Sandor Songbird sang a song so sweet and pure that the words became the progenitors of the Heart Warble, most beautiful of singing birds. His sister Van Vorgine grew jealous and stole some of his beautiful words for herself. These stolen notes became the fathers of the predatory birds of the ambush family. He never forgave her.

-The Third Verses of Creation

Six figures in yeti fur and leather armor dyed black emerged from the alleys armed with the type of heavy crossbows used to hunt wild mammoths. Jordan glanced back at Haru and Akiko through a curtain of gently falling snow. He took a protective step towards them and one of the black-clad barked in Northern Troll, a language popular among clandestine groups for its clipped conciseness. The business end of six crossbows aimed at the woman and child. Jordan froze in his tracks.

"Don't be so hasty, Jordie," Absinthe's nasal voice chirped. "We don't want my people to get nervous and punch a few holes in your new friends, do we?"

On huge flapping butterflies wings, a slender woman fluttered down from the rooftops to land beside the groaning bounty hunter. As tall as Jordan, she had long arms and legs that gave her an almost insect-like spindliness. Nose too pointy, eyes too wide, a quick glance made her appear human while slightly missing the mark. Daggers rode on her hips, a long sword on her back, and Jordan knew from experience there were at least a dozen knives secreted about her person. She flipped a wet swoop of hair out of her face and grinned like a mischievous pixie.

"It's been so long. Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Absinthe, anyone happy to see you in this kind of circumstance would need their head examined."

"Jordan. Jordan. Jordan." Hands clasped behind her back, she leaned forward and scrutinized his face. "Your hair has gone to gray, but you haven't aged a bit under there. What's your secret?"

Jordan stared, unable to find the words. It had been over a hundred years and the last time they'd seen each other he'd buried a knife in her chest. Yet there she was, the same despite how the world around them had changed so drastically.

"Help me," the old bounty hunter groaned. "My legs are broken"

"Sounds like you've outlived your usefulness."

"Wait! No- I'm–"

Absinthe made a clicking noise deep in her throat, three clacks that made the hair on Jordan's neck stand on end. The wings on her back flapped twice then the ribbing of her leather armor peeled back. The stylized armature of her leather proved to actually be the insectoid legs of a butterfly the size of a domestic cat. The creature bounded off her back and pounced on the old man. He screamed for mercy and was silenced as the creature's proboscis punctured his throat.

"Wait!" Haru shouted. "I need him..." her voice trailed away.

In the silence the butterfly fed with soft sucking sounds. She swore in frustration and whorled on Absinthe. The leader of the bowmen barked a warning.

"Stop," Jordan said, gesturing for her to be still. "He didn't have anything for you. She does." He pointed at Absinthe, who was examining the other men lying in the snow. "Absinthe."

"Hmmmm?" She poked the orc in the knee eliciting a cry of pain.

"The antidote."

"Oh." She looked up, wearing her characteristic mischievous smile. "I left that back at The Capital. If we leave in the morning, we can be there in a few days."

"What? I'm not going to Kronanhold. I came here–"

"To find out who was looking for you. You've found me, now you'll come back with me to ensure these two lovely ladies received the treatment they need." Absinthe stood and directed her attention to Haru. "Have the shakes gotten bad yet? Can you still control your bladder? I've always found that specific side effect disgusting." She made a face. "You were a competent Naturalist before you left the order, so I'm sure you've whipped up something to take the edge off."

"How do you know me?" Haru asked, her voice as cold as the snowy night.

"I make my coin knowing people and how they'll react. Take Jordie here. It's been a long time, but at his core he's always been a good man with a soft spot for tough women." Absinthe stepped over and pinched Jordan's cheek. "Short of drugging him, I'd never be able to get him to Kronanhold with so few men, but introduce him to the right ladies," she kissed his whiskered cheek, "and he'll walk the seventy miles for two tiny vials."

Fiery rage flared inside and Jordan drove his fist into Absinthe's gut. She squeaked and stumbled back, doubled over. The crossbow leader called an order–

"Stop!" Absinthe gasped. "It's okay. Jordie and I are old, old friends. He's entitled to a freebie, one freebie." Her butterfly flapped onto her shoulder and she glared up at Jordan. "Don't do that again."

"Why would you do this?" he asked.

"Why else? Someone is paying me to bring you home."

