Among Thieves

Начало книги

Athel the Grinner wasn’t grinning. In fact, he didn’t look that good at all. A long night of torture will do that to a person.

I knelt beside him. He was naked, his arms lashed across the top of a barrel, the rest of him collapsed behind. I avoided looking at the bloody mess that had once been his hands and feet.

“Athel,” I said. Nothing. I slapped the smuggler lightly on his sweaty cheek. “Hey, Athel.” His eyelids fluttered once. I wove my fingers into his hair, took hold, and raised his head so he could see me. If any of the sympathy or pity I felt showed on my face, so be it. I don’t have to like what I do sometimes. I said his name again.

Athel’s eyes opened and began wandering around the shadowed room. I waited for him to notice me in the candlelight. He did.

“Drothe?” he said. His voice was slow and rusty as he spoke my name. I could tell he was having trouble focusing on me in the flickering light.

Читать дальше →