The absence of a dead man's hand in my pocket tied my insides into knots. The awkward weight of the steak knife that had somehow found its way into my boot at dinner rubbed at my ankle wrong, not like my dagger which I'd hardly noticed.

This was not how I preferred sneaking around, right out in the open like this.

I stuck to the shadows the best I could as I made my way down the stairs. My ears burned for any sound other than my thudding heartbeat. Sweat broke over ...