Mistborn #02 The Well of Ascension

moments—wreathed, as always, in the curling mists. Then he turned, jumping away into the night. Vin let him go; she had to deal with OreSeur.
    She stumbled over to him, then paused. His nondescript body—in a servant's trousers and shirt—had been pelted with coins, and blood seeped from the several wounds.
    He looked up at her. "What?" he asked.
    "I didn't expect there to be blood."
    OreSeur snorted. "You probably didn't expect me to feel pain either."
    Vin opened her mouth, then paused. Actually, she hadn't ever thought about it. Then she hardened herself. What right does this thing have to chastise me ?
    Still, OreSeur had proven useful. "Thank you for throwing me the vial," she said.
    "It was my duty, Mistress," OreSeur said, grunting as he pulled his broken body up against the side of the alleyway. "I was charged with your protection by Master Kelsier. As always, I serve the Contract."
    Ah, yes. The almighty Contract . "Can you walk?"
    "Only with effort, Mistress. The coins shattered several of these bones. I will need a new body. One of the assassins, perhaps?"
    Vin frowned. She glanced back toward the dead men, and her stomach twisted slightly at the gruesome sight of their fallen bodies. She'd killed them, eight men, with the cruel efficiency that Kelsier had trained in her.
    This is what I am , she thought. A killer, like those men . That was how it had to be. Someone had to protect Elend.
    However, the thought of OreSeur eating one of them—digesting the corpse, letting his strange kandra senses memorize the positioning of muscles, skin, and organs, so that he could reproduce them—sickened her.
    She glanced to the side, and saw the veiled scorn in OreSeur's eyes. They both knew what she thought of him eating human bodies. They both knew what he thought of her prejudice.
    "No," Vin said. "We won't use one of these men."
    "You'll have to find me another body, then," OreSeur said. "The Contract states that I cannot be forced to kill men."
    Vin's stomach twisted again. I'll think of something , she thought. His current body was that of a murderer, taken after an execution. Vin was still worried that someone in the city would recognize the face.
    "Can you get back to the palace?" Vin asked.
    "With time," OreSeur said.
    Vin nodded, dismissing him, then turned back toward the bodies. Somehow she suspected that this night would mark a distinct turning point in the fate of the Central Dominance.
    Straff's assassins had done more damage than they would ever know. That bead of atium had been her last. The next time a Mistborn attacked her, she would be exposed.
    And would likely die as easily as the Mistborn she'd slain this night.

My brethren ignore the other facts. They cannot connect the other strange things that are happening. They are deaf to my objections and blind to my discoveries .

3
    ELEND DROPPED HIS PEN TO his desk with a sigh, then leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead.
    Elend figured that he knew as much about political theory as any living man. He'd certainly read more about economics, studied more about governments, and held more political debates than anyone he knew. He understood all the theories about how to make a nation stable and fair, and had tried to implement those in his new kingdom.
    He just hadn't realized how incredibly frustrating a parliamentary council would be.
    He stood up and walked over to get himself some chilled wine. He paused, however, as he glanced out his balcony doors. In the distance, a glowing haze shone through the mists. The campfires of his father's army.
    He put down the wine. He was already exhausted, and the alcohol probably wouldn't help. I can't afford to fall asleep until I get this done ! he thought, forcing himself to return to his seat. The Assembly would meet soon, and he needed to have the proposal finished tonight.
    Elend picked up the sheet, scanning its contents. His handwriting looked cramped even to him, and the page was scattered with crossed-out lines and notations—reflections of his frustration. They'd known about the army's approach for weeks now, and the Assembly still quibbled about what to do.
    Some of its members wanted to offer a peace treaty; others thought they should simply surrender the city. Still others felt they should attack without delay. Elend feared that the surrender faction was gaining strength; hence his proposal. The motion, if passed, would buy him more time. As king, he already had prime right of parlay with