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Investiture on the desk nearby. He’d settled here, just within reach of it—but knew he’d be watched at first. He hoped his slumped posture, his tired features, his lack of vibrance would put them at ease. He couldn’t steal it yet. Not quite yet. “Report, sir,” a voice said halfway across the room. “That ship in orbit e... |
pavement to acknowledge? “I don’t know,” he said. Liar. “Not this time,” Nomad whispered. “I don’t know, Auxiliary. I just…did it. I can’t explain my mindset. I can’t justify it. I disavowed my oaths. It’s the choice I made. But I didn’t have a reason.” You have to. Everything has a reason. Here was why he’d never trie... |
every single one of them staring at the screen in silence. The postures of the Beaconites, falling to their knees in sorrow and terror. The abject abandonment of Union cruising away, leaving them behind, deaf to their pleas. The Cinder King certainly had learned his lessons in tyranny well. Granted, that wasn’t the sor... |
resisting—causing the Investiture there to flare. Like the light of a light bulb. That’s what captures all that power and leaves behind a sunheart.” The woman folded her arms on the table. “Yes,” she said. “Have you been intercepting our communications? Is that why you know this?” “How do you do it?” he asked, ignoring... |
Most people had never seen a Shardblade in person, but they’d heard the stories. Even a group like this—who could have overwhelmed him with their technology—froze at the sight of it. “I’m leaving,” he told them, voice harsh. “You get to choose. You can stand in my way. Or you can continue to breathe.” “Leaving?” one of... |
will make you what you were. For a short time. I am the leftover strength of oaths sworn. I am the truth you once knew. Take it again, for the briefest time, and soar. He felt warmth begin to spread through him. It was a different kind of Investiture…drawn from the remnant of Auxiliary’s soul. I will burn away only mys... |
searched her. Why would they? So they didn’t know about the sliver of a sunheart that Zellion had given her. She wouldn’t, it turned out, need it for herself. Rebeke knelt at the edge of the city, shaking. Elegy continued to find her weakness curious. Before being taken as a Charred, had Elegy been similarly fragile? T... |
could feel it. And…and Elegy found that she believed them a little herself. “No,” the Cinder King said. “Then kill me!” Rebeke said, stepping forward. “Bring the others here and make them watch me die! Think of the power you’ll feel, holding my throat in your hands, crushing the life from me as my people watch. Is that... |
In that moment, Elegy could see the strength in that too. Together, they watched the advancing flames. A sky of red and orange, a brilliant death. The fire undulated. The sheet of light rippled and changed. Then a figure, high in the sky, exploded from the light, trailing fragments of fire and smoke, glowing like metal... |
you do, then what? The Cinder King will just stop them again. You’re far too vulnerable.” “Then what?” she demanded. “If it pleases you, tell us your plan!” Solemnity Divine tossed back the rest of the sunheart, then went running to install the sliver as asked. Zellion slotted the sunheart into a place he’d made on the... |
he said. “I don’t mean to be contrary, but Adonalsium? He—” “He’s dead?” she asked. “Yes, we know. Did you think we had no idea of the story? The Shattering? The Shards?” “I…yes. So I assumed. Since you still talk about him and…well, you know, pray.” “Our faith,” she said, “is that this is all part of some plan. It’s n... |
it, which would be amusing. Sadly the gun fired without difficulty—delivering a ball of glowing energy into the distant dome. It bounced off, but it proved that the system worked. He had them move it to point at Zellion’s approaching ship. Elegy felt a surge of excitement. She’d hoped for something like this. She shot ... |
was tackled from behind by one of the other Charred, her sunheart fragment slipping from her fingers and bouncing away. “Yes, it does hurt you, doesn’t it?” the Cinder King said. “Curious. Well, perhaps it will hurt even more for you to know what I’m going to do to her. I’ll make her into one of you, take away her mind... |
down. Then she felt the city shake as something impacted it from below. A moment later, a figure sprang over the side—a figure in smoldering armor, trailing smoke. He landed in front of her, metal feet sparking on the metal street. Then he stood up tall, even more intimidating in the armor than he’d been without it. “Y... |
