The Name of the Wind (The Kingkiller Chronicle, #1)

by Patrick Rothfuss

I waited a few more minutes just to be sure, then moved back into the street. The feeling of vague unease returned almost immediately. I ignored it while trying to find out where it was coming from. But after five minutes I lost my nerve and turned onto a side street, watching the crowd to see who was following me. No one. It took a nerve-wracking half hour and two more alleys before I finally figured out what it was. It felt strange to be walking with the crowd. Over the last couple years crowds had become a part of the scenery of the city to me. I might use a crowd to hide from a guard or a storekeeper. I might move through a crowd to get where I was going. I might even be going in the same direction as the crowd, but I was never a part of it. I was so used to being ignored, I almost ran from the first merchant who tried to sell me something. Once I knew what was bothering me, the greater part of my uneasiness left. Fear tends to come from ignorance. Once I knew what the problem was, it was just a problem, nothing to fear.