Page 21 of Daughter of Shadows and Ash

Once I finally reached the ground, I was nearly invisible. Not a soul out at the hour, I cast a final glance in both directions before prowling over to the building Vanya had directed me to. It didn't seem unique, squat compared to its neighbors. The cobblestone of the street led up to simple stone steps that sat before a wooden door. As I drew closer, I noticed the door had an eye-level opening. Maybe this wasn't just someone's home.

Hearing laughter approaching, I melted into the shadows at the corner of the building, my fingers curling around the hilt of my dagger.

Taking stock of my surroundings, a man flanked by two women stumbled toward the entrance, their laughter betraying the slur of too much wine.

The viewing slot scraped open, though the door remained hidden from my view. The man murmured in hushed tones to the unseen guard until the snap of the latch echoed and they were granted passage. Perfect. More potential witnesses to complicate my mission.

Only after the viewing slot slammed shut and the lock clicked into place did I move.

The words became my prayer:Get in. Kill the man. Get out. Don't get caught.

My gaze darted between the target building and its neighbor, assessing my options. Three stories up sat my target's office. Not a terrible height, but the walls were maddeningly smooth. Whoever designed this place clearly valued security over aesthetics. The neighboring home loomed a good story higher. I could work with that.

Moving to the back of the property until I found a tree that lifted me halfway up the neighboring home. From there I was back to reaching for each windowsill, burning the muscles of my arms as I hauled myself higher. When I made it to the final windowsill, my hands were raw. The rough brick had shredded my unprotected palms.

Above me, the edge of the roof hung just beyond my reach. Launching upward, I grasped for the hard edge with bleeding fingers. My grip failed.

My feet scrambled for purchase on the now-treacherous windowsill. My right foot slid free, my heart thundering at the thought of falling three stories down.

A fall from this height would shatter bones if I was lucky, kill me if I wasn't. What use was a crippled assassin? Vanya's words echoed in my mind - getting caught or getting dead, same difference.

I slammed my knee against the ledge, pressing myself against filthy windowpanes. The impact surely alerted anyone inside. In desperation, I brought my foot back beneath me, gathered myself and used every bit of strength to leap towards the roof.

Shadows streamed from my fingertips as I reached, and for a heartbeat, I wished they could bridge the gap. Just as despair set in, I felt that too familiar rough surface.

I gripped it tightly and swung myself up, rolling onto the rooftop. For a moment, I just lay there, gasping and listening for any inquiring minds seeking the source of the commotion of my climb. Drawing more shadows around me before I rolled to peer beyond the edge. Not a soul in sight.

Focusing on my mission, I aligned myself to the office window and leapt through the frail glass.

"What in—" A burly voice bellowed from beside me. On the sofa sprawled my target, one woman kneeling before himin a compromising position, the other pressed against his side. The women screamed and fled. Cheap ale, sweat, and cloying perfume fouled the air.

I stalked toward him. His face reddened with every step I took.

"Gold! I'll give you gold, jewels, anything!" He scrambled backward, fighting with his trousers.

Shadows wrapped around me until I vanished. The man glanced around wildly as I moved behind him. Sweat beaded on his brow, his unwashed body reeking of fear.

He whimpered as I grabbed him by his limp blonde hair, my blade pressed against his throat.

"Please, I'll do anything," he begged, his body trembling beneath my grip. My silence terrified him more than words. His marked death would satisfy someone—at least he died true to form: a coward.

I drew my dagger across his neck in one clean stroke. His sobs caught in his throat, body slow to realize its fate. His eyes grew glassy and his chest stilled. Hearing footsteps thundering down the hall—I dove through the shattered window, leaping without another glance.

Rolling as I landed, I sprinted toward Vanya, cloaked in shadows.

Rounding the final corner, I spotted Vanya lounging against a wooden shed. I released my shadows and she gave me a slow clap.

"Not bad," Vanya purred, her feline grin gleaming in the darkness. "We'll work on your subtlety, but you're alive and uncaught. That's a win in my book." She clapped me on the shoulder, guiding me through the labyrinth of shadowy alleys.

The silence suited me. My mind wandered between memorizing our path and grappling with my first contracted kill. Shame gnawed at me—what would my grandmother think?She'd probably beat me with her favorite pan, if she didn't kill me outright for becoming this monster. If she were still alive, I'd be home with her instead of stalking the night for prey.

"What's next?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as the weight of my actions settled over me like a shroud.

Chapter 16

We approached large, iron gates. Beyond them lay a winding path and in the distance, a dark manor stood. Trees peppered the property near the gates.

"Now, I'll show you to your room and get you some new clothes. I bet Cook has something for us to eat if you're hungry." Vanya took a key from her cloak and shoved it into the metal structure. It groaned as she twisted it and pushed the gates open. Once we were inside, she engaged the lock once more. "Tomorrow you begin the real training, get some sleep, you're going to need it."

---