Nice Kerrick was scarier than Mean Kerrick.

No. I took this job in self-defense. Quain burns everything. Belen thinks jerky is all we need to survive. Flea's idea of a good meal is something that hasn't been in a garbage can first. And Kerrick poisoned us-' 'Not on purpose,' Kerrick said. 'The meat looked done.

His movements were so graceful that I wondered if he had been a dancer, but his words betrayed to me that his fluid gestures were those of a trained killer.

The heart is a strange beast and not ruled by logic.

“Run,” he whispered. “Run.” “No, Rand,” I said, brushing the dirt from his face. “I’m tired of running.” “Forgive me, please.” He clutched my hand as his eyes beseeched me through tears of pain. “You’re forgiven.” He sighed once, then stopped breathing. The shine in his brown eyes dulled. I pulled his hood over his head.

Nothing says you care for me better than offering to torture my enemies." He grinned. "No sense doing things halfhearted. And to think, some girls have to endure listening to poetry.

Trella! You’re here,” he said with glee. “Even though I’m not as smart as you, I do know where I am.