Without a word, the assassin reached behind him. The shadows seemed to bend as he drew forth a sleek black case… long, polished, and sealed with an insignia carved in the shape of a coiling serpent. He dropped to one knee, head bowed, and lifted it toward her with reverence.
Mira’s fingers brushed the surface. It was cool to touch, smooth as if it had been carved from night itself. Slowly, she unlatched the case. The hinges clicked open, and the moonlight pouring through her window caught what lay inside.
The bows were carved from black ash wood, their limbs curved in an elegant, predatory shape. Silver engravings wound along their spine… swirling, ancient sigils that seemed almost to move when the light hit them. The strings shimmered faintly, spun from threads so fine they could slice
