And now we were headed back to France. Plague wasn't with us this time, she had been sent somewhere else; Gloom hadn't told me when I asked, and I hadn't pushed.

Ivan was technically in charge now, because no one in their right mind or otherwise would give Alicia her own team. One of the two had the trigger to my lovely new fashion accessory, the bomb collar.

I wasn't going to do anything about it of course, but it was something to note. If either of them wound up dead, or even worse, became compromised, I was going to have a bad day.

So why were we headed back into France so soon? It seemed that in some nowhere village in southern France, rumors of a certain witch had spread. A certain which who used blood based rituals, according to the sites the locals had found.

With luck, it would be Suspira. While other witches used blood rites all the time, blood was her specialty. I really wanted Suspira's head on a plate. The problem is, she was another strong one, like Riddle was.

Truth told, she was probably stronger. My team would likely never have been sent after her alone before skirts became part of my uniform - not that I was bitter or anything. She had a larger body count but usually played with people less, preferring to just kill them.

It made the case that the witch the locals had found wasn't her, because they were still alive. Still, she could be playing the long game, so it warranted a strong team rather than rookies to follow up on, lucky us.

I wouldn't really care, but... France. Again.

Of course Gray was having the time of his life; his little face plastered to the train car window, drinking in the scenery while I drank a few other choice things.

I was alone in the car; Ivan had opted to grab water of all things, and walked out, muttering something about checking inventory; he was taking this leadership thing way too seriously. Alicia was somewhere - didn't know, didn't care.

The train didn't run all the way to this out of the way hole in the forest we were going to, so we would have to hike more than a few miles through cheese country. I wasn't really looking forward to it - but someone had to do it.

Maybe I'd get a chance to take an actual break after this one; I wanted one, suddenly. Well, I wanted something anyway, I wasn't sure what.

Lemonade would do for now, even if it was clean of any of my choice additives.

In front of me was a book; one that didn't even have pictures. I'd been staring at it for awhile; even if I were into books, this one would lose me after a sentence. Or make me fall asleep.

I really needed to read it though, even if all the sentences were like 'from the zen state, turn South counter clockwise, then face the North point and press your palms together.'

No joke, it actually said that. It was a book on magic, after all. I wasn't sure how to feel about not being able to make any sense of it; but it was all Greek to me.

I had gotten it from Central's library; the hunt still kept a few, to better educate us hunters. Most hunters burned such books in the field because they were a valuable resource to all witches; even mortal enemies had been known to ambush hunters who killed their rivals to get a book. Central had a rather amazing library under lock and key anyway.

This book was a suggestion. One could even say it came highly recommended; it even had some good hints on what we were likely to run into.

But all that did not change the fact that Ivan and Alicia both were elsewhere as long as it was open, and my nose was in it. I had to admit that reading was unnatural, but they were taking the revulsion a bit too far.

When I read, I learned new words. I wasn't sure what revulsion had to do with blood magic circles of protection, but I'd figure it out. It might be something I could use though, if the worst happened.

As long as I didn't get the squiggles wrong. Bad things would probably happen if I did.

"Why are you even bothering with such tripe, Sasha?" Gray asked. Somehow in my ruminations he had snuck up on me and was reading the diagram over my shoulder.

"Because it may come in handy later."

"But it's all dependent on the mind the ideas came from. If you want a circle of protection, you'll provide it yourself. The power is yours, not some foreign gods or spirits. Your abilities do not work that way."

"But other witches are, well, witches. They use stuff similar to this, and can even learn from each other."

"You are not most witches, Sasha, and all are different. You know this. Some are similar enough to share ideas, but this book? Wasn't from one similar to you. Aside from recognition, which you already have, the book is a waste of time for you."

"Well, that's all I really need to hear." I mean, I knew it, but it was good to get a second opinion.

I tossed the book in the corner. It had been something to do, but if reading it would lead to bad habits, I'd rather just sit and clean my pistols. Of course my new pistols didn't need it, being crazy magical science or whatever, and my old pistols didn't need it because they had been cleaned already, but the act of checking them over gave me something to do.