out of energy. Zellion slumped forward, and she could hear him breathing deeply from within his helmet. Then his armor began to disintegrate, vaporizing to smoke, leaving him—in seconds—exposed. He struggled to his feet and picked up a fallen machete. “Can you bring it back?” Elegy asked, approaching him on a deck slic... |
King. “Do you spot snipers?” No response. Damnation. It hurt anew when he remembered. He stopped within shouting distance of the Cinder King, feeling strangely exposed without his armor. A short time back in it, and already he felt reliant? “I’m here to give you that fight you offered!” Zellion called to the man. “Do y... |
of those Scadrian weight devices, isn’t it? That’s what you locked onto my ankle?” He’d seen people wear them on low-gravity planets to move more naturally. Here, though, it had been turned up an extreme amount—making his entire body think it was working under three or four times the standard gravity. The Cinder King s... |
Knowing some offworlder monster in a suit of strange armor was assaulting their city—and Charred were going wild—yet being ordered to go execute a captive? Elegy pushed the door open the rest of the way, and the light was as she remembered it. Hundreds of sunhearts set into slots on the walls. The city’s reserve. A mau... |
something raw—a word unformed—Elegy pulled her sister close and felt Rebeke’s warmth against her hollow of a chest. Where her self had been destroyed. She clung to Rebeke and whispered the words. “Bold one on the threshold of death, give my cinderheart your heat, that you may remember and bless those who still live.” T... |
nodded. “He’s stronger than I am, Elegy. But I think…I think the other Charred will ignore me—or at least not attack me. What should we do?” “All I know is how to break things,” Elegy said. “You’ll have to make the difficult decisions.” Rebeke grimaced at that, looking overwhelmed. “Rebeke,” Elegy said. “Zellion is fig... |
him and let his weight topple them both backward. He wasn’t in control. He just fell, using essentially the same maneuver he’d pulled on Elegy in the arena during their initial clash. It worked just as well now as it had then. The Cinder King could struggle all he wanted, but he had made Zellion into a deadweight, four... |
with guns still raised at the ready. “We’re not going to hurt you,” Rebeke said. “We’re not going to attack you. I just want you to listen.” She nodded toward the monitor they’d been watching. “Did the offworlder knock them down, off the city?” The room was silent for a moment, then one woman—sitting at a control stati... |
because the world is changing. Today we make choices. Please.” Weapons lowered. People exchanged looks. Then finally the woman who had spoken first stood up. “Shades, I’ll do it.” She took the controls at the front of the room, and nobody stopped her. With that, Union abandoned its king. Leaving him in the mud. And it ... |
flay those who betrayed me,” the Cinder King whispered. “None will ever stand against me again. Not while I wield the beautiful sword of the offworlder. I will unify everyone. A single, glorious city, ruled by one man.” Zellion felt that chill growing, and everything becoming as frost. And yet… He hadn’t made an oath t... |
been placed on top of the powerless ships. They’d survived. An entire half rotation in the sun, and they’d survived. Elegy stood there, grinning, practicing her normal emotions—then leaped to Rebeke’s platform as it descended. She got her sister muddy, but who cared? Mud happened all the time. The Beaconites got out of... |
discipline. He didn’t want them to remember him. He was on tenuous enough ground, pretending to be from a town in another “corridor” come for explanations. He slipped into the ship he’d stolen from the first town they’d visited. Inside, other members of the Night Brigade watched the door with hands on weapons. They sto... |
out of the sunlight and into the darkness. If he waited too long, they’d suffocate. So he had to use his best guess and summon the weapon back when he thought it was safe. It appeared in his hand as a sword, and he used it to—at long last—cut that stupid weight-increasing band off his leg. He stretched, feeling freed f... |
of Sanderson” idea started to bud in my mind. I thought that four books, one per quarter, would be the best way to go about that. It felt right. I wanted another book. And I wanted to write a book for you. The other secret projects were experimental uses of voice. They either weren’t Cosmere or had only tangential conn... |
without the Dawnshard connection that I’d flagged for Sigzil.) Regardless, that’s probably more information than you needed! The relevant point is that in late 2021 I realized that I finally had the chance to write Zellion’s story. I chose it as the last secret project, as a thank-you to all of you, but also a way to e... |
