Whisper of Blade | ✓ (Crimson #1)

Chapter 37: The Firebird

Dusk would soon drape the city like a cloak.

Minerva sat on her heels, looking over the street leading to the Firebird. As the time for flower fire to bloom drew near, other festival-goers ascended to the roofs as she had. A fox mask covered her face and the sheen of bronzer lay over her skin.

Being in such close proximity to Phoenix Kin made her heart clench. They still had a price on her head. She could be playing into their hands.

She could not risk using the hollow place. Instead, her arsenal held her skill with the sword, fire, and a single orb of smoke. The first two would do little against the Phoenixes' might, so she only had one play to make.

By the flame, she prayed she wouldn't need to.

"Beautiful evening, isn't it?" A woman lowered herself to sit beside Minerva before taking a swig from the bottle in her hand. Numerous daggers filled the bandolier across her chest and a couple small braids kept the hair out of her face with the rest hanging loose behind her.

Minerva declined her offer of the bottle. "Night's only beautiful if I don't fall off the roof," she joked, lowering her voice a couple notches.

"Haven't seen you around before," the woman observed.

Eyes flicking to the gold ring on the woman's hand, Minerva forced her breathing to remain even. "Been out of the city for years," she answered. "But it seems the capital is the place to be these days. I've never been one to miss the action."

At that moment, she caught sight of Kodak. He mimicked the mood of the surrounding throng well, but even a stoop couldn't disguise his height. After a brief exchange, the Phoenix manning the entrance of the restaurant waved him in.

"Bloody right it's the place to be," Minerva's rooftop companion said. "You part of the Kin? If not, we're looking for people like you. Always room for those who want a taste of action."

"Not the Kin." Minerva tugged her sleeve back to reveal the silver ring on her left hand. As opposed to a phoenix feather, hers had a snake with ruby eyes etched into its surface.

The woman sized her up with a glance before inclining her head. "Sister."

"Enjoy the rest of your evening, sister." Minerva bowed in return and slid from the rooftop before she could be questioned further. Though the Phoenix Kin and Blood Shadows had an alliance, it didn't always stop their respective members from engaging in rivalries and holding grudges.

She didn't feel fully present as she strode over to the Firebird, as if she walked through the dark tunnels beneath the palace, not sure if she'd see the light again. Shika could call her a master of guises all she liked—Minerva knew the true experts to be Charna and Kaolin.

So she took her cues from them, keeping a straight, yet relaxed posture. She belonged here and had to believe it instead of only acting it.

When Minerva reached the doorway, she flashed her ring. She'd kept it as a talisman, a reminder of her lowest moments, the dark age of her life. The Blood Shadows had honed her to be a killer, an assassin, and she'd bought their ring and a place among them with countless lives. Even though they'd trained her, back then she'd always wondered if fate had marked her as a destroyer from the beginning—someone who could only take life and not give it.

Never again. Remember the past, but don't return to it.

The Phoenix guarding the entrance inspected her ring. "Take off your mask," he said.

Minerva complied. She looked him in the face, counted to three, then shifted her gaze to glance around the inside of the building.

"You're clear."