“Our names are on here,” Wayne said, careful to keep moving as he read it over. “In a column of people specifically to be kept out. Wouldn’t have mattered how well you argued.”
“What?” she demanded, shoving up beside him. “Damn. I saved his life, the bastard.”
“Marasi!” Wayne said, grinning. “You’re startin’ to talk normal-like.”
“Because of you,” she said, then paused. “Bastard.”
He grinned, chewing his gum loudly. “You saved the governor’s life, yeah, but it’s probably his security who want to keep you out, not him. They’ve got mud on their faces because one of their own went rotten, and you embarrassed them by noticing first.”
“But that’s petty! They’re playing with the governor’s life!”
“Men are petty.” He danced to the side.
“Why are you moving like that?”
“If I stay too long in one place, they have a chance of seeing me, even with how fast we’re moving inside this bubble. If we keep moving we’ll be a blur, and out in the mists that should be unnoticeable.”
She reluctantly started moving.
Wayne glanced over the lists again, recognizing a name. “Here now. That one will work.”
“Wayne, you’re going to get us into trouble, aren’t you?”
“Only if we get caught!” He pointed. “They have two lists—people they’re to turn away no matter what, and people they’re to allow. See the notes? Fourth name down? Says he sent word he might not come, and they’re to make certain nobody else uses his invitation.”
“Wayne,” Marasi said, “that’s Professor Hanlanaze. He’s a brilliant mathematician.”
“Hm,” Wayne said, rubbing his chin. “From the university.”
“No, from New Seran. He’s been behind some of the discoveries in combustion technology.”
Wayne perked up. “From outside the city. So people might not know him.”
“They will by reputation.”
“But personally?”
“He’s somewhat reclusive,” Marasi said. “He often gets invited to things like this, but rarely comes. Wayne, I see that look in your eye. You can’t imitate him.”
“What’s the worst that could come of it?”
“We get caught,” she said, still walking with him around the speed bubble. “We get thrown in prison, prosecuted for conspiracy, embarrass Waxillium.”
“Now that,” Wayne said, striding back to where he’d been standing when he’d sped up time, “is the best damn argument for trying this that anyone could make. Come back so I can drop this speed bubble. After that we’re gonna need to find us some weapons.”
Marasi paled, joining him. “If you are thinking of sneaking guns in—”
“Not guns,” Wayne said with a grin. “A different kind of weapon. Math.”
*
“So that kandra is in here,” Steris said softly from her place on Wax’s arm as she scanned the party room. “Somewhere.”
The penthouse of ZoBell Tower encompassed its entire top floor, with windows ringing the outside. Light from a dozen dim chandeliers played off wineglasses, diamond jewelry, sequins on sleek dresses. The dress style was new. Was he so oblivious to fashion that he had missed such a dramatic shift?
Steris wore more traditional attire—a kind of gauzy, draping white dress with a very small bustle and a distinct waist. However, it had sequins lining the collar and cuffs, and was more filmy—lighter than what she normally wore, and actually quite pretty on her. With the sequins, it shared something with these modern gowns.
The party attendees moved around several bars and numerous small displays set up on the red-carpeted floor. Wax and Steris passed one, a stand with a glass box enclosing a raw copper nugget as big as a man’s head. Light glimmered on its surface.
Allomantic metals, Wax thought as they passed another display. Dozens of specimens, with plaques talking about where the nugget or vein had been mined. They provoked conversations around the room, clusters of people chatting as light played off the colorful drinks in their fingers.
“You’re drawing attention,” Steris noted. “I’m not certain wearing the coat was a wise move.”
“The mistcoat is a symbol,” Wax said. “It is a reminder.” She’d talked him out of the hat, but not this.
“It makes you look like a ruffian.”
“It’s supposed to. Maybe they’ll think twice about lying to me; I don’t want to be part of their games.”
“You are already part of their games, Lord Waxillium.”
“Which is why I don’t like coming to the parties.” He held up his hand, cutting her off. “I know. It’s important that we be here. Let’s go chat with the partygoers you’ve planned for us to approach.”
She always had a list, carefully prepared. Steris was the only person he’d ever heard of who brought an agenda to a cocktail party.
“No,” she said.
“No?”
“That is what we commonly do,” Steris said, giving a specific smile—she practiced different ones—to Lady Mulgrave as they passed. “Tonight’s purpose is yours. Let us be about it and find that killer.”