works. He admires artists like Norman Rockwell and Gil Elvgren. He works as a freelance illustrator, doing comics and illustrations for books, board games, and video games. See more of his work at nabetsezitro.com. KUDRIAKEN is an illustrator who focuses on drawing fantasy. Since her early childhood, she’s been fascina... |
and technology would never change. The plan then was for a second epic trilogy set in an urban era, and a third trilogy set in a futuristic era—with Allomancy, Feruchemy, and Hemalurgy being the common threads that tied them together. This book isn’t part of that second trilogy. It’s a side deviation, something excitin... |
look at, though the six-shot cylinder was machined with such care in the steel-alloy frame that there was no play in its movement. There was no gleam to the metal or exotic material on the grip. But it fit his hand like it was meant to be there. The waist-high fence was flimsy, the wood grayed with time, held together ... |
Roughs hunting a murderer. Completing the ensemble, he wore a bowler hat on his head to keep off the sun. A sound; someone stepped on a board across the street, making it creak. It was so faint, he almost missed it. Wax reacted immediately, flaring the steel that burned inside his stomach. He Pushed on a group of nails... |
wore a white duster, reddened at the bottom. She kept her dark hair pulled back in a tail, and wore trousers and a wide belt, with thick boots on her feet. She had a squarish face. A strong face, with lips that often rose slightly at the right side in a half smile. Wax heaved a sigh of relief and lowered his gun. “Less... |
could they?” “You did shoot his son, Lessie.” “And you shot his brother.” “Mine was self-defense.” “Mine was too,” she said. “That kid was annoying. Besides, he survived.” “Missing a toe.” “You don’t need ten,” she said. “I have a cousin with four. She does just fine.” She raised her revolver, scanning the empty town. ... |
ladder here once, but it had rotted away—the remnants were visible below in a pile of old splinters. The air smelled musty and wet … with a hint of smoke. Someone had been burning a torch down there. Wax dropped a bullet into the hole, then leaped in, gun out. As he fell, he filled his iron metalmind, decreasing his we... |
was his uniform, at least, and it seemed like his hair. He’d been one of Tan’s first victims, the disappearance that sent Wax hunting. That had only been two months back. He’s been mummified, Wax thought. Prepared and dried like leather. He felt revolted—he’d gone drinking with Geormin on occasion, and though the man c... |
are the puppets.” “Tan,” Wax said. “Come out.” “I have seen God, lawkeeper,” Tan whispered. Where was he? “I have seen Death himself, with the nails in his eyes. I have seen the Survivor, who is life.” Wax scanned the small chapel. It was cluttered with broken benches and fallen statues. He rounded the side of the alta... |
as Wax’s bullet took her just above the right eye. Blood sprayed against the clay wall beside her. She crumpled. Wax stood, frozen, horrified. No … that isn’t the way … it can’t … “The best performances,” Tan said, smiling and looking down at Lessie’s figure, “are those that can only be performed once.” Wax shot him in... |
high they intended to go, each one trying to outdo the other. Rumors he’d heard at this very party, credible ones, claimed that both would eventually top out at over fifty stories. Nobody knew which would end up proving the taller, though friendly wagers were common. Wax breathed in the mists. Out in the Roughs, Cett M... |
he thought, crouching down and peering through the mists. The coachmen’s yard. The vehicles everyone had used to get there were arranged here in neat rows, the coachmen themselves chatting in a few cozy rooms that spilled orange light into the mists. No electric lights here; just good, warmth-giving hearths. He walked ... |
face. It was thrilling. A man never truly felt free until he’d thrown off gravity’s chains and sought the sky. As he crested his arc, he Pushed against another streetlight, throwing himself farther forward. The long row of metal poles was like his own personal railway line. He bounded onward, his antics drawing attenti... |
the wind could push him away—not with his metalminds on his forearms and the weapons he wore. His lighter body did make it easier to hold himself in place. Mist swirled beneath him. It seemed almost playful. He looked upward, deciding his next step. His steel revealed lines of blue to nearby sources of metal, many of w... |
