“It’s just that…” She raised a hand to shade her eyes and looked down in embarrassment. “It’s just … Oh, all right. I’m studying legal justice and criminal behavioristics.”
“That’s something to be ashamed of?” Waxillium said, sharing a confused look with Wayne.
“Well, I’ve been told it’s not very feminine,” she said. “But beyond that … well, I’m sitting with you two … and … well, you know … you’re two of the most famous lawkeepers in the world, and all…”
“Trust me,” Waxillium said. “We don’t know as much as you might think.”
“Now, if you were studying buffoonery and idiotic behavior,” Wayne added, “that is something we’re experts on.”
“That’s two things,” Waxillium said.
“Don’t care.” Wayne continued eating the bread. “So where are the other two? I’m assuming you didn’t really devour them. Wax only eats people on the weekend.”
“Both will likely be returning soon, Wayne,” Waxillium said. “So if you had a purpose to your visit, you may wish to be on with it. Unless this is just normal, run-of-the-mill tormenting.”
“I told you what it was about,” Wayne said. “You didn’t accidentally eat my note, did you?”
“No. It didn’t say much.”
“It said enough,” Wayne said, leaning in. “Wax, you told me to look at the hostages. You were right.”
“They’re all Allomancers,” Waxillium guessed.
“More than that,” Wayne said. “They’re all relatives.”
“It’s only been three hundred years since the Originators, Wayne. We’re all relatives.”
“Does that mean you’ll take responsibility for me?”
“No.”
Wayne chuckled, pulling a folded piece of paper from his duster pocket. “It’s more than that, Wax. Look. Each of the women kidnapped was from a particular line. I did some researchin’. Real, serious stuff.” He paused. “Why do they call it research if I’ve only done it this one time?”
“Because I’ll bet you had to look things up twice,” Waxillium said, taking the paper and studying it. It was written awkwardly, but was decipherable. It explained the basic lines of descent of each of the women kidnapped.
Several things stood out. Each of them could trace back to the Lord Mistborn himself. Because of that, most of them also had a strong heritage of Allomancy in their past. They were all fairly closely related, third or fourth cousins, some first.
Waxillium looked up, and noticed Marasi smiling broadly, regarding him and Wayne.
“What?” Waxillium asked.
“I knew it!” she exclaimed. “I knew you were in town to investigate the Vanishers. You showed up to become house lord only one month after the first robbery happened. You’re going to catch them, aren’t you?”
“Is that why you insisted that Lord Harms bring you to meetings with me?”
“Maybe.”
“Marasi,” Waxillium said, sighing. “You’re jumping to conclusions. Do you think the deaths in my family, making me house lord, were fabrications?”
“Well, no,” she said. “But I was surprised that you’d accepted the title until I realized that you probably saw it as a chance to find out what is going on with these robberies. You have to admit, they are unusual.”
“So is Wayne,” Waxillium said. “But I wouldn’t uproot myself, change my entire lifestyle, and accept responsibility for an entire house just to study him.”
“Look, Wax,” Wayne jumped in—ignoring the barb, which was unusual for him. “Please tell me you brought a gun with you.”
“What? No, I didn’t.” Waxillium folded up the paper and handed it back. “Why would you care?”
“Because,” Wayne said, snatching the paper from his hand and leaning in. “Don’t you see? The thieves are looking for places they can rob where the wealthy upper class of Elendel can be found—because among those wealthy upper-class types, they find their targets. People with the right heritage. Those types, rich types, have stopped traveling on the railway.”