Absinthe was a creature of Winter if I'd ever met one. Cunning, cold, calculating. She wasn't evil, she just was. To think that she and Jordan were once friends boggled my mind initially, but, like the concoctions she was fond of mixing, she had a tendency to grow on people.

Jordan tried in vain to sleep in his room at Olga's Watering Hole, generously paid for by Absinthe with the silver from her own pocket. It wasn't the noise from the tavern or thoughts of having been snared in the trap like one of Absinthe's insects. It was the simple fact that he hadn't slept in anything but his own half-stuffed mattress in decades. Even the room made him feel out of place. In the end, he sat out in the taproom until the sky brightened outside. Light snow fell steadily and the few patrons present paid their tabs and stumbled out into the street.

Nursing a mug of thin bitter ale, Jordan watched as Haru and Akiko entered the room. They both looked as if they'd slept no better than he had. Haru and Olga, the owner of the place, had a quick conversation then the two left, walking in the direction the plump orc had directed. Gulping down his drink, Jordan got up and followed.

They didn't go far.

Just off the square they ducked into a shack sagging under the weight of the snow. A stone post stood out front, the symbol of the apothecary college stamped on a shabby sign. Not wanting to crowd them inside, he moved a few houses down and practiced some basic breathing. Soon he could hear the couple inside discuss a foray into the swamp to attempt to collect wood for a construction project. One was worried about the state of the wood they'd find and the other was worried about recent duppy attacks.

The two men left their home at the same time Haru and Akiko exited the apothecary. The little girl spotted Jordan first and pointed him out. He bid the men good luck on their day's endeavor and joined the girls on their way back towards Olga's.

"Grabbing ingredients to help with the symptoms?" he asked.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Yes— well— What is your problem with me?"

Haru glared at him for a moment then sighed. "Our lives were hard enough before that circle-damned bounty hunter poisoned us. We hadn't even met you yet and you'd ruined our lives."

"I wouldn't say ruined," Akiko said, popping a couple of winter nuts in her mouth. "We eat a lot more now. There's more forage out in the wilds than back home in the city."

"There is that," Haru grumbled.

Jordan glanced down at her and she smiled, offering him a winter nut. He took it with a word of thanks.

"Listen," he began, "Absinthe kills for fun and won't hesitate if you give her an excuse, but she keeps her word. If we get to Kronanhold she'll give you your antidote."

"She'll give us the antidote one way or another."

Jordan registered the fierceness in her voice, the steel. It flowed contrary to the teachings of The Order of Natural Preservation. They were pacifist unless defending sites of importance to their local ecosystems. Naturalists were quiet preservers... or they were a couple hundred years ago.

"Papillon are notoriously hard to kill. Even among them, Absinthe is considered tough."

They entered the town square and one of Absinthe's men was there among the orcs shoveling snow. He tilted his head towards the town entrance and walked off. Jordan watched him, wondering what kind of man hid under the leather and yeti fur.

"She was right about me, you know. I intend to walk the seventy miles and get you the vials of antidote. I just need you to keep your head until I get there."

"We can do that," Akiko said with a smirk.

Haru and Jordan looked down at the girl and chuckled.

Absinthe, her bowman, and the would-be bounty hunter named Jaq, all waited at the gates of Molin-Gon. Twin giant butterflies circled above them, making swirling patterns of the falling snow. As Jordan, Haru, and Akiko approached, Absinthe called down her pets. One clamped around her waist, its wings fluttering twice before settling down her back like a cape. The other flew over the town walls and into the countryside.

"I hope you're up for the trip, ladies." Absinthe did a quick inspection of their expedition. "The journey will be cold and hard, and we have miles to go before we rest."

"We'll manage," Haru grumbled.

"Good. It's time to go, people!"

They set off into the wilds of eastern Fearhold, following a seldom used trail once known as the Vein of Tusk. It had been the main route used by orcish recruits eager to be pressed into the service of The Kings of Winter. The Kings filled the ranks of their armies with these orcs, ready to bloody themselves for honor and bragging rights. The trail had once been worn down to a dirt path by hundreds of boots. That had been before the forever winter, before the armies of Winter collapsed, turning on one another in ill-conceived grabs for power. For a hundred years, only the most hardy of traders used the trail. The trade roads were better maintained, but took triple the time to get from the orc lands to Kronanhold.

