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she’d seen Kholinar—only that once, when they’d executed King Gavilar. Now, smoke rose in patches throughout the city, and many of the guard towers had been shattered. The city gates lay broken. Kholinar, it seemed, had been conquered. Rine and his companions zipped through the air, raising fists toward other Fused. Th... |
who provided essential publishing and editorial aid during the course of the novel’s creation. Others at Tor who provided help include Robert Davis, Melissa Singer, Rachel Bass, and Patty Garcia. Karl Gold was our Production Manager and Nathan Weaver the Managing Editor, with Meryl Gross and Rafal Gibek in trade produc... |
Between a cross-continent move, a demanding day job, and the needs of a growing family, Ben has been ever consistent in delivering top-notch illustrations. He is a great artist and a quality human being. Also lending their talents to this volume with full-page illustrations are Miranda Meeks and Kelley Harris. Both hav... |
can get. You hold in your hands a volume I’ve been preparing and outlining for almost two decades. May you enjoy your time in Roshar. Journey before destination. SIX YEARS AGO Eshonai had always told her sister that she was certain something wonderful lay over the next hill. Then one day, she’d crested a hill and found... |
dull eyes. “Go,” she said to Pleading, waving toward the nearby festivities, where listeners and human servants laughed together, despite the language barrier. Humans clapped along to listeners singing the old songs. “Enjoy yourselves.” A few looked toward the singing and cocked their heads, but they didn’t move. “It w... |
a mountainside. She made her way toward the feast hall to check if she was needed, but stopped here and there to glance into rooms. She’d been told she could wander as she pleased, that the palace was open to her save for areas with guards at the doors. She passed a room with paintings on all the walls, then one with a... |
Why did he smile at her like that? What was he hiding, by not singing to the rhythms to calm her? “Sit, Eshonai,” the king said. “Oh, don’t be frightened, little scout. I’ve been wanting to speak to you. Your mastery of our language is unique!” She settled on a chair while Gavilar reached down and removed something fro... |
by capturing a spren. An ancient, crucial spren.” He looked at her, green eyes alight. “I’ve seen how that can be reversed. A new storm that will bring the Heralds out of hiding. A new war.” “Insanity.” She rose to her feet. “Our gods tried to destroy you.” “The old Words must be spoken again.” “You can’t…” She trailed... |
trying with each beat to banish the things the king had said. And the things she’d just done. The Five sat at the high table, the remnants of their final course uneaten. He intends to bring back our gods, she’d told the Five. Close your eyes. Focus on the rhythms. He can do it. He knows so much. Furious beats pulsing t... |
that would really show off what I can do as a writer. Mistborn has become one of my hallmark series, and I hope that you find this volume a worthy entry in the canon. As always, this book involved the efforts of a great number of people. There’s the excellent art by Ben McSweeney and Isaac Stewarϯ—maps and icons by Isa... |
mouthful! These folks are wonderful, and if you compare my early books to my later ones, I think you’ll find that the assistance of these people has been invaluable in not only slaying typos but also helping me tighten narratives. Finally, though, I’d like to thank you readers for sticking with me these ten years, and ... |
them used their Allomancy much these days. In the Village, it was their Terris side—their Feruchemy—that was lauded. The fact that both he and Forch were Coinshots didn’t matter to the Terris. “Let’s go,” Telsin said. “No more arguing. We probably don’t have much time. If my brother wants to tag along, then fine.” They... |
street—though granted, it had a stone archway etched with ancient Terris symbols for the sixteen metals. Beyond it lay a different world. Glowing gas lamps marching along streets, newsboys trudging home for the night with unsold broadsheets tucked under their arms. Workers heading to the rowdy pubs for a drink. He’d ne... |
Grandmother seated at her desk, a picture of Terris rectitude, with her hair in a braid and her robes immaculate. The man standing across the desk from her held his constable’s hat under his arm as a sign of respect. He was an older man with drooping mustaches, and the insignia on his breast marked him as a captain and... |
