Mistborn #01 The Final Empire

finger at Kelsier’s chest. “ How dare you? How dare you try and hijack the rebellion for one of your little ‘jobs’? How dare you use this dream as a way of enriching yourself?”
    Kelsier pushed Marsh’s finger away. “That’s not what this is about.”
    “Oh?” Marsh asked, tapping the word atium on the board. “Why the games, Kelsier? Why lead Yeden along, pretending to accept him as your ‘employer’? Why act like you care about the skaa? We both know what you’re really after.”
    Kelsier clenched his jaw, a bit of his humor melting away. He always could do that to me. “You don’t know me anymore, Marsh,” Kelsier said quietly. “This isn’t about money—I once had more wealth than any man could spend. This job is about something different.”
    Marsh stood close, studying Kelsier’s eyes, as if searching for truth in them. “You always were a good liar,” he finally said.
    Kelsier rolled his eyes. “Fine, think what you want. But don’t preach to me. Overthrowing the empire might have been your dream once—but now you’ve become a good little skaa, staying in your shop and fawning over noblemen when they visit.”
    “I’ve faced reality,” Marsh said. “Something you’ve never been good at. Even if you’re serious about this plan, you’ll fail. Everything the rebellion has done—the raids, the thefts, the deaths—has accomplished nothing. Our best efforts were never even a mild annoyance for the Lord Ruler.”
    “Ah,” Kelsier said, “but being an annoyance is something that I am very good at. In fact, I’m far more than just a ‘mild’ annoyance—people tell me I can be downright frustrating. Might as well use this talent for the cause of good, eh?”
    Marsh sighed, turning away. “This isn’t about a ‘cause,’ Kelsier. It’s about revenge. It’s about you, just like everything always is. I’ll believe that you aren’t after the money—I’ll even believe that you intend to deliver Yeden this army he’s apparently paying you for. But I won’t believe that you care.”
    “That’s where you are wrong, Marsh,” Kelsier said quietly. “That’s where you’ve always been wrong about me.”
    Marsh frowned. “Perhaps. How did this start, anyway? Did Yeden come to you, or did you go to him?”
    “Does it matter?” Kelsier asked. “Look, Marsh. I need someone to infiltrate the Ministry. This plan won’t go anywhere if we don’t discover a way to keep an eye on those Inquisitors.”
    Marsh turned. “You actually expect me to help you?”
    Kelsier nodded. “That’s why you came here, no matter what you say. You once told me that you thought I could do great things if I ever applied myself to a worthy goal. Well, that’s what I’m doing now—and you’re going to help.”
    “It’s not that easy anymore, Kell,” Marsh said with a shake of his head. “Some people are different now. Others are . . . gone.”
    Kelsier let the room grow quiet. Even the hearth’s fire was starting to die out. “I miss her too.”
    “I’m sure that you do—but I have to be honest with you, Kell. Despite what she did . . . sometimes I wish that you hadn’t been the one to survive the Pits.”
    “I wish the same thing every day.”
    Marsh turned, studying Kelsier with his cold, discerning eyes. The eyes of a Seeker. Whatever he saw reflected inside of Kelsier must have finally met with his approval.
    “I’m leaving,” Marsh said. “But, for some reason you actually seem sincere this time. I’ll come back and listen to whatever insane plan you’ve concocted. Then . . . well, we’ll see.”
    Kelsier smiled. Beneath it all, Marsh was a good man—a better one than Kelsier had ever been. As Marsh turned toward the door, Kelsier caught a flicker of shadowed movement from beneath the doorway. He immediately burned iron, and the translucent blue lines shot out from his body, connecting him to nearby sources of metal. Marsh, of course, had none on his person—not even any coins. Traveling through skaa sectors of town could be very dangerous for a man who looked even marginally prosperous.
    Someone else, however, hadn’t yet learned not to carry metal on her person. The blue lines were thin and weak—they didn’t do well penetrating wood—but they were just strong enough to let Kelsier locate the belt latch of a person out in the hallway, moving quickly away from the door on silent feet.
    Kelsier smiled to himself. The girl was remarkably skilled. Her time on