Mistborn: secret history

3

“So, Midge,” Kelsier whispered to the dozing man. “You got that?”

“Mission…” the scruffy soldier mumbled. “Survivor…”

“You can’t trust anyone pierced by metal,” Kelsier said. “Tell her that. Those exact words. It’s a mission

for you from the Survivor.”

The man snorted awake; he was supposed to have been on watch, and he stumbled to his feet as his

replacement approached. Kelsier regarded the glowing beings, anxious. It had taken precious days –

during which Ruin had kept him far from Vin – to search out someone in the army who was touched in the

head, someone with that distinctive soul of madness.

It wasn’t that they were broken, as he had once guessed. They were merely… open. This man, Midge,

seemed perfect. He responded to Kelsier’s words, but he wasn’t so unhinged that the others ignored him.

Kelsier followed Midge eagerly through camp to one of the cookfires, where Midge started chatting,

animatedly, with the others there.

Tell them, Kelsier thought. Spread the news through camp. Let Vin hear it.

Midge continued speaking. Others stood up around the fire. They were listening! Kelsier touched Midge,

trying to hear what he was saying. He couldn’t make it out though, until a thread of Preservation touched

him – then the words started to vibrate through his soul, faintly audible to his ears.

“That’s right,” Midge said. “He talked to me. Said I’m special. Said we shouldn’t trust none of you. I’m

holy, and you just ain’t.”

“What?” Kelsier snapped. “Midge, you idiot.”

It went downhill from there. Kelsier stepped back as men around the cookfire squabbled and started

shoving one another, then they began a full-on brawl. With a sigh, Kelsier settled down on the misty

shadow of a boulder and watched several days’ worth of work evaporate.

Someone laid a hand on his shoulder, and he glanced toward Ruin, who had appeared there.

“Careful,” Kelsier said, “you’ll get you on my shirt.”

Ruin chuckled. “I was worried, leaving you alone, Kelsier. But it seems you’ve been serving me well in my

absence.” One of the brawlers punched Demoux right across the face, and Ruin winced. “Nice.”

“Needs to follow through more,” Kelsier mumbled. “You need to really commit to a punch.”

Ruin smiled a deep, knowing, insufferable smile. Hell, Kelsier thought. I hope that’s not what I look like.

“You must realize by now, Kelsier,” Ruin said, “that anything you do, I will counter. Struggle serves only

Ruin.”

Elend Venture arrived on the scene, gliding on a Steelpush that Kelsier envied, looking properly regal.

That boy had grown into more of a man than Kelsier had ever expected he would. Despite that stupid

beard.

Kelsier frowned. “Where is Vin?”

“Hm?” Ruin said. “Oh, I have her.”

“Where?” Kelsier demanded.

“Away. Where I can keep her in hand.” He leaned toward Kelsier. “Good job wasting time on the madman.”

---

He vanished.

I absolutely hate that man, Kelsier thought. Ruin… he was no more impressive, deep down, than

Preservation was. Hell, Kelsier thought, I’m better at this god stuff than they are. At least he had inspired

people.

Including Midge and the rest of the brawlers, unfortunately. Kelsier stood up from the rock and finally

acknowledged a fact he’d been wanting to avoid. He couldn’t do anything here, not with Ruin so focused

on Vin and Elend right now. Kelsier had to get to someone else. Sazed maybe? Or perhaps Marsh. If he

could get through to his brother while Ruin was distracted…

He had to hope that the wards on that orb would shade him from the dark god’s eyes, as they had when

Kelsier had first arrived at Fadrex. He needed to leave this place, strike out, lose Ruin’s interest and then

try to contact Marsh or Spook, get them to relay a message to Vin.

It hurt him to leave her behind in Ruin’s clutches, but there was nothing more he could do.

Kelsier left that very hour.

---