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Two things stood between me and a good night’s sleep, and I was allowed to kill only one of them.
Ah, but it was never the brave who escaped.
They communicated in that strange, silent way of people who were bound together by something thicker than blood and stronger than a shared upbringing.
What I remembered of my childhood in Jasad wouldn’t fill a poor man’s pocket, but I knew we were a night people.
Teamwork, however, was a necessary evil to see this night through.
“Is she trying to protect or insult us?” Sefa asked Marek. “I can never tell.”
More than age or maturity, the ability to trust remained the greatest relic of youth.
His expression was a study in civility. He might have been inviting me to tea instead of accusing me of trespassing.
If someone’s sword ever brought this man to his knees, they would never bring him low. His power did not come from magic or status, but from an unassailable sense of self.
