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“So…” Wax said, “lies.”

“Our patrons understand what they’re buying, Lord Ladrian,” Maraga said, lifting her chin. “You know. You’re friends with Jak himself. It’s all about being larger than life, bigger than reality! Our patrons know we stretch to find the more interesting tidbits, the ‘might’s and the ‘could-be’s of the world.”

He shook his head, obviously unconvinced.

Maraga sniffed. “I did my journeymanship at theTimes,top paper in the city. Totally respectable. The amount they fudged, slanted, or outright fabricated would scandalize you. At leastI’mhonest about it. Besides, I don’t print lies. I print human-interest stories—the tales of people who are ignored by the larger media. Exciting stories, by adventuring celebrities. Cartoons, pictures of funny-shaped vegetables…”

“How funny?” Wayne said from across the room.

“Depends on your sense of humor,” Maraga replied.

“Crass. With a light seasoning of vulgarity.”

“Second box on the left,” she said. “Next to your foot.”

Wayne located the appropriate box, which was filled with sketches. In seconds he was snickering to himself.

“Anyway,” Maraga continued, “the more Tobal brought, and the more I pieced together, the more terrified I became. This… was a story. Arealstory. Not a whimsical tale about bug men or the dangers of electricity. This… this could get people killed. Could getmekilled.”

She looked up at them, then continued. “Once I believed, we worked for many months, putting all of this together. I started to see things he didn’t. Tobal wasn’t… completely credible. He jumped to conclusions. But he wasn’t wrong, not at the heart of the story. And he hadn’t made it up.

“He told me that one day he wouldn’t show up to our nightly conversation. He said, when that happened, I should run. Take everything to the authorities. But the authorities are involved, so… what then? Who to tell? And then, two weeks ago, he didn’t show up. One night. Two. Three… And I knew. Iknew.They’dfound him.”

“I’m sorry,” Marasi said.

“Could he still be alive?” Maraga asked. “Might they have just… taken him?”

“It’s possible,” Marasi said. “But… we don’t think it’s likely.”

Maraga nodded, looking down at her feet. Then she closed her eyes and seemed to be waiting. For what?

For the dice to land,Marasi realized.She doesn’t trust us. She’s waiting to see if we shoot.

Marasi looked around the room and noticed that Wayne—despite pretending to look at the pictures—was actually watching Moonlight, one hand resting lazily on his dueling cane. Likely with his metals ready, just in case she tried something. Even Wax was watching her from the corner of his eye.

“This is brilliant,” Moonlight said instead, staring at one of the walls. “Are these… trajectory estimations?”

Marasi joined her beside one set of sketches in tin, which depicted looping arcs. Moonlight was right; it looked like measurements with different estimates of how far a shot could reach.

Maraga stood up, seeming to take strength from the question. “That’s right,” she said. “Those numbers are the distances the Bilming militaryclaimtheir new guns can fire. They love to send releases to the local broadsheets, extolling their grand navy. It’s mostly bravado. They imply they could shell Elendel from twenty miles away, but that’s a lie. The guns are much shorter range than that.”

“And this?” Marasi asked, pointing at another set of trajectories.

“Poor Tobal’s job was to research chemical propellants,” Maraga replied. At their confused stares, she continued. “These people, they’re trying to develop self-propelled shells. Weapons that could firethemselvesand fly miles. Or even hundreds of miles. Before hitting and detonating.”

Rusts,Marasi thought, her eyes widening. She walked through the room, taking in each of the eight large plates on the walls. She identified one having to do with the “subway” systems of the city, a largeinterconnected cavern complex that was being “surveyed” to determine where to place train lines. But the truth, according to Maraga’s notes, was entirely different—the surveys were seeking caverns that could offer stable underground living conditions.

They’re preparing bunkers,Marasi thought.That’s what the supplies are for—they’re stocking up for a cataclysm, perhaps?

Just as people had sought refuge in caverns during the last days before the world ended. Before Harmony’s Ascension and the remaking of the land.

“This doesn’t makesense,” Wax said, joining her. “Harmony says my sister is trying to prove she can rule this planet. If she blows it up, what does that prove? Why build bunkers? Does she honestly think that saving a fragment of us and annihilating the rest would prove her competence?”

“I don’t know,” Marasi admitted, then pointed at another plate. “This talks about ashfalls. The days of ash and destruction allowed the Lord Ruler to secure near-universal power, at least in the North. So maybe Telsin thinks that would work again?”

“You should read the next plate over,” Maraga said.

Together they stepped to the side, reading what appeared to be a list of names. “Dupon Melstrom…” Wax read. “Vennis Hasting… Mari Hammondess… These are some of the most powerful senators in Elendel.”