Marsh nodded. “I’ll try. I’m on my way to a station right now—they always do personnel changes at night, to maintain their secret. The upper ranks have taken an interest in me, and they’re letting me visit some stations to become familiar with their work. I’ll see if I can get a list for you.”
Kelsier nodded in the darkness.
“Just . . . don’t be stupid with the information, all right?” Marsh said. “We have to be careful, Kell. The Ministry has kept these stations secret for quite some time. Now that we know about them, we have a serious advantage. Don’t waste it.”
“I won’t,” Kelsier promised. “What about the Inquisitors? Did you find anything out about them?”
Marsh stood quietly for a moment. “They’re . . . strange, Kell. I don’t know. They seem to have all of the Allomantic powers, so I assume that they were once Mistborn. I can’t find out much else about them—though I do know that they age.”
“Really?” Kelsier said with interest. “So, they’re not immortal?”
“No,” Marsh said. “The obligators say that Inquisitors change occasionally. The creatures are very long-lived, but they do eventually die of old age. New ones must be recruited from noblemen ranks. They’re people, Kell—they’ve just been . . . changed.”
Kelsier nodded. “If they can die of old age, then there’s probably other ways to kill them too.”
“That’s what I think,” Marsh said. “I’ll see what I can find, but don’t get your hopes up. The Inquisitors don’t have many dealings with normal obligators—there’s political tension between the two groups. The lord prelan leads the church, but the Inquisitors think that they should be in charge.”
“Interesting,” Kelsier said slowly. Vin could practically hear his mind working on the new information.
“Anyway, I should go,” Marsh said. “I had to jog all the way here, and I’m going to be late getting to my appointment anyway.”
Kelsier nodded, and Marsh began to move away, picking his way over the rubble in his dark obligator’s robe.
“Marsh,” Kelsier said as Marsh reached the doorway.
Marsh turned.
“Thank you,” Kelsier said. “I can only guess how dangerous this is.”
“I’m not doing this for you, Kell,” Marsh said. “But . . . I appreciate the sentiment. I’ll try and send you another missive once I have more information.”
“Be careful,” Kelsier said.
Marsh vanished out into the misty night. Kelsier stood in the fallen room for a few minutes, staring after his brother.
He wasn’t lying about that either, Vin thought. He really does care for Marsh.
“Let’s go,” Kelsier said. “We should get you back to Mansion Renoux—House Lekal is throwing another party in a few days, and you’ll need to be there.”
* * *
Sometimes, my companions claim that I worry and question too much. However, while I may wonder about my stature as the hero, there is one thing that I have never questioned: the ultimate good of our quest.
The Deepness must be destroyed. I have seen it, and I have felt it. This name we give it is too weak a word, I think. Yes, it is deep and unfathomable, but it is also terrible. Many do not realize that it is sentient, but I have sensed its mind, such that it is, the few times I have confronted it directly.
It is a thing of destruction, madness, and corruption. It would destroy this world not out of spite or out of animosity, but simply because that is what it does.
28
Keep Lekal’s ballroom was shaped like the inside of a pyramid. The dance floor was set on a waist-high platform at the very center of the room, and the dining tables sat on four similar platforms surrounding it. Servants scuttled through the trenches running between the platforms, delivering food to the dining aristocrats.
Four tiers of balconies ran along the inside perimeter of the pyramidal room, each one a little closer to the point at the top, each one extending just a little bit more over the dance floor. Though the main room was well lit, the balconies themselves were shadowed by their overhangs. The design was intended to allow proper viewing of the keep’s most distinctive artistic feature—the small stained-glass windows that lined each balcony.
Lekal noblemen bragged that while other keeps had larger windows, Keep Lekal had the most detailed ones. Vin had to admit that they were impressive. She’d seen so many stained-glass windows over the last few months that she was beginning to take them for granted. Keep Lekal’s windows, however, put most of them to shame. Each of these was an extravagant, detailed marvel of resplendent color. Exotic animals pranced, distant landscapes enticed, and portraits of famous noblemen sat proudly.
There were also, of course, the requisite pictures dedicated to the Ascension. Vin could recognize these more easily now, and she was surprised to see references to things she had read in the logbook. The hills of emerald green. The steep mountains, with faint wavelike lines coming from the tips. A deep, dark lake. And . . . blackness. The Deepness. A chaotic thing of destruction.
He defeated it, Vin thought. But . . . what was it? Perhaps the end of the logbook would reveal more.
Vin shook her head, leaving the alcove—and its black window—behind. She strolled along the second balcony, wearing a pure white gown—an outfit she would never have been able to even imagine during her life as a skaa. Ash and soot had been too much a part of her life, and she didn’t think she’d even had a concept of what a pristine white looked like. That knowledge made the dress even more wondrous to her. She hoped she would never lose that—the sense within herself of how life had been before. It made her appreciate what she had so much more than the real nobility seemed to.
She continued along the balcony, seeking her prey. Glittering colors shone from backlit windows, sparkling light across the floor. Most of the windows glowed inside small viewing alcoves along the balcony, and so the balcony before her was interspersed with pockets of dark and color. Vin didn’t stop to study any more of the windows; she’d done quite a bit of that during her first balls at Keep Lekal. This night she had business to attend to.
She found her quarry halfway down the east balcony walkway. Lady Kliss was speaking with a group of people, so Vin paused, pretending to study a window. Kliss’s group soon broke up—one could generally only take so much of Kliss at a time. The short woman began to walk along the balcony toward Vin.
When she drew close, Vin turned, as if in surprise. “Why, Lady Kliss! I haven’t seen you all evening.”
Kliss turned eagerly, obviously excited by the prospect of another person with whom to gossip. “Lady Valette!” she said, waddling forward. “You missed Lord Cabe’s ball last week! Not due to a relapse of your earlier malady, I hope?”
“No,” Vin said. “I spent that evening dining with my uncle.”
“Oh,” Kliss said, disappointed. A relapse would have made a better story. “Well, that’s good.”
“I hear you have some interesting news about Lady Tren-Pedri Delouse,” Vin said carefully. “I myself have heard some interesting things lately.” She eyed Kliss, implying that she’d be willing to trade tidbits.