said. “A reminder.” Grandmother slapped it off the table, sending it snapping against the wall near where Waxillium hid. He jumped back and crouched lower, heart pounding. “Do not bring your instruments of death into this place,” Grandmother hissed. Waxillium got back to the window in time to see the constable settling... |
be sensed as surely as an imminent thunderstorm. He continued more softly. “No, Grandmother. Finding out what’s right isn’t easy.” “It is written in our ways. It is taught every day in your lessons.” “That’s one voice,” Waxillium said, “one philosophy. There are so many.…” Grandmother reached across the desk and put he... |
homes—or in Waxillium’s case, the dormitories. He remained kneeling anyway. Tellingdwar started gathering up the mats people had used for kneeling. He kept his head shaved; his robes were bright yellows and oranges. Arms laden with mats, he paused as he noticed Waxillium hadn’t left with the others. “Asinthew? Are you ... |
thoughts tumbling in his head. He’d have to make a decision soon. The agreement between his grandmother and his parents required Waxillium to spend one year in the Village, and only a month of that remained. After that, it would be his choice whether to stay or to leave. What awaited him outside? White tablecloths, pos... |
There. A pool of water on the floor. Someone had entered here recently. He followed in a crouch, touching the footprints one after another, until he reached the stairwell. Up one flight, then another. What was up here? He reached the top floor and saw a light ahead. Waxillium crept through a hallway with a rug down the... |
a handful of nails. That’s right. Forch is a— Waxillium shouted, throwing himself toward a pile of furniture as nails zipped from Forch’s hand, Pushed by his Allomancy. They hit like hail, snapping against wooden tables, chair legs, and the floor. A sudden pain struck Wax in the arm as he scuttled backward. He cried ou... |
cutting a line in the side of his foot before being propelled down into the ground by his weight. Waxillium jerked in the air, slowing as soon as the bit of metal hit the ground. He crashed onto the sodden pathway feet-first, pain jolting up his legs. He fell back to the ground, and found himself dazed but alive. His P... |
A bullet. Three parts metal. The tip. Metal is your soul. The casing. You preserve us … And the knob at the back. The spot the hammer would hit. In that moment, to Waxillium’s eyes, they split into three lines, three parts. He took them all in at once. And then, as the bar crushed him, he let go of two bits. And shoved... |
but flatter on top. Who was that man again? He counted his crew. Nine? The lad next to Migs smiled, tipped his hat, then decked him in the face. It was over blurringly quick. The fellow in the coachman’s cap laid out Slink and Guillian in an eyeblink. Then suddenly he was closer to the two on the far side, slapping the... |
plan you always have,” Wax said. “The one where I get to be the decoy.” “Ain’t my fault people like to shoot at you, mate,” Wayne said as they reached the coach. “You should be happy; you’re usin’ your talents, like me granners always said a man should do.” “I’d rather not have ‘shootability’ be my talent.” “Well, you ... |
easily, with its large glass and steel dome. Back in Weathering a simple wooden chapel had been sufficient, but that wasn’t nearly grand enough for Elendel. The design was to allow those who worshipped full view of the mists at night. Wax figured if they wanted to see the mists, they’d do better just stepping outside. ... |
of my wedding, I’ll only reinforce this image that society has of me.” “Which image?” “That of a ruffian,” he said, taking off his mistcoat and handing it to Drewton. “A barely civilized lout from the Roughs who curses in church and goes to parties armed.” She glanced at his shotgun, which he’d tossed onto the sofa. “Y... |
Drewton fuss with his collar. “I don’t get it, Steris,” he said, standing stiffly as the valet worked. “You prepare so thoroughly for things to go wrong—like you know and expect that life is unpredictable.” “Yes, and?” “And life is unpredictable. So the only thing you do by preparing for disturbances is ensure that som... |
but a knock at the door heralded Marasi sticking her head in to check on them. With dark hair and softer, rounder features than Steris, Marasi wore bright red lipstick and a progressive lady’s attire—a pleated skirt, with a tight buttoned jacket. “Finally,” she said. “Crowd is getting fidgety. Wax, there’s a man here w... |
