Page 162
Story: The Lost Metal
***
Wayne stayed wary, putting up a speed bubble and watching the Coinshot try to take aim at him. That trick with the button worried Wayne. His remaining stored-up health would probably let him survive a hit or two, but not much more. He felt so exposed.
I have to watch out for that super-metal he has too,Wayne thought.Or… actually… that’s probably my best way of beating him…
After gauging the direction the man was swinging his arm as he aimed, Wayne repositioned and dropped the bubble. A series ofbangssounded as the man’s shots missed. Then Wayne dodged in from the other direction and tackled him again. This time the man managed to keep his feet.
Wayne grunted. “You know, Stinky—can I call you Stinky?—I can respect what you’re doin’. Gettin’ into a man’s head to figure out how to beat him? That’s good strategy. But…”
The man Leeched away Wayne’s bendalloy, then shoved Wayne off and started punching, his face turning red with anger. Wayne dodged the blows, then leaped forward and grabbed him yet again.
“But weren’t you worried?” Wayne continued. “About contamination? Wax, you see,isn’ta complete waste of a person. While you obviously are. So by pretendin’ to be him, you might haveaccidentallyended up doin’ something useful.”
The man growled, shoving Wayne aside, then fired a few shots. Wayne took one of those—ouch—but managed another hit of bendalloy. That was the key. People expected a man like him to run out of such an expensive metal.
But the fellow didn’t know. He wasn’t merely fighting Wayne the amiable miscreant. He was fighting Wayne Terrisborn, filthy rich snob with way,waytoo much money to burn.
“You know I can heal, right?” Wayne said after dodging back out of a speed bubble. “Shootin’ me is kinda stupid.”
“Not if ithurts,” the man snapped, though he stopped firing. Mistake that, lettin’ Wayne talk him out of it. He couldn’t know that Wayne was running low on health—but then in general, you beat a Bloodmaker by makin’ them use up their metalminds.
Instead, the man fished in his pocket and brought out a pair of what seemed to be aluminum handcuffs. Wayne swallowed a wisecrack. That… was actually a good idea. If he could grapple with Wayne for long enough to lock him to something, then get away, he could shoot Wayne full of bullets at his leisure. The only way out would be for Wayne to cut his own hand off.
As he was considering, the man gestured at Wayne with the cuffs—which he didn’t need to do, but Wayne could admire the nice pose—and released aterriblewave of Allomantic strength, one that ripped the carpet up by its staples and sent Wayne tumbling backward.
Rusts. Even his metalminds—embedded beneath the skin of his thighs—felt those blasts. Still, Wayne had been ready for it. So hepretendedto be dazed, but instead watched keenly as the man covertly pulled an aluminum flask from his inner coat pocket and took a hit. Wax had said every time the fellow used that super-Push, he’dhave to replenish his steel.
Now I know where you keep that flask, friend.
With another speed bubble, Wayne rushed in close. The man groaned as—once again—Wayne grabbed on to him.
“You annoying littleprick,” the man snapped.
“Oh, mate,” Wayne said. “You sweet mama’s baby.” He pulled in closer. “You ain’t evenbegunto learn how annoying I can be.”
***
“I’m supposed to like the pain,” the woman said, circling Wax as they continued their dance—him trying to stay just far enough from her to avoid being hit, but not so far as to give her a chance to back up and make a speed bubble. “That’s something I didn’t know about him. Learned it recently, ya know? In the tunnel? He likes pain. I have to like pain. Enjoy fear. Savor misery.”
Wax didn’t reply, focused on keeping the right distance.
“Do ya know why?” the woman asked, feinting in, making Wax hop backward. “I didn’t at first. Freaked me out! I hadn’tseenthat innim. More I thought though, the more it made sense. Hemustlike the pain. Otherwise he’dhave ended things long ago. It’s the only answer that makes any sense.”
She lunged, and he dodged a little too far, because she broke and threw herself the other direction, rolling to the ground and becoming a blur. Wax cursed, dancing away—noticing something from the corner of his eye that made him feel comfortable backing up. A moment later, his back pressed up against Wayne’s.
“So, how’re things?” Wayne said.
“Could be better,” Wax replied.
“I hear you,” Wayne grumbled, giving them a speed bubble. “Wanna try something new? Shake it up?” He waggled one of his dueling canes in his hand.
“Sure.”
Wayne tossed a dueling cane into the air, and Wax tossedhimVindication, loaded with aluminum bullets. “Ignore the hazekiller chambers,” Wax said, snatching the cane from the air. “Lever on the top activates those.”
The bubble dropped, and Wax met Getruda with dueling cane against dueling cane—a crack of wood nearly as loud as Vindication, as Wayne took a few shots at Dumad.
Wax smiled at the sound. It was in some ways silly to enjoy hearing his friend fire the gun. But it wasn’t the action that mattered. It was the wound that had finally healed.
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