She was grinning as he launched forward, swinging. Yes, she could heal if he hit her, but a person could only heal so many times before running out of stored health. He had to keep hitting and hope she ran out before he did.
She dodged away this time.
“Oi!” Wayne said. “Stand still.”
“Oi…” she replied. “Oiiii…”
“Stop that!”
She danced back, smiling. “I’ve been waiting for this for years,” she said — her accent fading away. “Planning, preparing. I was built for you, Wayne. Aren’t you honored? I was made to kill you!”
“Ah! Do you hafta be weird too?”
“Once I kill you, I will wear your hat and carry your scent. It’s all I’m lacking.”
He stopped in place as she grinned at him. So. Rusting. Weird. She then turned, and her face fell. “What’s he doing here?”
Wayne edged over to see what she had. And … rusts, finally. The hero had arrived. Wax stood there like Ruin himself, tassels swirling around him, protecting the constables and firing wantonly into the enemy ranks.
The cheater was as good as defeated, now that Wax was here. All was right in the world.
Course, Wax was busy at the moment, and would need help. So Wayne bull-rushed the cheater, rammed his elbow into her gut — and felt something sharp in her arm when he did. Her metalminds maybe? Or the spike? Well then. Now that Wax was here, they could do a Two-Faced Special. Except with only Wayne, because Wax needed to shoot some folks.
When the cheater tried to throw Wayne off, he twisted and let her lurch into position. Then he reached around from behind her, took his dueling cane in two hands, and pulled it up under her chin. With a grunt, she began battering at him, but that only threw her off balance.
In a moment Wayne had her on the ground, one knee against her back, dueling cane pulled up and choking her. He’d been in this situation himself, and it was not fun — feeling your metalminds bleed dry as you were forced to heal from suffocation.
She struggled in a frenzy. The world around them slowed and sped up in spurts as she panic-activated her powers. But for all her skill with the canes, she’d skipped basic wrestling techniques. Someone who knew what they were doing could have thrown him.
He shook his head, disappointed. “You can’t skip wrestling holds, mate,” he told her. “If you want to brawl properly, you’ve got to know how to win on the ground.”
She responded with grunts, which was much better than before. He was lucky Wax had shown up. Wayne had been up against the wall before the hero arrived.
A figure in fine clothing dropped beside them. “Getruda,” he said to the woman, “I’m disappointed in you.” Then he pointed a gun at Wayne’s head.
Right, then. Wayne let go and ducked away. He dodged into a roll — because who doesn’t like a nice finishing roll — and came out of it with a speed bubble in place, sheltering him and Marasi, who had been seeing to one of the wounded.
“Hey,” he said, puffing. “Things are looking up, eh?”
“We should still pull out,” Marasi said. “This isn’t what we’re trained for.”
“Shame to leave when we’re winning though,” Wayne said. He nodded behind him. The Sequence was pointing toward the way out — mid-order — and the cheater was on her feet, running in that direction.
“Are we?” Marasi said. She looked down at Mathingdaw — the wounded constable — who had her eyes shut tight, grimacing from the pain of a bullet hole in her leg.
“If Wax deals with that Coinshot we are,” Wayne said. The enemy ranks were in chaos as their men tried to hide.
“They have at least a few aluminum bullets,” Marasi said, pointing to the side. Indeed some bullets — moving ever so slowly through the air — were ignoring Wax’s Pushes.
“Why so few though?” Wayne said. “Miles Hundredlives had tons of aluminum equipment.”
“This group planned to be caught today,” she said. “I’m convinced of it. They were going to let Blantach’s constables take them, rather than raise suspicion by stopping the investigation.”
“That’s a leap in logic,” Wayne said. “But you’re often right about this sorta thing. They wouldn’t want much aluminum to be taken. Departments have a habit of meltin’ it down for the money.”
Wayne glanced toward Wax, who stood out in front. Frozen as he pointed with three fingers at a passing bullet. He seemed to be … guiding it to the side.
Nah. That was a bit much, even for Wax.
“My gut says,” Wayne replied, “that if we hold out this lot will scatter. See, they already got a newsworthy incident by fightin’ us, and there’s not much more to gain. But we have wounded, and it’d be tough to pull out.”
Marasi nodded. “All right then. We hold position. So long as Wax chases off that Coinshot.”
“Dropping the bubble.”
“Go.”
He dropped it. Wax continued his spin, and rusts … the bullet he’d been pointing at seemed to go straight for one of the gangsters trying to sneak up on the constables’ position.
“Wax!” Marasi shouted. “We can handle these. But I need that Coinshot dealt with!”
Wax glanced at her, then nodded and fired at the Coinshot, who dodged into the air. The man launched straight up and smashed through the ceiling out into the city.
Wax followed, soaring through a broken skylight.
As the two vanished, the cheater ran out the front doors. The smarter gangsters realized what was up and ducked out any way they could. Wayne leaped out in front to draw fire, and Marasi scrambled to the side of the room. He wondered why until her grenade froze a small group of enemies.
The rest of this was cleanup; the real fight had moved to the sky. Wait, Wayne thought. He put up a speed bubble so two nearby wounded could crawl into the back of a truck for shelter. Did anyone warn Wax that the Coinshot can do those crazy super-Pushes?
Hmm. Well, Wayne supposed his friend would figure it out soon enough.
25
Wax darted into the air and felt a sudden moment of disconnect. He’d flown through Elendel so often that he expected to see its sights. This city — with its round layout, elevated train, and huge warships in the port — was disorienting. He had been here before, and knew about the strange design of the buildings, no two the same. But from up here, he could see they were arranged in an artistic pattern. Too orderly, too perfect, too balanced. Like a child’s model of a city.
The enemy Coinshot bounded away toward the perimeter of the city, and Wax gave chase with a few Steelpushes. His opponent was talented, maybe even a true Coinshot, augmented by Hemalurgy. He expertly Pushed off the buildings they passed, when newer Coinshots always looked for anchors — like cars — directly beneath them, and forgot about those behind.
Still, Wax managed to gain on the man by anticipating where he would Push. Wax raised Vindication. He didn’t want to kill the Coinshot — they needed answers — but perhaps a hit in the leg or arm would–
The man suddenly blasted into the air. The car below crumpled as if it had been stomped flat, and Wax winced for the poor people inside. The Coinshot launched high into the sky, swift as a bullet, difficult to track against the blinding sun.
Wax landed in a scramble on a nearby rooftop. Rusting hell. That had been …