“You do.” Now she looked up. Her eyes were yellow slits, the color of old hatred. “Like a pig with a stone in its throat.”
He’d fallen twice already.
But he said it with a sliver of respect. In the Circle of the World, that was as close to love as you ever got. joe abercrombie the first law trilogy
“You’re staring,” she said, not looking up.
“So does snoring. And I don’t snore.” “You do
“I’m admiring,” said Logen. “There’s a difference.”
The fire was a spiteful, spitting thing, choked by a drizzle that wouldn’t decide if it was rain or just the world sweating. Across the flames, Ferro Maljinn sat sharpening her knife. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. The sound was the only rhythm in a world that had forgotten how to dance. But he said it with a sliver of respect
He had nine names for the dead. His dead. The ones he’d put in the ground with his own two hands—or with the help of the other bastard who lived inside him, the one who whispered still alive, still alive when the blood ran hot. He tried not to think about that one. Thinking gave it teeth.
“Better to do a thing,” he whispered to no one, “than to live with the fear of it.”