The train slowed as I was finishing up. The village of Frejas, on the coast, if I remembered my map right. A very old place. We had to go inland from here, because our target was Mont Vinaigre, a very commanding mountain that had a tiny little village on top and bad roads. It was almost predictable as another witch habitat, being tiny and remote.

Too obvious really, anyone who had been in the game long enough would realize that. But then again, witches kept falling for it, so maybe there was something to it after all? Maybe one day I'd find out.

Ivan opened the door and walked up to snag a bottle. "We're here Sasha, time to go."

I grabbed my own bottle. Hard lemonade, I wanted it and it was here. Ivan's eyebrow rose and I stood there for a moment, daring him to say anything.

He didn't, so I left to get my gear. The gear I may not really need, it Gray was to be believed. I'd still be taking it, because even if I could just fly up the mountain and fly back, my team couldn't, and they might need my stuff even if I never did. Plus I wasn't leaving my old pistols here; just like at Central, if I wasn't there they might vanish.

The things I worry about now; no one would even have dreamed of trying to take my guns before.

Maybe it was just putting boots on French soil again, maybe it was the point that I was stepping outside a train for the third time in a month, staring at a wooded path into the country, but this suddenly felt like all the times I'd done this before. I felt tired, for some reason, even though I hadn't been awake all that long really. Weary, that was the word.

It didn't matter, what I felt. I had a job to do.

It was lucky that we didn't need to go into town.

"Hey, can we stop in at the town? We can see if they have anything interesting in their shops."

The decision whether or not to shop was out of my hands. But good for all of us Ivan was closer to me than Alicia.

"Maybe when we come back; we don't need anything now, and I don't want the witch getting away."

"So the train's staying?"

"Yep," That wasn't really odd, but it did mean nothing else really important was going on. Either that or someone was pulling a string in case we needed a quick getaway.

Pulling out of a station with an angry mob on our heels had only happened once, I swear, it happens one time and no one ever lets you forget!

Okay, so maybe Twice if you counted that time in Morocco. But come on, no one ever counted Morocco.

Whatever, just let it go. A trail ahead of you, just like all the other times before, one foot in front of the other, scanning for threats.

Wait, I didn't need to just use my eyes to scan for threats. "Ivan, permission to do a thing?"

Despite the fact that we could clearly see the village behind us (it made a rather nice backdrop) no one was around. Ivan made sure and nodded.

"Sure, as long as it isn't explosive."

I worked with assholes. "Not everything I do is explosive."

My hat transformed from it's normal floppy self; Gray helped me pull the visor out of my uniform and set it.

There were no human life signs near us, only small animals. I wasn't sure what the range was, but there were no ambushes in the immediate area.

"Creepy," Alicia told me.

I was curious. "What is?"

"That... thing on your head is lighting up, and it feels warmer when you look at me. What are you doing?"

"Scanning for threats. I don't have to just use my eyes anymore. You don't need to worry, it's not hurting you."

"I wasn't worried, I trust you," Alicia told me. We both knew she was lying.

"Don't need to worry so much, this is just another case of 'whack-a-witch.'" Good old Ivan; nothing really got to him. He started off, leading the way.

"They do keep popping up lately, don't they?" I followed.

"They enjoy us slapping them down," Alicia opined.

I couldn't really argue with that, they wanted the punishment.

Fun fact, having space ships up in the sky made it even easier for Gray to spot potential danger than it did for me.

"Sasha, The village appears peaceful. There are humans milling about in it, and none appear distressed."

Or to spot nothing, in this case. "Ivan, the village seems to be fine."

"Right, that's a good thing. We have a contact in it, who can tell us what is going on."

It was the hike of an entire day to get up to just the base of the hill; sunshine and tweeting birds and rustling animals, snapping branches in their haste to get away from us. The trail was clearly marked, and we stuck to it. Our contact met us at the base of the mountain. I pulled off my hat/visor before he spotted us, and shifted it back. Gray helped me hide it again.

He was old, only a bit taller than I was, and more grizzled than anyone I had ever seen. He had a bunch of scars across his face (claw marks) and head (giving him stripes of baldness) which I could tell he wore with obvious pride. He was well into the ranks of the white haired, but his back was unbent and he was still sporting enough wiry muscle to make people half his age jealous.

