Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [173]
“Your own religion,” Vin said quietly. “You never found it, did you?”
Sazed shook his head. “The Lord Ruler implies in this logbook that it was our prophets that led him to the Well of Ascension, but even this is new information for us. What did we believe? What, or whom, did we worship? Where did these Terris prophets come from, and how did they predict the future?”
“I’m…sorry.”
“We continue to look, Mistress. We will find our answers eventually, I think. Even if we do not, we will still have provided an invaluable service for mankind. Other people call us docile and servile, but we have fought him, in our own way.”
Vin nodded. “So, what other things can you store? Strength and memories. Anything else?”
Sazed eyed her. “I have said too much already, I think. You understand the mechanics of what we do—if the Lord Ruler mentions these things in his text, you will not be confused.”
“Sight,” Vin said, perking up. “That’s why you wore glasses for a few weeks after you rescued me. You needed to be able to see better that night when you saved me, so you used up your storage. Then you spent a few weeks with weak vision so that you could refill it.”
Sazed didn’t respond to the comment. He picked up his pen, obviously intending to turn back to his translation. “Was there anything else, Mistress?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Vin said, pulling the handkerchief from her sleeve. “Do you have any idea what this is?”
“It appears to be a handkerchief, Mistress.”
Vin raised a droll eyebrow. “Very funny. You’ve spent far too long around Kelsier, Sazed.”
“I know,” he said with a quiet sigh. “He has corrupted me, I think. Regardless, I do not understand your question. What is distinctive about that particular handkerchief?”
“That’s what I want to know,” Vin said. “Spook gave it to me just a little bit ago.”
“Ah. That makes sense, then.”
“What?” Vin demanded.
“In noble society, Mistress, a handkerchief is the traditional gift a young man gives a lady that he wishes to seriously court.”
Vin paused, regarding the handkerchief with shock. “What? Is that boy crazy?”
“Most young men his age are somewhat crazy, I think,” Sazed said with a smile. “However, this is hardly unexpected. Haven’t you noticed how he stares at you when you enter the room?”
“I just thought he was creepy. What is he thinking? He’s so much younger than me.”
“The boy is fifteen, Mistress. That only makes him one year your junior.”
“Two,” Vin said. “I turned seventeen last week.”
“Still, he isn’t really that much younger than you.”
Vin rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for his attentions.”
“One would think, Mistress, that you would appreciate the opportunities you have. Not everyone is so fortunate.”
Vin paused. He’s a eunuch, you fool. “Sazed, I’m sorry. I…”
Sazed waved a hand. “It is something I have never known enough of to miss, Mistress. Perhaps I am fortunate—a life in the underground does not make it easy to raise a family. Why, poor Master Hammond has been away from his wife for months.”
“Ham’s married?”
“Of course,” Sazed said. “So is Master Yeden, I believe. They protect their families by separating them from underground activities, but this necessitates spending large periods of time apart.”
“Who else?” Vin asked. “Breeze? Dockson?”
“Master Breeze is a bit too…self-motivated for a family, I think. Master Dockson hasn’t spoken of his romantic life, but I suspect that there is something painful in his past. That is not uncommon for plantation skaa, as you might expect.”
“Dockson is from a plantation?” Vin asked with surprise.
“Of course. Don’t you ever spend time talking with your friends, Mistress?”
Friends. I have friends. It was an odd realization.
“Anyway,” Sazed said, “I should continue my work. I am sorry to be so dismissive, but I am nearly finished with the translation….”
“Of course,” Vin said, standing and smoothing her dress. “Thank you.”
She found Dockson sitting in the guest study, writing quietly on a piece of paper, a pile of documents organized neatly on the desktop. He wore a standard nobleman’s suit,