Mistborn #03 The Hero of Ages

chest. Kill her with the spike, and drive it into your own body. That is the only way!"
    Kill her with the spike . . . Spook thought, feeling numb. This all began that day when I nearly died. I was fighting a Thug in the market; I used him as a shield. But . . . the other soldier struck anyway, stabbing through his friend and into me.
    Spook stumbled away from Beldre, kneeling beside Quellion. The man cried out as Spook forced him down against the wooden planks.
    "That's right," Kelsier said. "Kill him first."
    But Spook wasn't listening. He ripped Quellion's shirt, looking at the shoulder and chest. There was nothing odd about either. The Citizen's upper arm, however, had a length of metal piercing it. It appeared to be bronze. Hand shaking, Spook pulled the metal free. Quellion screamed.
    But so did Kelsier.
    Spook turned, bloodied bronze spike in his hand. Kelsier was enraged, hands like claws, stepping forward.
    "What are you?" Spook asked.
    The thing screamed, but Spook ignored it, looking down at his own chest. He ripped open his shirt, exposing the mostly healed wound in his shoulder. A glimmer of metal still shone there, the tip of the sword. The sword that had passed through an Allomancer—killing the man—and then entered Spook's own body. Kelsier had told him to leave the broken shard there. As a symbol of what Spook had gone through.
    The point of the shard protruded from Spook's skin. How had he forgotten about it? How had he ignored such a relatively large piece of metal inside of his body? Spook reached for it.
    "No!" Kelsier said. "Spook, do you want to go back to being normal? Do you want to be useless again? You'll lose your pewter, and go back to being weak, like you were when you let your uncle die!"
    Spook wavered.
    No, Spook thought. Something is wrong. I was supposed to expose Quellion, get him to use his Allomancy, but I just attacked instead. I wanted to kill. I forgot about plans and preparation. I brought destruction to this city.
    This is not right!
    He pulled the glass dagger from his boot. Kelsier screamed terribly in his ears, but Spook reached up anyway, slicing the flesh of his chest. He reached in with pewter-enhanced fingers and grabbed the steel shard that was embedded inside.
    Then, he ripped the bit of metal free, casting it across the stage, crying out at the shock of pain. Kelsier vanished immediately. And so did Spook's ability to burn pewter.
    It hit him all at once—the fatigue of pushing himself so hard during his time in Urteau. The wounds he'd been ignoring. The sudden explosion of light, sound, smell, and sensation that pewter had let him resist. It overcame him like a physical force, crushing him down. He collapsed to the platform.
    He groaned, unable to think anymore. He could simply let the blackness take him. . . .
    Her city is burning.
    Blackness . . .
    Thousands will die in the flames.
    The mists tickled his cheeks. In the cacophony, Spook had let his tin dim, relieving him of sensation, leaving him feeling blissfully numb. It was better that way.
    You want to be like Kelsier? Really like Kelsier? Then fight when you are beaten!
    "Lord Spook!" The voice was faint.
    Survive!
    With a scream of pain, Spook flared tin. As the metal always did, it brought a wave of sensations—thousands of them, shocking him at once. Pain. Feeling. Hearing. Sounds, smells, lights.
    And lucidity.
    Spook forced himself to his knees, coughing. Blood still streamed down his arm. He looked up. Sazed was running toward the platform.
    "Lord Spook!" Sazed said, puffing as he arrived. "Lord Breeze is trying to damp down riots, but we pushed this city too far, I think! The people will destroy it in their rage."
    "The flames," Spook croaked. "We have to put out the fires. The city is too dry; it has too much wood. It will burn, with everyone in it."
    Sazed looked grave. "There is no way. We must get out! This riot will destroy us."
    Spook glanced to the side. Beldre was kneeling beside her brother. She'd bound his wound, and then made a makeshift sling for his arm. Quellion glanced at Spook, looking dazed. As if he'd just awoken from a dream.
    Spook stumbled to his feet. "We won't abandon the city, Sazed."
    "But—"
    " No! " Spook said. "I ran from Luthadel and left Clubs to die. I will not run again! We can stop the flames. We just need water."
    Sazed paused.
    "Water," Beldre said, standing.
    "The canals will fill soon," Spook said. "We can organize fire brigades—use the flood to stop the