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Wax parried the next set of dueling cane blows. She was better than he was—but this change-up obviously had her confused. She started at him in a more defensive posture, and he was able to briefly fend her off, then deliver a strike on her thigh. Looking for where her metalminds were embedded deep under the skin, where Allomancers couldn’t interfere with them.

Not either thigh,he thought, hitting again. She, like Wayne, seemed not to mind the hits. Indeed, her eyes flashed with pain at each one, and her smile widened. At the same time, she didn’t have the wild sense of pleasure he’dseen from some who truly enjoyed pain. She was trying to brute-force train herself to think like she believed Wayne did.

In some ways, that was even more disturbing.

She eventually came in more aggressively, and after he took a hit on his side—one that might have bruised a rib—he forced himself to retreat. His arm was still aching from the shrapnel earlier, and rusts… he was beginning to wear out.

So when Wayne came past him, Wax tossed him the cane back and caught Vindication as Wayne threw it. He’dfired all but the hazekiller rounds.

“More dodgin’ and hittin’?” the woman asked Wax with a yawn. “I don’t really mind, as it’s fun watchin’ you squirm. But I would rather not waste all night.”

Wax needed to try something different. So with steelsight, he located a suitable piece of metal: a doorstop by a nearby door. He leaped over and grabbed it, then turned back as the woman came at him in a blur.

Time to try something old-fashioned.

***

Wayne landed another grapple on the Coinshot. The man had given up burning away Wayne’s metals, and tried something smart. He took to the air—forcing Wayne to hold on tightly as he dangled. The Coinshot fired into the skylight, then they smashed through into the dark misty air. As they did, a shard of glass sliced the fellow along the arm something fierce.

Huh,Wayne thought.Look at that.

The wound didn’t heal. He wasn’t a Bloodmaker. So therewassome limit on the number of spikes the Set could stick inna person. Or maybe Trell/Telsin just didn’t want them to be so powerful they could challenge her.

Being in the air let Wayne control the fight far less; he really had to hold on, since if he dropped from up here—well, healing that would take basically all Wayne had. The need to hold on with both hands let the guy snap the handcuffs around one of Wayne’s wrists. Rusts.

Waynedidget a glimpse of the apparatus set up on the rooftop though, among the construction. It included a long, sleek weapon that looked an awful lot like… well, a sausage. And sausages looked like a fellow’s knob.

That had to be the rocket, and it hadn’t been launched yet, which was a very good sign. Wax’s sister stood there among some engineers, wearing jacket and cravat, the mists staying far away from her—like she had aninvisible glass bubble. Her waiting with hands clasped behind her back, and staring off into the darkness… that seemed a bad sign.

The Coinshot let them go down lower, then used a Push off some apparatus to jerk them forward, then another Push sent them backward. The jarring motion dislodged Wayne, who dropped with a grunt of annoyance to the rooftop. Not far enough to need much healing, but still.

Damn, damn,damn.

Well, if the fellow was going to fight dirty, Wayne could do the same. Granted, Wayne would fight dirtyanyway,but he felt better about it in moments like this. He ran toward the broken skylight, where hopefully he could drop down to help Wax fight Getruda.

***

Wax used the metal doorstop like a bludgeon, Pushing it at the woman. She dodged by instinct, as something that large would hurt more than a bullet.

Wax leaped over her as she rolled, then he Pushed the doorstop toward her again, hitting her in the arm and snapping bones.

She growled, agony breaking through her facade. It made her stumble and slow momentarily as she waited to heal—which let Wax reposition and shove the doorstop straight into her foot, shattering bones there too.

It bounced to the side, and he used a Push to soar in that direction, grab it, and shoot it again. By then she’dhealed and managed to get out of the way—but this weapon made her keep dodging. Whenever she was distracted, or the bludgeon fell far enough away to be awkward retrieving immediately, he hit her with a bullet Pushed from his fingers. He didn’t pause to reload. He just kept beating her down.

Her quips trailed off. He grabbed a chunk of metal from the broken skylight and used that too. He kept throwing things at her, relentless, a flurry of steel she had to dodge, or be slowed by pain and healing. Soon she seemed moreangrythan anything else, and she kept trying to find a way to engage him directly.

Wax didn’t let her. He cut the woman on one side. Then the other. Then he delivered a bullet directly into her arm—and caught sight of a glimmer of metal. The wound healed over in a moment, but he knew what he’dseen. Her metalmind.

A second later, Wayne came thumping down from above, breathing heavily and muttering under his breath. Wax reached out and had hisfingers in the right place to be inside the bubble when it appeared. Since any part of your body touching the perimeter would work to hold you in it, with that brush of the fingertips he was able to step in and join Wayne.

“Mate,” Wayne said, “fightin’ you is rustin’ hard.”

“Likewise,” Wax said.

“It’sfunthough,” Wayne noted. “He’srealannoyed.”

“Well,” Wax said, “I’ll admit I’ve often wanted an excuse to shoot someone short, with an exaggerated accent, wearing a bowler hat.”