Once, this city had felt like home. That was before he’d spent twenty years living out in the dust, where the law was sometimes a distant memory and people considered carriages a frivolity. What would Lessie have thought of one of these horseless contraptions, with the thin wheels meant for driving on a city’s fine pav... |
for trouble. He fingered his Sterrion as another shot was fired, closer this time. He judged his distance, then dropped a bullet casing and Pushed himself into the air. He’d restored his weight to three-quarters and left it there. You needed some weight on you to fight effectively. The mists swirled and spun, teasing h... |
threw himself backward, up out of the alleyway. Bullets pierced the mists all around him. Steel bubble or not, he should have fallen to one of them. It was pure luck that saved his life as he landed on another roof and rolled to a stop, prone, protected from the gunfire by a parapet wall. Wax gasped for breath, hand on... |
of a rug or bump into a pedestal. His rooms were at the end of the hallway. He reached for the brass knob with gloved fingers. Excellent. He carefully pushed the door open, stepping into his bedroom. Now he just had to— A door opened on the other side of his room, letting in bright yellow light. Wax froze in place, tho... |
If Wax didn’t do something to change that, it could mean jobs lost, poverty, and collapse as other houses pounced on his holdings and seized them for debts not paid. Wax ran his thumbs along his Sterrions. The constables handled those street toughs just fine, he admitted to himself. They didn’t need me. This city doesn... |
wouldn’t have thought that one would need to learn that skill in the Roughs. I wasn’t aware that the denizens of those lands had the slightest concern for matters of fashion and decorum.” “They don’t,” Waxillium said with a smile, giving one final adjustment to the cravat. “That’s part of why I always did. Dressing lik... |
just after the railway reached Weathering. Well, he was making go1od on his obligations now. Six months of work, and he was finally getting his feet under him and pulling House Ladrian—along with its many forgeworkers and seamstresses—from the brink of financial collapse. The last step came today. Waxillium reached the... |
the Yomen-Ostlin wedding di1nner,” Miss Grimes guessed. “Might be a good place to have your first public appearance with Miss Harms.” “The details haven’t been decided!” Waxillium protested as they stopped at the bottom of the staircase. “I’ve barely broached the topic with Lord Harms, yet you practically have us marri... |
no longer. And me, I’ve got important stuff to be about.” He looked at the clock, then pocketed it and set a small bottle of whiskey on the mantel in its place. “Now, sir, I’ll need to be asking you a few questions.” He pulled a small notepad and pencil from inside his duster. “Where were you last night at around midni... |
He was scrunching his face up just slightly to produce a fe1w extra wrinkles at the eyes. It was a good disguise, making him look like he might be a few years older than Waxillium, rather than ten years younger. Waxillium glanced over his shoulder. The duster sat folded on the floor beside one of the couches, hat atop ... |
I should begin by asking after your health.” “Perhaps you should,” Steris replied. “Er. Yes. How’s your health?” “Suitable.” “So is Waxillium,” Wayne added. They all turned to him. “You know,” he said. “He’s wearing a suit, and all. Suitable. Ahem. Is that mahogany?” “This?” Lord Harms said, holding up his cane. “Indee... |
through the pages. Tillaume entered, bringing a tray of tea and cakes, and deposited it on a serving table beside Wayne. Waxillium shook his head, closing the contract. “Doesn’t this seem a little … stiff to you?” “Stiff?” “I mean, shouldn’t there be room for romance?” “There is,” Steris said. “Page thirteen. Upon marr... |
bubble. The bubble was about five feet across, including only Wayne and Waxillium, and once Wayne had it up he couldn’t move it. Years of familiarity let Waxillium discern the boundary of the bubble, which was marked by a faint wavering of the air. For those inside the bubble, time would flow much more quickly than for... |
restoring normal time. To the three visitors, only seconds had passed, and to their ears Waxillium and Wayne’s conversation would be sped up to the point that most of it would be inaudible. The coughing would cover anything else. None of the three visitors seemed to have noticed anything unusual. Waxillium poured the t... |
