Free Last Argument Of Kings by Joe Abercrombie Page A

mountain of naked stone. There was a brutal honesty in its shape. A merciless precision in its sharp, black angles. Something about it fascinated her.
    'What is that place?' she asked.
    Bayaz narrowed his eyes at her. 'The House of the Maker.'
    'What is inside?'
    'None of your business.'
    Ferro almost spat with annoyance. 'You lived there. You served Kanedias. You helped the Maker with his works. You told us all this, out on the plains. So tell me, what is inside?'
    'You have a sharp memory, Ferro, but you forget one thing. We did not find the Seed. I do not need you. I do not need, in particular, to answer your endless questions any longer. Imagine my dismay.' He sucked primly at his tea again, raising his brows and peering out at the lazy pinks in the park.
    Ferro forced a smile onto her own face. Or as close as she could get to a smile. She bared her teeth, at least. She remembered well enough what the bitter old woman Cawneil had said, and how much it had annoyed him. She would do the same. 'The Maker. You tried to steal his secrets. You tried to steal his daughter. Tolomei was her name. Her father threw her from the roof. In return for her betrayal, in opening his gates to you. Am I wrong?'
    Bayaz angrily flicked the last drops from his cup over the balcony. Ferro watched them glitter in the bright sun, tumbling downwards. 'Yes, Ferro, the Maker threw his daughter from the roof. It would seem that we are both unlucky in love, eh? Bad luck for us. Worse luck for our lovers. Who would have dreamed we have so much in common?' Ferro wondered about shoving the pink bastard off the balcony after his tea. But he still owed her, and she meant to collect. So she only scowled, and ducked back through the doorway.
    There was a new arrival in the room. A man with curly hair and a wide smile. He had a tall staff in his hand, a case of weathered leather over one shoulder. There was something strange about his eyes— one light, one dark. There was something about his watchful gaze that made Ferro suspicious. Even more than usual.
    'Ah, the famous Ferro Maljinn. Forgive my curiosity, but it is not every day that one encounters a person of your… remarkable ancestry.'
    Ferro did not like that he knew her name, or her ancestry, or anything about her. 'Who are you?'
    'Where are my manners? I am Yoru Sulfur, of the order of Magi,' and he offered his hand. She did not take it but he only smiled. 'Not one of the original twelve, of course, not I. Merely an afterthought. A late addition. I was once apprentice to great Bayaz.'
    Ferro snorted. That hardly qualified him for trust in her estimation. 'What happened?'
    'I graduated.'
    Bayaz tossed his cup down rattling on a table by the window. 'Yoru,' he said, and the newcomer humbly bowed his head. 'My thanks for your work thus far. Precise and to the point, as always.'
    Sulfur's smile grew broader. 'A small cog in a large machine, Master Bayaz, but I try to be a sturdy one.'
    'You have yet to let me down. I do not forget that. How is your next little game progressing?'
    'Ready to begin, at your command.'
    'Let us begin now. There is nothing to be gained by delay.'
    'I shall make the preparations. I have also brought this, as you asked.' He swung the bag down from his shoulder and gingerly reached inside. He slowly drew out a book. Large and black, its heavy covers hacked, and scarred, and charred by fire. 'Glustrod's book,' he murmured softly, as though afraid to say the words.
    Bayaz frowned. 'Keep it, for now. There was an unexpected complication.'
    'A complication?' Sulfur slid the book back into its case with some relief.
    'What we sought… was not there.'
    'Then—'
    'As regards our other plans, nothing is changed.'
    'Of course.' Sulfur bowed his head again. 'Lord Isher will already be on his way.'
    'Very well.' Bayaz glanced over at Ferro, as though he had only just remembered that she was there. 'For the time being, perhaps you would be good enough to give us the room? I have a visitor