“Wax ain’t never saved the whole world. And most of the others in the octant constabulary? They couldn’t save a coupon for free beer, even when I gave it to them. Stupid kandra giraffe man. Wayne, the best conner in the whole damn world … Ha! Eat that, Reddi. Eat it with hot sauce and cry!”
Wayne felt something happening as he said it, though. A kind of … stretching feeling. Like he was being pulled somewhere. Somewhere … warm?
“Before you go,” Harmony said, “is there anything you would like to know? I’m not truly omniscient, but my knowledge far surpasses that of mortals. Some have a final question for me before they go. Have you such a request, Wayne?”
Huh. Any question? That was a hard one. He pondered a moment. “So,” he said, “before she left, MeLaan told me that I was the best lay she ever had, and I was wondering—”
“Wayne,” God interrupted, “what is it Ranette always says to you?”
“Try dodging this?”
“The other thing.”
“Don’t ruin the moment by bein’ all skeevy?”
“Yes, that one.”
“Right, right,” Wayne said, nodding. “Good point. Good point. You’re smart, maybe even as smart as Ranette. Suppose that makes sense and all.” He continued to think, though that stretching sensation … it was getting stronger. What could he ask? What …
Then he grinned. That was perfect.
“I’m gonna assume Wax and them will be fine,” Wayne said. “You already promised that. So I ain’t going to waste a question on them. And you can’t trick me into doing so. You’ll take care of them. I know you will.”
“To the best of my ability,” Harmony said.
“Good. Then tell me this, God,” Wayne said, pointing at him. “Was that the biggest damn explosion a person ever made?”
Harmony raised an eyebrow. “That’s your last question? Your final request of God before you pass into eternity?”
“Hell yes! Figure now that I’m dead, I’ll get the other answers right soon. You ain’t going to trick me into asking a useless question. So tell me. Was it?”
Harmony smiled. “Ah, Wayne. I suppose that most other things that could rival it — like the detonations of the Ashmounts — would be categorized as acts of God. Therefore, I declare that it is. Yes, Wayne. You exploded yourself in the biggest damn explosion a person has ever made in the history of our planet.”
“Make sure Steris knows,” Wayne said, grinning. “She’s always complainin’ about my exploding things. This time I saved her hide by doin’ it. Plus, I made the explosion smaller. That’s gonna break her brain. I made it smaller, and it was still the biggest one what ever was.”
He felt himself really going now. So, he held out a hand to God. Who, smiling, shook it.
“I knew you’d glow,” Wayne said, with a wink.
With that, Wayne stretched into another place, into another time. He stretched into the wind. And into the stars.
And all endless things.
EPILOGUES
MARASI
TEN HOURS AFTER DETONATION
Somehow, the sun was already rising again when Marasi stumbled off the train in Elendel. She might have expected the train to be empty, considering the disasters — both prevented and diminished — that had marked the night.
Yet the train was packed. Some traveling to aid those in the waterlogged and broken northwestern quarter of Elendel. Others coming to check on family. Others returning home from the evacuation to seek a place of comfort in this strange time.
She let them swarm around her as she stood on the train platform, feeling disjointed. Out of place. Part of that was fatigue. She’d had perhaps two hours’ sleep back in Bilming, after coordinating with Constable Blantach, who had finally accepted the evidence of Entrone’s malfeasance. The testimonies of the people who Marasi and the others had saved — especially the journalists and politicians who TwinSoul had escorted out — would prove vital.
It felt wrong to leave the lord mayor and his remaining accomplices in the hands of a constabulary department that had up until recently answered to him. But honestly, Marasi wasn’t certain what else she could do. An Elendel invasion of Bilming wasn’t feasible, considering the disasters and the political situation. She simply had to hope that the testimonies, the explosion, and the overwhelming physical evidence would be enough to force the Bilming constables to do their jobs.
At the least, it seemed that Wax and Wayne had left the Set’s organizational structure — and military forces — in shambles. They’d found Telsin dead on the top of the Shaw. Written, by her own fingernail, on the strangely grey skin of her arm had been the words:
You have proven yourselves. For now.
The way her god had left her was eerily reminiscent of how the Ascendant Warrior and the Last Emperor had been discovered at the end of the Catacendre. Strangely peaceful, and …
And rusts, Marasi was zoning out. Standing there as confused as a Roughs bumpkin her first time in the city. She forced herself to start walking, moving with the last straggling passengers to leave the train. She needed a bath. She needed something to eat. And she needed …
A frantic masked figure burst from the crowd ahead, having fought his way against the flow of traffic. She wasn’t certain how he’d talked his way through the ticket gate, but Marasi finally let herself feel a measure of comfort as Allik crashed into her with a powerful embrace.
This, she thought as he held her tight, was what it was for. This and a million other people. But to her … it had been for this most of all.
Allik pulled back and raised his mask. He’d been crying.
“It’s all right,” Marasi said, wiping his tears away. “Allik, I’m fine. I promise. I thought you were outside the city?”
“I returned early,” he said. “And these tears aren’t for you, love. We tried to get word to you, but … it was chaotic, and the lines were busy…”
Her world started to crack. “Who?” she whispered.
“Wayne,” he said.
No. It was impossible.
Wayne was practically immortal. He was like … like a rock. The kind you got in your shoe and couldn’t get rid of.
No … no, he was the kind you leaned against. When you needed something stable. He …
He was her partner.
She knew their job was dangerous. She knew they risked their lives each day. Still, she’d always assumed she would be the one who … who …
“Wax?” she choked out.
“Fine,” Allik said. “Well, all but one leg, yah? But he will heal up.” He winced. “He says … Wayne stayed behind. Detonated the bomb. To save the city…”
She grabbed him then, because that break in his voice matched the one she felt inside her, and she needed to hold to something. As they embraced, she felt grief welling up to destroy her.
She … she wouldn’t accept it. She wouldn’t believe he was gone. He’d … he’d survived worse than this. She would come home one day and he’d be sitting in her kitchen helping himself to the chocolate.
And if that never happened?
I can’t deal with that right now, she thought. Not on two hours of sleep.
She let the delusion linger. So it could erode, like a stone in the waves, over time.
Allik took her by the shoulders. “You,” he declared, “look like you are in need of copious amounts of baked goods. Delivered with an urgency rivaling that of a warleader in battle. Yah?”