And he wasn't French, that was a plus.

"Well, if it isn't Central's best team." British, and sarcastic. I could work with that.

"That would be Gloom's team, but yeah we're pretty good."

He turned to look at me. "Sasha Norre - you seem... different in person."

Jerk. "Crap happens. And you are?"

"Warren. A businessman, lately retired."

Yeah, I didn't believe that for a second. "Sasha,as you noted. That's Alicia, and that's Ivan. What do you have for us?"

This guy still believed I was in charge, or was willing to act like it, so I'd let him.

"Pleased to meet you all. What I have, is a problem. There are some caves, or catacombs, or both in some cases, beneath the mountain. They are relics of some old war or another, and the police regularly patrol them. During one of those patrols, several circles, drawn in blood, were found in a few of the chambers, along with sign of recent habitation.

The police themselves are baffled, as there have been no disappearances or even reports of strange activity, so they called me in. And I of course, called in the hunt."

So, same old crap, different day. Witches always found old ruins or catacombs or graveyards or some other out of the way place to set up shop. Or tried to take over small towns or villages in out of the way spots. They all did it, and it just got so old.

"Lead the way," Ivan told him when I didn't.

He started visibly and turned from giving me a second look. Yeah, he knew something was up. At least he wasn't trying to piss me off yet.

"This way," Warren told us, setting off on an overgrown trail, silent as a whisper.

We matched him and eased our way through the forest. He didn't talk, something I was grateful for.

Warren led us halfway around the base of the mountain along a few different deer trails before parting some cut brush to reveal a massive steel door, thick with rust. It had one of those wheel things you turned to open it, and he spun it to the left and tugged.

The door slid wide, making less sound than we did. Warren answered my raised eyebrow with a shrug, so not his doing.

Wherever we were, Warren felt safe enough to pull out a small flashlight and turn it on. A casual piece of technology; we used small torches, and following his lead we broke them out. I didn't exactly like it, but without some source of light we'd be totally blind; just past the door there was no other source but us.

I also broke out the chalk; standard procedure in dealing with potential mazes of tunnels. I spotted Alicia doing the same; there was no need for both of us to do it, and I normally did because I was the fastest to get armed. Well, that and Alicia hated chalk dust on her hands.

It wasn't that big a deal, really. She made her first mark, a stylized arrow leading in, which would hopefully show any signs of tampering, and on the opposite wall I made my own much more simple arrow.

"You know, the passages are all clearly marked," Warren commented idly, at full volume.

I answered in kind. "Better to have it and not need it, then need it and not have it. Sign posts have been tampered with before."

The signs were in German, judging from the first one, which seemed a little odd. The walls were thick gray concrete that was crumbling away from it's metal bones, and maybe had been for longer than Ivan had been alive. Certainly whatever war this place was a relic from had been a distant one. Which one I couldn't say, the Germans and French hated each other.

That had begun when people were still using sharpened sticks to fight, and witches were only legend or rumor.

Three lefts and two rights later, Warren stopped, shining his light on the first evidence we'd seen of why we were called.

It was a symbol for certain, something deliberately painted. They were even painted in blood, going by the smell. But that was where any similarity to the painting I normally saw in my job ended. This crap wasn't even anything like what I'd just read about.

For one thing, it was in French, not Latin, and while I didn't know every word, I knew enough. For another, it was painted poorly, on a wall, and the blood allowed to run. That was a really big no-no for this kind of thing. And lastly, it mentioned the "four elements" and "the God of between" when both were clearly wrong.

Ivan looked to me. "What do you think?"

"What do you think?" I returned.

"Looks bogus to me," Alicia told us, unasked. "Something like this would be worse than useless against a witch or familiar."

"I see," Warren said. Probably more to say anything at all. I kind of hated people who did that sort of thing.

"Yep, this thing is pretty much bad, or whoever painted it is dead somewhere. There is no way Suspira made this."

Warren paled. "Suspira?"

So he wasn't told. Oh well, operational security wasn't something I really cared about. "Suspira was listed as the likely suspect for this. I no longer think it likely."

"Well, there is more. It could be a new witch, just coming into her own."

