Mistborn #03 The Hero of Ages

crew."
    Spook wasn't certain what to make of that. He walked forward, looking over the cards on the table. He picked one up, feeling its paper. His heightened senses let him feel the bumps on the back.
    "Marked cards?" he asked.
    "Of course," Durn said. "Practice game, to see if my men could read the patterns right."
    Spook tossed the card onto the table. "You still haven't told me why you've been spreading rumors about me."
    "No offense, kid," Durn said. "But . . . well, you're supposed to be dead."
    "If you believed that, then why bother talking about me?"
    "Why do you think?" Durn said. "The people love the Survivor—and anything related to him. That's why Quellion uses his name so often. But, if I could show that Quellion killed one of Kelsier's own crew . . . well, there are a lot of people in this city who wouldn't like that."
    "So, you're just trying to help," Spook said flatly. "Out of the goodness of your heart."
    "You're not the only one who thinks that Quellion is killing this city. If you're really of the Survivor's crew, you'll know that sometimes, people fight."
    "I find it difficult to think of you as an altruist, Durn. You're a thief."
    "So are you."
    "We didn't know what we were getting into," Spook said. "Kelsier promised us riches. How do you gain from all this?"
    Durn snorted. "The Citizen is very bad for business. Venture red wine being sold for a fraction of a clip? Our smuggling has been choked to a trickle because everyone fears buying our goods. Things were never this bad under the Lord Ruler." He leaned in. "If your friends staying in the old Ministry building think they can do something about that lunatic running this city, then tell them they'll have my support. There isn't a large underground left in this city, but Quellion will be surprised at the damage it can do if manipulated the right way."
    Spook stood quietly for a moment. "There's a man milking for information in the tavern on Westbrook Lane. Send someone to contact him. He's a Soother—the best one you'll ever meet—but he stands out a bit. Make your offer to him."
    Durn nodded.
    Spook turned to go, then glanced back at Durn. "Don't mention my name to him, or what happened to me."
    With that, he left through the hallway, passing the guards and the displaced crooks from the card game. Spook pulled off his blindfold as he stepped into the daylight-like brightness of the starlit night.
    He strolled through the Harrows, trying to decide what he thought of the meeting. Durn hadn't revealed anything all that important. Yet, Spook felt as if something were happening around him, something he hadn't planned on, something he couldn't quite decipher. He was becoming more comfortable with Kelsier's voice, and with his pewter, but he was still worried that he wouldn't be able to live up to the position he'd fallen into.
    "If you don't get to Quellion soon," Kelsier said, "he's going to find your friends. He's already preparing assassins."
    "He won't send them," Spook said quietly. "Especially if he's heard Durn's rumors about me. Everyone knows that Sazed and Breeze were on your crew. Quellion won't take them out unless they prove to be such a threat that he has no other choice."
    "Quellion is an unstable man," Kelsier said. "Don't wait too long. You don't want to find out how irrational he can be."
    Spook fell silent. Then, he heard footsteps, approaching quickly. He felt the vibrations in the ground. He spun and loosened his cloak, reaching for his weapon.
    "You're not in danger," Kelsier said quietly.
    Spook relaxed as someone rushed around the alley corner. It was one of the men from Durn's chips game. The man was puffing, his face flush with exhaustion. "My lord!" he said.
    "I'm no lord," Spook said. "What happened? Is Durn in danger?"
    "No, sir," the man said. "I just . . . I . . ."
    Spook raised an eyebrow.
    "I need your help," the man said between breaths. "When we realized who you were, you were already gone. I just . . ."
    "Help with what?" Spook said tersely.
    "My sister, sir," the man said. "She got taken by the Citizen. Our . . . father was a nobleman. Durn hid me, but Mailey, she got sold by the woman I'd left her with. Sir, she's only seven. He's going to burn her in a few days!"
    Spook frowned. What does he expect me to do? He opened his mouth to ask that very question, but then stopped. He wasn't the same man anymore. He wasn't limited as the old Spook would have been. He could do something else.
    What Kelsier would have