind of why I hid in the first place.
    “You should get going,” Ulef said. “The job’s almost ready to begin.”
    Ulef was a gangly boy. Nice, after his own fashion—naive, if one who had grown up in the underworld could ever really be called “naive.” Of course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t betray her. Betrayal had nothing to do with friendship; it was a simple fact of