Mistborn #03 The Hero of Ages

supplies in the caches. Yet, the constant ashfall seemed to be growing even denser. If that continued, it wouldn't be long before the sky was nothing more than a solid black storm of ash.
    It just seemed so difficult to think that Vin—his wife—could do anything about the color of the sun or the falling ash. Demoux is right, he thought, tapping his fingers across the metallic letter to Lord Yomen. I'm really not a very good member of the Church of the Survivor.
    He looked across the cabin at her, sitting on the bed, expression distant as she thought about things that shouldn't have to be her burden. Even after leaping about all night, even after their days spent traveling, even with her face dirtied by ash, she was beautiful.
    At that moment, Elend realized something. Vin didn't need another person worshipping her. She didn't need another faithful believer like Demoux, especially not in Elend. He didn't need to be a good member of the Church of the Survivor. He needed to be a good husband.
    "Well, then," he said. "Let's do it."
    "What?" Vin asked.
    "Save the world," Elend said. "Stop the ash."
    Vin snorted quietly. "You make it sound like a joke."
    "No, I'm serious," he said, standing. "If this is what you feel you must do—what you feel that you are—then let's do it. I'll help however I can."
    "What about your speech before?" Vin said. "In the last storage cavern—you talked about division of labor. Me working on the mists, you working on uniting the empire."
    "I was wrong."
    Vin smiled, and suddenly Elend felt as if the world had been put back together just a bit.
    "So," Elend said, sitting on the bed beside her. "What have you got? Any thoughts?"
    Vin paused. "Yes," she said. "But I can't tell you."
    Elend frowned.
    "It's not that I don't trust you," Vin said. "It's Ruin. In the last storage cavern, I found a second inscription on the plate, down near the bottom. It warned me that anything I speak—or that I write—will be known by our enemy. So, if we talk too much, he will know our plans."
    "That makes it a bit difficult to work on the problem together."
    Vin took his hands. "Elend, do you know why I finally agreed to marry you?"
    Elend shook his head.
    "Because I realized that you trusted me," Vin said. "Trusted me as nobody ever has before. On that night, when I fought Zane, I decided that I had to give my trust to you. This force that's destroying the world, we have something that it can never understand. I don't necessarily need your help; I need your trust. Your hope. It's something I've never had of myself, and I rely on yours."
    Elend nodded slowly. "You have it."
    "Thank you."
    "You know," Elend added, "during those days when you refused to marry me, I constantly thought about how strange you were."
    She raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's romantic."
    Elend smiled. "Oh, come on. You have to admit that you're unusual, Vin. You're like some strange mixture of a noblewoman, a street urchin, and a cat. Plus, you've managed—in our short three years together—to kill not only my god, but my father, my brother, and my fiancée. That's kind of like a homicidal hat trick. It's a strange foundation for a relationship, wouldn't you say?"
    Vin just rolled her eyes.
    "I'm just glad I don't have any other close relatives," Elend said. Then, he eyed her. "Except for you, of course."
    "I'm not about to drown myself, if that's what you're getting at."
    "No," Elend said. "I'm sorry. I'm just . . . well, you know. Anyway, I was explaining something. In the end, I stopped worrying about how strange you seemed. I realized that it didn't really matter if I understood you, because I trusted you. Does that make sense? Either way, I guess I'm saying that I agree. I don't really know what you're doing, and I don't have any clue how you're going to achieve it. But, well, I trust that you'll do it."
    Vin pulled close to him.
    "I just wish there were something I could do to help," Elend said.
    "Then take the whole numbers part," Vin said, frowning distastefully. Though she'd been the one to think something was odd about the percentages of those who fell to the mists, Elend knew that she found numbers troublesome. She didn't have the training, or the practice, to deal with them.
    "You're sure that's even related?" Elend asked.
    "You were the one who thought that the percentages were so strange."
    "Good point. All right, I'll work on it."
    "Just don't tell me what you discover," Vin said.
    "Well, how is that going to help