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The Alloy of Law: A Mistborn Novel, by Brandon Sanderson
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From #1 New York Times bestselling author Brandon Sanderson, the Mistborn series is a heist story of political intrigue and magical, martial-arts action.
Three hundred years after the events of the Mistborn trilogy, Scadrial is now on the verge of modernity, with railroads to supplement the canals, electric lighting in the streets and the homes of the wealthy, and the first steel-framed skyscrapers racing for the clouds.
Kelsier, Vin, Elend, Sazed, Spook, and the rest are now part of history―or religion. Yet even as science and technology are reaching new heights, the old magics of Allomancy and Feruchemy continue to play a role in this reborn world. Out in the frontier lands known as the Roughs, they are crucial tools for the brave men and women attempting to establish order and justice.
One such is Waxillium Ladrian, a rare Twinborn, who can Push on metals with his Allomancy and use Feruchemy to become lighter or heavier at will. After twenty years in the Roughs, Wax has been forced by family tragedy to return to the metropolis of Elendel. Now he must reluctantly put away his guns and assume the duties and dignity incumbent upon the head of a noble house. Or so he thinks, until he learns the hard way that the mansions and elegant tree-lined streets of the city can be even more dangerous than the dusty plains of the Roughs.
Other Tor books by Brandon Sanderson
The Cosmere
The Stormlight Archive
The Way of Kings
Words of Radiance
Edgedancer (Novella)
Oathbringer (forthcoming)
The Mistborn trilogy
Mistborn: The Final Empire
The Well of Ascension
The Hero of Ages
Mistborn: The Wax and Wayne series
Alloy of Law
Shadows of Self
Bands of Mourning
Collection
Arcanum Unbounded
Other Cosmere novels
Elantris
Warbreaker
The Alcatraz vs. the Evil Librarians series
Alcatraz vs. the Evil Librarians
The Scrivener's Bones
The Knights of Crystallia
The Shattered Lens
The Dark Talent
The Rithmatist series
The Rithmatist
Other books by Brandon Sanderson
The Reckoners
Steelheart
Firefight
Calamity
- Sales Rank: #51703 in Books
- Published on: 2011-11-08
- Released on: 2011-11-08
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: .38" h x 1.21" w x 6.37" l, 1.20 pounds
- Binding: Hardcover
- 332 pages
Review
“ [The Hero of Ages] brings the Mistborn epic fantasy trilogy to a dramatic and surprising climax…. Sanderson's saga of consequences offers complex characters and a compelling plot, asking hard questions about loyalty, faith, and responsibility.” ―Publishers Weekly on the Mistborn series and Brandon Sanderson
“Sanderson is an evil genius. There is simply no other way to describe what he's managed to pull off in this transcendent final volume of his Mistborn trilogy.” ―RT Book Reviews (Gold Medal, Top Pick!) on The Hero of Ages
“It's rare for a fiction writer to have much understanding of how leadership works and how love really takes root in the human heart. Sanderson is astonishingly wise.” ―Orson Scott Card
About the Author
Brandon Sanderson grew up in Lincoln, Nebraska. He lives in Utah with his wife and children and teaches creative writing at Brigham Young University. He is the author of such bestsellers as the Mistborn® trilogy and its sequels, The Alloy of Law, Shadows of Self, and The Bands of Mourning; the Stormlight Archive novels The Way of Kings and Words of Radiance; and other novels, including The Rithmatist and Steelheart. In 2013, he won a Hugo Award for Best Novella for The Emperor's Soul, set in the world of his acclaimed first novel, Elantris. Additionally, he was chosen to complete Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time® sequence. For behind-the-scenes information on all of Brandon Sanderson's books, visit brandonsanderson.com.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
1
Five months later, Wax walked through the decorated rooms of a large, lively party, passing men in dark suits with tailcoats and women in colorful dresses with narrow waists and lots of folds through long pleated skirts. They called him “Lord Waxillium” or “Lord Ladrian” when they spoke to him.
