Mistborn #01 The Final Empire

has the . . . poise to imitate a noblewoman, even a young and inexperienced one. We’ve done practice dinners, gone over conversational etiquette, and memorized gossip. She seems skilled at it all, in a controlled situation. She’s even done well sitting in on tea meetings when Renoux entertains noble guests. However, we won’t really be able to tell if she can do this until we put her alone in a party full of aristocrats.”
    “I wish she could practice some more,” Kelsier said with a shake of his head. “But every week we spend preparing increases the chances that the Ministry will discover our budding army in the caves.”
    “It is a test of balance, then,” Sazed said. “We must wait long enough to gather the men we need, yet move soon enough to avoid discovery.”
    Kelsier nodded. “We can’t pause for one crewmember—we’ll have to find someone else to be our mole if Vin does badly. Poor girl—I wish I had time to train her better in Allomancy. We’ve barely covered the first four metals. I just don’t have enough time !”
    “If I might make a suggestion . . .”
    “Of course, Saze.”
    “Send the child with some of the Misting crewmembers,” Sazed said. “I hear that the man Breeze is a very accomplished Soother, and surely the others are equally skilled. Let them show Mistress Vin how to use her abilities.”
    Kelsier paused thoughtfully. “That’s a good idea, Saze.”
    “But?”
    Kelsier glanced back toward the door, beyond which Vin was still petulantly getting her haircut. “I’m not sure. Today, when we were training, we got into a Steelpush shoving match. The kid has to weigh less than half what I do, but she gave me a decent pummeling anyway.”
    “Different people have different strengths in Allomancy,” Sazed said.
    “Yes, but the variance isn’t usually this great,” Kelsier said. “Plus, it took me months and months to learn how to manipulate my Pushes and Pulls. It’s not as easy as it sounds—even something as simple as Pushing yourself up onto a rooftop requires an understanding of weight, balance, and trajectory.
    “But Vin . . . she seems to know all these things instinctively. True, she can only use the first four metals with any skill, but the progress she’s made is amazing.”
    “She is a special girl.”
    Kelsier nodded. “She deserves more time to learn about her powers. I feel a little guilty about pulling her into our plans. She’ll probably end up at a Ministry execution ceremony with the rest of us.”
    “But that guilt won’t stop you from using her to spy on the aristocracy.”
    Kelsier shook his head. “No,” he said quietly. “It won’t. We’ll need every advantage we can get. Just . . . watch over her, Saze. From now on, you’ll act as Vin’s steward and guardian at the functions she attends—it won’t be odd for her to bring a Terrisman servant with her.”
    “Not at all,” Sazed agreed. “In fact, it would be strange to send a girl her age to courtly functions without an escort.”
    Kelsier nodded. “Protect her, Saze. She might be a powerful Allomancer, but she’s inexperienced. I’ll feel a lot less guilty about sending her into those aristocratic dens if I know you’re with her.”
    “I will protect her with my life, Master Kelsier. I promise you this.”
    Kelsier smiled, resting a thankful hand on Sazed’s shoulder. “I feel pity for the man who gets in your way.”
    Sazed bowed his head humbly. He looked innocuous, but Kelsier knew the strength that Sazed hid. Few men, Allomancers or not, would fare well in a fight with a Keeper whose anger had been roused. That was probably why the Ministry had hunted the sect virtually to extinction.
    “All right,” Kelsier said. “Get back to your teaching. Lord Venture is throwing a ball at the end of the week, and—ready or not—Vin is going to be there.”

----
It amazes me how many nations have united behind our purpose. There are still dissenters, of course—and some kingdoms, regrettably, have fallen to wars that I could not stop.
Still, this general unity is glorious, even humbling, to contemplate. I wish that the nations of mankind hadn’t required such a dire threat to make them see the value of peace and cooperation.

    10

    V IN WALKED ALONG A STREET in the Cracks—one of Luthadel’s many skaa slums—with her hood up. For some reason, she found the muffled heat of a hood preferable to the oppressive red sunlight.
    She walked with a slouch, eyes down,