The Thief Who Wasn't There (Amra Thetys, #4)

by Michael McClung

“Keel, if you don’t start calling me Holgren I’m going to write it on a stick and beat you with it until you remember.”

“Apologies are wasted on banks, magus,” he said with a small smile, “as they do not fit in any ledger.

I have never claimed to be a good person. I’m not. But I do try not to be more monstrous than is necessary.

Amra had told me once that the difference between a good burglar and a dead burglar was, essentially, mental balance. The ability to ignore distractions such as fear, nervousness, anger, and get on with the job. To be able to retain the ability to think, analyze, and act without undue haste whatever the pressures at hand.

“Fine. Put succinctly, your position is fundamentally flawed and dangerously simplistic. First, every producer is also a consumer, or did you dine on air and sunlight this morning? Second, without the forces of death and decay, any system would eventually become a hell due to the demands of an infinitely expanding population and a finite set of resources. Third, any philosophy that takes as its core tenet an ‘us versus them’ proposition of any sort is doomed to become a totalitarian nightmare.

Superior grammar is no defense against chaos. There is probably a lesson to be learned from that, but I’ll be damned if I know what it might be.

She reminded me I was part of something much vaster than the contents of my own skull, and that it might actually be meaningful.

I am not overburdened with morals, but I have at least a general grasp of right and wrong, and torture is something that refuses to be chalked down on the light side of the slate however you try to justify it.

Those who do not shrink from dark deeds should at least be clear-eyed and honest, with themselves if no one else.

Call me paranoid, but people mysteriously appearing literally in the middle of nowhere without explanation made me suspicious, no matter how cute they were. Especially how cute they were.

don’t know what your definition of powerful is, Holgren, but I think you need to revisit it.” “I believe ‘revise’ is the word you’re looking for.” He squinted at me, and scratched his head. “Also, you should probably try to figure out whatever it is about you that makes people hate you so much, and then be less of that.”

They say what does not kill you makes you stronger. If only that were true. What does not kill you will likely leave you crippled if you are unlucky, and scarred if you are. Survival is the only reward you can hope for, and the only triumph that matters.