Shadows of Self (Mistborn #5)(39)

Wax’s stomach plummeted. Wayne slowly turned the paper around. It was a sheet ripped from a ledger, filled with numbers and sums. Scrawled across it in a different hand was a single sentence—a familiar sentence. The very words Bloody Tan had said before jerking Lessie right into the path of Wax’s bullet, making him kill the woman he loved.

Someone else moves us, lawman.





7



“Look, Wax,” Wayne said as the two of them entered Ladrian Mansion, “I saw Tan’s body. You shot him square in the head. That bloke was deader than a stuffed lion in a hunting lodge. It ain’t him.”

“What if he was secretly Metalborn?” Wax asked. “Miles could have survived a shot to the head.”

“Doesn’t work that way, mate,” Wayne said, shutting the door and tossing his coat at Darriance. It hit the butler in the face. “If you’re a Bloodmaker, you’ve got to heal a head wound right as it’s happening. Once a bloke is actually dead, no power—Allomantic or Feruchemical—is bringin’ ’im back.”

“I saw him, Wayne. Twice.” Once while chasing the Marksman, and then just earlier today.

“Master,” Darriance said, folding Wayne’s coat. “New equipment has arrived for you from Miss Ranette. She asked if you’d be willing to test it.”

“Aw, Ruin!” Wayne said. “I missed her? What did she leave for me?”

“She … said I was to slap you,” Darriance admitted.

“Aw. She does care. See that, Wax, she cares!”

Wax nodded absently as Wayne tried to force Darriance to slap him across the rear—which he doubted was what Ranette had intended.

“Sir,” Darriance said, turning away from Wayne’s proffered posterior. “In addition to the package, Lady Harms awaits you in the sitting room.”

Wax hesitated, impatient to go upstairs. He needed time to think—preferably with his earring in—and to go through Ranette’s package. They were always very interesting.

But he couldn’t simply ignore Steris. “Thank you, Darriance,” Wax said. “Send a note to my grandmother at the Village that says we found the missing Terriswoman, but someone had gotten to her—and regretfully killed her—before we arrived. Say the constables will explain the rest, and may have questions for her.”

“Very well, my lord.”

Wax pushed his way into the sitting room. Steris rose to greet him, and Wax kissed her hand. “I don’t have a lot of time, Steris.”

“You’ve sunk your teeth in, then,” she said, eyeing him up and down. “I suppose this could be useful. If you catch the murderer of the governor’s brother, it will be politically favorable.”

“Unless I drag some corpses out into the light.”

“Well, perhaps we can prepare for that,” she said. “Lady ZoBell’s party. You are still planning to attend with me?”

Rusts. He’d forgotten all about it.

“Our invitation has gone missing—I suspect Wayne is to blame—but it doesn’t matter. You’re lord of a Great House. They won’t turn us away.”

“Steris. I don’t know if I have the time…”

“The governor is attending,” Steris said. “You could speak with him about his brother.”

More meaningless conversation, Wax thought. More dances and political games. He needed to be working, hunting.

Bloody Tan. His eye twitched.

“There was some talk of the governor not attending,” Steris said, “considering what happened today. However, I have it on the best authority that he will come. He doesn’t want to appear to have anything to hide in these parlous times.”

Wax frowned. “Wait. What happened today?”

“Assassination attempt on the governor,” Steris said. “You really don’t know?”

“I’ve been busy. Rusts! Someone tried to kill him? Who?”

“Some deranged man,” Steris said. “Not in his right mind. They caught him, I’m told.”

“I’ll need to talk to the suspect,” Wax said, walking for the door. “It might be connected.”

“He wasn’t a credible threat,” Steris said. “By all reports, the man’s aim was terrible. He didn’t come close to hitting his intended victim. Waxillium?”

“Wayne!” Wax said, shoving open the door. “We’ve got—”

“On it already,” Wayne said, holding up a broadsheet from the table. Evening edition; Wax had a subscription. The top line read, “Bold Attack on the Governor in Daylight!” Wayne tossed Wax his hat off the rack, then snapped his fingers toward the butler—who was in the process of hanging Wayne’s duster in the coat closet. Darriance sighed, getting it back out and carrying it over.

“I’ll try to make the party,” Wax said to Steris, pulling his hat on. “If I’m not back, feel free to go without me.”

Steris folded her arms. “Oh? I suppose I should take the butler instead, then?”

“If you like.”

“Be careful about that, Steris,” Wayne added. “Wax’s butlers have a tendency to explode.”

Wax gave him a glare, and the two of them charged out the door toward the coach.