The Alloy of Law (Mistborn #4)(46)

“Um … yes.”

“Good,” Wayne said. “As I said, Clamps sent me, and I’m here to get you out. Seems the boss worries you fellows will talk.”

“I won’t!” the youth said, voice nearly a squeak as he obviously worked hard to keep himself from moving.

“I’m sure you won’t,” Wayne said, moving his accent subtly to match the area this youth was from, Inner Seventh. He tossed in a sprinkle of millworker, which he caught in this lad’s dialect. Probably from his father. “If you did, Tarson would have to break some of your bones. You know how he likes that, eh?”



The boy started to nod, but caught himself. “I know.”

“But we’ll get you out,” Wayne said. “Don’t worry. I don’t recognize you. You new?”

“Yes.”

“Clamps recruited you?”

“Just two weeks back.”

“Which base were you working out of?”

“Which one?” the lad said, frowning.

“We have several stations of operation,” Wayne said. “But of course you don’t know that, do you? The boss only shows one to new kids, in case they get caught. Wouldn’t want you to accidentally lead people to us, eh?”

“That would be awful,” Sindren agreed. He eyed the door, but kept himself still. “He put me in the old foundry over in Longard. I thought we were the only ones!”

“That’s the idea,” Wayne said. “We can’t let a simple mistake stop us from getting payback.”

“Er, yes.”

“You don’t believe in all that, do you?” Wayne said. “It’s okay. I think the boss gets a little crazy with that stuff too.”

“Yeah,” the youth said. “I mean, most of us just want the money, you know? Payback’s nice. But…”

“… money’s better.”

“Yeah. Boss is always talking about how things will be better when he’s in charge, and how the city betrayed him, and stuff. But the city betrays everyone. That’s how life is.” The youth glanced again at the constables outside the door.

“Don’t worry,” Wayne said. “They think I’m one of them.”

“How’d you do it?” the boy asked softly.

“Just gotta talk their language, son. Surprising how many people never figure that out. You’re sure they never told you about any of the other bases? I need to know which ones are in danger.”

“No,” the youth said. “I only ever went to the foundry. Stayed there pretty much all the time, except when we went out on runs.”

“Can I give you some advice, son?” Wayne asked.

“Please.”

“Get out of this business of robbing folks. You aren’t meant for it. If you ever do get free, go back to the mills.”

The boy frowned.

“Takes a special type to be a proper criminal,” Wayne explained. “You ain’t that type. You see, in this conversation, I tricked you into confirming the name of the guy who recruited you and giving the location of your base.”

The youth grew pale. “But…”

“Don’t worry,” Wayne said. “I’m on your side, remember? You’re just lucky that I am.”

“Yeah.”

“All right,” Wayne said, lowering his voice, remaining still. “I don’t know if I can get you out by force. Face it, kid, you’re not worth it. But I can help you. I want you to talk to the constables.”

“What?”

“Give me until evening,” Wayne said. “I’ll go back to the base and clear the place out. Once that’s done, you can sing to the conners, tell them everything you know. Don’t worry, you weren’t told enough to get us into real trouble. Our contingency plans will protect us. I’ll tell the boss I told you to do it, and so you’ll be all right.

“But don’t talk to them until they promise to let you go free in return. Get a solicitor into the room; ask for one by the name of Arintol. He’s supposed to be honest.” At least, that was what people on the streets had told Wayne. “Get the conners to promise you freedom with Arintol in the room. Then, tell them everything you know.

“Once you’re out, get away from the City. Some of the gang may not believe that I told you to talk, so it could be dangerous for you. Go to the Roughs and become a millworker. Nobody will care, there. Either way, kid, stay out of crime. You’ll just end up getting someone killed. Maybe you.”

“I…” The youth looked relieved. “Thank you.”

Wayne winked. “Now, resist everything I ask you from here out.” He started coughing and dropped the speed bubble.

“—that I can’t hear,” Brettin said, “I’m stopping this right here.”

“Fine!” Wayne yelled. “Boy, tell me who you work for.”

“I ain’t giving you anything, conner!”

“You’ll talk, or I’ll have your toes!” Wayne yelled back.

The kid got into it, and Wayne gave the constables a good five minutes of arguing before throwing up his hands and storming out.

“I told you,” Brettin said.