The Alloy of Law - Brandon Sanderson [19]
“Haven’t you heard?” Lord Harms asked. “It was in all the broadsheets.”
“Was anyone harmed?”
“Not at the event itself,” Lord Harms said, “but they did take a hostage as they escaped.”
“Such a horrid thing,” Steris said. “Nobody has heard from Armal yet.” She looked sick.
“You knew her?” Wayne asked, his accent slipping faintly as he grew interested.
“Cousin,” Steris said.
“Same as…” Waxillium asked, nodding toward Marasi.
The three regarded him with confused expressions for a moment, but then Lord Harms jumped in. “Ah, no. Different side of the family.”
“Interesting,” Waxillium said, leaning back in his chair, tea sitting ignored in his hand. “And ambitious. Robbing an entire playhouse? How many of the robbers were there?”
“Dozens,” Marasi said. “Maybe as many as thirty, so the reports say.”
“Quite a band. That means as many as another eight just to drive them away. And vehicles for escaping. Impressive.”
“It’s the Vanishers,” Marasi said. “The ones stealing from the railway also.”
“That hasn’t been proven,” Wayne replied, pointing at her.
“No. But one of the witnesses from a railway robbery described several men who were at the theater robbery.”
“Wait,” Waxillium said. “There were witnesses to one of the railway robberies? I thought they happened in secret. Something about a ghostly railcar appearing on the tracks?”
“Yes,” Wayne said. “The railway engineers stop to investigate and—probably—panic. But the phantom railcar vanishes before they can investigate it. They continue on, but when they reach the end 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 phantom on the tracks, men jump into the cars and start going through, collecting jewelry and pocketbooks from the occupants. They take a woman hostage—threatening to kill her if anyone follows—and go. The freight car is still robbed as well.”
“Curious,” Waxillium said.
“Yes,” Marasi said. “I think—”
“My dear,” Lord Harms cut in. “You are bothering Lord Ladrian.”
Marasi blushed, then looked down.
“It wasn’t a bother,” Waxillium said, tapping his teacup with his finger. “It—”
“Is that a bullet in your fingers?” Steris asked, pointing.
Waxillium looked down, realizing that he was rolling the cartridge between forefinger and thumb. He closed his fist around it before his memories could return. “It’s nothing.” He shot a glare at Wayne.
The other man mouthed something. Push on it.
“You are quite certain your unconventional past is behind you, Lord Ladrian?” Steris asked.
“Oh, he’s certain,” Wayne said, grimacing. “You don’t have to worry about him being unconventional. Why, he’s downright boring! Unbelievably, comically, nonsensically boring. You could squeeze more excitement out of a beggar waiting in line at the soup kitchen on rat meat day. It—”
“Thank you, Uncle,” Waxillium said dryly. “Yes, Steris, my past is just that. Past. I am committed to my duties as head of House Ladrian.”
“Very well,” she said. “We will need a formal entrance into high society as a couple. A public event of some sort.”
“How about the Yomen-Ostlin wedding dinner?” Waxillium said absently. Push on it. “I received an invitation just this morning.”
“An excellent idea,” Lord Harms said. “We were invited as well.”
Push on it. Waxillium reached into his left sleeve and covertly took a small pinch of steel shavings from the pouch he kept there. He dropped it into his tea and took a drink. That didn’t give him much of a reserve, but it was enough.
He burned the steel, the familiar lines of blue springing up around him. They pointed to all nearby sources of metal.
Except the one in his fingers.
Aluminum, he realized. No wonder it’s light.
Aluminum and a few of its alloys were Allomantically inert; you couldn’t