He nodded to each, but avoided being drawn into conversation. He deliberately made his way to one of the back rooms of the party, where dazzling electric lights—the talk of the city—produced a steady, too-even light to ward off the evening’s gloom. Outside the windows, he could see mist tickling the glass.
Defying decorum, Wax pushed his way through the room’s enormous glass double doors and stepped out onto the mansion’s grand balcony. There, finally, he felt like he could breathe again.
He closed his eyes, taking the air in and out, feeling the faint wetness of the mists on the skin of his face. Buildings are so … suffocating here in the city, he thought. Have I simply forgotten about that, or did I not notice it when I was younger?
He opened his eyes, and rested his hands on the balcony railing to look out over Elendel. It was the grandest city in all the world, a metropolis designed by Harmony himself. The place of Wax’s youth. A place that hadn’t been his home for twenty years.
Though it had been five months since Lessie’s death, he could still hear the gunshot, see the blood sprayed on the bricks. He had left the Roughs, moved back to the city, answering the desperate summons to do his duty to his house at his uncle’s passing.
Five months and a world away, and he could still hear that gunshot. Crisp, clean, like the sky cracking.
Behind him, he could hear musical laughter coming from the warmth of the room. Cett Mansion was a grand place, full of expensive woods, soft carpets, and sparkling chandeliers. No one joined him on the balcony.
From this vantage, he had a perfect view of the lights down Demoux Promenade. A double row of bright electric lamps with a steady, blazing whiteness. They glowed like bubbles along the wide boulevard, which was flanked by the even wider canal, the still and quiet waters reflecting the light. An evening railway engine called a greeting as it chugged through the distant center of the city, hemming the mists with darker smoke.
Down Demoux Promenade, Wax had a good view of both the Ironspine Building and Tekiel Tower, one on either side of the canal. Both were unfinished, but their steelwork lattices already rose high into the sky. Mind-numbingly high.
The architects continued to release updated reports of how high they intended to go, each one trying to outdo the other. Rumors he’d heard at this very party, credible ones, claimed that both would eventually top out at over fifty stories. Nobody knew which would end up proving the taller, though friendly wagers were common.
Wax breathed in the mists. Out in the Roughs, Cett Mansion—which was three stories high—would have been as tall as a building got. Here, it felt dwarfed. The world had gone and changed on him during his years out of the city. It had grown up, inventing lights that needed no fire to glow and buildings that threatened to rise higher than the mists themselves. Looking down that wide street at the edge of the Fifth Octant, Wax suddenly felt very, very old.
“Lord Waxillium?” a voice asked from behind.
He turned to find an older woman, Lady Aving Cett, peeking out the door at him. Her gray hair was up in a bun and she wore rubies at her neck. “By Harmony, my good man. You’ll take a chill out here! Come, there are some people you will wish to meet.”
“I’ll be along presently, my lady,” Wax said. “I’m just getting a little air.”
Lady Cett frowned, but retreated. She didn’t know what to make of him; none of them did. Some saw him as a mysterious scion of the Ladrian family, associated with strange stories of the realms beyond the mountains. The rest assumed him to be an uncultured, rural buffoon. He figured he was probably both.
He’d been on show all night. He was supposed to be looking for a wife, and pretty much everyone knew it. House Ladrian was insolvent following his uncle’s imprudent management, and the easiest path to solvency was marriage. Unfortunately, his uncle had also managed to offend three-quarters of the city’s upper crust.
Wax leaned forward on the balcony, the Sterrion revolvers under his arms jabbing his sides. With their long barrels, they weren’t meant to be carried in underarm holsters. They had been awkward all night.
He should be getting back to the party to chat and try to repair House Ladrian’s reputation. But the thought of that crowded room, so hot, so close, sweltering, making it difficult to breathe.…
Giving himself no time to reconsider, he swung off over the side of the balcony and began falling three stories toward the ground. He burned steel, then dropped a spent bullet casing slightly behind himself and Pushed against it; his weight sent it speeding down to the earth faster than he fell. As always, thanks to his Feruchemy, he was lighter than he should have been. He hardly knew anymore what it felt like to go around at his full weight.
