The Bands of Mourning (Mistborn #6) - Brandon Sanderson Page 0,130
bedroom.
Wax nudged the mask. “You said the Hunters came to destroy this place.”
“Yes,” Allik said.
“Well, I think they either lied to you, or changed their minds.” Wax nodded toward the busted doors, then down the hallway, littered with bodies. “The lure of the Bands was too powerful for these fellows. I’d guess the dead ones we found near the ship were the ones determined to go through with blowing up the whole place. Got betrayed, but then these betrayers in turn fell to the traps. The ones who returned home; what happened to them? Vanished?”
“Yes,” Allik said, cocking his head. He raised his mask, revealing a wonderfully silly mustache and beard, then regarded Wax with awed eyes. “They went back to the Hunters. Then … gone. Returned to their families, it was said.”
“Executed,” Wax said, rising. “It was discovered they helped murder the rest of their crew, then tried to steal the Bands. They turned back because of the traps killing too many of their fellows, took a skimmer because it was all they could man, and returned with a made-up story of a blizzard. They were going to gather another crew and try again. Their superiors caught them first.”
Allik seemed befuddled. “How … how did you figure that—”
“He does this all the time,” Wayne said. “Best not to encourage him.”
“Just a theory,” Wax said. “One supported by the evidence though. Steris, Telsin. I want you to stay behind while—”
“I’m going with you,” Telsin snapped. She walked forward, cold as the dead blokes on the floor. “I won’t be shoved aside, Waxillium. I won’t be left for our uncle to catch up to us and take me again.”
Wax sighed, looking toward Steris and Marasi.
“I’ll stay,” Steris said. “Someone needs to watch the entrance for Suit and his people.”
Wax nodded, glancing at Wayne. “You keep an eye on her.” Then he looked to Marasi. “You keep an eye on him. We’ll come get you if we find anything.”
Marasi nodded. Wayne sighed.
“You intend to go forward?” Allik said, standing up, eyes bulging. “O Great Impetuous One, far be it from me—a lowly pilot—to question your ridiculous intentions, but … seriously? Didn’t you see the corpses?”
“I saw them,” Wax said. “MeLaan?”
“On it,” she said, striding forward.
“Great One,” Allik said, “I cannot but think they have traps designed to kill your kind. If they thought of all this, they will have prepared for one such as you.”
“Yes,” Wax said. “That spike was all wood.”
Allik grew more frantic. “Then why would you—”
MeLaan stepped on a pressure plate, causing a spear to launch out of one of the many small holes in the wall. It moved jarringly fast, piercing right through MeLaan’s torso, coming out the other side.
She sighed, looking down. “This is going to absolutely ruin my wardrobe.”
Allik gawked, then lifted his hand as if to raise his mask, only it was already up. He fumbled, unable to take his eyes off MeLaan, who yanked the spear out with a casual gesture.
“Traps,” Wax said, “are somewhat less threatening when you have an immortal along.”
“Unless they have explosives,” MeLaan said. “If I lose a spike, you’d better be ready to stick it right back in. And I was serious—this is going to be awful for my clothing.”
“You could do it without,” Wayne said hopefully.
She thought for a moment, then shrugged, reaching to grab her top.
“I’ll buy you new clothing, MeLaan,” Wax said, interrupting her. “We don’t want to make poor Allik fall over dead.”
“Actually,” Allik said, “I don’t think I’d mind.”
“Good man,” Wayne said. “Knew I liked you.”
“Ignore them,” Wax said. “Wayne, help guard the door. Allik, I need you with me, in case something is written in your language.”
The man nodded, then put back down his mask. Made sense why he wore one now. Wayne couldn’t grow a proper beard either, but at least he had the sense to shave.
MeLaan strolled down the hallway. “Telsin, stay behind me,” Wax said, “and step exactly where I step. Same for you, Allik.”
They left Wayne and the two ladies behind. Ahead, a large spiked log swung out of a hidden compartment and crushed MeLaan against the wall. She shook it off like a champ, stumbling on down the hallway while her leg re-formed.
“You know,” Wayne said, looking toward Steris and Marasi, “she might be even better at the Blackwatch Doublestomp than I am.”
24
Marasi settled in beside Wayne and Steris, watching the approach to the temple. Distant lanternlight showed Suit’s group. But they were getting closer.