"It could be," I replied as neutrally as possible. After all, I had some pretty good insight into the mind of a freshly minted witch. Far more than I was happy with, and this seemed nothing like any of it. "lead on, McDuff."

Warren gave me a stare before shrugging and moving on. What was his problem?

Another left, another right, and a gentle curve right and down led us to a large room, empty of everything but trash. Remains of old food containers, old boxes, and old bones sat side by side in the corners, while crudely made tables lined the center - inside a series of circles that were painted at least a bit more neatly than the first we saw.

Also in French, the same words and markings for the most part, designed to ward off nothing, or to protect nothing. Gray rushed ahead, collected some of the blood in a little tube and inserted that in some kind of machine.

"It's deer blood, Sasha."

Well, that pretty much ruled out witch, even a young one. Any real witch would use human blood, even if it was their own.

I made a point of inspected one circle closely. "This blood doesn't even look human. No witch made this."

"How can you tell, in this light?" Warren asked.

"Practice," I told him to cover my tracks. Everyone expected a hunter to be able to do things like this, and it occasionally came in handy to fake it. Not that they were wrong or anything, we were all pretty bad-ass.

Ivan and Alicia probably suspected the truth at least, but Warren was totally fooled.

"If not a witch, then who?"

"I don't know, but it's way too messy to do anything. If someone tried to use this, you'd have found the body. All I see here are deer and rodent bones, brushed off into the corners, which point to a likely source for the blood. Then there's the deer skull mounted in a place of honor on that northern wall. If it were a witch, that skull would be human; they don't usually off wildlife."

"Who then?" Warren asked, right on cue. "This is too fresh to be an old haunt for someone."

"Right, this has been painted over a few times, the last time was maybe weeks ago," I turned to Ivan. "What do you think, our turn again?"

Ivan nodded. There was always a group a year, usually stupid idiot kids that had nothing better to do and no one capable of teaching them anything. So they would form a group of witch groupies, hold seances and do other half-baked occult crap, and basically act like jackasses until they either got our attention - or the attention of an actual witch.

Usually in either case, such a discovery ended in blood and tears. We took a dim view of the phrase 'imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.'

Alicia sighed, her breath a breeze to make her beard wave. "Didn't we do it last time?"

"Nah, that was Jenkins, last year, in Austria. We dealt wit it two years ago now, in Spain."

Two years already? Where had the time gone?

"Is someone willing to let me in on the joke?" Warren asked, not quite glaring at me. Clearly he wanted me to do it.

"Every year or so, somewhere around the world, a group of idiots crops up. They aren't an actual group or anything, there's no structure and they don't know each other, but usually a group of idiots falls to the 'evil is so amazing, let's side with it' lure, you know, like some British do with vampires."

"Dear God, really?" Warren's surprise was pretty much the response everyone had when told that little gem.

"Really. The hunt doesn't really say anything because the one time you find something like this and expect morons, you'll get a witch, but it does happen. The culprits here are probably in your village. If we're lucky, they're just kids, but stupid adults exist too. The group we got ahold of in Spain were actual cultists, worshipping witches as gods."

I hadn't liked them much - and come to think of it, they hadn't liked me either. There was some irony in that.

"Well, that's a bit of a pisser."

I couldn't agree more. "Yeah. So, let's go find your gaggle of idiots."

"Wait, shouldn't we explore a bit more? Just in case this is all some witch, trying to pull fast one?"

I fought to keep my eyes from narrowing. And after I'd just explained to him that Central had kept such things under wraps, too. It was like he was waving a flag or something.

"Fine, let's search a bit more. It can't really hurt."

Warren led us around by the nose a bit longer, but of course the only thing we saw was more of the same.

The last straw was Warren trying to point out the same exact badly copied circle on a wall next to an old shattered cannon as the first one as evidence again.

"Nope, no witches here man, we've seen the whole place, or enough as makes no difference. So, about that town."

Warren sighed loudly enough to scare off the rats. "Right, fine. I was hoping you were wrong. Knowing that our kids - that my daughter could be - doing something like this is... well, I've had more fun days."

Good recovery. I might even believe it, at least for now. Warren started leading us back the way we came.

"So, is there a tunnel that leads further up, into town?"

"No, the entrance I led you too is the closest."

