Shadows of Self - Brandon Sanderson Page 0,56

they were sent to. With the attempt on the governor’s life, only guests named on our list can be allowed in.”

“But—” Marasi said.

“Here now,” Wayne cut in. “We’re important people. Don’t you see how fancy my cravat is?”

Near the door, men in black coats stepped forward, threatening. Rusting government security. Constables, they were real people—oh, they might bust a man’s neck now and then, but they came from the streets same as anyone. These spooks though … they barely had any soul to them.

“I saved the governor’s life today,” Marasi said. “Surely you won’t turn me away.”

“There’s nothing I can do, I’m afraid,” the bouncer said, his stern face completely expressionless.

Yeah, something was going on here. Wayne grabbed Marasi’s arm, towing her aside. “Let’s go. Rusting fools.”

“But—”

Wayne glanced over his shoulder and, just at the right moment, tossed up a speed bubble. “Alrighty, then,” he said. “New plan!”

“You sound excited,” she said, glancing at the borders of the speed bubble. It was more distinct than usual, as the mist inside the bubble continued to shift and move while that outside hung frozen in the air like gauze.

“I’m an excitable type,” Wayne said, hurrying back to the lectern where the bouncer stood. Wayne had managed to catch the lectern in his speed bubble, but not the bouncer. Right fine precision on his part. That little pedestal had a name manifest on it.

“I think you gave up too easily on getting in the ordinary way,” Marasi said, folding her arms.

“Our names are on here,” Wayne said, careful to keep moving as he read it over. “In a column of people specifically to be kept out. Wouldn’t have mattered how well you argued.”

“What?” she demanded, shoving up beside him. “Damn. I saved his life, the bastard.”

“Marasi!” Wayne said, grinning. “You’re startin’ to talk normal-like.”

“Because of you,” she said, then paused. “Bastard.”

He grinned, chewing his gum loudly. “You saved the governor’s life, yeah, but it’s probably his security who want to keep you out, not him. They’ve got mud on their faces because one of their own went rotten, and you embarrassed them by noticing first.”

“But that’s petty! They’re playing with the governor’s life!”

“Men are petty.” He danced to the side.

“Why are you moving like that?”

“If I stay too long in one place, they have a chance of seeing me, even with how fast we’re moving inside this bubble. If we keep moving we’ll be a blur, and out in the mists that should be unnoticeable.”

She reluctantly started moving.

Wayne glanced over the lists again, recognizing a name. “Here now. That one will work.”

“Wayne, you’re going to get us into trouble, aren’t you?”

“Only if we get caught!” He pointed. “They have two lists—people they’re to turn away no matter what, and people they’re to allow. See the notes? Fourth name down? Says he sent word he might not come, and they’re to make certain nobody else uses his invitation.”

“Wayne,” Marasi said, “that’s Professor Hanlanaze. He’s a brilliant mathematician.”

“Hm,” Wayne said, rubbing his chin. “From the university.”

“No, from New Seran. He’s been behind some of the discoveries in combustion technology.”

Wayne perked up. “From outside the city. So people might not know him.”

“They will by reputation.”

“But personally?”

“He’s somewhat reclusive,” Marasi said. “He often gets invited to things like this, but rarely comes. Wayne, I see that look in your eye. You can’t imitate him.”

“What’s the worst that could come of it?”

“We get caught,” she said, still walking with him around the speed bubble. “We get thrown in prison, prosecuted for conspiracy, embarrass Waxillium.”

“Now that,” Wayne said, striding back to where he’d been standing when he’d sped up time, “is the best damn argument for trying this that anyone could make. Come back so I can drop this speed bubble. After that we’re gonna need to find us some weapons.”

Marasi paled, joining him. “If you are thinking of sneaking guns in—”

“Not guns,” Wayne said with a grin. “A different kind of weapon. Math.”

* * *

“So that kandra is in here,” Steris said softly from her place on Wax’s arm as she scanned the party room. “Somewhere.”

The penthouse of ZoBell Tower encompassed its entire top floor, with windows ringing the outside. Light from a dozen dim chandeliers played off wineglasses, diamond jewelry, sequins on sleek dresses. The dress style was new. Was he so oblivious to fashion that he had missed such a dramatic shift?

Steris wore more traditional attire—a kind of gauzy, draping white dress with a very small bustle and a distinct waist. However, it had sequins lining

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