moving again, stepping with her beside the last door before they entered the dome. “Ready?” “Yes, thank you.” Was she … teary-eyed? It was an expression of emotion he’d never seen from her. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Yes,” she said. “Forgive me. It’s just … more wonderful than I’d imagined.” They pushed open the d... |
not be a coward. He held Steris’s hands, but couldn’t look at her. Instead, he turned his face upward to look out the glass dome toward the sky. Most of it was crowded out by the buildings. Skyscrapers on two sides, windows glistening in the morning sun. That water tower certainly did block the view, though as he watch... |
truly dangerous. The worst injury was to Lord Steming, who fell and knocked his head when scrambling off his seat.” “No more than an accident then,” Steris said. She flopped backward onto the dais, the carpet letting out a soft squish. “I’m sorry.” “It’s not your fault.” She sighed. “Do you ever wonder if perhaps the c... |
corporals—stood about looking as if they were in charge. That sort of thing was important in a crisis; statistics showed that if a uniformed authority figure was nearby, people were less likely to panic. Of course, there was also a smaller percentage who were more likely to panic if an authority figure was nearby. Beca... |
what you’re celebrating,” Marasi said, flipping open her notebook. “Bolts securing the water tower in place were definitely loosened. Road below was conspicuously empty, some ruffians—from another octant entirely, I might add—having stopped traffic by starting a fistfight in the middle of the rusting street.” Wayne gru... |
half of it,” Marasi said, leaning back on the counter, hands behind her. “You want gruesome? She also supposedly ripped out the Lord Ruler’s insides. I’ve seen it depicted in several illuminated manuscripts.” “Kind of graphic for a religious-type story.” “Actually, they’re all like that. I think they have to put in lot... |
you drink something what tastes like dishwater first,” Wayne said, then pulled the cork out with his teeth, which was kind of impressive, she had to admit. He poured her a cup, then one for himself. “To moving on?” he asked. “Sure. To moving on.” She raised her cup, and saw reflected in the wine someone standing behind... |
At the same time, it felt like things back then had been simple. Not always easy, but simple. And some scars continued to ache. Seemed to get worse with time. He rose with a groan, leg stiff, and continued up the steps. Nobody opened the door for him or took his coat as he entered. He maintained a small staff in the ho... |
down, plunging the room into almost complete darkness, save for two small new electric lamps. Why the closed curtains? Was the kandra that concerned about being seen? Wayne lounged in Wax’s easy chair, feet up on the cocktail table, helping himself to a bowl of walnuts. A woman stretched out in a similar posture in the... |
saying nothing as VenDell turned on his machine. An image appeared on the wall. Wax froze. It was a picture, similar to an evanotype—only on the wall and quite large. It displayed the Field of Rebirth in the center of Elendel, where the tombs of Vin and Elend Venture were to be found. He’d never seen anything like that... |
him in thanks. “Chivalry,” she said, raising it. “Manipulation,” VenDell said. “Miss Colms, I spoke to you earlier of Investiture and Identity. I promised you an explanation. Here.” He flipped something on his machine, changing the image on the wall to a list of Feruchemical metals, their attributes, and their natures.... |
realizing that most of them had already been alive for hundreds of years when the World of Ash had ended. These were ancient beings. Perhaps Wax should not be surprised by their presumption. To them, he—indeed, everyone else alive—was little more than a child. “Identity,” VenDell said, slapping his reed against the wal... |
anyone?” Understanding settled on Wax like a slowly burned metal. From the chair beside the image device, Wayne whistled slowly. “Anyone could be a Feruchemist,” Wax said. VenDell nodded. “Investiture—the innate ability to burn metals or tap metalminds—is also one of the things Feruchemy can store. Lord Waxillium … the... |
Edwarn—the man known as Mister Suit—was trying to breed Allomancers. What would he do with Hemalurgy, if he knew about it? “We need to stay ahead of those who might use this for ill purposes,” VenDell said. “We need to experiment and determine how these Identity-free metalminds would work.” “Doing so will be dangerous,... |
when. “The mythology surrounding the Bands is quite extensive. You can find myths about them dating back to before the Catacendre, and you can find someone telling new ones in a pub around the corner, invented on the spot for your amusement. But a theme runs through them all—if you held the Lord Ruler’s bracers, you su... |