That sounded like more bs to me, but again, I let him. It was Ivan's call now, not mine.

We were led out with a good view of all our arrows, none of which had been tampered with. Back outside, the gentle climb became steep, and in some cases almost straight up. There was no trail or road here.

There was a wall, once we hit the village limits. A small wall, about as tall as I was, made of uneven stone piled up and glued together with some kind of mortar or cement. We worked our way around to the back entrance, which faced an almost sheer cliff. There was a trail, but it would be very hard for someone attacking the place to use it. Down was easier than up.

The village itself was like most we saw in our line of work; another postcard village with amazing scenery and very old houses that were always too small and drafty when you actually blew all of your money to come and got to see the inside of them. Another poor place that passed itself off as something more than it was.

The graveyard was much bigger than you'd expect for a village this size, even one as old as this one.

People were rushing around, enjoying the crisp cold air and sunshine, doing their random thing... which seemed to involve a lot of weaving wool. There wasn't even a single visible sheep.

We were met at the gate by a bent backed old man in a nice long coat. Next to him was a very proud member of the french wannabe hunter squad, all spit and polish on brass and gold. Neither were armed, and neither looked happy to see us stroll up.

"Good afternoon, noble Hunters," The old man said, bowing low. "I am Tollini, mayor of this village. I hope the day finds you well."

I hung back and let Ivan take the lead. "It does, honored elder, though our recent visit to your catacombs has burdened our hearts."

Ivan knew how to lay it on thick - but in this case it seemed to work; these two were lapping it up.

"How so? Does a foul witch plague us?"

No witch was going to plague the gathering or weaving of wool. It would be pointless to tell them that, however.

"No, the calamity which befalls you is far more insidious than a mere witch. It is a witch-cult. Those who would be servitors of a witch bound together in unholy acts done in their names."

I found myself mouthing the words behind a hand. 'The calamity which befall you'? What the heck?

The wannabe hunter sighed and slumped, while the old guy looked more concerned if anything.

"A witch-cult? But we've no missing, no dead."

Yeah, no more flowery speech. "It is our belief they are kids, led by kids. The circles investigated are drawn crudely in animal blood, and so far no infernal powers have been drawn upon. It might be that the cult itself is harmless, however there is always a chance that any such delvings could draw the wrong kind of attention. It's best for that reason to root out such things as soon as possible."

The french hunter was looking at me in a way I did not like; there were faint stirrings of recognition in it as his eyes flicked from my face to my chest to my guns and back again. I was pretty sure I hadn't seen him before.

The old guy mulled it over. "But how? I will not condone the hurting of my people; they have done nothing wrong."

Wow, for an old guy, this one was pretty innocent. If all the people here were like this, there could be a hundred witches here and none would be the wiser. The three of us that knew better shared a look.

"Well, one of the oldest of all hunter tricks could help us here," Alicia stated. "Startling the quail, so that one may see them."

"What do you need us to do?"

No hesitation at all. So innocent, so trusting.

"Call your village together. You have a square?"

The old guy nodded.

"Call everyone into it. Spare none, not even the infirm. We will help you if you wish." There was no way he would take us up on that offer, it was plain to all of us.

"And then...."

"We'll take over," Ivan told him. "Announce us as the hunt once all are assembled, and then do your best to look defeated. Follow our lead."

"It shall be done." The old guy announced, and turned back to his people.

Speaking of his people, the wary stares had already started. I moved a bit outside the gate, right past the ever curious Gray. As hoped, he got the message and followed me.

"Gray, can you use your scanner thing and help us out with this? Point out who is lying, and who isn't?"

I whispered just in case there were open ears about, but he heard me clearly.

"Of course, Sasha. You could do the same, with your visor. Measuring galvanic skin response, vision, and blink patterns is trivial."

"Maybe so, but I can't do it without being seen. You can. So I'm counting on you to catch anyone we miss, alright?"

Gray saluted. "Understood; no lies shall escape us."

"Thanks."

Gray gave me a weird look, then ran off - I guess to get ready. I stayed put, holding the old wall up, wondering why I said thanks to a space alien voice in my head.

I took a long pull off my lemonade. It was changing me, but how? And how much?

