A Song of Ash and Smoke

Chapter One

There was someone in Ember's room. She could hear the gentle creak of the inn's old floorboards and almost inaudible breathing. Her magic leapt in answer and she fought to regain control of it. She would not let it get her killed here.

Neo's weight pressed reassuringly against her middle and she reached down to pat his scruffy head. She felt him awaken in response. Good.

Ember slid her hand under the pillow and felt cold, hard steel. She couldn't remember the last time she hadn't slept with her long, wicked dagger under her pillow. It had never failed her. Her small throwing knives lay on the bedside table, and she cursed herself for not wearing them on her person. She loved what she could do with them.

But she could throw Reaper as well—albeit with slightly less frightening accuracy—and had no qualms about it. Neo growled softly, and Ember tapped his head gently to silence him. She didn't need whoever it was knowing she was awake.

Ember heard the person inhale sharply and she whirled around, so she was on her feet, and with a flick of her wrist Reaper was embedded in the wood beside the stranger's head. She palmed her throwing knives and heard the stranger chuckle quietly.

You missed, a voice whispered in her head. Whoops. The stranger was Gifted, a Mindspeaker. It changed everything and nothing. For a moment she wondered what a Gifted would want with her but jumped slightly when she noticed a blade shining in the stranger's hand.

"Jumpy, aren't we?" the stranger sneered. Ember knew instantly it was a man, the voice was too deep to be female. Ember leered at him.

"If you do that again, you might find one of these embedded in your skull." He chuckled again and Ember had to fight to ensure the knives remained in her hands. Terrifying, he said in her mind. She couldn't imagine how much better he would look if his face was decorated with a bit of blood.

Neo growled threateningly beside her, and she silenced him again. She would only unleash him if need be. No use him getting hurt, when it wasn't necessary.

The stranger leaned against the door, but she could sense tension in his body. He wore a black cloak, and a mask that covered his whole face, but for his deep green eyes. He blended into the shadows of the room, and if she didn't know he was there, she might not have seen him.

"What do you want?" she said, tossing her knives about in her hands in warning. The stranger only smiled and twirled his blade by the hilt in response.

"I call her Echo," he said, watching the moonlight shining on the steal. "And she has never failed me." Ember tried to laugh, to feign nonchalance, but his blade cut through the air so smoothly. It was beautiful.

Reaper remained embedded in the wall, and the stranger pulled it out with a grunt, admiring the craftsmanship. He threw it in the air, and Ember watched in awe as it soared in a twisting arc, casting rainbows of silver about the small room. He caught it effortlessly by the hilt and Ember could almost feel the smugness radiating from him.

"She is rather beautiful, herself," he said, pulling Reaper from the wall and angling the blade so that the moonlight shone in her eyes, blinding her. He chuckled as she glared at him. "What is she called?" He tossed the blade to her, and she snatched it from the air, cradling it to her as if it was a child.

"Reaper," Ember frowned. "And you have still not told me your purpose here." The stranger sighed, and Ember thought he looked disappointed. This man was a killer, Ember reminded herself, surely his threatening presence would suggest nothing else.

The darkness seemed to press closer to him and it was as if he was cocooned in it. There was no doubt that he was Gifted, but...

"What are you?" she whispered. He sighed again, as if he was regretful, and shook his head. He swiped his blade through the air and embedded it in the creaky floorboards.