face of the man in the mosaic had eyes upturned and lips parted as if in awe at what he held. He wore the bracers on his arms. Wax turned around, but standing in the stream of light he couldn’t see anything in the room. “You mean to tell me your brother, this ReLuur, actually found the Bands of Mourning?” “He found som... |
his own spikes to give our fallen brother a few moments of lucidity. It was very painful for TenSoon, and—unfortunately—accomplished nothing. ReLuur only screamed, begging for his spike. He spat out TenSoon’s a moment later. Trying to use someone else’s spikes when you don’t have your own already can provoke radical ch... |
white wall, trying—fruitlessly—to feel the image. “Impossible.” She stood between two men who held to her arms tightly, as if pulling her forward against her will. Keeping her prisoner even in broad daylight. She had glanced over her shoulder toward the camera as the evanotype was taken. It must be one of the new model... |
wasn’t the only god, anyway. And that was what Wayne was about today. After some silence, Wax continued, more softly. “I have to go. Even after what they did, if my uncle is really involved in this … if I can free Telsin … I have to go. Tomorrow night, there will be a gathering of the outer cities political elite in Ne... |
at his head. “You’re a Bloodmaker, correct? Can heal yourself? Bloodmaker bones tend to be particularly interesting, as your time spent weak and sickly creates oddities in your joints and bones that can be quite distinctive. I’d love to have your skeleton. If you don’t mind.” Taken aback by this request, Wayne stopped ... |
list.” “We’ll be there, VenDell,” Wax said. “Excellent,” the kandra fellow said, fishing in his pocket. Wayne got interested, until he came out with a dull old bent earring, simple, old-style. “I brought you one of these.” “No thanks.” “But, if you need to—” “No thanks,” Wax said. The look between the two of them grew ... |
poling, so gleeful at the prospect of many hours of employment that he forgot to ask for any money up front. “Fifty,” the man finally said. “Hmm?” “Fifty. For the whole day.” “Yes, yes, fine,” Wayne said. Dirty thief, he thought. Trying to cheat an upstanding citizen, and a house lord at that, merely because he acted a... |
man was really anxious. “Sorry, my lord,” he said, poling to the side of the canal. “Very sorry. Can’t do it.” “At least take me to Stansel—” “No!” the man yelped. “Nope, can’t do it. Gotta go.” “Well,” Wayne huffed, climbing out. “I’ve never been treated in such a manner! And we’re not even halfway down portway!” “Sor... |
him to give you fifty, and you gave him back forty.” “What?” Wayne said, stuffing the wallet in his back pocket. “You know I can’t count that high, Dent. ’Sides, gave him ten extra at the end.” “For his wallet.” “Nah,” Wayne said. “The flower was for the wallet. The bill was ’cuz I somehow ended up with an extra ten co... |
awaited tips. “Here now,” the man said. “What’s this?” He squinted. “A spoon?” “Merchants are apparently desperate for the things!” Wayne called. “They’ll give you half a hunnerd meat buns for one, with change to boot. Now, give me ‘The Last Breath,’ minstrel!” The man shrugged, and started plucking the song from Wayne... |
Wayne shouted, hand on his wet hat, running for all he was worth. “Come back here!” Wayne dashed out onto the main street along the canal, passing a couple of old men sitting on a tenement’s steps near the entrance to the slums. “That’s Edip’s boy,” one of them said. “Always gettin’ himself into trouble, that one is.” ... |
to himself, then turned and continued walking away. “What’s this?” she said from behind him. He kept walking. “Wayne!” she shouted at him. “I’ll shoot you, right now. I swear I will. Tell me what you’ve done.” He turned around. “It’s just a gift, Ranette.” “A notebook?” she asked, flipping the pages. He shoved his hand... |
on his way. “What is that song?” she called after him. “I know it.” “‘The Last Breath,’” he said without turning back. “The pianoforte was playin’ it when we first met.” He turned the corner, and didn’t look back. Didn’t even check if she’d sighted on him with a rifle or something. Feeling a spring in his step, he made... |
fact, as the thing finally started to chug into motion, he swung out his compartment’s window—much to Herve’s consternation—and climbed up onto the roof. He sat there whistling softly, watching Elendel pass for a time, wind ruffling his hair. A simple tune, easy and familiar, and the accompanying beat played on the tra... |
