Brandon Sanderson - Mistborn - The Final Empire

Vin tensed. The door clicked, and she sprang to her feet, scrambling forward.

Have I always been this slow without pewter? she thought with horror. The Inquisitor snatched her arm as she passed, his motions unconcerned, almost casual — and she could see why. His hands moved supernaturally quickly, making her seem even more sluggish by comparison.

The Inquisitor pulled her up, twisting her and easily holding her. He smiled with an evil grin, his face pocked with scars. Scars that looked like…

Arrowhead wounds, she thought with shock. But… healed already? How can it be?

She struggled, but her weak, pewterless body was no match for the Inquisitor’s strength. The creature carried her toward the doorway, and the second Inquisitor stepped back, regarding her with spikes that peeked out from beneath its cowl. Though the Inquisitor who carried her was smiling, this second one had a flat line of a mouth.

Vin spat at the second Inquisitor as she passed, her spittle smacking it right on one of its spikeheads. Her captor carried her out of the chamber and through a narrow hallway. She cried out for help, knowing that her screams — in the middle of Kredik Shaw itself — would be useless. At least she succeeded in annoying the Inquisitor, for he twisted her arm.

“Quiet,” he said as she grunted in pain.

Vin fell silent, instead focusing on their location. They were probably in one of the lower sections of the palace; the hallways were too long to be in a tower or spire. The decorations were lavish, but the rooms looked… unused. The carpets were pristine, the furniture unmarked by scuff or scratch. She had the feeling that the murals were rarely seen, even by those who often passed through the chambers.

Eventually, the Inquisitors entered a stairwell and began to climb. One of the spires, she thought.

With each climbing step, Vin could feel the Lord Ruler getting closer. His mere presence dampened her emotions, stealing her willpower, making her numb to everything but lonely depression. She sagged in the Inquisitor’s grip, no longer struggling. It took all of her energy to simply resist the Lord Ruler’s pressure on her soul.

After a short time in the tunnel-like stairwell, the Inquisitors carried her out into a large, circular room. And, despite the power of the Lord Ruler’s Soothing, despite her visits to noble keeps, Vin took just a brief moment to stare at her surroundings. They were majestic like none she’d ever seen.

The room was shaped like a massive, stocky cylinder. The wall — there was only one, running in a wide circle — was made entirely of glass. Lit by fires from behind, the room glowed with spectral light. The glass was colored, though it didn’t depict any specific scene. Instead, it seemed crafted from a single sheet, the colors blown and melded together in long, thin trails. Like…

Like mist, she thought with wonder. Colorful streams of mist, running in a circle around the entire room.

The Lord Ruler sat in an elevated throne in the very center of the room. He wasn’t the old Lord Ruler — this was the younger version, the handsome man who had killed Kelsier.

Some kind of impostor? No, I can feel him — just as I could feel the one before. They’re the same man. Can he change how he looks, then? Appearing young when he wishes to put forth a pretty face?

A small group of gray-robed, eye-tattooed obligators stood conversing on the far side of the room. Seven Inquisitors stood waiting, like a row of shadows with iron eyes. That made nine of them in all, counting the two that had escorted Vin. Her scar-faced captor delivered her to one of the others, who held her with a similarly inescapable grip.

“Let us be on with this,” said the Lord Ruler.

A regular obligator stepped forward, bowing. With a chill, she realized that she recognized him.

Lord Prelan Tevidian, she thought, eyeing the thin balding man. My… father.

“My lord,” Tevidian said, “forgive me, but I do not understand. We have already discussed this matter!”

“The Inquisitors say they have more to add,” the Lord Ruler said in a tired voice.

Tevidian eyed Vin, frowning in confusion. He doesn’t know who I am, she thought. He never knew he was a father.

“My lord,” Tevidian said, turning away from her. “Look outside your window! Do we not have better things to discuss? The entire city is in rebellion! Skaa torches light up the night, and they dare go out into the mists. They blaspheme in riots, attacking the keeps of the nobility!”

“Let them,” the Lord Ruler said in an uncaring voice. He seemed so… worn. He sat strongly on his throne, but there was still a weariness to his posture and his voice.

“But my lord!” Tevidian said. “The Great Houses are falling!”

The Lord Ruler waved a dismissive hand. “It is good for them to get purged every century or so. It fosters instability, keeps the aristocracy from growing too confident. Usually, I let them kill each other in one of their foolish wars, but these riots will work.”

“And… if the skaa come to the palace?”

“Then I will deal with them,” the Lord Ruler said softly. “You will not question this further.”

“Yes, my lord,” Tevidian said, bowing and backing away.

“Now,” the Lord Ruler said, turning to the Inquisitors. “What is it you wished to present?”

The scarred Inquisitor stepped forward. “Lord Ruler, we wish to petition that leadership of your Ministry be taken from these… men and granted to the Inquisitors instead.”

“We have discussed this,” the Lord Ruler said. “You and your brothers are needed for more important tasks. You are too valuable to waste on simple administration.”

“But,” the Inquisitor said, “by allowing common men to rule your Ministry, you have unwittingly allowed corruption and vice to enter the very heart of your holy palace!”

“Idle claims!” Tevidian spat. “You say such things often, Kar, but you never offer any proof.”

Kar turned slowly, his eerie smile lit by the twisting, colored windowlight. Vin shivered. That smile was nearly as unsettling as the Lord Ruler’s Soothing.

“Proof?” Kar asked. “Why, tell me, Lord Prelan . Do you recognize that girl?”

“Bah, of course not!” Tevidian said with a wave of his hand. “What does a skaa girl have to do with the government of the Ministry?”

“Everything,” Kar said, turning to Vin. “Oh, yes… everything. Tell the Lord Ruler who your father is, child.”

Vin tried to squirm, but the Lord Ruler’s Allomancy was so oppressive, the Inquisitor’s hands were so strong. “I don’t know,” she managed to say through gritted teeth.

The Lord Ruler perked up slightly, turning toward her, leaning forward.

“You cannot lie to the Lord Ruler, child,” Kar said in a quiet, rasping voice. “He has lived for centuries, and has learned to use Allomancy like no mortal man. He can see things in the way your heart beats, and can read your emotions in your eyes. He can sense the moment when you lie. He knows… oh, yes. He knows.”

“I never knew my father,” Vin said stubbornly. If the Inquisitor wanted to know something, then keeping it a secret seemed like a good idea. “I’m just a street urchin.”

“A Mistborn street urchin?” Kar asked. “Why, that’s interesting. Isn’t it, Tevidian?”

The lord prelan paused, his frown deepening. The Lord Ruler stood slowly, walking down the steps of his dais toward Vin.

“Yes, my lord,” Kar said. “You felt her Allomancy earlier. You know that she is a full Mistborn — an amazingly powerful one. Yet, she claims to have grown up on the street. What noble house would have abandoned such a child? Why, for her to have such strength, she must be of an extremely pure line. At least… one of her parents must have been from a very pure line.”