“Why does this keep happening to me?” Marasi asked. “Yes, I know I won’t be able to hear your reply. But this is… what, the third time someone has tried to use me as a hostage? Do I exude indefensibility or something?”

Yes, you do, Wax thought, though he didn’t say it. That’s a good thing. It makes them underestimate you. Marasi was a strong person. She thought clearly in times of stress; she did what needed to be done, even if it was unpleasant. However, she was also very keen on dressing nicely and making herself up.

Lessie would have had none of that. The only times Wax had seen her in a dress were when they’d made the occasional trip to Covingtar to visit the Pathian gardens there. He smiled, remembering a time she’d actually worn trousers under the dress.

“Lord Ladrian!” Constable Reddi trotted over, wearing the uniform of a captain in the constabulary. The lean man had a neatly clipped, drooping mustache.

“Reddi,” Wax said, nodding to him. “Is Aradel here?”

“The constable-general is engaged in another investigation, my lord,” Reddi said with a crisp tone. Why did Wax always want to smack this man after talking to him? He was never insulting, always impeccably proper. Maybe that was reason enough.

Wax pointed toward the buildings. “Well, if you’d kindly have your men secure the area; we should probably question those nearby and see if, by some miracle, we can discover the identity of the man Lady Colms just killed.”

Reddi saluted, though it wasn’t technically necessary. Wax had a special deputized forbearance in the constabulary, allowing him to do things like… well, jump through the city armed and firing. But he wasn’t in their command structure.

The other constables moved to do as he requested anyway. As he glanced at the Marksman, Wax forcibly kept his anger in check. At this rate, he would never track down his uncle Edwarn. Wax had only the slightest hint of what the man was trying to accomplish.

It can make anyone into an Allomancer, you see… If we don’t use it, someone else will.

Words from the book Ironeyes had given him.

“Excellent work, my lord,” Reddi said in a calm voice, nodding to the fallen Marksman. The clothing was distinctive. “Another miscreant dealt with, and with your customary efficiency.”

Wax said nothing. Today’s “excellent work” was just another dead end.

“Hey, look!” Wayne said nearby. “I think I found one of that fellow’s teeth! That’s good luck, ain’t it?”

Marasi looked woozy, settling down on a nearby set of steps. Wax was tempted to go comfort her, but would she interpret it the wrong way? He didn’t want to lead her on.

“My lord, could we talk?” Reddi said as more constables flooded the area. “I mentioned the constable-general and another case. I was actually already on my way to find you when we heard of your chase here.”

Wax turned to him, immediately alert. “What has happened?”