Following a Lead

After leaving Sind in the warehouse with the spike, Lena fingered the slip of paper in her Mistcloak. She knew the address by heart, having looked at it no fewer than twenty times since their encounter with the Inquisitor, constantly replaying Broulliar's words.

"You and the others could be made stronger...I want you to help yourselves...the Inquisitor needs to be dealt with...I know someone who can tell you how to use the spikes..."

Lena pulled her hood up over her head, concealing her face in the same way that Broulliar always did. It was understandable for Sind not to want to let this stranger impale her with these strange spikes, but Lena needed to know more.

Despite what she knew of his association with House Venture, Lena still trusted Broulliar. He had yet to give her a good reason not to. He told her in the past that he wished he were free to choose who he served, so she wondered how loyal he was to House Venture.

The mists wrapped around her, providing less comfort than usual after the previous night's chase. The address was just up ahead. She could still turn back and bring someone with her, but if Sind wouldn't come, who would?

Pulling the cloak more tightly around her, she glanced around the streets before knocking on the door.

The house its self was a rather strange sight. It was set apart from the rest of the street. In daylight hours a busy market occupied the area, but with the shops and stalls abandoned the street had an anemic feel. Stark white and separated from the neighboring buildings by narrow alleys, the homey looking building stood out in the dirty street. A small garden sat in pots in the windowsills, nursing strange smelling plants and herbs Lena could not identify. A couple of large sounding dogs immediately started barking out back when Lena knocked.

A muffled voice yelled for quiet from the dogs before the door swung open an inch or so revealing a single unnatural green eye framed behind long gray hair. The eye regarded Lena for a moment. Then the door swung open to reveal an ancient woman with skin the color of mahogany. She smiles warmly, holding the door open and speaking in a strange accent, waving Lena in.

"Why hello, my dear. I've been expecting company. Come in out of the ash, dearie. Would you like some soup?"

Lena was caught off guard by the friendly woman who answered the door. She had expected to be greeted by a blood-stained apron-wearing man with bloody tools in hand and a feeling of dread. She stepped inside and shrugged out of her cloak.

"Yes, ma'am, soup would be nice."

The old woman steps aside, a gnarled blackwood cane thumping on the hardwood floor. Inside the house is simply decorated, with dark wooden furniture and colorful rugs and drapes. Carved statues of ivory and stone stand guard on a shelf circling the top of the living room up near the ceiling and a j I met smell wafts up from the kitchen. A bright fire burns in the hearth before a pair of spartan chairs. Knitting needles and tars lay set aside in one chair.

"You mistborn. Always out in the ash. You'll ruin your lovely cloak like that. Come in, sit down. The bread will be cooled by now."

She bustles back to the kitchen then returns with a tray of hit food.

"Eat, dearie. Put some meat on those bones. Iron and brass girl, you look frail even for mistborn."

Lena took a seat and began devouring the food set before her. She had been so caught up in her thoughts about the Inquisitor and the spikes that she had forgotten to eat in the last couple of days.

"Thank you for the food, ma'am. You have a nice house and a lot of interesting things."

Being quite the master of the segue, Lena continued.

"Broulliar told me you can tell me about metal spikes in people's bodies and how they work. Can you?"

She smiled warmly as she served another piece of bread.

"Oh that one sent you? He and his friends think very highly of themselves. They think to abuse the power of the gods to advance their petty goals."

She brushes some hair back from her face to reveal half a dozen studs and hoops in her ears.

"What would you use this power for?"

Lena's eyes dropped at the woman's less than admirable reaction to Broulliar's name.

"I don't really know any of his friends or what their goals are. I just want to help people who may not be able to help themselves, but some of their opressors are far stronger than I am."

She looked up bashfully.

"I guess I'm just trying to even the odds."

She nods, sitting down with Lena.

"Bianshi-wo is the art of reapplying power where it is needed. Many who posses power do not have the capacity or will to use it to its fullest. For a people to survive, all strength must be used and maximized. I can help you learn how, if you are willing. Broulliar has spoken to me of you, and I see your desire in your eyes. He told me you may have..."

She pauses, searching for the word.

"...spikes. Spikes without a flow to correct. I will teach you, but it will not be easy and it will not be quick. Will you learn?"

Lena glances at the floor again.

"Well...I don't have any spikes with me, but I know where one is."

Her eyes meet the elderly woman's with a mix of embarassment and eager anticipation.

"Can you teach me without one for now? I'm willing to learn no matter how long it takes."

There's a glint in the woman's eye, and she smiles again.

"Of course, dearie. It's been too long since I've had an eager young mind to teach."

She gets up and fetches a large scroll from a shelf, gently rolling it out on the table.

"Bianshi-wo is the art of controlling the channels of energy that flow through a body..."