The Burning White (Lightbringer #5)

by Brent Weeks

“There’s a time to choose life, Conn, and you’re taking too damn long to make it,” Kip said. “You’re in a pit, so I’m throwing you a rope, but I ain’t gonna fuckin’ climb for you. You dyin’ today? It hurts me more than you. But if you choose to live, I want you to live for one reason—because you’re going to make yourself useful. You’re worried it hurts our traditions for me to let you live? Yes. It does. People will think you got preferential treatment? Yes, they will. Because you are. Not because I love you, but because I think you can do what others can’t for this people, this satrapy. I think you’ll be more help than harm. A lot more. If you climb out of this pit, you’re on the hook to prove me right. You’re on the hook to work every day to show you’re worth the third chance I’m giving you, and someday, when it’s your turn, when it’s wise, you’re on the hook to give that chance to someone else.” Kip blew out a breath in exasperation. “Look at your fucking shoulders, man. You were made to bear burdens. You are strong as fuck, and you’re not acting like it. So, if you want to stay and curl up and die? Then fuck you. You’ve already wasted too much of my time.” Kip turned away, but then paused. He pulled a knife from his belt and stared at Ruadhán, eye to eye. “It’d tear up the men to hang you,” Kip said. “So you want to die? Have the goddam decency to think of someone else a bit, would you?” Kip dropped the knife and the key, outside the cell. Ruadhán would have to strain ...