“First, I would like to know something from Lady Marasi.” “Yes?” “Well, assuming you are to remain with us, I’d like to know what kind of Allomancer you are.” Wayne sat up with a start. “Huh?” Marasi blushed. “You carry a pouch of metal shavings in your handbag,” Waxillium said. “And you are always anxious to keep the handbag close. You know little about Feruchemy, but seem to understand Allomancy. You weren’t surprised when Wayne stopped time in a bubble around us—in fact, you stepped right up to the barrier, as if familiar with them. And you come from a hereditary line that is being hunted precisely because it includes a lot of Allomancers.” “I…” she said. “Well, there really wasn’t a good opportunity…” She blushed more furiously. “I’m surprised, and a little disappointed,” Wayne said. “Well,” she said quickly, “I—” “Oh, not at you,” Wayne said. “At Wax. I’d have expected that he’d put this sort of thing together on your first meeting.” “I’m growing slow in my old age,” Waxillium said dryly.