Rusts. For the first time in his life, he had an advantage over her. Telsin, by marinating in her own ambitions for years, had become an extreme version of the woman he knew. She’dcontinued on exactly the path he’dworried about since her youth. But he’ddeviated. He’dgrown. He’dchanged.
“I might not be able to fix things in Elendel,” he found himself saying. “I might not grasp everything that’s happening with you and Autonomy. But stopping a bomb is something I can solve. Something Iwillsolve.”
She sighed, seeing only the dogged lawman. Her little brother and his fantasies.
“You have no idea…” she whispered, looking away. “You can’t stop this, Wax. Even if you did find the bomb, there are redundancies upon redundancies to make sure that Autonomy gets what she wants. We need toproveourselves. And I’m going to do that.”
Redundancies. What did she mean by that? It didn’t sound like the army Autonomy was supposedly sending. Were there other, internal pressures? Rivals? He took a guess.
“Gave Entrone,” he said, “is trying to overtake you. Seize your position.”
“Entrone is a coward,” she said. “He won’t move against me. Wax, you’re not half as smart as you think you are.”
He might not see it all, true—but if Entrone was a coward, then maybe Wax was interrogating the wrong person. He doubted he could break Telsin. But clearly there was someoneelsewho knew these plans.
So, I get Entrone to break,he thought.
“You ever stand up someplace high,” Telsin said, “and feel the irresistible urge to throw yourself off?”
“No,” Wax said, frowning. “If I want to, I jump. If I don’t, I don’t.”
“The curse of Steelpushing,” she said, staring out over the city. “You can’t feel it. The call to do something dramatic, drastic,impressive.”
“The urge to kill yourself on a whim?” Wax asked, baffled.
“The opportunity to be afraid,” she whispered. “To do something thrilling and new. You know, I resisted getting the spikes for Steelpushing and Ironpulling? I didn’t want to lose my nervousness around heights. Then I found new fears, new challenges, newambitions.”
Wax nodded slowly. That was his Telsin. The woman who always pushed recklessly for more. More power. But also more experiences. More novelty. More control over others.
“There’s an entire cosmere out there,” she said to him. “Few ever see or know it. But I have a chance to. A real chance. I’m not going to let you take that from me. I’m telling you, Wax, I’m not going to pull my punches. I’ll dowhatever it takes.”
“And I’ll stop you. Whatever it takes.”
“Ever the moralist,” she said, glancing at him. “Standing so tall, pretending you see so high, when in reality you can barelygraspthe problems you’re trying to fix. I’ve already solved them. Do you want to hear of Trell? Autonomy? What it means to be her avatar?”
A part of him did. But if she wanted to tell him about it… if she was offering…
Rusts, then she was stalling.
She was desperate, trying to buy as much time as she could. That piece clicked into place. She was talking to him because she had to keep him distracted. The trick wasn’t to realize that she was stalling, it was to recognize that as long as he let her tease him with information, she held all the cards.
There was only one way to win this particular game. And that was to leave the table.
“She’s going to destroy us?” he said, strolling across the top of the roof behind her.
“Unless I prove to her that we’re worth saving,” she explained, turning to survey the city. As before, she didn’t seem to care that she had her back to him. “Autonomy is… odd. She respects those who are bold, strong, able to survive on their own. But she also wants them to obey her. I suppose that is the irony of godhood. Half the time, being ‘autonomous’ means following her plan. And there’s no Whimsy to her—that’s a different god.
“Autonomy is rugged individualism filtered through the lens of a god who thinks she knows best. And in that context, individualism is a virtue best applied to finding ways to carry out the plansshehas outlined. You get to be individual in your chosen path to do whatshesays…”
Wax missed the next part, as he had quietly slipped over the side of the roof. With luck, she’dkeep right on talking, giving him time to get away.
36
Marasi and Moonlight hurriedly finished up in the basement—Moonlight grabbing a last few rubbings of the wall plates and tucking them away in her case. Together they then climbed to the main floor, where they found the grey-haired editor Maraga standing in the center of a cluttered room, holding an overstuffed travel bag and looking frazzled.
“On his way out,” she said to Marasi, “Dawnshot told me to go to family in the countryside. But all of my family is either here or in Elendel. Should I… go to them?”
“Probably not wise,” Marasi said. Any family in Bilming would be easily tracked down by the Set, and Elendel… well, it had a massive bomb pointed at it.