Varetrix stared blankly at the longhouse until its front door blurred before her eyes. Four Snoutlings stood guard outside, armed with spears and wearing light hide armor. The rest had gone inside with the woman.
Now there was no doubt—she was behind the organized Snoutlings.
Leif’s guards had folded instantly, letting her parade into Bjornhavn with her army, but that was expected.
Skarix crossed his arms. “That’s no regular lass, Varetrix. I think we should just pack up and leave.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“It’s going to be ugly if she decides to take revenge because of the warehouse. We don’t have that many bodies in town.”
“You didn’t see the puppy eyes she made when I took her money—that ain’t no fighter.” Varetrix turned and took flight toward the northern cliff overlooking the town.
Makeshift tents came into view, wooden crates piled under the canopies. Waves crashed against the rocks nearby.
Her sentry nodded as Varetrix alighted beside a table. Skarix landed after her.
“Slow day?” she asked.
“A bit slower than usual.”
A scrawny, half-naked harpy trickled down the mountains toward them and dropped a pair of cod on the table.
She frowned. “That’s all you got?”
He scratched his arm. “I have my family to feed as well.”
“You’re getting lazy, the lot of you.” Varetrix weighed the fish on a scale, then tossed a few copper coins on the table. “Why should I bother enforcing this monopoly if you can’t even supply me the damn fish?”
She didn’t pay her tribesmen much—she had to make a profit—but it was more than they would get without her. Any idiot could sell fish.
“Sorry.” The harpy took the money and flew downhill to spend it.
Varetrix rubbed her nose, grimacing. “They stink, too. Hard to believe we’re the same people.”
She and her harpies had been living comfortably in Bjornhavn for a long time now, and the gap between them and her mountain kin only grew wider each year.
“They have no one to blame but themselves, still stuck in the old ways,” the sentry said, adjusting his belt.
“My mother, you mean, the stubborn ol’ hag.”
The northern mountains had no valuable resources to speak of, hence why she came up with the fish business. But that was no excuse for decadence.
Varetrix turned as a small Snoutling warband poured out of the longhouse, led by the female peddler she met a few weeks ago. Leif’s blonde lieutenant escorted them.
“What do they think they’re doing…?”
They beelined towards the confiscated warehouse. Her harpies barred them at the entrance.
The two groups were ready to come to blows when one of the harpies came flying toward her.
“Boss,” he said. “They want the warehouse back, and it seems Leif gave them his blessing.”
“Of course he did. He’s a coward, and she has him hostage.”
“Should we send them packing?”
She waved dismissively. “Just let them have it. We’ll collect rent from them as well when the Snoutlings settle in.”
He nodded and flew back with her orders.
The Snoutlings reclaimed their warehouse as her men stepped back.
“See?” She turned to Skarix. “Nothing ugly. I can be reasonable as well.”
“My bad.” He shook his head, embarrassed. “It seems they don’t want to fight either.”
She clicked her tongue. “I told you, the woman is soft as a feather.”
Business resumed as usual in Bjornhavn. Her harpies lurked at the market, some at the harbor, making sure they got their cut from big transactions. People lowered their heads as she whistled a tune down the street.
This shop was one of her biggest contributors. Frost goblins were regulars, but she didn’t bother them; there was no war here, only business, and peace was good for business.
One of Leif’s lap dogs stood guard outside, watching the street.
“Morning, Ivar,” she said. “Good job making sure those cobblestones don’t run away.”
No answer. He never did, which only made her probe harder.
“How are the little ones, by the way?”
Ivar slowly reached for his sheathed sword.
“What a shame. I thought you cared more about their well-being than this.”
She grinned as his fingers released the hilt.
“Good boy.” Varetrix barked at his face, then danced into the pelt depot, laughing.
A hairy northerner counted pelts behind the counter.
“Haakon!” She opened her arms. “Fine day, isn’t it?”
He lifted his head. “Oh, hi, Varetrix… The weather seems… good. How are you?”
“Better now from seeing you.” She skipped toward the counter. “Got something for me?”
