The Urals were like any number of other mountain ranges. Cold and large. Large and cold. Inhospitable in the extreme. And like all the other inhospitable places the world over, crazy humans were already somehow living there. That alone said much about humanity, if you thought about it. I was not much for introspection however; I had my mind firmly on more important things as we finally strode our of the blinding snow and biting wind.

“Beer me.”

The rather charming looking Russian girl (more charming than the moose she was trying to resemble with that pole-axed look for the moment, at least) hesitated. So I felt repeating myself in the manner best used for those terminally slow in the head was needed.

“Beer. Now. Not five minutes from now. Right now.”

She moved.

“Sasha, you need to work on your tact. It's obvious the poor girl isn't used to outsiders. Some people need to get their stare on.”

Well that was just stupid.

“Staring is fine... after I get beer. And maybe some food. She can be all fascinated as I check my toes for frostbite. But you got to prioritize.”

Alicia backed me up, unwinding that scarf she'd picked up on the way from her face and shaking the snow and ice out of it. Oh well, can't have everything.

“For once I agree with the pipsqueek. People can stare all they want... while getting us what we need. This IS an inn, after all. Poor customer service could affect repeat business!”

“We are probably the first outsiders the girl has ever seen. I can't imagine they get many visitors up here. Just too damn cold.”

The 'girl' was probably older than I was, come to think of it. But it was always experience over years, after all. I was well traveled, and she probably hadn't taken 10 steps out of this god-forsaken alley. Ivan defended his him, but couldn't keep his tone even.

“More than you might think, Sasha, Alicia. The mountains farther North in particular seem to be tourist hotspots.”

As good a veiled warning to keep your guard up as any I've gotten; Ivan was saying this entire village could be compromised right now. Though there was no hat on the waitress, that didn't mean much. It could be hidden among her clothes. It was always harder to tell in the colder climes, and therefore more dangerous.

The innkeeper was a man, and judging by the features as the two stood side by side, both wringing their hands while trying to appear unimpressed by our august personages, related closely to the waitress. Probably her father. Which was a good sign, since most of the time family members died first to a witch. The lack of care worn lines etched into the happy father's face also spoke of a carefree, and therefore witch free life. I could ignore the frown directed at us.

Then the jolly bundle of love recognized Ivan, who had finally taken his own headgear off (a ski mask that he had packed; where he found one in this day and age I will never know... mostly because he won't tell me, the bastard).

“Ivan! As I live and breathe! It has been years! What brings you back to our little patch of heaven?”

“You know what, Gregor. You're the one who sent the letter, after all.”

And just like that suspicion all but vanished. Gregor here wouldn't want hunters on the trail if his daughter were a witch. Though it wouldn't be the first time such a trick had been pulled on us, it was highly unlikely.

“I did; so you received it. I had some worry sending Albert. He is as far away from his namesake as one could get.”

Ivan snorted, making me curious.

“Isn't that the truth. Still, he did manage the trails and roads alright. Made it to us virtually unmolested.”

“Virtually?”

“Well he had an incident with wolves, so he says. I think it was more an angry boyfriend on a morning after, but he could actually be telling the truth this time.”

The girl snorted this time, making me REALLY curious. Sounded like this Albert guy would be fun to know. Or annoy me worse than Dustin, and get in a dreadful 'accident'. Which could be amusing too, I guess.

“So who are your friends, Ivan?”

Ivan pointed us out in turn as he named us.

“Well this is Alicia Fraun, and this is Sasha Norre.”

The inkeeper's eyes went wild. A bit later the daughter seemed to make the connection, and almost spilled my beer with her shaking hands.

“Wait, THE Sasha Norre? The Maniacal Marksman?”

Ahh, my fame preceded me. Even in a backwards pest hole in the Urals I was known. I was in a pretty good mood, so of course the waitress had to ruin it.

“You're a boy?!? I thought you were...”

“Thought I was what?”

“Sasha, holster the gun please. I know these people.”