An assassin, a naturalist and her apprentice, six manhunters from the guild, a would-be bounty hunter, and a deadman braved the snowy forests of birch and black willows.

Jordan had thought of himself as dead to the world for so long that he had no immediate words for the warmth slowly building in his chest. He initially feared he was getting sick, but the truth was far more insidious. At least for a time, he'd found purpose.

The first night camping under the snow-covered trees of The Vein of Tusk proved awkward. The guild bowman could not reconcile resting while keeping a watchful eye over Jordan, Haru and Akiko. And when Absinthe told them there would be no need, this only seemed to confuse them more. For their part, Haru and Jordan didn't trust the guildsmen either. They put their tents together and took turns watching the sellswords. Absinthe found it all quite entertaining.

Four days out of Molin-Gon, the terrain shifted to an uphill march as they began to leave the lowlands of Fearhold. With the snow and cold, everyone quickly felt the strain. None more than Akiko. Jordan noticed her and Haru falling behind and slowed his pace, glancing back with concerned looks.

"We need to stop!" Haru called out. She knelt in the snow and rubbed the little girl's legs.

"Again," Absinthe grumbled and fluttered into the air. The constant snowfall seemed to keep her only a few feet off the ground, but she flew over to circle the girls. "This will be the third time."

"It's cold and she's tired," Haru snapped.

"I'm okay," Akiko whispers. "It's just my legs."

"This truly is no place for a child... we might have to leave her behind."

Haru shot a glare at Absinthe that would have burned if not for the ever-present chill.

"Absolutely not," Jordan said, joining them. He barely heard the bowmen spread out, readying their weapons, but he didn't need to. They watched his every move.

"Our provisions will only last for so long, Jordie. If she slows us down, we won't make it."

"You should have thought of that before you dragged us out here."

"I did," Absinthe grinned and slid a knife from her sleeve. The grin turned into a scowl, when Jordan put his hand on the hilt of Wyrm's Tooth. "You're a naturalist. Can't you conjure up something with your magiks?"

"I can only pull on what's naturally available. She needs warmth and rest, but the warmth would need to come from somewhere."

A mischievous gleam returned to Absinthe's eyes and she studied her people.

"No. I will not do that," Haru said firmly.

"But you've left the order, surely you can bend one rule..."

"I said no."

"I can carry her," Jordan said. "If it's okay with you, I can carry her." He met Haru's eyes and watched distrust clash with practicality on her face.

"It's settled then," Absinthe chuckled as Haru's shoulders slumped.

He carefully hoisted up Akiko.

"Thank you," she said, her lips trembling a little.

"You're welcome." He smiled at his new cargo then nodded to Haru.

Absinthe fluttered away with a chortle, and ordered the expedition forward.

"Be careful with her," Haru said.

She rose on tiptoes to kiss Akiko on the cheek then followed the column. Jordan watched her go, feeling pangs of guilt that he'd dragged them into his wretched life. The bounty hunter, Jaq, approached from the rear.

"If you need a break, I'll gladly take her."

Jordan nodded, but he had no intentions of handing either one of the girls over to him or the guildsmen.

They walked for a few minutes then, once he was sure everyone else was preoccupied with trudging through the snow, he reached into his bag and pulled out his small pouch. Even in the bitter cold, he could feel its precious content inside. He put the bag in Akiko's hand.

"Carry this for me?" he whispered. "Just for a little while."

Her eyes lit up and her pallor visibly brightened. She looked around quickly, then peered into the pouch. Her large eyes reflected the gold within, its heat washing over their skin. She tore her eyes away from the stone and met his own gaze. Jordan smiled and she smiled back.

"What is it?"

"Solid Light."

"So much of it? The priests say that The Unbroken Circle won't create gold again until the forever winter ends." She closed the pouch reverently.

"That may be true... yet there was a time when gold was so abundant the rulers of Summer used it to create their palaces. There was once an entire elven city made of it. They called it Tearallynia."

Akiko grinned. "I like hearing you speak about your past, even if it sounds impossible."

Jordan laughed and looked up ahead for Haru. The idea that such things were impossible sounded like an adult's cynicism of an adult and not the optimism of a child. Haru suddenly glanced up at the white forest canopy. Following her gaze, he spotted Absinthe's second giant butterfly. Jordan noticed immediately that something was wrong with the huge creature.

