The Bands of Mourning (Mistborn #6) - Brandon Sanderson Page 0,78
I want less and less to be alone. I can’t explain it, I guess. She’s my family. My only family.”
Outside, a new voice started talking. Introduction done, Lord Severington had begun his speech. Wax glanced at the clock, then stood. “All right. I need to go and explore while everyone else is distracted by the speech.”
Steris nodded, then swung her feet over the side of the bed and took a deep breath.
“You should wait here,” Wax said. “This could be dangerous.”
“Have you forgotten what I said last night?” she asked.
“The safest place to be is most certainly not near me, Steris,” Wax said.
“Regardless, you may need to escape quickly. There won’t be time to come back for me. And if you’re spotted, someone will wonder why you are alone—but if we’re together, we can say we were just leaving, and were looking for the way to our carriage.”
Those were good arguments. He reluctantly nodded, motioning for her to follow. She did so with alacrity, waiting beside the door as he opened it and peeked out. He could hear Lord Severington’s voice even better.
“… time to show those in Elendel that their tyranny is not only unjust, it is against the will of the Survivor, who died in the name of freedom.…”
The hallway was empty. Wax stepped out, Steris at his side. “Try not to look like you’re sneaking,” he suggested softly.
She nodded, and together they moved down a long hallway set with brass gas lamps that had been converted to electricity. According to the mansion layout he had memorized, the ballroom and these small guest quarters were in their own wing to the east. If they moved west along this hallway, took this corner …
They passed under an archway into the mansion’s central atrium, where a stream ran through the center of the mansion—diverted from one of the waterfalls, then cascading down a set of arranged rocks covered in chimes. Only a few lights glowed on the walls, giving the atrium a dusklike feeling.
“That humidity must be awful for the mansion’s woodwork,” Steris noted. “What practical reason could they have to run a river through the middle of their house?”
“I’m sure the reasons aren’t practical at all,” Wax said. Nearby, a maid passed in from another doorway. She saw him and froze.
Wax glared at her, standing up straight, putting as much nobleman sneer into his expression as he could muster. The young woman didn’t challenge them, but ducked her head and scuttled away, carrying her stack of linens.
They picked their way through the dim atrium. Above, broad glass windows would have given a view of the sky—but instead mist spun and swirled. Wax raised his fingers in greeting toward the distant mists, but stopped himself.
Harmony watched through those mists. Harmony the impotent, Harmony the meaningless. He set his jaw and turned away from the windows, leading Steris along a path in the indoor garden, which was set with small rocks and plants. From his maps, he guessed that Kelesina would be up on the second floor somewhere. As they followed the path northward, walking along the stream, he spotted a second-floor balcony.
“Honestly,” Steris muttered, “how can they even know if the water is sanitary? A river running through their gardens wasn’t enough? It has to go through the house itself?”
Wax smiled, studying that balcony. “I’m going to scout ahead up there. Speak loudly if someone confronts you. That will warn me, and I’ll sneak back.”
“Very well,” Steris said.
He dug in his pocket for a few coins, feeling old-fashioned as he burned steel and prepared to jump.
“Do you want something more substantial?” Steris asked.
He glanced at her, then down at her purse. “They searched your purse.”
“That they did,” she said, then took the hem of her skirt, lifting it up to the side and revealing a small handgun strapped to her thigh. “I worried they’d do something like that. So I made other plans.”
Wax grinned. “I could get used to having you around, Steris.”
She blushed in the dim light. “I might, uh, need your help getting the thing off.”
He knelt down, realizing that she’d used approximately seven rolls of tape to strap the gun in place. Also, being Steris, she’d worn shorts under the dress—in case she had to do what she was doing. Two pairs, judging by the bit of cloth he saw peeking out from under the top one.
Wax set to work extricating the gun. “I see you didn’t want this coming off accidentally.”