Mistborn #04 The Alloy of Law

the waist. A pair of revolvers gleamed in holsters at his hips, and he rested a shotgun on each shoulder. His face was bloodied, but he was smiling.
    Without saying a word, he lowered the shotguns and blasted Miles in the side.

19

    Shooting Miles was, of course, useless. The man could survive a dynamite explosion at close range. He could take a few shotgun blasts.
    But the shots caused the Coinshot to Push himself away in alarm. They also left Miles sprayed with metal. Wax increased his weight and Pushed, though he found it hard to get a purchase on the birdshot. Any metal that pierced a person’s body or touched his blood was very difficult to affect with Allomancy.
    Fortunately, Miles’s body obliged him by healing itself and spitting out the birdshot. In the instant before it could drop to the floor, Wax’s Push suddenly found anchors, and he threw Miles across the room and into the wall.
    The Coinshot landed on the other side of the room. Waxillium dashed forward, mistcoat flapping. Damn, but it felt good to be wearing one of those again. He skidded to a stop beside Marasi, taking cover next to the railcar.
    “I almost had him,” Marasi said.
    “Waxillium!” Miles bellowed, his voice echoing in the room. “All you do is stall. Well, know this . My men have gone to kill the woman you came here to save. If you want her to live, give yourself to me. We—”
    His voice cut off strangely. Wax frowned as something moved behind Marasi. She jumped, and Wax pointed a shotgun, but it turned out to be Wayne.
    “Hey,” he said, puffing. “Nice gun.”
    “Thanks,” Wax said, shouldering it, noting the speed bubble around them. That was what had stopped Miles’s voice. “Your arm?”
    Wayne glanced down at the bloody bandage around his left arm. “Not so good. I’m outta healing, lost some blood. I’m slowing, Wax. Slowing too much. You look pretty beat-up yourself.”
    “I’ll survive.” Wax’s leg was throbbing, his face scraped up, but he felt surprisingly good. He always felt that way, in the mists.
    “The things he’s saying,” Marasi said. “You think he’s telling the truth?”
    “He might be, Wax,” Wayne said urgently. “The blokes who was set up in front of the tunnel, they charged off a few shakes back. Looked like they had something important to do.”
    “Miles did tell them something,” Marasi added.
    “Damn,” Wax said, glancing around the corner of the railcar. Miles might be bluffing … but then again, he might not be. It wasn’t a chance Wax could take. “That Coinshot is going to make things difficult. We need to take him down.”
    “What happened to Ranette’s fancy gun?” Wayne asked.
    “Not sure,” Wax said with a grimace.
    “Wow. She’s gonna rip out your insides, mate.”
    “I’ll be sure to blame you for it,” Wax said, still watching the Coinshot. “He’s good. Dangerous. We’ll never take out Miles unless that Allomancer is dead.”
    “But you’ve got those special bullets,” Marasi noted.
    “One,” Wax said, slipping a shotgun into its holster inside his coat. He pulled out the other Coinshot round. “I don’t think an ordinary revolver will fire this. I…”
    He trailed off, then looked at Marasi. She was raising an eyebrow at him.
    “Right,” Wax said. “Can you two keep Miles busy?”
    “No problem,” Wayne said.
    “Let’s go, then,” Wax said, taking a deep breath. “One last try.”
    Wayne met his eyes and nodded. Wax saw tension in his friend’s face. The two of them were battered and bloodied, low on metals, metalminds drained.
    But they’d been here before. And this was when they tended to shine their brightest.
    As the speed bubble fell, Wax ran out from behind the train car. He tossed the bullet into the air ahead of him, then Pushed on it with a quick snap of power. The Coinshot raised his hand with casual confidence, Pushing it right back at Wax.
    The casing and bullet proper broke free and flipped toward Wax, who deflected them easily, but the ceramic tip continued forward. It took the Coinshot right in the eye.
    Bless you, Ranette, Wax thought, leaping up and Pushing off the coins in a fallen Vanisher’s pocket. That launched him forward, into the tunnel. There were tracks on the ground here, as if this were built for a train.
    Wax frowned in puzzlement, but Pushed on them, heedlessly hurling himself through the darkness until he reached a set of stairs leading upward. The ceiling here was wood; a structure of some