Grumbling, I did as asked. The waitress didn't help matters when she actually answered my question, proving that Albert wasn't the only 'special' person to come from this village.

“I thought you were a girl who had a sore throat from the cold.”

“Sasha, no. It's impolite to murder the beer wench, eh?”

I lowered my gun again.

“You're right. More beer, beer wench. Lot's more. And whatever you have hot to eat. I'm sick of chewing on snow.”

“Right away!”

She could move pretty quickly in that dress of hers. I turned to the innkeeper.

“So, any news further up the range?”

He smoothed his features, pasted on a smile, and shook his head. Honestly, it was like people thought I was an ogre or something. The real danger wasn't me at all.

“No, nothing. No word of any kind from the two villages further up, nor those on the other side of the mountain.”

Which meant it was almost certain that there was something to the rumors of witches. No word from four villages, in over a month, after one person got out to spread the rumor? It was almost certainly a trap. But a trap for who? If it was my mother, I was not arrogant about our chances.

Chances were that unless the hunters involved were very sneaky, and got in a lethal strike before she knew they were there... she'd murder them. It wouldn't even be close. And I was maybe the only one who stood any kind of real chance, other than Gloom himself, or his team. But I doubted any trap here was meant for me; it just didn't make much sense.

After all, mother could find me any time she wanted. I was positive of that fact, since I never tried to hide. No witch who wanted to find me would have to look especially hard.

But a trap for Gloom or any other of the strongest of us was likely. Which made it a good thing we hadn't sent anyone like that, even as it made it more dangerous for us personally.

But all it really meant was that we would have to go and scout for ourselves, and go from there. We were completely blind in this. I was lucky I had Ivan, who at least knew the area. One of the most immediate questions was burning in my mind. Why had this village been spared the invasion of the mad hatters? Why not just collect them all?

Something to ponder in between beers.

Ivan and Alicia both seemed to have the same idea; together we emptied the first pitcher in seconds. The food was some sort of sausage and potato dish. Filling and plenty of it, we wasted no time packing it away. As the sun set, it somehow managed to get colder in here. The big roaring fire did what it could, but something told me the lack of central heating would be an annoyance.

We needed sleep, and then a fresh start. So I went upstairs and chose a room while Alicia settled up the bill. From the sounds of it, Alicia wasn't happy to be the one chosen to settle up, but if they didn't ask me, and didn't ask Ivan, who else were they going to ask? I could hardly blame them if they didn't want to approach my august amazingness.

The rooms were too cold for the usual bugs or vermin to infest; which was a pretty good cheap alternative to pesticides, come to think of it. Judging by this room, all the rooms had fireplaces of their own, with wood fully stocked. I lit the conveniently set fire, set the grate, then jumped under the covers. It was almost like being back at my home for the winter.

Except there was no homicidal family waiting to murder me. Those lay further up the road.

…...........................................

Morning was, unfortunately, a morning. That's about the best thing that could be said about it. It was the kind of morning where a man wanted beer. Dark earthy Russian ale; the breakfast of champions. Of course, it was cold. The fire was still burning though, which meant someone had come in the night or early morning, and re-stoked it. Without waking me. A very neat trick.

Must have been the bar wench. I doubted the innkeeper had light enough steps.

I was actually well rested for once; piling your way through snow drifts as big as you were all day in order to walk in mind numbing cold tended to wear a person out, even if they were the pinnacle of human perfection.

So I threw on some clothes and walked downstairs; finding the rising sun greeting me. The bar wench was yawning as she pushed a ratty broom around, which was witch like behavior – but then no witch alive would be caught dead in that apron. At least not with a dress on underneath. There was that one witch in France....

But then again, this wasn't France. A fact I was reminded of when the girl spotted me and threw the broom away with a loud mouse like squeak. She acted like she'd just called me short or something! Though, come to think of it, she was taller than me, and could obviously stand to lose a few inches....

“I'm sorry sir, you startled me.”

“Apology accepted, and good morning. So what's your name? I can hardly keep calling you 'beer wench'. Though, if you want me to keep calling you that I suppose it's fine.”