of the line, one of their train’s cars is empty. Still locked, no signs of forced entry. But the goods are all gone.” “So nobody sees the culprits,” Waxillium said. “The recent ones have been different,” Marasi said, growing animated. “They’ve started robbing passenger cars as well. When the train stops because of the ... |
asked. “I know a good zinc counselor if you have need of some emotional aid.” “Er … no. Thank you. I am quite all right, and I think this has been a very productive meeting. Wouldn’t you agree?” “That depends,” she said, rising, apparently taking that as an invitation to end the conversation. “The wedding party is on t... |
Stealing jewelry is one thing. Taking food from Roughs towns is another. Kidnapping peopleÂâ¦well, thereâ™ something goinâ™on here. Iâ™ gonna find out what it is. With or without you.â/p> âœithout me.â/p> âœine.âHe hesitated. âœut I need something, Wax. A place to look. You always did the thinking.â/p> âœes, having... |
Waxillium on the chest. âœut you know what I think? I think youâ™e looking for excuses to not let go. This thing, itâ™ who you are. And no mansion, no marriage, and no mere title is going to change that.âWayne tipped his hat. âœouâ™e meant to be helping people, mate. Itâ™ what you do.â/p> With that, Wayne left, his d... |
between the first railway cargo disappearance and the second. The name “Vanishers” hadn’t started being used until this second attack. The robberies were all similar, save for the one at the playhouse. A train was stopped because of a distraction on the tracks—early on, a fallen tree. Later, a ghostly phantom railcar t... |
least. Waxillium continued reading. There were a great many articles with theories, quotes, and eyewitness reports. Many suggested a speed bubble, but editorials cut those to shreds. Too much manpower would be needed, more than could fit in a speed bubble. They thought it more likely that a Feruchemist who could increa... |
my lord,” Tillaume said. Waxillium caught a faint sigh of exasperation from the man, though he left the room to do as asked. How long had it been since Waxillium had started his research? He glanced at the clock, and was surprised at the time. Well into the night already. Well, he was into it now. He’d never sleep unti... |
the rates were unusually high in Vinuarch because the eighteenth railway line was out of service. It would take a man with breadcrumbs for brains to pay a premium to ship out-of-season wares to people who didn’t want them.” “So…” Tillaume said. “Just a moment,” Waxillium said. He walked over and pulled a few ledgers of... |
Thugs. And if we were able to catch any of the thieves, I’ll bet good money that we’d find them wearing aluminum linings in their hats to shield their emotions from being Pushed or Pulled on.” That wasn’t uncommon among the city’s elite as well, though the common men couldn’t afford such luxury. The robberies weren’t a... |
out his earring. It was a simple thing, stamped on the head with the ten interlocking rings of the Path. He slipped it into his ear, which was pierced for the purpose, and leaned against the window to stare out at the darkened city. There was no specific prescribed posture for praying as a Pathian. Just fifteen minutes... |
the Path soon after leaving Elendel. He was still convinced that the woman he’d met on that train ride must have been one of the Faceless Immortals, the hands of Harmony. She’d given him his ear1ring; every Pathian wore one while praying. The problem was, it was hard for Waxillium to feel like he was doing anything use... |
was filled. Rows and rows of tables lined the hardwood floor of the cavernous chamber; there had to be over a hundred of them. Ladies, lords, elected officials, and the wealthy elite moved and chatted in a low hum, all dressed in their finest. Sparkling jewels. Crisp black suits with colorful cravats. Women with dresse... |
bore when not drunk and a complete buffoon when he is drunkâ”hich is most of the time, I might add. He is probably the least likable person in all of upper society. Most people here would rather spend an hour amputating one of their own toes than spend a few moments chatting with him.â/p> âœo why is he here?â/p> âœor... |
Soon, the first tables were served their meals. Silverware began to clatter. Steris sent for a servant to prepare their table; Waxillium passed the time by inspecting the room. There were two balconies, one at each shorter end of the rectangular ballroom. There appeared to be space for dining up there, though no tables... |
gunfight came down to who could field the most men with weapons. But once you could hide, skill and experience started to compensate. Maybe this room wouldn’t be too bad a place to fight after all. He— He hesitated. What was he doing? He’d made his decision. Did he have to keep remaking it every few days? “Marasi,” he ... |
