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507 pages, Hardcover
First published November 15, 2022
“You are whatever you want to be, Wayne. You’re the wind. You’re the stars. You are all endless things.”
"I would like to extend a special thanks to my good friends Kalyani and Rahul, longtime beta readers, who have been encouraging me for years to look into Indian mythology and lore for inspiration for fantasy storytelling. They provided excellent consultation in this book on a certain character who the three of us worked on together to try to expand the Cosmere a little bit in this direction."
“You’re meant to be helping people.”
“I’m good at pretendin‘ to be things I ain‘t, you know? I eventually put together how to feign bein‘ a person who was worth somethin‘. It’s a good lie. Still manage to believe it. . . . Mosta the time.“
“I know her,” Marasi said. “She’s a woman of … ill repute.”
“What?” Wayne said. “Who’s been saying that? Jammi has a great reputation. Of all the whores on the block, she gives the best –“
“I don’t need to hear the next part. Thank you.”
[Wayne’s mother tells him,] “You are whatever you want to be, Wayne. You’re the wind.. You’re the stars. You are all endless things.”
"City folk, particularly politicians, were intimidated by small arms. They preferred to kill people with more modern weapons, like poverty and despair."
It’s a good day to get punched.
Farewell, my friend. You incredible rusting man. Thank you.
With that, he stretched into another palace, into another time. He stretched into the wind. And also into the stars. And all endless things.
In the Roughs you depended on your gun, your instincts, and your ability to ask the right questions. Here he had to depend on others to do the right thing. And so far there had been no greater test of his faith in humanity—serial killers included—than working with politicians.
“You can’t do this for forgiveness. You need no forgiveness, not anymore.”
“So long as you know,” she whispered, “that you don’t have to be one or the other. You don’t have to see yourself as two men, Wax, with two different lives. Those men are the same person. And he’s the one I love.”
“I think,” she said, “that I am a servant of the people. That any power or authority I have comes from them. They are not served by darkness and lies, no matter how well intentioned.”
“What’s harder, love?” she asked. “Doing what’s right or doing what’s wrong?”
“Doing what’s right.”
“So who gets stronger?” Ma asked. “The fellow what does the easy thing, or what does the hard thing?”
He sat staring at the door for a long time. He wasn’t wearing a hat, which meant he had to just be himself. The true him, the one that knew this pain. They’d ridden together on many a dusty path. This pain had been his invisible friend since childhood. The pain of knowing what he really was. The pain of being worthless.
“You can’t convict me on a hunch,” Wayne said, folding his arms. “I know my rights. Marasi’s always quoting them to people once we finish beating them up. I get a trial by my peers, I do.”
“Yes,” Steris said, “but where would we find so many slugs on short notice?”
Wayne spun toward her, then—after just a brief pause—grinned widely. Those two were getting along better these days, which Wax enjoyed seeing.
“You’re like the lawman then.”
“Anyone can be,” she said, blowing out the lantern.
“Even me?”
“Especially you.” She kissed him on the forehead. “You are whatever you want to be, Wayne. You’re the wind. You’re the stars. You are all endless things.”