Mistborn #02 The Well of Ascension

can accommodate a lot of motion."
    And it was a not-so-subtle smack in the face of Elend Venture, and nobility in general, to use such a beautiful chamber as a setting from which to run a war. No wonder he supported me in sending Elend and Vin away. With them gone, he's gained undisputed control of Kelsier's crew .
    It wasn't a bad thing. Dockson was an organizational genius and a master of quick planning. He did have certain prejudices, however.
    "I know you don't like to fight, Saze," Dockson said, leaning down on the table with both hands. "But we need you."
    "I think he is preparing for battle, Lord Dockson," Tindwyl said, eyeing Sazed. "Those rings on his fingers give good indication of his intentions."
    Sazed glanced across the table at her. "And what is your place in this, Tindwyl?"
    "Lord Dockson came to me for advice," Tindwyl said. "He has little experience with warfare himself, and wished to know the things I have studied about the generals of the past."
    "Ah," Sazed said. He turned to Dockson, frowning in thought. Eventually, he nodded. "Very well. I will take part in your project—but, I must warn you against divisiveness. Please, tell your men not to break the chain of command unless they absolutely must."
    Dockson nodded.
    "Now, Lady Tindwyl," Sazed said. "Might we speak for a moment in private?"
    She nodded, and they excused themselves, walking under the nearest overhanging gallery. In the shadows, behind one of the pillars, Sazed turned toward Tindwyl. She looked so pristine—so poised, so calm—despite the dire situation. How did she do that?
    "You're storing quite a large number of attributes, Sazed," Tindwyl noted, glancing at his fingers again. "Surely you have other metalminds prepared from before?"
    "I used all of my wakefulness and speed making my way to Luthadel," Sazed said. "And I have no health stored at all—I used up the last of it overcoming a sickness when I was teaching in the South. I always intended to fill another one, but we've been too busy. I do have some large amount of strength and weight stored, as well as a good selection of tinminds. Still, one can never be too well prepared, I think."
    "Perhaps," Tindwyl said. She glanced back at the group around the table. "If it gives us something to do other than think about the inevitable, then preparation has not been wasted, I think."
    Sazed felt a chill. "Tindwyl," he said quietly. "Why did you stay? There is no place for you here."
    "There is no place for you either, Sazed."
    "These are my friends," he said. "I will not leave them."
    "Then why did you convince their leaders to leave?"
    "To flee and live," Sazed said.
    "Survival is not a luxury often afforded to leaders," Tindwyl said. "When they accept the devotion of others, they must accept the responsibility that comes with it. This people will die—but they need not die feeling betrayed."
    "They were not—"
    "They expect to be saved, Sazed," Tindwyl hissed quietly. "Even those men over there—even Dockson , the most practical one in this bunch—think that they'll survive. And do you know why? Because, deep down, they believe that something will save them. Something that saved them before, the only piece of the Survivor they have left. She represents hope to them now. And you sent her away."
    "To live, Tindwyl," Sazed repeated. "It would have been a waste to lose Vin and Elend here."
    "Hope is never wasted," Tindwyl said, eyes flashing. "I thought you of all people would understand that. You think it was stubbornness that kept me alive all those years in the hands of the Breeders?"
    "And is it stubbornness or hope that kept you here, in the city?" he asked.
    She looked up at him. "Neither."
    Sazed looked at her for a long moment in the shadowed alcove. Planners talked in the ballroom, their voices echoing. Shards of light from the windows reflected off the marble floors, throwing slivers of illumination across the walls. Slowly, awkwardly, Sazed put his arms around Tindwyl. She sighed, letting him hold her.
    He released his tinminds and let his senses return in a flood.
    Softness from her skin and warmth from her body washed across him as she moved farther into the embrace, resting her head against his chest. The scent of her hair—unperfumed, but clean and crisp—filled his nose, the first thing he'd smelled in three days. With a clumsy hand, Sazed pulled free his spectacles so he could see her clearly. As sounds returned fully to his ears, he could hear Tindwyl