if you were skilled or well armed, you could take whatever you want. I was both, and yet instead of taking, I stopped them. They found it baffling.” “It was very brave of you,” Marasi said. He shrugged. “It wasn’t bravery, honestly. I just kind of fell into things.” “Even stopping the Surefires?” “They were a special c... |
draws that type. But I think it’s a matter of perception. As you said, out of the city, people expect to get away with their crimes. “Here, they are more circumspect—and many of the crimes are smaller in scope. Instead of the bank getting robbed, you get a dozen people being robbed on their way home at night. The natur... |
off a dog by mistake,” Waxillium said idly. “It’s kind of a funny story.” “Shooting dogs is hardly appropriate dinner conversation,” Steris said. “I know. Particularly since I was aiming for its balls.” Marasi just about spat her soup across the table. “Lord Ladrian!” Steris exclaimed, though her father seemed amused. ... |
a house requires certain sacrifices. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I see Lord Alernath over at the bar and I think I’ll grab a nip of something harder with him before the main course. If I don’t go before Steris gets back, she’ll bully me into staying. I shouldn’t be long.” He nodded to the two of them, then waddled toward... |
as dangerous. It was the Roughs, wild and untamed, that needed rescuing. The City was the land of plenty that Harmony had created to shelter mankind. Here, trees grew fruit in abundance and cultivated lands had water without need for irrigation. The ground was always fertile, and somehow never got farmed out. This land... |
and thick Roughs trousers underneath. He spun his hat on his finger. The earrings were gone. Marasi jumped. “Speed bubble,” she whispered, sounding awed. “I thought I’d be able to see something from outside!” “You could, if you were watching closely,” Waxillium said. “A blur. If you look at the next table over, the sle... |
that … well, I’m sitting with you two … and … well, you know … you’re two of the most famous lawkeepers in the world, and all…” “Trust me,” Waxillium said. “We don’t know as much as you might think.” “Now, if you were studying buffoonery and idiotic behavior,” Wayne added, “that is something we’re experts on.” “That’s ... |
up the paper and handed it back. “Why would you care?” “Because,” Wayne said, snatching the paper from his hand and leaning in. “Don’t you see? The thieves are looking for places they can rob where the wealthy upper class of Elendel can be found—because among those wealthy upper-class types, they find their targets. Pe... |
through the room, her eyes wide and her rose lips parted. “Oh my.” She spun around, digging out her pocketbook with trembling fingers. She whipped out a small notepad and a pencil. “What are you doing?” Waxillium asked. “Writing down descriptions,” she said, her hand shaking. “Did you know that, statistically, only one... |
be the cause of these people dying, Wayne,” Waxillium snapped, voice much louder than he’d intended. Blood on the bricks. A body in a leather coat, slumping to the ground. A grinning face, dying with a bullet in the forehead. Winning, even as he died. Not again. Never again. Waxillium squeezed his eyes closed. Never ag... |
walked toward their table. It was the gray-skinned one with the thick neck. “Wayne,” Waxillium said, “bat on the wall.” Wayne nodded curtly, sliding over his dueling canes. Waxillium drank his wine, and pressed the spiral-bound notebook and the dueling canes against his side of their square table. He slipped a small me... |
distractedly, watching the masked leader. He was consulting something in his hand. Looked like a couple of crinkled-up sheets of paper. “That’ll allow the constables to track where they get spent, if they do get spent.” “Marked!” Marasi said. “So you did know we’d be robbed!” “What? Of course I didn’t.” “But—” “Wax alw... |
hostages loose once we’re sure we aren’t being followed.” Lies, Waxillium thought. What do you want with them? Why are you— The koloss-blooded man who had stolen Wayne’s hat stepped up to Wax’s table and grabbed Marasi by the shoulder. “You’ll do,” he said. “You’re coming for a ride with us, pretty.” She jumped as he t... |
masked bandit leader suddenly spun, hand snapping out, a gunshot cracking the air, echoing across the large ballroom. It was over in a heartbeat. The aged Peterus collapsed in a heap. Smoke curled in the air over the bandit boss’s pistol. “Oh…” Wayne said softly. “You just made a bad mistake, mate. A very bad mistake.”... |
