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passing guard patrols from asking too many questions. In the cases of Kelsier and Dockson, of course, that clothing was a lie. Neither was actually noble—though, technically, Kelsier was a half-blood. In many ways, however, that was worse than being just a normal skaa.
    Dockson strolled up next to Kelsier, then leaned against the battlement, resting a pair of stout arms on the stone. “You’re a few days late, Kell.”
    “I decided to make a few extra stops in the plantations to the north.”
    “Ah,” Dockson said. “So you did have something to do with Lord Tresting’s death.”
    Kelsier smiled. “You could say that.”
    “His murder caused quite a stir among the local nobility.”
    “That was kind of the intention,” Kelsier said. “Though, to be honest, I wasn’t planning anything quite so dramatic. It was almost more of an accident than anything else.”
    Dockson raised an eyebrow. “How do you ‘accidentally’ kill a nobleman in his own mansion?”
    “With a knife in the chest,” Kelsier said lightly. “Or, rather, a pair of knives in the chest—it always pays to be careful.”
    Dockson rolled his eyes.
    “His death isn’t exactly a loss, Dox,” Kelsier said. “Even among the nobility, Tresting had a reputation for cruelty.”
    “I don’t care about Tresting,” Dockson said. “I’m just considering the state of insanity that led me to plan another job with you. Attacking a provincial lord in his manor house, surrounded by guards…Honestly, Kell, I’d nearly forgotten how foolhardy you can be.”
    “Foolhardy?” Kelsier asked with a laugh. “That wasn’t foolhardy—that was just a small diversion. You should see some of the things I’m planning to do!”
    Dockson stood for a moment, then he laughed too. “By the Lord Ruler, it’s good to have you back, Kell! I’m afraid I’ve grown rather boring during the last few years.”
    “We’ll fix that,” Kelsier promised. He took a deep breath, ash falling lightly around him. Skaa cleaning crews were already back at work on the streets below, brushing up the dark ash. Behind, a guard patrol passed, nodding to Kelsier and Dockson. They waited in silence for the men to pass.
    “It’s good to be back,” Kelsier finally said. “There’s something homey about Luthadel—even if it is a depressing, stark pit of a city. You have the meeting organized?”
    Dockson nodded. “We can’t start until this evening, though. How’d you get in, anyway? I had men watching the gates.”
    “Hmm? Oh, I snuck in last night.”
    “But how—” Dockson paused. “Oh, right. That’s going to take some getting used to.”
    Kelsier shrugged. “I don’t see why. You always work with Mistings.”
    “Yes, but this is different,” Dockson said. He held up a hand to forestall further argument. “No need, Kell. I’m not hedging—I just said it would take some getting used to.”
    “Fine. Who’s coming tonight?”
    “Well, Breeze and Ham will be there, of course. They’re very curious about this mystery job of ours—not to mention rather annoyed that I won’t tell him what you’ve been up to these last few years.”
    “Good,” Kelsier said with a smile. “Let them wonder. How about Trap?”
    Dockson shook his head. “Trap’s dead. The Ministry finally caught up with him a couple months ago. Didn’t even bother sending him to the Pits—they beheaded him on the spot.”
    Kelsier closed his eyes, exhaling softly. It seemed that the Steel Ministry caught up with everyone eventually. Sometimes, Kelsier felt that a skaa Misting’s life wasn’t so much about surviving as it was about picking the right time to die.
    “This leaves us without a Smoker,” Kelsier finally said, opening his eyes. “You have any suggestions?”
    “Ruddy,” Dockson said.
    Kelsier shook his head. “No. He’s a good Smoker, but he’s not a good enough man.”
    Dockson smiled. “Not a good enough man to be on a thieving crew…Kell, I have missed working with