Hahaha! Langdale? What nonsense did they teach you in the capital? If we went to Langdale, we'd pay exorbitant refuelling costs and fight for hub space. No, we're flying to Coldtide. It's faster, cheaper, and nowadays it pays just as well as Langdale does. Hope you brought your warmest coat.

  – Bayarma, Merchant based in Sherpa, Bangna

  The view from the airship was depressing—the old castle had lost its lustre a long time ago, with all the people spilling in from the South, the castle walls had long since outlived their usefulness, and someone had bribed the Council to erect a temple for those ridiculous gods the southerners loved to pray to in the centre of Coldtide.

  Finn's gloved hand was clenched around the railing. This was his home, his temple. It was good to be back, but the issues were apparent even from up here. Norden—his home—was bleeding. And the cause was clear. They had tried to be too much like the south. They had adopted their laws, their way of life, their culture, and where did it get them? Right here—an overcrowded city, drowning in debt, while the corrupt merchants and smugglers get richer and richer.

  "On vacation?" The captain's Bangnese accent was unmistakable.

  "No, I..." Finn started, before he realized the captain had been talking to another passenger. He exhaled. Good. He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.

  He cleared his throat and checked his coin purse. Not bad. He had quite a few Reikhan crowns left over from when he'd bought the ticket in Langdale. He could probably exchange them for crowns somewhere in the city—plenty of Reikhan traders here, after all.

  When the fat woman on the other side of the deck laughed too loudly at a joke the captain had made, Finn rolled his eyes and turned back to look down at the approaching hub. What a job. Flirting with passengers while your subordinates land the ship. When did the captain actually work?

  As they touched down and disembarked, Finn pulled up his hood. It had been a while since he'd experienced Nordan winter, but it smelled like home. Not much had changed since he'd left. Maybe Eirian still made the narwhal scouse on the corner.

  His feet brought him towards Tir Rhydd instead—the district where the rebellion would meet. He had to meet with Uailean. The kid was probably waiting for him. Hopefully, he'd kept the rebellion together. They were so close. If they could catch Vaera, all they had to do was remove Meredith and make a deal with Reikha. Kara would come through. For Vaera in one piece? She'd come through. She owed him for setting her up with Bakkal.

  When he convinced her to build the railroad and Coldtide gained access to it, it would really position them on the map as a trade hub. No more southern influence.

  Everything was going well, they only needed to catch Vaera.

  "Oy, old man." A teenager pushed off the wall in front of Finn. Finn knew the type, young, unemployed, nothing better to do—just the kind of person the rebellion would recruit. Well, it didn't matter who did the job, as long as someone did.

  "You lost?" Another voice echoed through the alleyway from behind Finn.

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  Finn smiled and spread his hands. "Actually, I was on my way to meet your boss. Uailean's people right?"

  The kid narrowed his eyes and took another step closer. "Uh-huh?"

  Finn wrinkled his nose. What? Had Uailean messed up so bad that his lowest lackeys couldn't even lead an ally to him? Or maybe the kid was simply a bit slow. "I'm Finn. The Oracle in the North." There. It pained him to have to spell it out, but he was going to cut him some slack.

  When the boy shrugged and looked past him, Finn turned to look at the other boy standing behind him, his arms crossed. That one didn't look any brighter and only shook his head.

  "Never heard of you." Grinning, the brat stepped closer now. "Got some fine clothes there, though. Probably cost a fortune, hm?"

  Finn spat on the floor. "Brat. I should-" Before he could finish his sentence, the kid had already snatched his coin purse.

  "Southerner money," the boy exclaimed with another grin. "Rich guy coming here to bribe us with your dirty money?"

  Finn felt the impact from a blunt object hitting the back of his head and bit his lip as he fell to the ground. "You idiots!" He reached for the other one but he missed. "Uailean-"

  "Uailean's not here, old man. And if he was, he'd kick your pompous ass."

  A kick landed cleanly in Finn's sternum, knocking the wind out of him.

  The moon's halo was the first thing entering Finn's vision as he came to in the dark alleyway. An eyeball in the sky—the only witness to the crime. His money was missing, his jewellery had been taken, and his body ached.

  "Cursed brats." He spat, and the snow didn't reply.

  Limping, he made his way to the warehouse the rebellion had used five years ago. But what greeted him was what appeared to be a legitimate business renting the space now.

  Over the next few hours, he asked around, he tried old contacts, but it was as if someone had taken all the puzzle pieces and scrambled them. People claimed not to know Uailean, were unhelpful, or simply ignored him.

  Capturing Vaera had been his plan. He'd discussed it with Uailean and the other heads. They'd all agreed to let him handle this. So, why had no one thought to inform him where to go, once he came back?

  The constable's hut appeared in the distance and he chuckled to himself. It wasn't that he'd expected it to have been moved. Bureaucracy and enforcement were the slowest gears to turn after all.

  "Evening," Finn said, nodding at the constable behind the counter.

  The bored-looking yillip adjusted his glasses and glanced at Finn, putting down his pen. A stack of papers was lying to his left, clearly reports to be filled. "Yes?"

  Finn cleared his throat and scratched the stubble on his chin. "I- uh... I appear to have been robbed. It was in the alleyway between Riggen's Square and Fiona's Jaunt"

  The yillip sighed and pulled out an empty piece of paper. As Finn spoke, the pen flew over the page as the constable noted down the details. "Very sorry, sir. We'll try to get your belongings back. Do you live in the city?"

  "Of course, I do," Finn responded, rolling his eyes.

  "What's the address?"

  "I-" Finn blinked. He licked his dry lips. "No, I mean, I used to live in the city. I just got back from abroad."

  "Right..."

  He ran a hand over his robe, realizing how tattered it looked now. The blood on the collar had begun drying. "I must get to Uailean," Finn said finally. He nodded to himself.

  "I'm sure you do, but-" As Finn walked off, he heard the constable shout after him. "Sir?"

  The sun was rising again. Finn wouldn't freeze, his Nordan blood made it impossible. His limbs felt stiff because he'd been sitting in this particular corner for far too long. His breath was shallow because he was conserving energy. And the newspapers he'd used as covers in the night were just convenient.

  He hadn't found Uailean. No one had guided him. If it was a joke, it was the worst kind.

  Movement made him look up and he saw a little kid—black hair, long floppy ears like a bunny, legs that were too long. Definitely a demi-human. Kaninas, they called this version. Finn tried to pull a face, but his face was stiff.

  The kid disappeared again and Finn heard the door of the house he'd been leaning against open and close. Someone other than a little kid was going to find him here. He should probably get to moving. He shifted, but only managed to knock the newspapers off him.

  Another demi-human appeared, an older version of the kid.

  "I need to see Uailean..." Finn heard himself stammer. He sounded pathetic. But it wasn't his fault. Someone had stacked the whole world against him.