the platform. A few hopped onto the tracks and shook fists. “Steris?” he asked, packing away Ranette’s box. “Have you paid attention to the outer cities situation?” No reply came. He glanced toward his fiancée, who still sat across the compartment from him, huddled in her seat with a blanket around her shoulders. She d... |
it also lets us tax practically all goods shipped throughout the entire Basin,” Steris said. “By outer cities arguments, that means we’re taxing them twice. First by our levies to maintain the railway lines, then a second time by making them pass everything through us. They’ve lobbied for years to get some direct lines... |
last six months have been difficult. You can be excused for letting your attention toward politics lapse.” He continued looking out the window. Following Lessie’s first death, he’d lost himself. He’d determined not to react that way again, and had thrown his attention into working with the constables. Anything to keep ... |
ourselves— You’re doing it again.” Wax started, sitting up straighter. “Excuse me.” “Distant look in your eyes,” Steris noted. “Aren’t you the one who is always talking about the responsibility men have to uphold the law?” “Different thing entirely.” “But your responsibility to your house—” “—is why I’m here, Steris,” ... |
title,” Wax said. “It goes both ways.” Steris settled back, breathing in and out through her teeth for a few moments. Finally she cracked one eye. “You can shoot things too.” “What every proper lady needs in a man.” “Murdering is very traditional. Goes all the way back.” Wax smiled. “Actually, if you want to be strictl... |
“An odd position,” Steris said, cocking her head, “for a lawman.” “Not at all,” Wax said. He thought for a moment, then crossed to his side of the chamber again and dug into Ranette’s box, getting out one of the metal spheres wound with a long cord. “Do you recognize this?” “I noticed you looking at it earlier.” Wax no... |
because sitting in a stuffy room and listening to people complain is the opposite of discovery.” “No!” Steris said. “Every meeting is a mystery, Lord Waxillium. What are their motives? What quiet lies are they telling, and what truths can you discover?” She tossed his sphere back to him, then took her suitcase and set ... |
drew this sketch without prompting, muttering about the thing he had seen. Something is wrong with the eyes of the creature. Perhaps spikes? Spikes. Marasi pulled her purse from under the table, digging into it as the couple at the table behind her laughed loudly, calling for more wine. Marasi pushed aside the two-shot... |
right? She needed to see if they’d created some kind of mass grave for people killed in that explosion. Of course, if the Set knew what to look for in a kandra’s corpse, they might have recovered the spike. The pictures—and the possibility they were experimenting with Hemalurgy—made that more plausible. So that was ano... |
“No,” she said. “But … I don’t know, Wayne. I studied law in the first place—studied famous lawkeepers—because I wanted to become something others thought I couldn’t. I got the job at the precinct, and thought I’d accomplished something, but Aradel later admitted he was first interested in hiring me because he wanted s... |
holster, if you know what I mean. So he stumbles out into the street all bleedin’, and that’s where the constables found him and told him you can’t be killin’ no lions. There’s a law about it, see, as they’re some kind of noble natural treasure, or some such. “Anyway, they took Chip and stuffed him in jail, where they ... |
gas, with bright, steady mantles. She liked progress, but these seemed much less reliable—they’d waver when the train slowed, for example. She crossed to the final car, then passed her own room and walked toward the room where Waxillium and Steris had taken dinner, to check on them. Both were still there, surprisingly.... |
was surprised to see moving off into the distance. She gaped for a moment, and then the door at the other end of the car burst open. The man standing on the platform beyond leveled a gun down the corridor and fired. 7 “Well, I think you showed a real talent for this, Lord Waxillium, as I believe I suggested—” Wax stopp... |
peeking out. And Steris was on the built-in seat, remarkably composed. “Robbers?” Steris asked. “Really, Lord Waxillium, must you bring your hobbies with you everywhere we go?” “They’re going after the rest of the train,” Wax said, pointing. “The first thieves must have recognized this car as a private one, probably lu... |
