Alcatraz versus the Scrivener's Bones by Brandon Sanderson Read Free Book Online Page B

and she’s got some plates of it on the bottom of her boots.”
    “Do we have any more?”
    Bastille paused, then – without questioning me – she rushed over to a side of the cockpit, searching through a glass trunk on the floor. She came up a few moments later with a pair of boots.
    “These will do the same thing,” she said, handing them to me. They looked far too large for my feet.
    The ship rocked as Australia dodged another missile. I didn’t know how many of those the jet had, but it seemed like it could carry far more than it should be able to. I slumped back against the wall as the Dragonaut shook, then I pulled the first boot on over my own shoe and tied the laces tight.
    “What are you doing?” Bastille asked. “You’re not planning to go up there, are you?”
    I pulled on the other boot. My heart was beginning to beat faster.
    “What do you expect to do, Alcatraz?” Bastille asked quietly. “My mother is a full Knight of Crystallia. What help could you possibly be to her?”
    I hesitated, and Bastille flushed slightly at how harsh the words had sounded, though it wasn’t really in her nature to retract things like that. Besides, she was right.
    What was I thinking?
    Kaz moved over to us. “This is bad, Bastille.”
    “Oh, you finally noticed that, did you?” she snapped.
    “Don’t get touchy,” he said. “I may like a good ride, but I hate sudden stops as much as the next Smedry. We need an escape plan.”
    Bastille fell silent for a moment. “How many of us can you use your Talent to transport?”
    “Up here, in the sky?” he asked. “Without any place to flee? I’m not sure, honestly. I doubt I’d be able to get all of us.”
    “Take Alcatraz,” Bastille said. “Go now.”
    My stomach twisted. “No,” I said, standing. My feet immediately locked on to the glass floor of the cockpit. When I tried to take a step, however, my foot came free. When I put it down again, it locked into place.
    Nice, I thought, trying not to focus on what I was about to do.
    “Chestnuts, kid!” Kaz swore. “You might not be the brightest torch in the row, but I don’t want to see you get killed. I owe your father that much. Come with me – we’ll get lost, then head to Nalhalla.”
    “And leave the others to die?”
    “We’ll be just fine,” Bastille said quickly. Too quickly.
    The thing is, I paused. It may not seem very heroic, but a large part of me wanted to go with Kaz. My hands were sweating, my heart thumping. The ship rocked as another missile nearly hit us. I saw a spiderweb of cracks appear on the right side of the cockpit.
    I could run. Escape. Nobody would blame me. I wanted so badly to do just that.
    I didn’t. This might look like bravery, but I assure you that I’m a coward at heart. I’ll prove that at another time. For now, simply believe that it wasn’t bravery that spurred me on, it was pride.
    I was the Oculator. Australia had said I was their main weapon. I determined to see what I could do. “I’m going up,” I said. “How do I get there?”
    “Hatch on the ceiling,” Bastille finally said. “In the same room where you came up on the rope. Come on, I’ll show you.”
    Kaz caught her arm as she moved. “Bastille, you’re actually going to let him do this?”
    She shrugged. “If he wants to get himself killed, what business is it of mine? It just means one less person we have to worry about saving.”
    I smiled wanly. I knew Bastille well enough to hear the concern in her voice. She was actually worried about me. Or, perhaps, just angry at me. With her, the difference is difficult to judge.
    She took off down the corridor, and I followed, quickly getting the rhythm of walking with the boots. As soon as they touched glass, they locked on, making me stable – something I appreciated when the ship rocked from anther blast. I moved a little more slowly than normal in them, but they were worth it.
    I caught up to Bastille in the room, and she threw a lever, opening