No, I refused to second guess. I was who I was, I did the things I did, I had done the things I had done. What was that word, where you dissected the past. Whatever it was, I wasn't falling for it.

Ivan came to get me. "All ready in the square. We could use an extra pair of eyes."

I knocked back another mouthful of lemon. "Sure."

Four sets were better than three.

The square was a bit further in, and had another wall, of all things, around it. This one was about three feet high, all piled loose stones with wooden framed gates inset in front of the houses and other buildings facing it. I don't think I'd ever seen the like before. Why would they need such a wall here? it didn't serve to keep anything out. Would it keep anything in?

The answer hit me as I looked into the sea of tense faces. Children; this is where they kept an eye on their kids to make sure they didn't wander off or get eaten by wolves or something.

The elder started as soon as I showed, shooting me nervous glance as I took a seat on the wall next to the main gate, my guns as obvious as I could make them without actually drawing.

"These visitors are Hunters," the crowd gasped loudly, as expected. One stout lady even fainted dead away. No one went to help her, so she was probably fine and this sort of thing happened all the time. "They have come to help us with a grave problem."

Ivan stepped up, ever the showman. "You have witches among you."

I took note of faces while the villagers all stared at Ivan with variations of shock. Gray was doing his thing, and Alicia was covering the back of the crowd.

"We are tasked with removing the evil and excising the taint." Ivan intoned, brandishing two of his knives.

There. That kid was calm, and looked just old enough to be a ringleader. Many of the other kids around him were shooting glances his way while trying not to look directly. While the rest of the peons looked at their neighbors in fear, many more were looking directly at him. Too many.

For the moment, I was ignored. Ivan continued.

"Those among you inflicted with this taint should step forward. Otherwise, we shall be forced to raze this town and salt the earth of this mountain."

The shock on all faces was pretty priceless. That was also my cue; I hopped off the wall and stepped forward, patting heads as I passed.

"As you are touched, move out of line, to the right. Over there."

The right was closest to the back entrance, and a very long fall if you missed the goat path. And there was the tension, ratcheted up another notch as people realized what we were about. That we didn't really care about things like due process or evidence.

It was typical (that word didn't seem to fit, but it was close enough) to have one not go when touched; when it happened, I simply drew and pointed at the kid's head.

"Step lively, and join your friends."

He stepped, as do the others I touched on my way by. Gray ad a few I missed; I added them in.

"The rest of you, to the left, over there."

Closest to the main entrance, and safety in their minds. Thus were mothers separated from sons and daughters, husbands and wives, and all that. Even if there weren't actually any adults in my group.

I did question Ivan about leaving me in charge of this part, but it was his call.

"Alicia, do you have the album?"

"I do Sasha."

The album was a small photo album, a few hundred glossy color photos, all of towns, villages, and cities that no longer existed in any meaningful way. I mean, there was rubble, but not much else, and rubble didn't really count. There were graveyards for some of them too I supposed.

"Take this, and pass it around. Each one is a photograph of a city, town, or village... just like this one. They all have one thing in common. They were all destroyed by witches... or by the hunt after witches took them over. I want you to pay special note to all the bodies, and how few escape death. Pay special attention to the names, you'll have heard of some of them. Either way, the towns and people in them end up just as dead."

My voice was authority, but not loud; I didn't want the adults to hear. Not that they would call me a liar if they did, but I didn't need the screaming match for what we were trying to do.

The kid they all looked to stayed calm. "The hunt won't last forever, or even survive much longer!"

Idiot. "You better hope we do. Half those villages, junior, killed directly by witches themselves, just for pissing them off by existing. Now we aren't here to debate; here is what's going to happen. We know you're all involved, and no we aren't telling you how. In a year's time, a hunter team will be back, and if we find any evidence of cult activity, we burn the place down, kill everyone here, and salt the earth. If you leave, we track, find, and kill you; there is no escape from us. We are the hunt.

Alicia will hand out a token. You will wear it, it will cleanse you of any taint if worn for the year. If you do not wear it, we will know. If you do not cease your activities, we will know. You will do as we request, or your people die. Do you understand?"

