The Alloy of Law (Mistborn #4)(84)
Marasi gaped. The car was lifted only a few feet, but that was enough. The machine was a crane.
The Vanishers who had unhooked the couplers helped push the train car over across the narrow strip of land toward the canal. The black mass had to be a barge. Marasi ran some quick numbers in her head. In order to lift the train car like that, the barge must be very heavy and have considerable ballast on the other side.
She lifted her spyglass and was pleased to be able to pick out another crane arm extending in the other direction, holding some kind of heavy weight. The barge sank somewhat into the waters as the vault car was lifted, but not as far as Marasi would have assumed. It probably was designed with some means of bottoming out in the canal, perhaps an extendable section underneath the barge. That, plus the stabilizing arm, might be enough.
“My, my, my…” Wayne whispered. “Ain’t that somethin’.”
The machine dropped the entire vault car onto its barge, and then lifted something else off. Something large and rectangular. She had already guessed what to expect. A replica.
Marasi watched as the duplicate railcar was lowered onto the tracks. The couplings made it very tricky. This could ruin their entire plan; lower the car in the wrong way, ruin a coupler, and when the train pulled away it would leave its back half on the tracks. That would make it more obvious what had happened. The Vanishers on the ground guided the process.
Several of the other Vanishers were firing shots through the windows of a passenger car a few places ahead, probably to keep anyone from peeking out. However, the way the tracks bent around a tree-topped hill here, it would be very difficult for anyone inside to get a good view of what was happening. The phantom railcar’s light had vanished a few moments ago, and she knew it would be speeding backward along the tracks. Where did they keep it hidden? Perhaps it was loaded onto another barge after getting far enough ahead to be out of sight?
The Vanishers who had been working with the barge were running over to climb back onto their vehicle, which was slipping out into the center of the wide canal, where it was practically invisible in the misty night. It moved as a shadow.
“Wayne!” she said, scrambling up. “We’ve got to go.”
He sighed, standing. “Sure, sure.”
“Waxillium is in that train car!”
“Yeah. You ever notice how often he gets to be the one who rides in comfort, while I have to do things like gallop or walk all the time? Not very fair.”
She slung the rifle on her shoulder, hurrying down the hill. “You know, when I was reading the reports, I never imagined that you’d complain this much.”
“Now, that’s not fair. I’ll have you know that I pride myself on my cheery, optimistic attitude.”
She stopped, looking back at him, raising an eyebrow. “You pride yourself on it?”
He raised a hand to his chest, adopting a tone that sounded almost priestly. “Yes, but pride is bad, you know. I’ve been trying to be more humble lately. Hurry up, hurry up. We’re gonna lose them. You want Wax to be cornered and alone? Gosh, woman.”
She shook her head, turning and continuing down the hillside to where their horses were tied.
* * *
Miles stood with hands clasped behind his back, riding on the front of the Machine as it slid quietly down the canal. The part crane, part barge wasn’t exactly what he’d envisioned when he’d explained his plot to Mister Suit, but it was close.
He was proud of what he’d done: not just become a thief, but become one that captured people’s imaginations. Suit could say what he wanted about the theatrics, but they worked. The constables had no idea how he was performing the thefts.
“They checked on all six of the Tekiel guards, boss,” Tarson said, stepping up to him. His arm was out of its sling. Pewter savants could heal quickly. Not as quickly as someone like Miles, but it was still remarkable. Of course, pewter savants were also likely to run themselves to death, never noticing that their body was exhausted. It was a dangerous art that burned men up as quickly as Allomancers burned metal.
“Engineers too,” Tarson continued. “They caught a few more guards in the last passenger car, trying to sneak out to see how we were getting the cargo. We shot them. I think that means we’re clean.”
“Not yet,” Miles said softly, staring forward into the darkness as they sailed through the mists, moving by way of a pair of slow-turning propellers underneath the barge. “Waxillium knows how we’re doing this.”
Tarson hesitated. “Uh … you sure?”
“Yes,” Miles said absently. “He’s inside the train car.”
“What!” Tarson spun, looking at the large car riding in the middle of the barge. Miles could hear members of his team covering it with a tarp, to obscure it as they approached the City. They’d look like an ordinary barge, the arms and ballast hidden under other tarps and the whole thing disguised to look like a shipment of stone from one of the outer quarries. Miles even had a shipping manifest and docking authorization, along with a few tarps that actually hid piles of neatly cut stone.
“I don’t know the method he used,” Miles said. “But he’ll be in there. Wax thinks like a lawkeeper. This is the best way to find our hideout—stay with the cargo you know will be stolen, even if you’re not sure precisely how.” He paused. “No. He’ll have guessed how we’re doing it. That’s the risk of being as good as he is. As good as I was. You start to think like a criminal.”