sound. He redoubled his Push as he thought he heard gunfire ahead of him. A moment later, his car slammed into the train proper. Wax let go, dropping to the platform, his back aching. The couplers had engaged, however, and the car remained attached to the rest of the train. He peeked into the car, then ducked in, passi... |
launch himself upward. Marasi fired a few quick shots inside, and hopefully the robbers would assume his shot had been inside as well. Soaring high, wind whipping at his hair and suit coat, he shot a second bullet into the ground, but farther out, and used it to nudge himself to the right—placing him above the train. H... |
“Steel flakes in suspension,” she said, wiggling the vial. “Since when have you carried one of these?” Wax asked, taking it from her. “Since about six months ago. I put one into my purse in case you might need it.” She raised her other hand, displaying two more. “I carry the other two because I’m neurotic.” He grinned,... |
and dropped to the platform, noticing figures moving in the smoke, stooping beside the safe, removing its contents. Others started firing at him. He ducked to the side, then Pushed the door to the courier car closed, blocking the gunfire with the reinforced metal door. He grabbed the wounded guard under the arms and pu... |
metal. There was nothing inside of him to burn. His steel reserves had—somehow—vanished. * * * Marasi fired three shots with the rifle, driving the bandits in the next car back under cover. Impressive, she thought, absently handing the weapon to Steris for reloading. She’d always used a target rifle before. You took on... |
same since her kidnapping eighteen months back. It wasn’t that Steris acted traumatized—but she’d changed. “They aren’t trying to get to us anymore,” Drewton said. “Did they retreat?” “Maybe,” Marasi said. Probably not. “Should we go look?” Drewton asked. “We?” “Well, you.” He tugged at his collar. “Gunfights. I had no... |
were slim, but this was Steris. Who knew what she had planned for? Marasi passed Drewton, who sat morosely on a seat in one of the first-class cabins, obviously wondering how an expert cravat-tier had ended up in the middle of a virtual war zone. Steris, however, wasn’t in the servants’ compartment. Nor was she in the ... |
at the window and increased his weight. He hit the window shoulder-first, arms covering his face, and smashed through—then barely managed to catch the bottom window frame as he fell outside. Fingers dripping blood from the broken glass, he pulled himself up, stood on the windowsill, and scaled the outside of the train,... |
smiled and started walking forward. Each step closer let him Push harder. Wax gritted his teeth. The cuts on his fingers were superficial, though they stung like hell and the blood made his grip slippery. He struggled, trying to pull the vial toward his mouth, but failed. Ranette’s sphere devices. They hung from the gu... |
car.” “As a point of fact,” she said, “you did not. You told me to stay safe.” “So?” “So, it has been my experience that the safest place in a gunfight is near you, Lord Waxillium.” He grunted. “Hold your breath.” “What? Why should I—” She yelped as he Pushed on the steel bridge supports nearby, plunging them down into... |
the hillside, leveling out to approach the final bend before heading southward. Her eyes opened wider, then she grabbed him in a tight grip. “When we land,” he said, “keep your head down and find a place to hide.” “Got it.” He took a deep breath, then launched them high in a powerful arc through the night air. They sai... |
oddly, were at the front of this train. This car’s interior showed its share of bullet holes in the woodwork, suggesting Waxillium had been here. “Sir?” Marasi asked, hastening to the lone man. He was slender, and younger than she’d expected him to be from behind, considering how his posture slumped, and how he relied ... |
to him, yet he knew it—knew it by the lines pointing at its barrel, trigger, levers, the bullets inside. Five shots left. He could see them even with his eyes closed. Go. He opened his eyes and leaped out of the engine, Pushing himself forward in a rush. He passed over the coal tender, then burst into the first cargo c... |
grinned, then dropped down between the cars and pushed into the one the men were standing on. There he found Marasi standing atop a bunch of suitcases, her shoulders pressed against the train’s ceiling just below the men so she could engage a speed bubble and freeze them all in place. 9 Wax had never shot a doctor befo... |
through the train. He was the local captain, though from what Wax gathered, this town was small enough that his “big cases” usually were on the order of who had been stealing Mrs. Hutchen’s milk off her doorstep. He was glad to have found surgeons. Most of them probably worked half their time on cows, but it was better... |
