Mistborn #01 The Final Empire

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.”
    “Hey!” Dockson said. “Once again, must I point out that someone has to be responsible? Honestly, the way you people go through boxings . . .”
    Vin smiled. Even Dockson’s complaints seemed good-natured. Clubs sat quietly by the side wall, looking as curmudgeonly as ever, but Vin caught sight of a slight smile on his lips. Kelsier rose and opened another bottle of wine, refilling cups as he told the crew about the skaa army’s preparations.
    Vin felt . . . contented. As she sipped at her wine, she caught sight of the open doorway leading into the darkened workshop. She imagined, just for a moment, that she could see a figure out in the shadows—a frightened wisp of a girl, untrusting, suspicious. The girl’s hair was ragged and short, and she wore a simple, untucked dirty shirt and a pair of brown trousers.
    Vin remembered that second night in Clubs’s shop, when she had stood out in the dark workroom, watching the others share late-night conversation. Had she really been that girl—one who would hide in the cold darkness, watching the laughter and friendship with a hidden envy, but never daring to join it?
    Kelsier made some particularly witty comment, drawing laughter from the entire room.
    You’re right, Kelsier, Vin thought with a smile. This is better.
    She wasn’t like them yet—not completely. Six months couldn’t silence Reen’s whispers, and she couldn’t see herself ever being as trusting as Kelsier was. But . . . she could finally understand, at least a little bit, why he worked the way he did.
    “All right,” Kelsier said, pulling over a chair and sitting on it the wrong way. “It looks like the army will be ready on schedule, and Marsh is in place. We need to get this plan moving. Vin, news from the ball?”
    “House Tekiel is vulnerable,” she said. “Its allies are scattering, and the vultures are moving in. Some whisper that debts and lost business will force the Tekiel to sell off their keep by the end of the month. There’s no way they can afford to continue paying the Lord Ruler’s keep tax.”
    “Which effectively