The Way of Shadows: The Night Angel Trilogy: Book 1

Brent Weeks

Language: English

Pages: 645

ISBN: 0316033677

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

For Durzo Blint, assassination is an art-and he is the city's most accomplished artist.

For Azoth, survival is precarious. Something you never take for granted. As a guild rat, he's grown up in the slums, and learned to judge people quickly - and to take risks. Risks like apprenticing himself to Durzo Blint.

But to be accepted, Azoth must turn his back on his old life and embrace a new identity and name. As Kylar Stern, he must learn to navigate the assassins' world of dangerous politics and strange magics - and cultivate a flair for death.

bulbous Ymmuri temple, complete with prayer flags. Slave money, he thought. It wasn’t slavery that appalled him. On his island, slavery was common. But not like it had been here. These manses had been built on pit fighters and baby farms. It had been out of his way, but he’d walked through the Warrens to see what the silent half of his new home city was like. The squalor there made the wealth here obscene. He was tired. Though not tall, he was thick. Thick through the stomach and, mercifully,

still thicker through the chest and shoulders. The nag was a good horse, but she was no warhorse, and he had to walk her as often as he rode. The large estates loomed ahead, differentiated from the others not so much by the size of the buildings as by the amount of land within the walls. Where the manses were packed side by side, the estates sprawled. Guards presided over gates of ironwood rather than intricate grillwork—gates built long ago for defense, not decoration. The gate of the first

get under the skin of every man to walk through my doors. If I know a man, I know how to please him. I know how to manipulate him so that he’ll try to buy my love and become competitive with the others trying to do the same thing, but not become jealous of them.” “A wetboy has to know his deaders like that,” Durzo said. “And you don’t think Azoth can do that?” “Oh no. I think he can,” Durzo said. “But after you know a man or a woman like that—after you wear their skin and walk a few miles in

tasted like dust. He stared into the market, not even seeing the fishmonger beating her husband. Jarl smiled, his teeth brilliant against his black Ladeshian skin. “If I tell you a secret can you keep it quiet?” Azoth looked from side to side and leaned in. The loud crunching of bread and smacking of lips beside him stopped him. “Well, I can. I’m not so sure about Doll Girl.” They both turned toward where she sat, gnawing on the heel of the loaf. The combination of the crumbs stuck to her face

groping in the public areas, and no commoners allowed. Momma K had found out about Kylar’s excursions long ago, of course. You couldn’t keep anything secret from Momma K. She’d argued with him about it, and still made her comments whenever she happened to be here, but once she’d found out that he wouldn’t stop coming, she’d made him swear that he come into the smoking club and watch from inside. If he was going to be stupid, she said, he might as well be safe. If he went outside, sooner or later

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