When the casing hit the ground, he Pushed against it and sent himself horizontally in a leap over the garden wall. With one hand on its stone top, he vaulted out of the garden, then reduced his weight to a fraction of normal as he fell down the other side. He landed softly.
Ah, good, he thought, crouching down and peering through the mists. The coachmen’s yard. The vehicles everyone had used to get there were arranged here in neat rows, the coachmen themselves chatting in a few cozy rooms that spilled orange light into the mists. No electric lights here; just good, warmth-giving hearths.
He walked among the carriages until he found his own, then opened the trunk strapped to the back.
Off came his gentleman’s fine dinner coat. Instead he threw on his mistcoat, a long, enveloping garment like a duster with a thick collar and cuffed sleeves. He slipped a shotgun into its pocket on the inside, then buckled on his gun belt and moved the Sterrions into the holsters at his hips.
Ah, he thought. Much better. He really needed to stop carrying the Sterrions and get some more practical weapons for concealment. Unfortunately, he’d never found anything as good as Ranette’s work. Hadn’t she moved to the city, though? Perhaps he could look her up and talk her into making him something. Assuming she didn’t shoot him on sight.
A few moments later, he was running through the city, the mistcoat light upon his back. He left it open at the front, revealing his black shirt and gentleman’s trousers. The ankle-length mistcoat had been divided into strips from just above the waist, the tassels streaming behind him with a faint rustle.
He dropped a bullet casing and launched himself high into the air, landing atop the building across the street from the mansion. He glanced back at it, the windows ablaze in the evening dark. What kind of rumors was he going to start, vanishing from the balcony like that?
Well, they already knew he was Twinborn—that was a matter of public record. His disappearance wasn’t going to do much to help patch his family’s reputation. For the moment, he didn’t care. He’d spent almost every evening since his return to the city at one social function or another, and they hadn’t had a misty night in weeks.
He needed the mists. This was who he was.
Wax dashed across the rooftop and leaped off, moving toward Demoux Promenade. Just before hitting the ground, he flipped a spent casing down and Pushed on it, slowing his descent. He landed in a patch of decorative shrubs that caught his coat tassels and made a rustling noise.
Damn. Nobody planted decorative shrubs out in the Roughs. He pulled himself free, wincing at the noise. A few weeks in the city, and he was already getting rusty?
He shook his head and Pushed himself into the air again, moving out over the wide boulevard and parallel canal. He angled his flight so he crested that and landed on one of the new electric lamps. There was one nice thing about a modern city like this; it had a lot of metal.
He smiled, then flared his steel and Pushed off the top of the streetlamp, sending himself in a wide arc through the air. Mist streamed past him, swirling as the wind rushed against his face. It was thrilling. A man never truly felt free until he’d thrown off gravity’s chains and sought the sky.
As he crested his arc, he Pushed against another streetlight, throwing himself farther forward. The long row of metal poles was like his own personal railway line. He bounded onward, his antics drawing attention from those in passing carriages, both horse-drawn and horseless.
He smiled. Coinshots like himself were relatively rare, but Elendel was a major city with an enormous population. He wouldn’t be the first man these people had seen bounding by metal through the city. Coinshots often acted as high-speed couriers in Elendel.
The city’s size still astonished him. Millions lived here, maybe as many as five million. Nobody had a sure count across all of its wards—they were called octants, and as one might expect, there were eight of them.
Millions; he couldn’t picture that, though he’d grown up here. Before he’d left Weathering, he’d been starting to think it was getting too big, but there couldn’t have been ten thousand people in the town.
He landed atop a lamp directly in front of the massive Ironspine Building. He craned his neck, looking up through the mists at the towering structure. The unfinished top was lost in the darkness. Could he climb something so high? He couldn’t Pull on metals, onl...
