Alcatraz vs. the Shattered Lens

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Authors: Brandon Sanderson
Tags: Fantasy
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sword out of her hand.
    "O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!" I yelled, pointing.
    Kaz glanced toward us and nodded, grabbing a pink bear from Aydee and tossing it in our direction. It hit, blowing all of us backward. I hit the ground in a roll, but like before, the grenade didn't actually hurt any of us.
    That explosion was enough to get Bastille free from her grapplers, but her sword had been knocked far away. I scrambled to get it for her as she pulled her dagger free from her belt, facing down a Librarian.
    "Is this a dagger which I see before me?" the Librarian said, holding up a larger, much more imposing sword. He swung.
    Bastille just smiled, blocking his sword with her dagger, then stepping unexpectedly forward and kicking him in the crotch with a booted foot.
    "Get thee to a nunnery," she said as he squeaked and fell to the ground.
    Bastille hates it when people quote from the wrong play.
    I grabbed Bastille's sword, then dashed toward her, tossing it into her hands as I passed. "Neither a borrower nor a lender be: For loan oft loses both itself and friend."
    "Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks,” she said with an appreciative nod.
    I looked about for more enemies. Shockingly, most of the Librarians in this group were down.
    "Will you two help to hasten them?" Kaz yelled, running past us, Aydee at his side. "Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind!"
    I nodded in agreement, bolting toward the far side of the camp. Oddly, as we ran, we passed heaped-up piles of what appeared to be glass. Cups, mirrors, windows – all broken, many broken so badly that they were nearly unrecognizable. I didn’t have much energy to ponder on the oddity, though. Using the Bestower's Lenses had taken a lot out of me - my stomach hurt from being punched so often, and the Lenses had sapped away a lot of my strength.
    Fortunately, the Librarians were confused enough by the nighttime attack that we were able to run the rest of the distance without being stopped again. We burst out of the camp and ran up the hillside toward the glass-domed city above. Behind, Librarians shouted, some pointing at us. A rank of riflemen set up to shoot us down, but they made the mistake of pointing at not one but three Smedrys.
    Three of the riflemen got lost while trying to raise their guns, five miscounted and didn't put any bullets in their guns, and the rest of the weapons fell apart as their owners tried to use them.
    Sometimes it's good to have a Talent.
    Unfortunately, I hadn't considered how we were going to get into the city once we reached it. The glass dome ran all the way down to the ground, and although there appeared to be a place where hinges made a glass door, that was guarded by a group of Mokian soldiers. The stout, well-muscled men were bare-chested, their faces painted with black swirling lines and patterns like Maori war paint. They carried spears made from a black wood, and some of the spearheads were on fire.
    Despite the fearsome display, the soldiers themselves looked like they'd had a hard time of it in the fighting. Most of them wore bandages or slings, and they looked at me and my group with suspicion.
    "Our purpose may hold there!" one of the men said through a small slit in the glass. “Who comes here?” They didn't open the door for us.
    I stepped forward. “Sir, my good friend. I do commend me to you."
    Bastille stepped forward, showing her Crystin blade, the symbol of a Knight of Crystallia. "Swear by my sword,” she proclaimed.
    A Crystin seemed enough proof for the Mokians that we were good guys. They opened the small glass doorway, waving us in. we let Kaz and Aydee go first while I looked back at the camp. We'd done it! I puffed in fatigue, but smiled at our victory.
    Beside me, Bastille seemed less enthusiastic.
    "How is it that the clouds still hang on you?" I asked her.
    She shrugged, regarding the chaotic Librarian ranks, particularly the place where we'd been forced to fight. "My soul is full of

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