count on your help, my lord? When we chase down Donny and his gang?” “I’ll … let you know.” Matieu saluted, which was completely inappropriate—Wax wasn’t part of this jurisdiction—and retreated. Wax continued searching, pulling open a luggage compartment beneath the first passenger car. The metal lines leading into it ... |
“Because we are us,” Marasi said, arms folded. “Because we’re on our way to a dangerous situation. I don’t know. You could at least have told us what you were doing.” She hesitated. “And by the way, what do you think you were doing?” Wayne bowed his head where he sat before her. MeLaan leaned against the wall near the ... |
All three of them looked at her, and she blushed in the harsh electric light. “What?” “You stalked away,” Wayne pointed, “indigenously.” “And now I’m stalking back in,” Marasi said, striding toward Wax and fishing in her pocket. “I can be indigen—indignant in here just as easily.” She pulled her hand out, holding a sma... |
just how alien, and just how old, MeLaan was. Then again, Wayne wasn’t known for his taste in women. Or, well, his taste at all, really. Wax glanced at Marasi, who had remained behind. She held up the little cube, turning it over in her fingers, inspecting the intricate carvings it bore on its various faces. “Can I get... |
Wax chuckled. “No. I don’t mind a book now and then, but Wayne is the real reader.” Steris raised her head, looking surprised. “I’m serious,” Wax said. “Granted, he likes ones with pictures now and then, but he does read. Often out loud. You should hear him do the voices to himself. Me … I’d just find a balcony that lo... |
The sound wasn’t an earthquake or explosion, but that of waterfalls. In places, the drop was just a little ripple—a fall of some five feet or so. But in others, majestic waterfalls plunged fifty feet or more before pounding onto the next stone platform. It looked like a man-made effect, for the various split streams an... |
please.” “Yes, my lord.” Wax slid open the side of the cab, took another drink of metal flakes—recovered from the stash in his luggage—then pulled Marasi tight, burned steel, and leaped. A flared Push sent them soaring away from the train, which was slowing as it approached the buildings clustered around the base of Ne... |
it interesting that the gondola system wasn’t only for getting between terraces; there were also lines crossing the sky above them carting people from one section of this terrace to another. “Like a shark among minnows,” Marasi mumbled. “What’s that?” Wax asked. “Look at how people swerve around you,” Marasi said. “Lor... |
symbol. “I recognize that,” Marasi said. “Why would I recognize that?” “You read the accounts of my time in the Roughs,” Wax said. “It’s in there—that’s the symbol of Ape Manton, one of my old nemeses.” “Ape Manton!” Marasi said. “Didn’t he—” “Yes,” Wax said, remembering the nights of torture. “He hunts Allomancers.” B... |
“I agree that we need to stay focused on getting back the spike.” “You’re here for the spike, Marasi,” Wax said. “I’m here to find Suit.” He nodded down the street, toward a discreet hotel sign, barely visible on the front of a building. “You go check us in. I’m going to fetch the others.” * * * “With this suite and th... |
final window. “What?” she demanded. “I will not have the staff unprepared. Their safety is our concern.” “Fire?” Aunt Gin asked, reading the list. “Shoot-outs. Robbery. Hostage situations. Explosions?” “That one is completely unfair,” Wax said. “You’ve been listening to Wayne.” “Things do explode around you, mate,” Way... |
skulls?” Aunt Gin said. The door slammed. “Aha!” Wax said, lowering his hand. “There it is.” Marasi approached and wrapped her arm around the elderly lady’s shoulders, leading her away. “Don’t worry. It won’t be nearly as bad as they make it seem. Likely nothing will happen to you or your hotel.” “Other than Wax rippin... |
worry about that,” she said, spinning around. “I will get in, and be ready to give you support. But this is your play, Ladrian, not mine. You’re the detective; I’m just around for the punchy-punchy, stabby-stabby.” She closed the door. Wayne shook his head. Now that, that’s a situation a man don’t rightly encounter all... |
said. ReLuur, in his ravings, had directed them toward this party of Kelesina Shores, who was a lady of some prestige in New Seran—and who he implied was connected to all this. She was their best lead, though ReLuur’s notebook had also listed five other families he thought were of interest. The problem was, none of tho... |
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