Most helpful customer reviews
4 of 4 people found the following review helpful.
The Mistborn series back to full strength
By CrescAnArchAngel
The Alloy of Law resumes the Mistborn series about 300 years after the Hero of Ages and is the best book in the series since the first, The Final Empire. While the prose became heavier and the pace bogged down in The Well of Ascension and Hero of Ages, The Alloy of Law returns to the freshness that the seminal novel was, and gives the reader a page-turning read in a steampunk fantasy world. I blew through it in three evenings during a work week because I couldn't put it down, and I didn't regret it. I've already read the next book, Shadows of Self, and Sanderson continues in stride. You won't regret picking up the book if you're a Mistborn fan, and if you're new to the Mistborn books, this is an easy place to jump in--reading the earlier trilogy would by insightful, but is not necessary.
5 of 5 people found the following review helpful.
Fun, yet lacking.
By B. Elsbernd
Brandon Sanderson can (generally) do no wrong. However, and very much unfortunately, this is one of those "generally" times. This book was originally envisioned as a novella and it gradually expanded into a short novel, and it shows. It feels rushed and lacking at times--the characters, while enjoyable at times, come across as awkward and their interactions forced; the world, which was so well realized in the original trilogy, is in desperate need of fleshing out (this takes place several hundred years after the events of the previous book, so a lot has obviously happened); and the secondary characters are barely noticeable. All in all, it feels like a second draft rather than complete novel, even--and I'm sorry for saying this, Mr. Sanderson--amateurish. Wax, the main hero, is fairly bland, and the love triangle between him, Steris, and Marasi does nothing for me. Marasi serves more as a plot device than an actual character--until the very end, that is. Thoughout the book she's just basically tagging along, acting as a love interest for Wax, but, at in the very end, her character comes alive. Again, all of is could have been prevented with a little more polishing because, just basing the few pages where she shines, Marasi could have been amazing.
I get the feeling that Sanderson was rushed to publish this, or was overworked at the time and didn't give it the proper time it needed to make the Alloy of Law on level with the original trilogy--this came out as Sanderson was in the process of completing the Wheel of Time series, so I'm assuming this is he main culprit. It's dissipointing, really, considering this book had just so much potential to be something amazing; its a classic case of what could have been, rather than what was.
With all that being said, this is not necessarily a bad book, it's actually rather fun, and that's why it's getting three stars rather than two. The action pieces are a blast, the antagonist is appropriately menacing, there's a nice twist at the end, the plot moves along nicely, and Wayne is one of the best characters Sanderson has ever written. It was just announced that the sequels will be coming out later next year and, hopefully, we'll get to see Wax, Wayne, and Marasi fully portrayed to their full potential.
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
Strong standalone novel, but doesn't fit in
By Kenneth Chan
The Alloy of Law is an amazing book. The characters develop, the plot is very suspenseful, and overall, it will be hard to stop reading.
The book features a strong plot line and characters, and ties in to the first Mistborn books. It serves as a good bridge between the Mistborn novels and the Wax and Wayne novels. However, the characters in the first trilogy are not present in this book, now historical heroes.
This book is technically a standalone novel, but it's more like a prelude to the Wax and Wayne trilogy. The book is good, but shorter than the other novels that Brandon Sanderson usually writes. It's strange to be a book that can act as a separate novel but also seems to bridge between the Mistborn and Wax and Wayne trilogies. It's a very good book, but it just doesn't fit in. However, if you really enjoyed the Mistborn trilogy, The Alloy of Law is a very good novel, especially if you want to get into the "spin-off" trilogy of the Mistborn series, the Wax and Wayne trilogy.
*Notes: Make sure you read the Mistborn trilogy books first, otherwise this book will probably not make any sense whatsoever.
This book contains a lot of blood and gore, as well as some swear words, so this book is definitely not for elementary schoolers (unless you have a very strong stomach).
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