Mistborn #04 The Alloy of Law

where the Vanishers will strike. I don’t want to pound a brittle metal, Lord Waxillium, but we really should tell the constables that fact.”
    “I think I know where the attack will happen. If we let the constables know, they’ll flood the area and scare off Miles.”
    “Wax,” she said, stepping closer. “I understand that independent spirit; it’s part of what makes you what you are. But we’re not in the Roughs. You don’t have to do this all by yourself.”
    “I don’t intend to. I’ll involve the constables, I promise. Miles, however, is not an ordinary criminal. He knows what the constables will try, and he will watch for them. This has to be done at the right time, in the right way.” Waxillium tapped his notations on the wall. “I know Miles. I know how he thinks. He’s like me.”
    Almost too much so.
    “That means he can anticipate you too.”
    “He undoubtedly will. I’ll anticipate him better.”
    The moment Waxillium had drawn his gun and fired back against the Vanishers, he’d started down this path. Once he got his teeth into something, he didn’t let go.
    “You are right about me,” he said.
    “Right? I don’t believe I said anything about you, Lord Waxillium.”
    “You’re thinking it,” he said. “That I’m arrogant for wanting to do this my way, for not handing this over to the constables. That I’m foolhardy to not look for help. You’re right.”
    “It’s not so bad as that,” she said.
    “It’s not bad at all,” he said. “I am arrogant and foolhardy. I am acting like I’m still in the Roughs. But I’m also right.” He reached up, drawing a small square on the paper, then an arrow from it toward the precinct building.
    “I’ve written a letter for Ranette to send to the constables,” he continued. “It details everything I’ve discovered, and my guesses on what Miles will do, should I fail to best him. I won’t make any move tonight until we’re well away from the railway and any passengers. The Vanishers won’t take a hostage tonight. They’ll try to be as quick and as silent as possible.
    “But it will still be dangerous. People might die, innocent ones. I’ll try my best to keep them from harm, and I firmly believe I have a better chance against Miles than the constables would. I realize that you are studying to be an attorney and a judge, and that your training mandates you should go to the authorities. Considering my plans, and my promises, will you refrain and help me instead?”
    “Yes.”
    Harmony , he thought. She trusts me. Too much, probably. He reached up, squaring off a box of notes. “This is your part.”
    “I won’t be in the train car with you?” She sounded worried.
    “No,” Waxillium said. “You and Wayne will watch from the hilltop.”
    “You’ll be alone.”
    “I will.”
    She fell silent. “You knew what I was thinking of you. What are you thinking of me, Lord Waxillium?”
    He smiled. “If the game is to work the same way, I can’t tell you my thoughts. You need to guess them.”
    “You are thinking about how young I am,” she said. “And you’re worried about having me involved, lest I be hurt.”
    “Hardly a difficult guess. So far, I’ve given you what … three opportunities to abandon this course and seek safety?”
    “You’re also thinking,” she said, “that you’re glad I insist on staying, because I will be useful. Life has taught you to use the resources you have.”
    “Better,” he said.
    “You think I’m clever, as you have stated. But you also worry that I get flustered too easily, and worry it will be used against you.”
    “Do those records you’ve read talk about Paclo the Dusty?”
    “Sure. He was one of your deputies before you met Wayne.”
    “He was a good friend,” Waxillium said. “And a solid lawman. But I’ve never met a man who was as easy to startle as Paclo. A softly closed door could make him yelp.”
    She frowned.
    “I assume the records didn’t talk about that,” Waxillium said.
    “They depict him as very brave.”
    “He was brave, Lady Marasi. You see, many people mistake startlement for cowardice. Yes, a gunshot would make Paclo jump. Then he’d run to see what had caused it. I once saw him stare down six men with guns trained on him, and he didn’t break a sweat.”
    He turned to her. “You are inexperienced. So was I, once. So is every man. The measure of a person is not how much they have lived. It is not how easily they jump at a noise or