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He was fighting Wayne Terrisborn, filthy rich snob with way, way too much money to burn.
“Some things,” she said softly, “cannot be planned for in life. I struggled to learn that, Varlance. But there is one thing I’ve learned that is true: No matter what else happens, Waxillium Ladrian will get wherever he needs to be. Somehow.”
“Yeah, I know who I am,” Wayne said. “I’m the God. Damn. HERO.” He paused. “Sorry.”
“Farewell, my friend,” Wax whispered, choking on his emotion. “You incredible rusting man. Thank you.”
“Carriage,” Hoid said, “for you. Sir.”
“Nervous,” Harmony said, his expression distant. “I can see pieces moving in the cosmere. Aligning. Pointed at us. We are not free of their influence. But we have … time, now. Time to prepare. Thanks to you, Wayne.”
Yes, Wayne. You exploded yourself in the biggest damn explosion a person has ever made in the history of our planet.”
It was of Silverlight.
TwinSoul hated being unable to get a full read on the man’s expressions, but Dlavil—like his sister who ran amok on Roshar—wore a mask that he never removed; it was grown in to the point that it was practically part of his skin.
“Something is wrong with Sazed. It’s getting worse.”
The very axi that made up matter had their own polarity, influenceable with Steelpushing under the right circumstances.
trellium—or, I suppose bavadinium would be its true name—it
My goal is to democratize this. Take the power away from the few, give it to the many.”
Sazed stared out over the city. Beyond the city. To things Kelsier couldn’t see, even with the eye of a god.
And there was a darkness within him. A different face from the one he showed. The powers were in imbalance. Ruin had always been stronger.
Hell, maybe even Mythos.
“I know you’re barely able to get the kandra out into the wider cosmere;
Yes, their army withdrew from Shadesmar—you’re welcome for my people’s help with that, by the way—but only because Autonomy is regrouping.
Of course, he’d gone out in the most incredible explosion ever. So she hadn’t felt that bad. If you had to die, then hell, that was the way.
“An Invested entity,” her guide said, “which can read Connection to find anyone, anywhere.”
Sho Del were apparently rare out here, but made excellent guides.
MeLaan turned. There was land ahead. And lights that seemed too alive for the cold fire of this strange place. People crowded around, hundreds of them, with strange outfits, many with odd red hair. Lost. This was her task. To save those people.
