Mistborn: The Final Empire (Mistborn #1)(39)

No ash in the corners, she thought, eyeing the ?oor. The room is kept swept. She’d never lived in such a place before. It was almost like living in some nobleman’s house.

She glanced back at the kitchen women. They wore simple dresses of white and gray, with scarves around the tops of their heads and long tails of hair hanging out the back. Vin ?ngered her own hair. She kept it short, like a boy’s—her current, ragged cut had been given by one of the other crewmembers. She wasn’t like these women—she never had been. By Reen’s command, Vin had lived so that other crewmembers would think of her as a thief ?rst and a girl second.

But, what am I now? Perfumed by her bath, yet wearing the tan trousers and buttoning shirt of an apprentice craftsman, she felt distinctly out of place. And that was bad—if she felt awkward, then she undoubtedly looked awkward too. Something else to make her stand out.

Vin turned, eyeing the workroom. The apprentices were already about their morning labors, working on various bits of furniture. They stayed in the back while Clubs worked in the main showroom, putting detailed ?nishing touches on the pieces.

The back kitchen door suddenly slammed open. Vin slipped re?exively to the side, putting her back to a wall and peeking around into the kitchen.

Ham stood in the kitchen doorway, framed by red sunlight. He wore a loose shirt and vest, both sleeveless, and carried several large packs. He wasn’t dirtied by soot—none of the crew had ever been, the few times Vin had seen them.

Ham walked through the kitchen and into the workroom. “So,” he said, dropping his packs, “anyone know which room is mine?”

“I’ll ask Master Cladent,” one of the apprentices said, moving into the front room.

Ham smiled, stretching, then turned toward Vin. “Morning, Vin. You know, you don’t have to hide from me. We’re on the same team.”

Vin relaxed but remained where she was, standing beside a line of mostly ?nished chairs. “You’re going to live here too?”

“It always pays to stay near the Smoker,” Ham said, turning and disappearing back into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a stack of four large baywraps. “Anyone know where Kell is?”

“Sleeping,” Vin said. “He came in late last night, and hasn’t gotten up yet.”

Ham grunted, taking a bite of a baywrap. “Dox?”

“In his room on the third ?oor,” Vin said. “He got up early, came down to get something to eat, and went back upstairs.” She didn’t add that she knew, from peeking through the keyhole, that he was sitting at his desk scribbling on some papers.

Ham raised an eyebrow. “You always keep track of where everyone is like that?”

“Yes.”

Ham paused, then chuckled. “You’re an odd kid, Vin.” He gathered up his packs as the apprentice returned, and the two moved up the stairs. Vin stood, listening to their footsteps. They stopped about halfway down the ?rst hallway, perhaps a few doors from her room.

The scent of steamed barley enticed her. Vin eyed the kitchen. Ham had gone in and taken food. Was she allowed to do the same?

Trying to look con?dent, Vin strode into the kitchen. A pile of baywraps sat on a platter, probably to be delivered to the apprentices as they worked. Vin picked up two of them. None of the women objected; in fact, a few of them even nodded respectfully toward her.

I’m an important person now, she thought with a measure of discomfort. Did they know that she was…Mistborn? Or was she simply treated with respect because she was a guest?

Eventually, Vin took a third baywrap and ?ed to her room. It was more food than she could possibly eat; however, she intended to scrape out the barley and save the ?atbread, which would keep well should she need it later.

A knock came at her door. Vin answered it, pulling the door open with a careful motion. A young man stood outside—the boy who had been with Clubs back at Camon’s lair the night before.

Thin, tall, and awkward-looking, he was dressed in gray clothing. He was perhaps fourteen, though his height might have made him look older than he was. He seemed nervous for some reason.

“Yes?” Vin asked.

“Um…”

Vin frowned. “What?”

“You’re wanted,” he said in a thick Eastern accent. “Ups in the where above with the doing. With Master Jumps to the third ?oor. Uh, I’ve gotta go.” The boy blushed, then turned and hurried away, scrambling up the stairs.

Vin stood in the doorway of her room, dumbfounded. Was that supposed to make any sense? she wondered.



She peeked into the hallway. The boy had seemed like he expected her to follow him. Finally, she decided to do so, carefully making her way up the steps.

Voices were coming from an open door at the end of the hallway. Vin approached and peeked around the corner to ?nd a well-decorated room, set with a ?ne rug and comfortable-looking chairs. A hearth burned at the side of the room, and the chairs were arranged to point toward a large charcoal writing board set atop an easel.

Kelsier stood, leaning one elbow resting against the brick hearth, a cup of wine in his hand. Angling herself slightly, Vin could see that he was talking to Breeze. The Soother had arrived well into midday, and had appropriated half of Clubs’s apprentices to unload his possessions. Vin had watched from her window as the apprentices had carried the luggage— disguised as boxes of lumber scraps—up to Breeze’s room. Breeze himself hadn’t bothered to help.