She squeaked again, and her face turned more red than the fire in the hearth.

“My name is Eva, sir.”

“Sasha. Pleased to meet you. Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, could you get me a beer and some food? Preferably something with a few less potatoes in than yesterday?”

“Right away sir!”

And just like that, she bounced off. I picked up her broom, kicked out a chair to slump in, and waited.

It was a good fifteen minutes later (I had already checked my guns and ammunition twice; all was well on that front) when she rushed back in with more of that dark ale and a plate of eggs and bacon, with some sort of dark bread on the side. I exchanged the plate for her broom.

“Don't let me stop you.”

She got back to work while I ate. I finished well before she did. I didn't raise a fuss however; I was feeling rather mellow.

Ivan came down just as she finished, and the innkeeper guy, Gregor, came out of the kitchen to gather the plate (aiming a dirty look at Eva, who had taken forever to push that broom around). He all but jumped through the roof as he saw me calmly sipping my beer.

“Sasha! You're up early. Sleep well?”

“Yes, actually. So tell me, Gregor, Eva... were any of you in my room last night, stoking my fire?”

Eva's eyes got very wide as she stammered denials I couldn't even understand. They were in Russian (which I knew) but so broken I couldn't follow them. Gregor just shook his head and added.

“It is policy to do so if asked, but you did not ask, and thanks to your... reputation I thought it imprudent.”

“That's what I thought.”

Ivan caught on almost immediately.

“You would know us by tread, if Alicia or I did it, but we didn't. You would wake up for an unfamiliar tread.”

A survival trait; one did not long survive if they were a heavy sleeper. I finished the thought. I most pointedly did not think about how Ivan knew Alicia couldn't have been the one to do it, though I had my suspicions.

“So a familiar tread that wouldn't wake you up, stoked your fire. While not stoking ours. Alicia turned the service down while I of course, am immune to cold.”

And he actually thumped his chest. I was too relieved at hearing they had spent the night in different rooms to call him on it; after all he had been whining about the temperature freezing his water in the canteen just last week! But as always, he saw to the heart of the matter; something was definitely going on.

She was here.

Which she, I wasn't sure, but at least one of them was. Worse, they knew I was here. They had in fact, singled me out in such a way that I would know that they knew. I was betting it was mom. After all, who else would tuck me in and stoke the fire?

Sis could have done it, but like me, she wasn't known for being subtle. Or nice. Just ask Antwerp, that is if you could find a survivor.

And all this had happened with three experienced hunters in the inn, and two other people, and none had been the wiser. I nodded at Ivan, and he got the message, going upstairs to check on Alicia. I on the other hand decided to look around.

I had just come to the conclusion that the inn was clear of nasty surprises when Ivan came down, leading a rather irate Alicia.

“What the hell is the big idea, Ivan?!? I haven't even had my eight hours yet!”

Ivan just led her up to me without a word. She took one look at my face and shut up. Which was good, because I didn't want to yell over her.

“A witch was here last night. They crept through my room, stoked my fire, and left. All without killing anyone, or taking anything.”

I used no names, but credit given, Alicia knew exactly what I meant.

“Just great. Breakfast then please, beer wench.”

I couldn't help myself. I channeled my inner Dustin, making myself as snooty voiced as I could. I looked down at her as much as I could while looking up at her to reply.

“Her name, is Eva.”

I turned to Gregor.

“We need some supplies.”

He also got the point immediately.

“I'll make a list of what I have,”

And he left without a backward glance. After all the sooner we were gone, the sooner the more immediate threat to his town and townsfolk eased back to it's prior level. And hey, that level must be pretty low, since they weren't dead yet. Though the chances were they had been kept alive just for the illusion of normalcy.

Still no reason to make the risk a near certainty. A warning is a warning is a warning.

