Mistborn #02 The Well of Ascension

enough. Mist didn't usually enter tents.
    And there, in the middle of the mists, was the spirit. Standing directly above Elend.
    It wasn't even really there. It was just an outline in the mists, a repeating pattern caused by chaotic movements. And yet it was real. She could feel it, and she could see it—see it as it looked up, meeting her gaze with invisible eyes.
    Hateful eyes.
    It raised an insubstantial arm, and Vin saw something flash. She reacted immediately, whipping out a dagger, bursting into the tent and swinging. Her blow met something tangible in the mist spirit's hand. A metallic sound rang in the calm air, and Vin felt a powerful, numbing chill in her arm. The hairs across her entire body prickled.
    And then it disappeared. Fading away, like the ringing of its somehow substantial blade. Vin blinked, then turned to look through the blowing tent flap. The mists outside were gone; day had finally won.
    It didn't seem to have many victories remaining.
    "Vin?" Elend asked, yawning and stirring.
    Vin calmed her breathing. The spirit had gone. The daylight meant safety, for now. Once, it was the nights that I found safe , she thought. Kelsier gave them to me .
    "What's wrong?" Elend asked. How could someone, even a nobleman, be so slow to rise, so unconcerned about the vulnerability he displayed while sleeping?
    She sheathed her dagger. What can I tell him? How can I protect him from something I can barely see? She needed to think. "It was nothing," she said quietly. "Just me. . .being jumpy again."
    Elend rolled over, sighing contentedly. "Is Spook doing his morning scout?"
    "Yes."
    "Wake me when he gets back."
    Vin nodded, but he probably couldn't see her. She knelt, looking at him as the sun rose behind her. She'd given herself to him—not just her body, and not just her heart. She'd abandoned her rationalizations, given away her reservations, all for him. She could no longer afford to think that she wasn't worthy of him, no longer give herself the false comfort of believing they couldn't ever be together.
    She'd never trusted anyone this much. Not Kelsier, not Sazed, not Reen. Elend had everything. That knowledge made her tremble inside. If she lost him, she would lose herself.
    I mustn't think about that! she told herself, rising. She left the tent, quietly closing the flaps behind her. In the distance, shadows moved. Spook appeared a moment later.
    "Someone's definitely back there," he said quietly. "Not spirits, Vin. Five men, with a camp."
    Vin frowned. "Following us?"
    "They must be."
    Straff's scouts , she thought. "We'll let Elend decide what to do about them."
    Spook shrugged, walking over to sit on her rock. "You going to wake him?"
    Vin turned back. "Let him sleep a little longer."
    Spook shrugged again. He watched as she walked over to the firepit and unwrapped the wood they'd covered the night before, then began to build a fire.
    "You've changed, Vin," Spook said.
    She continued to work. "Everyone changes," she said. "I'm not a thief anymore, and I have friends to support me."
    "I don't mean that," Spook said. "I mean recently. This last week. You're different than you were."
    "Different how?"
    "I don't know. You don't seem as frightened all the time."
    Vin paused. "I've made some decisions. About who I am, and who I will be. About what I want."
    She worked quietly for a moment, and finally got a spark to catch. "I'm tired of putting up with foolishness," she finally said. "Other people's foolishness, and my own. I've decided to act, rather than second-guess. Perhaps it's a more immature way of looking at things. But it feels right, for now."
    "It's not immature," Spook said.
    Vin smiled, looking up at him. Sixteen and hardly grown into his body, he was the same age that she'd been when Kelsier had recruited her. He was squinting against the light, even though the sun was low.
    "Lower your tin," Vin said. "No need to keep it on so strong."
    Spook shrugged. She could see the uncertainty in him. He wanted so badly to be useful. She knew that feeling.
    "What about you, Spook?" she said, turning to gather the breakfast supplies. Broth and mealcakes again. "How have you been lately?"
    He shrugged yet again.
    I'd almost forgotten what it was like to try and have a conversation with a teenage boy , she thought, smiling.
    "Spook. . ." she said, just testing out the name. "What do you think of that nickname, anyway? I remember when everyone called you by your real name." Lestibournes—Vin had tried