came to find you?” “Why?” “I thought of you happy in a comfy bed, resting and relaxing, spending the rest of your life sipping tea and reading papers while people bring you food and maids rub your toes and stuff.” “And?” “And I just couldn’t leave y1ou to a fate like that.” Wayne shivered. “I’m too good a friend to let... |
himself in a ring. He started carefully, gradually increasing its strength. When you Pushed, it was your weight against that of the object—in this case, the metal screws and bolts in the tables and chairs. They were swept away from him. He became the epicenter of an expanding ring of force. Tables toppled, chairs scrap... |
the curses of the bandit leaders that the men were supposed to have aluminum bullets loaded already, at least in some of the chambers. Shooting aluminum was like shooting gold, however, and many of the bandits appeared to have kept the aluminum in their pockets rather than wanting to have it in the guns, where they mig... |
his own troubles. With those aluminum bullets, his own protective bubble was useless. He let it drop. More bullets pelted his table and the floor around him, the pops of gunfire echoing in the grand hall. Fortunately, he could still see blue lines pointing to the ordinary steel of the bandits’ guns, including those of ... |
then did Waxillium realize there was no blue line pointing to the man’s gun. Tarson grinned, his ashy face topped by Wayne’s hat. Then he whipped around, placing himself behind Marasi, whom he gripped by the neck with one hand, holding the gun steady against her head with the other. No blue lines. Rust and Ruin … an en... |
precisely. They rolled in a bundle of red and white fabric. When they came to a rest, Marasi clung to him, shaking and gasping for breath. He sat up, and held her for a moment. âœhank you,âshe whispered. âœhank you.â/p> âœonâ™ mention it,âhe said. âœhat was very brave, stopping the bandit as you did.â/p> âœeven out... |
resistance mattered. However, weight did matter a great deal when Pushingâ”hich Waxillium did, throwing everything he had against the chandeliers. They ripped apart in a line, the metal inside them twisting upon itself, crystal exploding outward in a shower. That gave him plenty of room along the upper portion of the r... |
nearby tables. Vanisher bodies lay strewn about, bones broken by Wayne’s dueling canes. Waxillium spotted a few living ones hiding behind tables for cover, as if they hadn’t realized yet that Wayne didn’t carry guns. “Five left?” Waxillium asked. “Six,” Wayne said, picking up and spinning his dueling canes. “There’s an... |
table, bleeding, a gun dropping from his fingers. What by the Survivor’s scars…? He looked up. Marasi knelt on the balcony where he’d left her. She’d fetched the rifle from the bandit he’d crushed, and she obviously knew how to use it. Even as he watched, she fired again, dropping the bandit in the shadows Wayne had me... |
day from powers above him who were not pleased. “I’m sorry, constable,” Waxillium said calmly. “Old habits make for strong steel. I should have restrained myself, but would you have done any different? Would you have watched women being kidnapped and done nothing?” “I have a legal right and responsibility you do not.” ... |
out of the kitchen. Waxillium sighed, standing up and taking his bowler off the counter where he’d left it. Harmony protect us from small-minded men with too much power. He donned the hat and walked out into the ballroom. The room had been mostly cleared of guests, the wedding party itself taken in Lord Yomen’s carriag... |
request for help. “I’ll find her,” Waxillium said. “I promise it, Lord Harms.” Harms nodded. Then, he slowly pushed himself to his feet. “Let me help you to the carriage, my lord,” Marasi said. “No,” Harms said, waving her down. “No. Just let me … just let me go and sit by myself. I won’t leave without you, but please ... |
The constables didn’t stop them, though some did shoot Waxillium hostile looks. Others seemed disbelieving. A few looked awed. This night, like the four previous, lacked any mists. Waxillium and Wayne walked Marasi to her uncle’s carriage. Lord Harms sat inside, staring straight ahead. As they arrived, Marasi took Waxi... |
building didn’t seem to deserve such scrutiny; the venerable structure was built of stately, vine-bedecked stone, with large windows and an old iron gate. Three mature apple trees spread limbs over the front garden, and a member of the grounds staff was lazily sawing off a few dead branches. City law established by the... |
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