Mistborn #02 The Well of Ascension

asleep, and none of us knew what he was doing. I don't think he managed to persuade the creatures not to attack, but he did come back with some very useful information .
    OreSeur sat on his haunches beside her. He had not asked why Vin had come to Elend's rooms, nor why she stood, quietly watching the former king in the night.
    She couldn't protect him. She tried so hard, but the impossibility of keeping even one person safe suddenly seemed so real—so tangible—to her that she felt sick.
    Elend had been right to go out. He was his own man, competent, kingly. What he had done would only put him in more danger, however. Fear had been a companion of hers for such a long time that she had grown accustomed to it, and it rarely caused a physical reaction in her. Yet, watching him sleep quietly, she found her hands traitorously unsteady.
    I saved him from the assassins. I protected him. I'm a powerful Allomancer. Why, then, do I feel so helpless?
    So alone .
    She walked forward, bare feet silent as she stepped up to Elend's bed. He did not wake. She stood for a long moment, just looking at him peaceful in his slumber.
    OreSeur growled quietly.
    Vin spun. A figure stood on the balcony, straight-backed and black, a near silhouette even to her tin-enhanced eyes. Mist fell before him, pooling on the floor, spreading out like an ethereal moss.
    "Zane," she whispered.
    "He is not safe, Vin," he said, stepping slowly into the room, pushing a wave of mist before him.
    She looked back at Elend. "He never will be."
    "I came to tell you that there is a traitor in your midst."
    Vin looked up. "Who?" she asked.
    "The man, Demoux," Zane said. "He contacted my father a short time before the assassination attempt, offering to open the gates and give up the city."
    Vin frowned. That makes no sense .
    Zane stepped forward. "Cett's work, Vin. He is a snake, even among high lords. I don't know how he bribed away one of your own men, but I do know that Demoux tried to provoke my father to attack the city during the voting."
    Vin paused. If Straff had attacked at that moment, it would have reinforced the impression that he had sent the assassins in the first place.
    "Elend and Penrod were supposed to die," Zane said. "With the Assembly in chaos, Cett could have taken charge. He could have led his forces—along with your own—against Straff's attacking army. He would have become the savior who protected Luthadel against the tyranny of an invader. . .."
    Vin stood quietly. Just because Zane said it didn't mean it was true. Yet, her investigations whispered that Demoux was the traitor.
    She'd recognized the assassin at the assembly, and he had been from Cett's retinue, so she knew that Zane was telling the truth about at least one thing. Plus, Cett had precedent for sending Allomancer assassins: he had sent the ones months ago, when Vin had used the last of her atium. Zane had saved her life during that fight.
    She clenched her fists, frustration biting at her chest. If he's right, then Demoux is dead, and an enemy kandra has been in the palace, spending his days just steps away from Elend. Even if Zane lies, we still have a tyrant inside the city, another without. A force of koloss salivating over the people. And Elend doesn't need me .
    Because there's nothing I can do .
    "I see your frustration," Zane whispered, stepping up beside Elend's bed, looking down at his sleeping brother. "You keep listening to him. You want to protect him, but he won't let you." Zane looked up, meeting her eyes. She saw an implication in them.
    There was something she could do—the thing a part of her had wanted to do from the beginning. The thing she'd been trained to do.
    "Cett almost killed the man you love," Zane said. "Your Elend does as he wishes. Well, let us do as you wish." He looked into her eyes. "We have been someone else's knives for too long. Let's show Cett why he should fear us."
    Her fury, her frustration at the siege, yearned to do as Zane suggested. Yet, she wavered, her thoughts in chaos. She had killed—killed well—just a short time before, and it had terrified her. Yet. . .Elend could take risks—insane risks, traveling into an army of koloss on his own. It almost felt like a betrayal. She had worked so hard to protect him, straining herself, exposing herself. Then, just a few days later, he wandered alone into a camp full of monsters.
    She gritted her teeth. Part of her whispered that if Elend wouldn't be reasonable and stay out of