Mistborn: The Final Empire (Mistborn, #1)

by Brandon Sanderson

TO WORK WITH ME, KELSIER HAD said, I only ask that you promise one thing—to trust me. Vin hung in the mist, immobile. It flowed around her like a quiet stream. Above, ahead, to the sides, and beneath. Mist all around her. Trust me, Vin, he’d said. You trusted me enough to jump off the wall, and I caught you. You’re going to have to trust me this time too. I’ll catch you. I’ll catch you…. It was as if she were nowhere. Among, and of, the mist. How she envied it. It didn’t think. Didn’t worry. Didn’t hurt. I trusted you, Kelsier, she thought. I actually did—but you let me fall. You promised that your crews had no betrayals. What of this? What of your betrayal? She hung, her tin extinguished to let her better see the mists. They were slightly wet, cool upon her skin. Like the tears of a dead man. Why does it matter, anymore? she thought, staring upward. Why does anything matter? What was it you said to me, Kelsier? That I never really understood? That I still needed to learn about friendship? What about you? You didn’t even fight him.