The headquarters of Northland’s Hunters were located in an old building standing in the center of a town called Jackdaw, just a five or six hour train ride from the Frontier. The building was tall, round, and in the center of the many small offices and cubicles there was a round common room filled to the brim with old couches covered in rough texture. The place was currently packed, and a Witch was elbowing her way through the crowd to get to her twin brother, whom she could spot near the fireplace.

He noticed her too and waved her over. “Chiara!”

Instead of a hello, she started with the words, “May Mraz help the weasels when I get my hands on them!”

The young man grinned. “So how’d it go, sis?”

“They outran us and then we got stuck,” she answered, threw herself on the nearest unoccupied armchair and leaned back. “I don’t know exactly how many they were, but the Gate closed and we couldn’t get out of there until a few blazing hours later, and in the meantime we had to sit and interrogate everyone on sight. By then, they were already impossible to find.”

Her brother pulled up a stool next to her. “Feet up.”

She obeyed tiredly and he started taking off her boots.

Chiara asked, “How’s the situation here?”

“Not much better… since there aren’t that many Hunters at the airports and only two in the Middle… they say they haven’t seen anyone.”

“Liars.”

“We can’t prove it. And we couldn’t cut them off at the Main Gates on this side, so I suppose they used an unauthorized one.”

“And those always move so we can’t catch them on time.” She puffed out a heavy sigh. “Hey, has that Finton brat been around?”

“Right over there.”

She looked at the appointed direction and yelled out: “You! Dragonbreath!”

The boy she’d been addressing looked around and she waved him over. Even from a certain distance she could see his expression clench into a frown. Finton shuffled closer and barked:

“What?”

“Don’t take that tone with me. I have a task for you.”

“I don’t have time, between all of the errands you herring make me run around here anyway, and—”

“If you want to stay here, you’ll do what we tell you, little boy.”

He gave Chiara a nasty look.

She added, “Either you take what I give you now or I’m sending you to Boreas.”

The boy scrunched his nose. “Fine, what do you want?”

“Deliver a message to Steven Belwhite. Tell him we couldn’t find his son and that we don’t know where he is yet.”

“Yes, so he can kill the messenger,” the boy said dryly, rolling up his eyes. “Shouldn’t we tighten security around Her Majesty instead?”

Chiara frowned. “Not a bad idea, but you should run it by the Chief first. Do that also. Quickly now!” As the boy turned his back to them and walked off, she called: “And keep a lookout for Sir Belwhite’s son while you’re at it!”

Her brother looked after Finton. “Why do you suppose he called us herring?”

“Knowing his language, if I knew I’d send him to Boreas anyway,” Chiara dragged her voice as she leaned back into the armchair.

“He’s going to make us pay one day,” her brother noted, still massaging her feet.

“You’re too soft on him, Luke. He’s working just to make up for the difference between us, that’s all.”

“I say don’t get on the wrong side of a person who has the first pet dragon seen in centuries.”

Chiara groaned and closed her eyes.

Luke asked, “So there’s a problem near Boreas?”

“The valkoliki seem to be going wild lately so we’ll need to go and teach them where their borders are again. I just hope we’re allowed a few days’ rest until then.”

“We might just. I heard there should be a blizzard soon.”

“Blast it all.”