Haakon swallowed. “Is it payday already?”
“With all these Snoutlings coming to town lately, I’m smelling trouble—thieving and stuff. We gotta keep you safe.”
“I see…” He bent down, then placed a coin purse on the counter with a sigh. “I hope this is enough.”
Varetrix opened it.
Laden with silver.
Satisfied, she attached it to her belt. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to run you out of business. You know how it is.”
“Yeah…” Haakon’s head dropped. “I know how it is.”
“Cheer up, buddy!” Varetrix pinched his cheek and left. “I’ll be back next month.”
She continued her usual route, collecting purses from the shops and scarring a few hesitant faces. By nightfall, her belt hung low on her waist.
Skarix sat on a stool outside their safehouse, alone, tapping his feet anxiously.
“Where’s everyone?” she asked, pulling a heavy key from her belt.
“I sent them to keep an extra eye on the streets.”
She frowned. “Why…?”
“I got a bad feeling—the woman hasn’t left Leif’s longhouse yet.”
“What?”
“You heard me right. She’s still in there.”
Varetrix went inside to drop off the collections. “Relax, would ya’? We've already been through this—she got her stuff back. I bet Leif is trying to pull one over her now.”
“I’m not so sure. How do you know he’s not trying to pull one over us instead?”
“We’re the ones who pay him, you idiot!” She stormed outside once her belt was empty and slammed the door closed. “Shut up already. You spoiled my mood.”
Skarix stood up and crossed his arms. “Sorry. I’m just worried about you.”
Varetrix snorted despite herself.
Skarix slapped her hand away, blushing. “You can’t take anything serious—”
The snow rustled, cutting him short. A shadowed figure emerged from an alley ahead.
“Who goes there?” He squinted. “Alectrix, is that you?”
Black hair turned bluish under the moonlight, a sword’s pommel gleaming at his waist.
Varetrix scoffed. “Ivar?”
The guard strolled leisurely toward them, hands behind his back.
Skarix set off to meet him. “You’re not supposed to be—”
Her eyes widened as a dagger flashed from behind Ivar’s back.
Skarix braced to defend himself, but he could only grab the man’s shoulders and gasp as the blade sank into his chest—again and again.
She froze in disbelief, blood draining from her head.
The guard’s eyes flicked to her. “Go to Hell.”
Skarix slid out of the dagger and dropped limp on the snow.
“No!” She lunged at him with her claws when the wound on her side tore open mid-swing. “Argh—”
Ivar parried easily, not even unsheathing his sword, then landed a vicious kick on the inside of her right leg, forcing Varetrix to kneel.
She panted as more human guards emerged from alleys and surrounded her.
What’s going on?! Where are my harpies—
Shouting broke out in the distance. Residents barricaded themselves inside their homes as Snoutling squads took to the streets and engaged her scattered warflock across Bjornhavn.
A roar thundered above the battle.
Her fighters broke into a run when glowing ice waves flashed between the buildings, freezing them in place.
Ivar stepped in front of her, blocking her view, then drew his sword above her head.
Varetrix snapped her eyes shut, gritting her teeth.
“Leave her!” a familiar voice cried. “We don’t want to start a vendetta with her mother.”
She lifted her head. “Leif…?”
The Burgomaster stopped between the guards as they split, hands resting atop his belly.
“Have you lost your mind?!” she asked.
“Quite the contrary. Your… services are no longer required.”
“What…?”
The town fell quiet. A handful of panicked harpies managed to take flight and disappeared into the night.
“Bjornhavn is now under the protection of the Witch of Winter. And the best part—” He leaned down beside Varetrix’s head and whispered, “She charges nothing.”
Her stomach churned.
A white bear appeared in the distance, carrying the Witch toward the mountain pass.
Who does she think she is?!
Ivar and Magnus dragged Varetrix away. Leif boomed with laughter as the town watch stormed her safehouse and plundered it.
Her bloodshot eyes flicked between them, then settled on the Witch.
Bitch, I’ll kill you!