The Burning White (Lightbringer #5)

by Brent Weeks

“Crowd’s not that big. Oh, they’ve seen us,” Winsen said, now beside Cruxer. “Crux? How does a High Magister wave? Like so?” He waved a devil-may-care wave, and Kip could hear the crowd go mad with excitement. “‘Not that big’?” Kip said, suddenly rooted to the desk, papers forgotten. “Nor that small,” Tisis said. “How not small is ‘not small’?” Kip asked. “I dunno,” Winsen said. “Maybe twenty thousand?” “What?!” Kip shot to his feet. “He’s joking,” Tisis said. “Maybe a thousand?” “Nine hundred fifty-seven,” Ferkudi said. They all stopped. They looked at him. “You didn’t just count them all…” Winsen said. “Huh? Of course not,” Ferkudi said, as if Win was crazy. “I was guessing. Why does everyone else always guess round numbers? They’re not any more likely.” He suddenly looked troubled. “They aren’t more likely, are they?”