Trailing purple ichor in its wake, the butterfly crashed into a snowdrift a few feet from its master. The second butterfly took to the air as she rushed to the purple hole in the snow.

Instinct made Jordan run past the bowmen, spreading out to investigate, and straight to Haru. He scanned the forest, unsure the nature of the threat.

"That creature was badly wounded." Haru stared at the butterfly in Absinthe's arms.

"I saw. Take Akiko. I think—"

A bolt whistled through the air and buried itself deep into the chest of one of the bowmen. Jordan grabbed Haru and ran into the trees opposite the attack. The muffled twang and whistle of return fire filled the air intermingled with hastily shouted orders. After a few dozen feet, Haru yanked free of Jordan but continued running with him. A bolt whizzed past to strike a tree. Altering their course, they ran until they could no longer hear the sounds of fighting.

He gestured to a trio of birch growing close together.

"Wait there."

"Wait, don't leave us," Akiko squeaked.

"Where are you going?" Haru demanded, nearly out of breath.

"If Absinthe dies, there's no antidote."

"If you die, she'll have no reason to give it to us."

"Then I'd better be careful."

He was already running and couldn't quite hear her sharp response. Charging back along the path they'd made, Jordan focused on his breathing and the input of his senses. He might not be able to see their attackers, but a skilled hunter relied on more than sight. He was rewarded by a gurgled plea for mercy a few moments later. Stalking low in the snow, he followed the sound of snarled refusal. From the concealment of a bush, barely discernible under a blanket of snow, Jordan watched an orc hunter yank a curved blade from one of the guild bowmen's chest.

The tribal marks matched those of the dead hunters he'd found in Belgaul.

The orc wiped the blood off his blade with the bowman's scarf then turned his attention to the trail where more of his kin set to their bloody work. He didn't hear Jordan until the last moment. Spinning around to respond, he took a knife to the eye and another to the groin. Jordan lowered his body beside the bowman and hurried away. There was enough blood that he wouldn't give himself away with the droplets in his wake. Taking cover in the shadow of a thick black willow, he hid and watched.

The guild archers were all down, though a few groaned in the snow. An equal number of orc hunters littered the trail as well. Numbers and surprise had won them the contest. Jordan squinted against the curtain of continuous snow in hopes of spotting Absinthe. He had no luck.

An orc whistled and the five looked up from finishing the wounded to watch a giant butterfly spring from the canopy. It trilled and circled one of the orcs, peppering her with a crackling red dust before retreating back to the treetops. While the others drew their crossbows, she clawed at her eyes and throat. With a sudden roar, she charged into her nearest tribesman, tackling him to the ground. Screaming wordlessly, she hacked at him with a hatchet.

The others hurried to restrain her, wrestling against her berserk strength. Springing out from under one of the corpses, Absinthe grabbed the orc on watch. Striking with swift deadly precision, she buried six knives in him. Jordan charged into the fray as the orcs released their crazed friend who dropped onto her back, screaming and bleeding from her ears. Deflecting the wild swing of an orc blade, he snatched the dagger from the man's belt and drove it into his gut. The other orc raised his crossbow and fired. The bolt zipped through the air only to ricochet harmlessly off of Absinthe's cheek.

In the instant before the hunter fingered his trigger, the moisture had drained from Absinthe's skin, turning it hard like insect chitin. Her large eyes had hardened and become multifaceted. She was no longer a caricature of a human, but the image of a man-sized bug. Bellowing an inhuman shriek, she skittered over the dead bodies and plowed into the orc as he reloaded his crossbow. Lifting him into the air with one hand, she drove a grotesquely long tongue into his throat.

Another crossbow bolt glanced off her shoulder with similar uselessness. More orc hunters pour out of the trees. Jordan ran to Absinthe as they opened fire. She threw her arms wide, covering him with her hardened skin. A barrage of bolts struck her with little effect, though the last tore a chunk of chitin from her forehead.

"Their coming, Jordie." Despite her grim visage, her nasal voice sounded excited. "We haven't fought side by side in ages. It's just like old times."

Jordan drew Wrym's Tooth. "The old times are dead and buried under tons of snow, and it should stay that way."

Then the orcs were on them.