“Well, you wanted to know,” Vin said. “It was worst right after he died. When you came to be my servant, by his order. You never even spoke of what you’d done.”
“The Contract, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “You do not wish to hear this, perhaps, but I was bound. Kelsier did not wish you to know of his plans, so I could not tell you. Hate me if you must, but I do not regret my actions.”
“I don’t hate you.” I got over that. “But, honestly, you wouldn’t even break the Contract for his own good? You served Kelsier for two years. Didn’t it even hurt you to know he was going to die?”
“Why should I care if one master or another dies?” OreSeur said. “There is always another to take their place.”
“Kelsier wasn’t that kind of master,” Vin said.
“Wasn’t he?”
“No.”
“I apologize, Mistress,” OreSeur said. “I will believe as commanded, then.”
Vin opened her mouth to reply, then snapped it closed. If he was determined to keep thinking like a fool, then it was his right to do so. He could continue to resent masters, just as …
Just as she resented him. For keeping his word, for holding to his Contract.
Ever since I’ve known him, I’ve done nothing but treat him poorly, Vin thought. First, when he was Renoux, I reacted against his haughty bearing—but that bearing wasn’t his, it was part of the act he had to play. Then, as OreSeur, I avoided him. Hated him, even, for letting Kelsier die. Now I’ve forced him into an animal’s body.
And, in two years of knowing him, the only times I’ve asked about his past, I did it so that I could glean more information about his people so that I could find the impostor.
Vin watched the mists. Of all the people in the crew, only OreSeur had been an outsider. He hadn’t been invited to their conferences. He hadn’t inherited a position in the government. He’d helped as much as any of them, playing a vital role—that of the “spirit” Kelsier, who had returned from the grave to incite the skaa to their final rebellion. Yet, while the rest of them had titles, friendships, and duties, the only thing OreSeur had gained from overthrowing the Final Empire was another master.
One who hated him.
No wonder he reacts like he does, Vin thought. Kelsier’s last words to her returned to her mind: You have a lot to learn about friendship, Vin. … Kell and the others had invited her in, treated her with dignity and friendliness, even when she hadn’t deserved it.
“OreSeur,” she said, “what was your life like before you were recruited by Kelsier?”
“I don’t see what that has to do with finding the impostor, Mistress,” OreSeur said.
“It doesn’t have anything to do with that,” Vin said. “I just thought maybe I should get to know you better.”
“My apologies, Mistress, but I don’t want you to know me.”
Vin sighed. So much for that.
But … well, Kelsier and the others hadn’t turned away when she’d been blunt with them. There was a familiar tone to OreSeur’s words. Something in them that she recognized.
“Anonymity,” Vin said quietly.
“Mistress?”
“Anonymity. Hiding, even when you’re with others. Being quiet, unobtrusive. Forcing yourself to stay apart—emotionally, at least. It’s a way of life. A protection.”
OreSeur didn’t answer.
“You serve beneath masters,” Vin said. “Harsh men who fear your competence. The only way to keep them from hating you is to make certain they don’t pay attention to you. So, you make yourself look small and weak. Not a threat. But sometimes you say the wrong thing, or you let your rebelliousness show.”
She turned toward him. He was watching her. “Yes,” he finally said, turning to look back over the city.
“They hate you,” Vin said quietly. “They hate you because of your powers, because they can’t make you break your word, or because they worry that you are too strong to control.”
“They become afraid of you,” OreSeur said. “They grow paranoid—terrified, even as they use you, that you will take their place. Despite the Contract, despite knowing that no kandra would break his sacred vow, they fear you. And men hate what they fear.”
“And so,” Vin said, “they find excuses to beat you. Sometimes, even your efforts to remain harmless seem to provoke them. They hate your skill, they hate the fact that they don’t have more reasons to beat you, so they beat you.”
OreSeur turned back to her. “How do you know these things?” he demanded.
Vin shrugged. “That’s not only how they treat kandra, OreSeur. That’s the same way crewleaders treat a young girl—an anomaly in a thieving underground filled with men. A child who had a strange ability to make things happen—to influence people, to hear what she shouldn’t, to move more quietly and quickly than others. A tool, yet a threat at the same time.”
“I … didn’t realize, Mistress. …”
Vin frowned. How could he not have known about my past? He knew I was a street urchin. Except … had he? For the first time, Vin realized how OreSeur must have seen her two years before, when she’d first met him. He had arrived in the area after her recruitment; he probably assumed that she’d been part of Kelsier’s team for years, like the others.
“Kelsier recruited me for the first time just a few days before I met you,” Vin said. “Well, actually, he didn’t so much recruit me as rescue me. I spent my childhood serving in one thieving crew after another, always working for the least reputable and most dangerous men, for those were the only ones who would take in a couple of transients like my brother and me. The smart crewleaders learned that I was a good tool. I’m not sure if they figured out that I was an Allomancer—some probably did, others just thought I was ‘lucky.’ Either way, they needed me. And that made them hate me.”
“So they beat you?”
Vin nodded. “The last one especially. That was when I was really beginning to figure out how to use Allomancy, even though I didn’t know what it was. Camon knew, though. And he hated me even as he used me. I think he was afraid that I would figure out how to use my powers fully. And on that day, he worried that I would kill him …” Vin turned her head, looking at OreSeur. “Kill him and take his place as crewleader.”
OreSeur sat quietly, up on his haunches now, regarding her.
“Kandra aren’t the only ones that humans treat poorly,” Vin said quietly. “We’re pretty good at abusing each other, too.”
OreSeur snorted. “With you, at least, they had to hold back for fear they’d kill you. Have you ever been beaten by a master who knows that no matter how hard he hits, you won’t die? All he has to do is get you a new set of bones, and you’ll be ready to serve again the next day. We are the ultimate servant—you can beat us to death in the morning, then have us serve you dinner that night. All the sadism, none of the cost.”
Vin closed her eyes. “I understand. I wasn’t a kandra, but I did have pewter. I think Camon knew he could beat me far harder than he should have been able to.”