The Bands of Mourning (Mistborn #6) - Brandon Sanderson Page 0,142
world where constables exist only to make people feel secure. It will be a world of shadows, of hidden government. The shift is already happening. Those who rule these days are not the men who smile at crowds and make speeches.”
Edwarn moved around a corpse, then followed Wax’s blood trail with his eyes. Only a few more steps.
“The day of kings has passed,” Edwarn said. “The day of mighty men to be worshiped has gone, and with its passing goes the right of Allomancers to power. No more will their gifts hinge on the whims of fate. Instead, the powers will come to those who deserve them. Who can use them.”
He raised his foot to step, then hesitated, looking down. He grinned, moving his foot backward and making Wax’s heart fall. “Trying to goad me into stepping onto the trap? Such a brash plan, Waxillium.” He glanced upward. “Looks like it’s rigged to drop this entire section of ceiling. You’d be caught in it too.”
Edwarn turned and looked right at where Wax was sitting, trying to hide among the corpses.
Wax raised his head. “It would have been worth the cost.” He still had his shotgun, but doubted he had the strength to use it. Instead, kneeling, he held out a single bloodied hand, clutching a bullet in it. “Shall we see how good you are, Uncle?”
A duel. Perhaps he could win a duel.
Edwarn regarded him, then shook his head. “I think not.”
He stepped on the pressure plate, triggering the trap.
* * *
Telsin marched Marasi and the others out of the temple. And, once they were outside, Telsin reached to Marasi’s arm and ripped free the medallion there.
Marasi gasped, clutching her purse as the cold descended upon her like a swarm of insects, nipping at every bit of exposed skin. Her dress suddenly seemed flimsy, useless. She might as well have been naked. Telsin repeated the process for Steris, then reached for Allik’s arm.
“Please,” Marasi said. “He—”
Telsin grabbed the medallion. Allik tried to pull away, but one of the guards cuffed him across the face, cracking his mask and sending him to the snowy ground. The guard reached down, ripping off the medallion.
Allik gasped loudly, huddling on the cold stone. Beyond them, the field was a flurry of activity. Tents flapped in the wind, and men scurried around the fallen Hunter airship. A group of people in masks were being marched across the field to a particularly large tent—so, Allik’s crewmates were still alive.
One man with a red uniform beneath his thick coat hiked up the steps. “Lady Sequence,” he said to Telsin as he reached the top. “We’ve located what we think must be the weapon.”
“The Bands?” Marasi asked.
Telsin looked at her drolly. “The Bands were a possibility. An engaging one, yes, and I will not deny my disappointment. Irich will be particularly displeased. But we didn’t come here for them.”
The airship, Marasi realized, looking toward it. Bearing a bomb intended to destroy the temple.
A bomb that had never been used. Men moved about the large airship, investigating it. This was what Suit and the others had come for.
Marasi stepped forward, but one of the guards grabbed her while another dug in her purse to check for anything dangerous. Another batted Steris’s notebook from her fingers, then began to frisk Steris none too gently.
“The ship is in good repair despite the elements, Sequence,” the soldier told Telsin as Marasi watched helplessly. “It didn’t crash as the other one did.”
“Excellent,” Telsin said. “Let’s see if that thing has any of the powering metal left in it.” She started down the steps, her warming medallion letting her ignore the freezing cold. She seemed like a spirit in her sleek, airy gown beside men in full winter gear. She hesitated, looking back at Marasi and the others.
“Search them thoroughly,” she informed the men. “I sensed faint metal from the older woman, but it’s gone now. Her notebook must have metal bindings. I don’t believe that they have any aluminum guns—besides the one that Waxillium had. Either way, keep watch on them. They’re insurance against the short one, who is still out here somewhere.”
* * *
The roof fell in on them.
Wax shouted, diving toward the pedestal and the two simple bracers. Suit took a different tack; he Pushed himself back away from the bracers, out of the path of the stones.
Rock hit Wax like a fist slamming him to the ground. Bones crunched inside of him. He gasped, but got a mouthful of dust.