The Alloy of Law (Mistborn #4)(42)

“I had assumed those remaining might cut their losses and flee. Killing three-quarters of a group should be enough to disband them, one would think.”

“It would, in my experience.”

“But this is different,” she said. “The bandit boss has an outside backer offering wealth and weaponry.” She frowned. “The boss spoke of ‘payback,’ as I recall. Could he be both the boss and the backer?”

“Perhaps,” Waxillium said. “But I doubt it. Part of the point of all this would be to have someone else doing the dangerous work for you.”

“Agreed,” she said. “But the boss does seem to have his own ideology. Perhaps he was chosen because of it. Criminals often use basic rationalization skills to justify what they are doing, and a man who could capitalize on that—along with promising riches and lots of fun shooting things—would be ideal as a ‘middle manager,’ so to speak.”

Waxillium smiled broadly.

“What?” she asked.

“You realize I spent all night coming to those conclusions? You just reached them in all of … what? Ten minutes?”

She sniffed. “I had some modest help from you.”

“It might be said that I had modest help from myself, technically.”

“The voices whispering to you as a result of sleep deprivation do not count, my lord.”

His smile grew, and then he stood. “Come. Tell me what you make of this.”

Curious, she followed him to the front of the room, where she’d noticed the heap of paper. He pulled it straight, revealing a long—perhaps five-foot—piece of paper that was several feet wide. Waxillium knelt on the ground, but she had a harder time, being in skirts. So she just bent down, looking over his shoulder.

“Genealogies?” she asked, surprised. It appeared that he’d traced each of the kidnapped women back to the Origin, starting with their names at the left of the long sheet, then working backward. It didn’t list every relative, but it included the direct ancestors and a few notable names in each generation for each hostage.

“Well?” he asked.

“I’m beginning to suspect that you are an odd man, my lord,” she said. “You spent all night doing this?”

“It did take a great deal of my time, though Wayne’s paper gave me a good head start. Fortunately, my uncle’s library had extensive genealogical resources. It was a hobby of his. But what do you think?”

“That it is a good thing you’re soon to be engaged, for a good wife would have seen that you got your rest, rather than writing all night by candlelight. That’s bad for your eyes, you know.”

“We have electricity,” he said, waving upward. “Besides, I doubt Steris will care about my sleeping habits. It’s not in the contract, you see.” There was a touch of bitterness in his tone—faint, but recognizable.

She’d said most of that to stall him for a few moments so she could read more of the names. “Allomancers,” she said. “You analyzed the family lines for Allomantic powers in their heritage. They all converge on the Lord Mistborn. Didn’t Wayne speak of this?”

“Yes,” he said. “I believe that the one behind all this is looking for Allomancers. He’s building an army. He picks the people he does because he suspects that they’re secretly Allomancers. The fact that they aren’t open about it makes it harder to recognize what he’s doing.”

“But Steris isn’t an Allomancer. I promise it.”

“That worried me for a time,” he said. “But it’s not a large issue. See, he’s picking people he thinks are probably Allomancers, but he’s bound to get it wrong a few times.” Waxillium tapped the paper. “That does make me worry for her. Once the backer discovers that she’s not what he thought she was, she’ll be in greater danger.”

Hence why you stayed up all night, she realized. You think there isn’t time.

All of this, for a woman he obviously didn’t love. It was difficult not to be jealous.

What? she thought. You’d have had yourself be taken? Foolish girl.

She did note that her own name was one of those listed. “You have my genealogy?” she said, surprised.

“Had to send out for it,” he said. “Made some clerks quite angry in the middle of the night, I’m afraid. You’re very odd.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh. Um, I mean on the list. You see here? You’re second cousins with Steris.”

“And?”

“And, that means you’re … well, this is awkward to explain. You’re, essentially, a sixth cousin to the main bloodline here. All of the others, including Steris, were much better connected—you have bloodlines on your father’s side that dilute your connections. That makes you an odd target, compared to the others. I’m wondering if they picked you because they wanted to take someone random to break up their pattern and keep us guessing.”

“Possible,” she said carefully. “They didn’t know Steris had been sitting with us, after all.”

“Very true. But … here’s where it gets speculative. You see? I can come up with plenty of reasons why Steris was targeted. The history of Allomancers isn’t the only connection—because of the propinquity of high society, there are many other connections.