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316 pages, Hardcover
First published March 5, 2010
✔Everyone showed up.
✔No, really. Every single lead.




"Then I walked to my bed and sat, making a show of careless bravado by crossing my legs and slumping as if I had not a worry in the world. In other words, I gave my best imitation of Eugenides."
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All my life they had made choices for me, and I had resented it. Now the choice was mine, and once it was made, I would have no right to blame anyone else for the consequences. Loss of that privilege, to blame others, unexpectedly stung
”A lamb, they said. No more trouble than snatching up a little lamb.”
Eddis did not say what she was thinking: that Sophos held Gen’s heart in his hand, that he was one of very few people who could destroy the king of Attolia, and that Attolia knew it.
When we were adventuring after Hamiathes's Gift, I had watched the magus beat Eugenides. We'd thought he was no more than a common thief named Gen from Sounis's gutters, and had listened to him whine and complain for days. When food was missing, it was easy to blame him. The magus used a riding crop on his back, and holy sacrificial lambs, Gen had come up off the ground like he'd been catapulted. It was as if he was a different person, some stranger who'd manifested in Gen's body. He'd dumped Pol flat onto his back--something I never thought I'd see--and gone for the magus. If Pol hadn't been up again so quickly, the magus was ready to run and dignity be damned. Even with Pol between him and Gen, the magus had been wary.
I thought later that this was the real Gen revealed, the person who'd been hiding behind a screen of complaints and needling humor. But I spent whole days with Eugenides after our adventures, and that Eugenides was exactly the Gen I had traveled with. Maybe I don't know which Gen is real. But I know there was nothing feigned about his emotions after he had been beaten.
Where, I wondered, was my wounded pride? Where was my outrage? My self-respect? Nowhere, it seemed. My back hurt. I lay there on my pallet, hoping it would improve soon and wondering, in a distant, unreproachful sort of way, if I was any kind of man at all and decided that I probably wasn't.
“How less?”
“A slave in the fields of Hanaktos, and now, not much better. I am a king with no country. Would you have that?”
Eddis seemed to consider. “Yes.”
