Shadow's Edge - Brent Weeks
You’re the wetboy.” The man cursed. He was sweating, his broad face pasty. His bushy black beard quivered as he trembled.
“Tell me,” Kylar said.
“The Shinga said he pissed off some Cenarian wetboy. We were supposed to kill you if you came here.”
“Where is he?”
“If I tell you, will you let me live?”
Kylar looked into the man’s eyes, and curiously didn’t feel or imagine—or whatever it had been the other times—the darkness that demanded death. “Yes,” he said, though the killing rage was still ...