Mistborn #01 The Final Empire

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