He managed to get to his feet, and caught Drifter lunging for the center, the deepest part. Kelsier snatched the man by the arm, swinging him away. Whatever this man wanted, Kelsier’s instincts said that he shouldn’t be allowed to have it. Beyond that, the Well was Kelsier’s only asset. If he could hold the man back from what he wanted, subdue him, perhaps it would lead to answers.

The Drifter stumbled, then lunged, trying to grab Kelsier.

Kelsier, in turn, pivoted and buried his fist in the man’s stomach. The motion gave him a thrill; after sitting for so long, inactive, it was nice to be able to do something.

Drifter grunted at the punch. “All right then,” he muttered.

Kelsier brought his fists up, checked his footing, then unleashed a series of quick blows at Drifter’s face that should have dazed him.

When Kelsier pulled back—not wanting to go too far and hurt the man seriously—he found that Drifter was smiling at him.

That didn’t seem a good sign.

Somehow, Drifter shook off the hits he’d taken. He jumped forward, dodged Kelsier’s attempted punch, then ducked and slammed his fist into Kelsier’s kidneys.

It hurt. Kelsier lacked a body, but apparently his spirit could feel pain. He let out a grunt and brought up his arms to protect his face, stepping backward in the liquid light. The Drifter attacked, relentless, slamming his fists into Kelsier with no care for the damage he might be doing to himself.

Go to the ground, Kelsier’s instincts told him. He dropped one hand and tried to seize Drifter by the arm, planning to send them both down into the light to grapple.

Unfortunately, the Drifter was a little too quick. He dodged and kicked Kelsier’s legs from beneath him again, then grabbed him by the throat, slamming him repeatedly—brutally—against the bottom of the shallower part of the prison, splashing him in light that was too thin to be water, but suffocating nonetheless.

Finally Drifter hauled him up, limp. The man’s eyes were glowing. “That was unpleasant,” Drifter said, “yet somehow still satisfying. Apparently you already being dead means I can hurt you.” As Kelsier tried to grab his arm, Drifter slammed Kelsier down again, then pulled him back up, stunned.

“I’m sorry, Survivor, for the rough treatment,” Drifter continued. “But you are not supposed to be here. You did what I needed you to, but you’re a wild card I’d rather not deal with right now.” He paused. “If it’s any consolation, you should feel proud. It’s been centuries since anyone got the drop on me.”

He released Kelsier, letting him slump down and catch himself against the side of the prison, half submerged in the light. He growled, trying to pull himself up after Drifter.