“… Sublime and devastating at once?” Marasi asked. “Dangerous because of what it could do in the wrong hands, yet somehow more dangerous in your own?”

“Yes.”

They shared something in that moment, swept by winds. Something they’d touched, something—hopefully—only they would know.

They turned together without a word, seeking the skimmer. Jordis would want to load it on the ship, but first there was a corpse Wax needed to see. He didn’t blame Wayne for what he’d done to Telsin. Yes, taking her to Elendel for justice—and interrogation—would have been better. And yes, he found that he’d rather have pulled the trigger himself. Harmony was right about that.

But either way, Telsin was dealt with. That meant—

Blood on the snow.

No skimmer.

More importantly, no body.

Marasi froze in place as they drew near, but Wax approached the empty patch of ground. She had slipped away, again. He found he was not surprised, though he was impressed. She’d gotten the skimmer aloft and away during the fighting, escaping during the chaos.

Wayne should have known she might be able to heal herself, Wax thought, going down on one knee beside the eerie pattern of blood drops that seemed to outline a body.

“It’s not done, then,” Marasi said.

Wax brushed the drops of blood, frozen to the ground. He’d spent the last eighteen months trying to save this woman. And when he finally had, she’d killed him.

“It’s not done,” he said. “But in some ways, that’s better.”

“Because your sister isn’t dead?”

He turned toward Marasi. It seemed that despite hours in this frozen place, the cold had only just reached inside of him.

“No,” he said. “Because now I have someone to hunt.”

31

“Wax, you gotta see this!”

Wax tipped his head back, bleary-eyed. These bunks were not particularly pleasant, but at least the airship flew in a calm, smooth manner. That was nice, as the skimmer had always felt as if it were one gust of wind away from plowing nose-first into a hillside.

Wayne hung halfway out of the room’s large window.

“That window opens?” Wax asked, surprised.

“Any window opens,” Wayne said, “if you push hard enough. Look, you’ve gotta see this.”

Wax sighed, climbing up and leaning out of the window beside Wayne. Beneath them, Elendel spread out as a vast sea of lights.

“Like rivers of fire,” Wayne mumbled. “Look how it follows patterns. Rich areas more lit, roads all in lines. Beautiful.”

Wax grunted.

“That’s all you can say, mate?”

“Wayne, I see this basically every night.”

“Now, that there, that ain’t fair. You should feel guilty.”

“For being a Coinshot?”

“For cheatin’ at life, Wax.”

“How about I feel appreciative instead?”

“Suppose that’ll do.”