The Liar's Key (The Red Queen's War, #2)

by Mark Lawrence

Winter in Trond had been a long cold thing. I may have spent more time than was reasonable in the furs but in truth most of the north does the same. The night can last twenty hours and even when the day finally breaks it never gets above a level of cold I call “fuck that”—as in you open the door, your face freezes instantly to the point where it hurts to speak, but manfully you manage to say “fuck that,” before turning round, and going back to bed.

I’m not comfortable with uncomfortable truths. I prefer to round off the edges and corners until I have something worth keeping.

“Here.” I held out a silver crown between two fingers to take his mind off it. “You can have this coin, or you can have the most valuable piece of advice I own, something a wise man once told me and I’ve never shared.” Snorri looked around at that, taking in the two of us with a raised eyebrow. “Well?” I asked. Hennan furrowed his brow, staring at the coin, then at me, then at the coin. “I’ll . . .” He reached out, then pulled his hand back. “I’ll . . . the advice.” He blurted it out as if the words pained him. I nodded sagely. “Always take the money.” Hennan looked at me uncomprehending as I stood, pocketing the coin and pulling my blanket tight. Snorri snorted. “Wait . . . what?” Hennan’s confusion giving way to anger. Snorri led the way and I followed. “Always take the money, kid. Bankable advice, that.”