The tokens were more to save them, not their people. If people saw visible action being taken, some obvious sign f redemption, they would be less likely to lynch or otherwise kill these idiots once we left. It had been known to happen.

Alicia passed out the trinkets while I stood around looking stern. Everyone hurriedly put theirs on except the suspected ringleader kid.

"Put it on kid, or you'll be dead before sundown."

He paled, and muttered at me. "You're younger than me."

Ha. He probably was, physically. "Sure about that, are you? I wouldn't be too sure."

He put the token on; a small crow made of silver. Each team had their own token, to prevent counterfeits and any confusion.

Ours was a relic of my mentor; she liked crows. I'd worn one myself, way back when.

I singled one kid at random. "You, come with me."

He led the way out of the square, a young boy that couldn't be older than eight. "W-w-what do you want?"

"We know we got the ringleader, kid, and we know we got most of the players. What I want to know from you is, did we miss anyone? I have to ask, and I picked you. Don't bother lying."

"N-no, you didn't miss any of us. You kind of added a few. Look, we were just playing, we didn't mean anything by it! We...."

And here came the tears. At least he was telling the truth. Gray confirmed it. "Don't know, don't care. All the hunt cares about is killing witches and their sympathizers."

He gulped and nodded. "Go join your friends."

I could not wait until I knocked the dust of this town and it's people from my boots.

I took the opportunity to stare out over the view. It was a nice one.

"Sasha, your friends are waiting for you." Gray said.

Time to do the rest of it. "On my way."

The village was united again, some showing off their new jewelry nervously to the rest. I got here just in time for the last act.

"Those marked with the storm crow are to be protected," Ivan intoned loudly to the mayor. "If any harm befalls them before their time of penance, their souls will be lost for all eternity. Damnation will be swift to follow."

Translation for those less superstitious: we will know if you kill the ones tagged, and we will take steps, so don't. I couldn't really blame the superstitious, they didn't know about the aliens. Not even Central really knew, come to think of it. Well, I'd hinted at it to some, at least.

Ivan turned to the French wannabe hunter. "Patrol those catacombs. Make sure they decay in peace."

The guy nodded nervously. "It will be done."

Warren looked up. "I can do that."

It was my turn to shine. "No you can't. You'll be coming with us."

The shock in his face wasn't entirely genuine - he knew. "What?!?"

"You know why. Don't make things difficult, I'm annoyed enough at you already."

He took in where my hands were, and slumped. "I won't resist. Can I at least say goodbye to my daughter?"

"Nope!" Alicia replied with false cheer. "We're leaving now."

Wait, we could use this. "Sure, go ahead."

Ivan and Alicia both stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "I'll be coming with you while you do, of course."

He blew a breath, nodded, and set off.

His daughter was sporting a crow on her dark blue and white dress. She was about twelve and sporting pig tails in her dark hair, and just beginning to grow out as well as up. As usual, even for altitudes like this, she wore no hat. Gray gave her the once over and shook his head, so that was one question answered. Warren picked her up and hugged her close.

"Margaret, honey. Daddy's got to go away for awhile, with the hunters. Be a good girl for me while I'm gone, okay? Berty will take care of you, like we planned, alright?"

The tears weren't helping; the kid knew something was up. "I don't want you to go!"

Well, I could help. Kind of. I didn't think on it twice. "It's not his choice, kid. We've got questions for him, and he's got answers. You can ask the Hunt if you need more information."

I almost added more, but no, she would know who to look for when she got old and skilled enough. If she held a grudge, that is.

"Let's go, Warren."

He put his daughter down reluctantly, and gently pried her off when she held on, crying. A large woman stepped up to grab her, and Warren twisted his way back into the gathering crowd, He wasn't quick about it, which was good for him.

We were outside the village, down the main trail and away from the elder's judging gaze before he spoke again, almost too softly for even a trained hunter to hear.

"What gave me away?"

"You tried very hard to sell us on the witch angle back in the catacombs - to try and sell yourself as clueless. We were on to you, even then. However, what clinched it? You knew entirely too much about how the hunt dealt with cults to know so little about the rest."

He mulled that over while I mulled over the lesson. At least I think there was a lesson in the man's desire to protect his daughter outing him. Be damned if I could find it though.