by Sam Sykes
The hiding place in question was a narrow passage between two old, stone buildings to the west of his dwelling. Sometime far in the past, the entrance to the passage had been bricked up to make the two structures seem one. The only way to still reach it was from the roofs above, which was how Daryus had stumbled on it in the first place. He had not expected to have to slide into it, nor had he expected the skeletons with the telltale chips in their ribs indicating death by sword. Now, though, what had been an unfortunate chance discovery was proving to be of use.
For most people, the time needed to dispose of one body, let alone three, would have been measured in hours. Daryus managed to remove the first two in such quick order that he surprised himself. Only then did he realize just how well he had eased into his current life. His earlier existence suddenly seemed farther away than ever.
Gritting his teeth, Daryus returned for the last. Not once had he seen anyone on the street, but he doubted his luck would hold much longer. With growing impatience, Daryus returned to the scene of the struggle … and found no trace of the last corpse.
What he did find was a small and curious-looking animal sitting near where last he had seen the body. The long, sinewy mammal licked one of its forepaws, upon which Daryus noted small bits of dark moisture.
The brown-furred creature raised its head to look at him. Daryus had not seen many weasels in this region, but knew what they looked like. This one was average in size and slightly wide in the mouth. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it save that its left eye seemed injured and twisted shut.
Without warning, it scampered over to Daryus and started up his leg. Thrusting the dagger in his belt, the former crusader seized the vermin by the scruff of the neck and brought it to eye level.
The weasel wrinkled its nose, but otherwise didn’t react. It seemed perfectly at ease dangling several feet above the ground as it stared with the one eye at Daryus.
A quick survey of the area revealed no sign of either the intended victim or the last body. Daryus knew he had risked himself far too long for what he now felt was no good reason. Indeed, he began to wonder if perhaps he had been set up by someone intending either robbery or vengeance. Perhaps he had been the target all along.
Remaining wary, Daryus abandoned the area, taking what precautions he could to keep from being followed by anyone. If in fact he had been set up by a rival, or had simply become the object of some thieving gang’s attention, he didn’t want company joining him at home.
Not certain what else to do with the weasel, Daryus set it down and started off. He didn’t get far before realizing that the creature was following close.
Daryus waved it off, but the weasel continued to follow. Its lack of concern for the dead or missing assassins suggested it hadn’t been a pet of theirs. Yet if it had belonged to whoever had cried out—assuming there had actually been someone in the first place—Daryus wondered why the animal’s owner had left it behind.
Daryus’s abode was little more than a shack attached to the back of a warehouse. In the early days of the city, the shack had probably acted as the warehouse guard’s quarters. The warehouse had changed hands and functions over the generations, becoming now the front for a merchant of disreputable means. Daryus paid the man’s scarecrow of a daughter a month’s lodging at a time. He knew that they also saw him as an unpaid guard for their goods, for if something happened to the warehouse, then Daryus would lose his dwelling and the money he had paid out that month.
Other than a creaking oak bed with a blanket to act as mattress, the lone room had only two other pieces of furniture. The well-stained table and accompanying bench were where Daryus spent his time when not sleeping. A half-empty bottle of foul-tasting red wine that reminded Daryus of the swill he had once drank in faraway Sauerton sat atop the table, looking inviting despite his familiarity with its sharply acidic taste.
Just as he shut the door behind him, the weasel slipped through into the room.
“No you don’t!” He made a swipe for the sinewy creature, but the weasel twisted out of range. It darted to the bench, leapt atop, then made its way to the table and the waiting wine bottle.
Daryus pursued, only to pull up short as the weasel suddenly turned its one-eyed gaze back at him. The stare was so intense that the renegade crusader almost expected the animal to talk.
Which it did.
“You save Toy’s life!” it piped in the voice Daryus immediately recognized as the one calling for help. “You save Toy’s life, but now we must beware! They will seek to obey their master’s will! They will come again with more! We must leave this city!”
Daryus reached for his sword. “What are you?”
Toy impatiently shook its head, its single open eye never leaving Daryus. “No time to waste on foolish questions! Must act! Must act before he acts!”
“Who?”
The weasel hissed. It reared, revealing that it was definitely male. “An evil walking on two legs! An evil that will now come looking for both of us, Master … unless Toy and Master stop him first!”
And then, without warning, the weasel opened his other eye as well—an eye simultaneously of fire and ice, blood red and bone ivory.
A demon’s eye.
The Pathfinder Tales Library
Called to Darkness by Richard Lee Byers
Winter Witch by Elaine Cunningham
The Wizard’s Mask by Ed Greenwood
Prince of Wolves by Dave Gross
Master of Devils by Dave Gross
Queen of Thorns by Dave Gross
King of Chaos by Dave Gross
Lord of Runes by Dave Gross
Pirate’s Honor by Chris A. Jackson
Pirate’s Promise by Chris A. Jackson
Pirate’s Prophecy by Chris A. Jackson
Beyond the Pool of Stars by Howard Andrew Jones
Plague of Shadows by Howard Andrew Jones
Stalking the Beast by Howard Andrew Jones
Firesoul by Gary Kloster
Reaper’s Eye by Richard A. Knaak
The Worldwound Gambit by Robin D. Laws
Blood of the City by Robin D. Laws
Song of the Serpent by Hugh Matthews
Hellknight by Liane Merciel
Nightglass by Liane Merciel
Nightblade by Liane Merciel
City of the Fallen Sky by Tim Pratt
Liar’s Blade by Tim Pratt
Liar’s Island by Tim Pratt
Liar’s Bargain by Tim Pratt
Reign of Stars by Tim Pratt
Bloodbound by F. Wesley Schneider
The Crusader Road by Michael A. Stackpole
Death’s Heretic by James L. Sutter
The Redemption Engine by James L. Sutter
Shy Knives by Sam Sykes
Forge of Ashes by Josh Vogt
Skinwalkers by Wendy N. Wagner
Starspawn by Wendy N. Wagner
The Dagger of Trust by Chris Willrich
About the Author
Sam Sykes is the author of the fantasy novels The City Stained Red, The Mortal Tally, and An Affinity for Steel. For more information, visit samsykes.com or find him on Twitter at @SamSykesSwears.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Inner Sea Region
Taldor
1. Sociality and Shackles
2. Bathwater Deals
3. Cold Coffins for Rich Men
4. Digging with Our Hands
5. Well-Dressed Blades
6. Hoofbeats
7. Centaur Politics
8. Steel Whispers
9. Drinking Solution
10. Silk
-Collar Jobs
11. A Rogue’s Diplomacy
12. Perfumed Shadows
13. Scars Left by Thin Knives
14. Empty Bottles
15. Knocking at the Back Door
16. Bloodlines
17. The Father of Fiends
18. Safehouse
19. The Sound of Thunder
20. Skulkers
21. Back-Alley Lullabies
22. A Late Winter, A False Spring
23. Into the Maw
24. And Down the Gullet
25. Stains on the Carpet
Glossary
Excerpt from Pathfinder Tales: Reaper’s Eye
The Pathfinder Tales Library
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
PATHFINDER TALES: SHY KNIVES
Copyright © 2016 by Paizo Inc.
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First Edition: October 2016
eISBN 9780765384348
First eBook edition: October 2016