Kira Blackwood's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Kira Blackwood stepped through the broken door of the small stone cottage and stopped. The thatched roof sagged. Moss-laced walls had been split open. This was the only home she had known since she was nineteen, and someone had torn it apart looking for the family's heirloom — a copper tree strung with glass blossoms that proved their name and their land. She moved through the wreckage slowly. Smashed chairs. Torn drawers. The thief had been thorough, and fast. A sharp cry pulled her eyes upward. A red-tailed hawk circled low over the ruined roof, its bright wings catching the gray light. It did not leave. It kept circling the same patch of debris near the hearth. Kira knelt where the bird watched. Beneath a fallen beam, half-buried in ash, lay a small copper vine sculpture with glass leaves. It had been knocked loose from its hiding place inside the chimney stone. The thief had missed it. She lifted it carefully and saw a maker's mark pressed into the base — a name she recognized. She closed her fist around the vine. The hawk cried once more and flew east. Kira stood, the clue warm in her palm, and knew exactly whose door to watch next.