“And he’ll try and bore you with random philosophy when it isn’t,” Breeze added.
Ham sighed. “Breeze, honestly, sometimes I don’t know why I . . .” Ham trailed off as the door opened again, admitting another man.
The newcomer wore a dull tan overcoat, a pair of brown trousers, and a simple white shirt. However, his face was far more distinctive than his clothing. It was knotted and gnarled, like a twisted piece of wood, and his eyes shone with the level of disapproving dissatisfaction only the elderly can display. Vin couldn’t quite place his age—he was young enough that he wasn’t stooped over, yet he was old enough that he made even the middle-aged Breeze look youthful.
The newcomer looked over Vin and the others, huffed disdainfully, then walked to a table on the other side of the room and sat down. His steps were marked by a distinct limp.
Breeze sighed. “I’m going to miss Trap.”
“We all will,” Ham said quietly. “Clubs is very good, though. I’ve worked with him before.”
Breeze studied the newcomer. “I wonder if I could get him to bring my drink over. . . .”
Ham chuckled. “I’d pay money to see you try it.”
“I’m sure you would,” Breeze said.
Vin eyed the newcomer, who seemed perfectly content to ignore her and the other two men. “What’s he?”
“Clubs?” Breeze asked. “He, my dear, is a Smoker. He is what will keep the rest of us from being discovered by an Inquisitor.”
Vin chewed on her lip, digesting the new information as she studied Clubs. The man shot her a glare, and she looked away. As she turned, she noticed that Ham was looking at her.
“I like you, kid,” he said. “The other twixts I’ve worked with have either been too intimidated to talk to us, or they’ve been jealous of us for moving into their territory.”
“Indeed,” Breeze said. “You’re not like most crumbs. Of course, I’d like you a great deal more if you’d go fetch me that glass of wine. . . .”
Vin ignored him, glancing at Ham. “Crumb?”
“That’s what some of the more self-important members of our society call lesser thieves,” Ham said. “They call you crumbs, since you tend to be involved with . . . less inspired projects.”
“No offense intended, of course,” Breeze said.
“Oh, I wouldn’t ever take offense at—” Vin paused, feeling an irregular desire to please the well-dressed man. She glared at Breeze. “Stop that!”
“See, there,” Breeze said, glancing at Ham. “She still retains her ability to choose.”
“You’re hopeless.”
They assume I’m a twixt, Vin thought. So Kelsier hasn’t told them what I am. Why? Time constraints? Or, was the secret too valuable to share? How trustworthy were these men? And, if they thought her a simple “crumb,” why were they being so nice to her?
“Who else are we waiting upon?” Breeze asked, glancing at the doorway. “Besides Kell and Dox, I mean.”
“Yeden,” Ham said.
Breeze frowned with a sour expression. “Ah, yes.”
“I agree,” Ham said. “But, I’d be willing to bet that he feels the same way about us.”
“I don’t even see why he was invited,” Breeze said.
Ham shrugged. “Something to do with Kell’s plan, obviously.”
“Ah, the infamous ‘plan,’ ” Breeze said musingly. “What job could it be, what indeed . . .?”
Ham shook his head. “Kell and his cursed sense of drama.”
“Indeed.”
The door opened a few moments later, and the one they had spoken of, Yeden, entered. He turned out to be an unassuming man, and Vin had trouble understanding why the other two were so displeased about his attendance. Short with curly brown hair, Yeden was dressed in simple gray skaa clothing and a patched, soot-stained brown worker’s coat. He regarded the surroundings with a look of disapproval, but he was nowhere near as openly hostile as Clubs, who still sat on the other side of the room scowling at anyone who looked in his direction.
Not a very big crew, Vin thought. With Kelsier and Dockson, that makes six of them. Of course, Ham had said that he led a group of “Thugs.” Were the men at this meeting simply representatives? The leaders of smaller, more specialized groups? Some crews worked that way.
Breeze checked his pocket watch three more times before Kelsier finally arrived. The Mistborn crewleader burst through the door with his cheery enthusiasm, Dockson sauntering along behind. Ham stood immediately, smiling broadly and clasping hands with Kelsier. Breeze stood as well, and while his greeting was a bit more reserved, Vin had to admit that she had never seen any crewleader welcomed so happily by his men.
“Ah,” Kelsier said, looking toward the other side of the room. “Clubs and Yeden too. So, everyone’s here. Good—I absolutely loathe being made to wait.”
Breeze raised an eyebrow as he and Ham settled back into their chairs, Dockson taking a seat at the same table. “Are we to receive any explanation for your tardiness?”
“Dockson and I were visiting my brother,” Kelsier explained, walking toward the front of the lair. He turned and leaned back against the bar, scanning the room. When Kelsier’s eyes fell on Vin, he winked.
“Your brother?” Ham said. “Is Marsh coming to the meeting?”
Kelsier and Dockson shared a look. “Not tonight,” Kelsier said. “But he’ll join the crew eventually.”
Vin studied the others. They were skeptical. Tension between Kelsier and his brother, perhaps?
Breeze raised his dueling cane, pointing the tip at Kelsier. “All right, Kelsier, you’ve kept this ‘job’ secret from us for eight months now. We know it’s big, we know you’re excited, and we’re all properly annoyed at you for being so secretive. So, why don’t you just go ahead and tell us what it is?”
Kelsier smiled. Then he stood up straight, waving a hand toward the dirty, plain-looking Yeden. “Gentlemen, meet your new employer.”
This was, apparently, quite a shocking statement.
“Him?” Ham asked.
“Him,” Kelsier said with a nod.
“What?” Yeden asked, speaking for the first time. “You have trouble working with someone who actually has morals?”
“It’s not that, my dear man,” Breeze said, setting his dueling cane across his lap. “It’s just that, well, I was under the strange impression that you didn’t like our types very much.”
“I don’t,” Yeden said flatly. “You’re selfish, undisciplined, and you’ve turned your backs on the rest of the skaa. You dress nicely, but on the inside you’re dirty as ash.”
Ham snorted. “I can already see that this job is going to be great for crew morale.”
Vin watched quietly, chewing on her lip. Yeden was obviously a skaa worker, probably a member of a forge or textile mill. What connection did he have with the underground? And . . . how would he be able to afford the services of a thieving crew, especially one as apparently specialized as Kelsier’s team?
Perhaps Kelsier noticed her confusion, for she found him looking at her as the others continued to speak.