POV: wax
Summary
Wax follows Bleeder east across Elendel as two currents in the mist. She has practised with steel — she Pushes off passing lampposts and ducks low to shove on parked motorcars for lateral speed — but he is better at it. He runs her out of altitude first, hoping to drain her metal, then closes. He cuts inside her arcs over a row of squat burning buildings, drops his weight while in flight for the little speed-boost he has never been able to explain, and uses every cut corner and every careful arc to put himself a half-leap behind her. The chase confirms two things he has been turning over. She is not the Marksman: she wears one of his masks during the run to mock him, but Marks always ran for the insides of buildings to set ambushes, while she keeps to open air and the freedom of the outer city, as if frightened of indoors. And she did pick stolen Coinshotting over stored speed precisely because flight is what steel is best at — except that steel is his.
At the city's edge she misjudges and he gets a hand on her heels. She cries out, shoves herself sideways out over the river, and lands on the roadway of Eastbridge, catching a support wire. Wax sets down before her with the gun out. He offers her a way out: let him take her in, the others may someday find a way to heal her madness. *And become a slave again?* she whispers back. *Would you clasp the manacles willingly on your own hands?* — *if I had done what you've done, yes.* She launches up the bridge's eastern suspension tower, bouncing off support beams. He does not fire; he has Ranette's one bullet in the gun and a wasted shot would matter. He Pushes himself straight up after her, mistcoat flaring, and lands on the pinnacle.
She stands waiting in her red shirt and a loose cape, in the Marksman's red-and-white mask. He levels the gun.
She drops the mask.
She is wearing Lessie's face.
Below in the city, Marasi does not tell anyone — not even Aradel — that the governor they were protecting was the killer. What could she even say? She will make the report tomorrow. For now she stands near the front of MeLaan's stage watching Aradel pace in visible misery. MeLaan climbs up wearing Innate's body and begins the speech. The crowd quiets. Hostile-curious, but quiet. Marasi feels a calm seep through her that she has no business feeling — *everything is fine, why was she so worried earlier* — and snaps alert. She is being Soothed.
She thinks immediately of Suit and the Set: her uncle has Allomancers and every reason to want Bleeder's plan to succeed. When MeLaan's speech turns toward the reformist material Marasi wrote into it and the Set catches the deviation, they will whip the crowd into a frenzy themselves. She has to move fast and quietly without alerting them. Aradel is on the stage, no use; she scrambles over to Reddi at the base of the steps and tells him there is a Soother in the crowd somewhere, dampening their emotions, with a Rioter waiting to do the opposite once the speech turns. Reddi yawns, calls her silly, tells her *everything's fine, lieutenant*. She tightens her grip on his arm and asks how he feels — *fine* — *not annoyed at me? not jealous I hold the position you should have?* He glares at her, cocks his head, and curses under his breath: usually he hates her and right now all he feels is a mild dislike. *Someone is playing with my emotions. No offense.* — *can't take any, I'm having trouble feeling strong emotion at all.*
He goes off to organise a squad and asks how on earth they will find the Allomancers in a crowd this big. Marasi scans the square and lands on the only logical place: a small carriage parked discreetly in an alley across from the mansion's front. The Set's people will not want to be inside the mob they are about to turn murderous. *Come on.*