“He did?”
Vin nodded.
“My mistake,” Kelsier said. “You should probably have Saze fetch you a cloak before you leave the party—you’ve got ash all over the front of your dress. I’ll meet you back at Clubs’s shop—have the carriage drop you and Sazed off there, then continue on out of the city. That’ll keep up appearances.”
Vin nodded again, and Kelsier winked and jumped off the wall into the mists.
* * *
In the end, I must trust in myself. I have seen men who have beaten from themselves the ability to recognize truth and goodness, and I do not think I am one of them. I can still see the tears in a young child’s eyes and feel pain at his suffering.
If I ever lose this, then I will know that I’ve passed beyond hope of redemption.
24
Kelsier was already at the shop when Vin and Sazed arrived. He sat with Ham, Clubs, and Spook in the kitchen, enjoying a late-night drink.
“Ham!” Vin said eagerly as she came in the back door. “You’re back!”
“Yup,” he said happily, raising his cup.
“It seems like you’ve been gone forever!”
“You’re telling me,” Ham said, his voice earnest.
Kelsier chuckled, rising to refill his drink. “Ham’s a bit tired of playing general.”
“I had to wear a uniform,” Ham complained, stretching. He now wore his customary vest and trousers. “Even plantation skaa don’t have to deal with that kind of torture.”
“Try wearing a formal gown sometime,” Vin said, seating herself. She’d brushed off the front of her dress, and it didn’t look half as bad as she’d feared. The blackish gray ash still showed up a bit against the dark fabric, and the fibers were rough where she’d rubbed against stone, but both were barely noticeable.
Ham laughed. “It seems that you’ve turned into a proper young lady while I was gone.”
“Hardly,” Vin said as Kelsier handed her a cup of wine. She paused briefly, then took a sip.
“Mistress Vin is being modest, Master Hammond,” Sazed said, taking a seat. “She’s growing quite proficient at courtly arts—better than many actual nobles that I have known.”
Vin flushed, and Ham laughed again. “Humility, Vin? Where’d you ever learn a bad habit like that?”
“Not from me, certainly,” Kelsier said, offering Sazed a cup of wine. The Terrisman raised his hand in a respectful refusal.
“Of course she didn’t get it from you, Kell,” Ham said. “Maybe Spook taught her. He seems to be the only one in this crew who knows how to keep his mouth shut, eh, kid?”
Spook flushed, obviously trying to avoid looking at Vin.
I’ll have to deal with him sometime, she thought. But . . . not tonight. Kelsier’s back and Elend’s not a murderer—this is a night to relax.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and a moment later Dockson strolled into the room. “A party? And no one sent for me?”
“You seemed busy,” Kelsier said.
“Besides,” Ham added, “we know you’re too responsible to sit around and get drunk with a bunch of miscreants like us.”
“Someone has to keep this crew running,” Dockson said lightheartedly, pouring himself a drink. He paused, frowning at Ham. “That vest looks familiar. . . .”
Ham smiled. “I ripped the arms off of my uniform coat.”
“You didn’t!” Vin said with a smile.
Ham nodded, looking self-satisfied.
Dockson sighed, continuing to fill his cup. “Ham, those things cost money.”
“Everything costs money,” Ham said. “But, what is money? A physical representation of the abstract concept of effort. Well, wearing that uniform for so long was a pretty mean effort. I’d say that this vest and I are even now.”
Dockson just rolled his eyes. In the main room, the shop’s front door opened and closed, and Vin heard Breeze bid hello to the apprentice on watch.
“By the way, Dox,” Kelsier said, leaning with his back against a cupboard. “I’m going to need a few ‘physical representations of the concept of effort’ myself. I’d like to rent a small warehouse to conduct some of my informant meetings.”
“That can probably be arranged,” Dockson said. “Assuming we keep Vin’s wardrobe budget under control, I—” He broke off, glancing at Vin. “What did you do to that gown, young lady!”
Vin flushed, scrunching down in her chair. Perhaps it’s a bit more noticeable than I thought. . . .
Kelsier chuckled. “You may have to get used to dirtied clothing, Dox. Vin’s back on Mistborn duty as of this evening.”
“Interesting,” Breeze said, entering the kitchen. “Might I suggest that she avoid fighting three Steel Inquisitors at once this time?”
“I’ll do my best,” Vin said.
Breeze strolled over to the table and chose a seat with his characteristic decorum. The portly man raised his dueling cane, pointing it at Ham. “I see that my period of intellectual respite has come to an end.”
Ham smiled. “I thought up a couple beastly questions while I was gone, and I’ve been saving them just for you, Breeze.”
“I’m dying of anticipation,” Breeze said. He turned his cane toward Lestibournes. “Spook, drink.”
Spook rushed over and fetched Breeze a cup of wine.
“He’s such a fine lad,” Breeze noted, accepting the drink. “I barely even have to nudge him Allomantically. If only the rest of you ruffians were so accommodating.”
Spook frowned. “Niceing the not on the playing without.”
“I have no idea what you just said, child,” Breeze said. “So I’m simply going to pretend it was coherent, then move on.”
Kelsier rolled his eyes. “Losing the stress on the nip,” he said. “Notting without the needing of care.”
“Riding the rile of the rids to the right,” Spook said with a nod.
“What are you two babbling about?” Breeze said testily.
“Wasing the was of brightness,” Spook said. “Nip the having of wishing of this.”
“Ever wasing the doing of this,” Kelsier agreed.
“Ever wasing the wish of having the have,” Ham added with a smile. “Brighting the wish of wasing the not.”
Breeze turned to Dockson with exasperation. “I believe our companions have finally lost their minds, dear friend.”
Dockson shrugged. Then, with a perfectly straight face, he said, “Wasing not of wasing is.”
Breeze sat, dumbfounded, and the room burst into laughter. Breeze rolled his eyes indignantly, shaking his head and muttering about the crew’s gross childishness.
Vin nearly choked on her wine as she laughed. “What did you even say?” she asked of Dockson as he sat down beside her.
“I’m not sure,” he confessed. “It just sounded right.”
“I don’t think you said anything, Dox,” Kelsier said.
“Oh, he said something,” Spook said. “It just didn’t mean anything.”
Kelsier laughed. “That’s true pretty much all the time. I’ve found you can ignore half of what Dox tells you and not miss much—except for maybe the occasional complaint that you’re spending too much.”