Alicia and Ivan both were eating as we left, bags packed and supplies restocked. Most importantly, the liquid refreshment; we did tend to go through the beer really quickly. The next village was a good three days away, but the trail (calling it a road was a little more generous than I was feeling) that Ivan showed us was straight and clear of normal threats, or so he said.

Since he was our local guide, I let him break the trail. It had nothing to do with some of the drifts being as tall as I was, or the snow being too loose for proper snowshoes. Despite what Alicia said. The journey was uneventful, unless you count seeing deer as being eventful. Even the dead fall trap that almost killed me was a yawn-fest.

Honestly I was beginning to get angry; it was like they weren't even trying.

Then Ivan wanted to stop for lunch. He was wet and miserable looking, like a giant drowned bear. But he was a slacker; I wasn't even tired! But whatever. He sat and drank his lunch while I collected the least soggy tinder I could find. We would want a fire later; places like this got truly miserable after dark, and good dry tinder wasn't always accessible.

The rest of the day passed much as the first half; if not for the cold and snow, this would be a nice relaxing nature hike. The thought made me physically ill. Ivan knew me.

“Sasha, don't go borrowing trouble.”

“but, not even a bear! It's been all day! All freaking day!!!”

“Soon we shall have more violence than we can all three handle. You just need to be patient.”

“I don't DO patience. You know this.”

Alicia threw a rock at me. Really.

“Suck it up and learn how. I'm not getting killed because you can't get your adrenaline fix, you damn junkie.”

An opening! I retorted in my best, most reasonable voice.

“You do realize throwing a stone at a violence prone adrenaline junkie is asking to die, right?”

Ivan managed to sound a lot like a mother (well at least one that wasn't homicidal) as he sighed.

“Please you two, no fighting, or I'll turn this expedition around.”

Sigh. I wanted to shoot something. I couldn't even shoot the trees! The guns would make too much noise, and draw unwanted attention. Of course that was on the off chance we hadn't already been made, which was highly unlikely. I was pretty sure my personality was well known among our enemies; namely how I wouldn't waste time when there was a witch to kill. Or maybe that was my arrogance talking, who knew?

Yes, I was a bit arrogant, sometimes. A little. I could even admit it and be humble. In between all those times of being awesome, that is.

As boring as it all was, I didn't signal the halt until the sun was beginning to dip. Once it got dark it would get cold fast, which meant it was time to clear some snow and get a fire going. I let Ivan clear the frozen ground, and Alicia set up the shelter (which was little more than a lean-to set very close to the fire pit; she was lazy) While I gathered the fire wood. Of course, when I got back to find everything ready and so dumped my first load of wood in the newly made fire circle, Alicia decided to take issue with how I did things.

“That crap will never burn; it's too wet.”

Heh. I removed one of my incendiary shells from my pocket. Hey, whether I knew how to make a proper fire or not, this was obviously life or death! A battle against the elements and nature itself! And every proper battle followed one simple doctrine.

Shoot it until it stops moving.

“Uh, Sasha... that's a high yield incendiary shell.”

Alicia started edging back while Ivan face-palmed.

“Yes, so it is.”

“What do you intend to do with it?”

I stared at him, aghast.

“Isn't it obvious, Ivan? I mean, really?!?”

“Yes Sasha, it is, but wouldn't your flint steel or your lighter work just as well?”

I allowed that point.

“Quite likely Ivan, but it won't be nearly as much fun!”

And a quick twist of the primer and toss later, and the wet wood was covered in small amounts of napalm and burning merrily. Now we could all take our hands out of these stupid stiff gloves and dry out. And right at the edge of camp was enough wood for the entire night. I was lazy myself, but not lazy enough to freeze.

I settled in while my staunch companions eased their way back to the circle of light. Since no one else thought to, I took out my bag of pebbles and set them close enough to soak up heat; I'd use them to line my sleeping gear later. That's what I brought them for, after all. I bet Ivan had a set, he seemed to recognize them. Alicia looked a little lost, and chalked me carrying small smooth rocks around as if I was insane.

Well I was, but not about this at least.

Day one down and no one dead; small steps I guess.