Coneti Ordrakha gritted her teeth as she hammered the last iron nail into the doorframe, pinning the hinge down for good.

She stood and held her breath. It was time for the moment of truth.

She gave the front door a quick swing. It swung.

The breath came out in a sigh of relief. It had taken far too long to get new hinges made by the nearest metalsmith, but the rust on the old ones had made it necessary. She could finally put away the curtain she'd been using as a partition, now that the door actually moved again.

She surveyed the place.

The building was for all intents and purposes, an inn and as simple as it got. It was all wooden boards and dusty interiors and candlelit corners. There were a couple rooms upstairs, a couple downstairs, a barebones cellar, and a central room with a counter for serving drinks and three or four tables for drinking and gaming.

Not that there was often any of that. No one needed to come up this far North, so there was only ever the infrequent, irrational stranger. Two of those were in one of the upstairs rooms right now.

The inn wasn't an old buiding, but it had started as someone's cabin. The residents in the town down the road said it had been some years abandoned when Coneti had first asked. Now, it made perfect lodging for those passing through the Belt-Doral mountains or those on their way up the mountains to Syaan's temple.

Coneti busied herself with some final tasks, and eventually, she was at the counter, counting up coins. The sooner she finished with that, the sooner she could take the long hike back up to the temple where her real task lay - preparing the morning meal for the temple denizens, including Syaan's ravenous young disciples.

The mountains were still wrapped in late winter, heedless of the spring that had come to the lands further below, so she wasn't expecting any other guests just yet.

Naturally, the door she'd just installed swung open, a belated gust doused the candles, leaving only two on the counter burning. Three worn down figures in brown travelling clothes walked in.

They smelled of the dirt and snow that built up on those journeying through the mountains here. It was the earthy musk of something wild dragged along by an intruder.

The two in the back seemed to naturally defer to the one in front, and when Coneti saw the shaggy brown hair, dark eyes, and scraggly beard, her heart stopped for a second.

A wolfish grin she knew too well flashed on the leader's face, and she knew they were all Wolves.

Of course, if Coneti didn't miss her guess, this meant they were all armed to the teeth.

The leader stood there in the doorway, gesturing at himself and to Coneti. After several seconds of continued grinning, he stripped off his wandering cloak and sauntered forward. "Connie, Connie! You've been here this whole time?"

He didn't seem terribly surprised to find her here. Coneti slid the coins back into their box beneath the counter. "If it isn't a few faces I never wanted to see again."

"Now, now. Where's the sense in being rude? Let's find a seat." This last part he directed at his travelling companions.

His two followers - she remembered them as Rinsa and... the other she couldn't find a name for - sat down at a table.

The leader approached the three-legged stools at the counter.

"It's been how many... many... ages?" He sat down heavily and erratically on one of the stools, setting it's legs screeching as they scraped back against the floor.

"Not quite so loudly, Lupe. There are guests upstairs, and the sun is low. This isn't like the city."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Lupe stamped his boots so the gravel fell out, then propped his legs up on the counter; the stool leaned back on two legs. "Where are your weapons, Connie?"

"Hung them up. Companions, knives, and all. Don't need 'em." She gave him a look, all sharp edges and smiles that could speak for her. Don't need you.

"Pity. Companions aren't bad, knives... and all." A coin played back and forth between his fingers now. He looked casually around the darkened room, lit only by the falling sun. "Whatever. You know why I'm here. You still owe me."

Coneti watched the glint of his coin as it came in and out of hiding. It was a much more impressive trick even than it looked. Lupe would continually switch out the coin he was toying with. Right now, it was an old viniech, an Amadiene copper. She knew the precision of his hands translated well to knifework. The man could've performed surgery on himself with a rusty cleaver if only he'd been able to tell a heart from a moldy tooth.

She filled a tankard with beer from the tap as Lupe continued talking. "The Protectorate is trading in batons for blades. You know what that means. A lot of money for those with grindstones. Or blades of their own."

"There's money in simple cooking and brewing too." She snatched the coin out of Lupe's hand and replaced it with the tankard.

You probably won't find much use for that." Lupe looked pointedly at his now empty hand, then eyed the tankard suspiciously.

Eventually, he seemed to admit to himself that he needed a drink. Half the tankard's contents vanished. A new coin appeared in his hand not long after.

"But you might find use for a blade. We could certainly use your particular touch."

One of his lackeys spoke. The lanky man had a look like he couldn't remember which end of a sword was which, though she knew he was as deadly as any of them. For her own part, she still couldn't remember his name too well. Glum? "He means you should come with us. There's bounties for beasts, hired swords, and-"

"Thank you, Gulan. I believe she understood me the first time. Listen, Coneti, I did say you owe me. If you're not willing to honour that, I'll be quite upset." He raised his hands in a hapless gesture.

"A favour, Lupe! A favour. I'm not uprooting myself on a whim. That's more than a favour."

"Connie. Wouldn't you rather be the Emptier of Heaven again?"

She slammed her hands down on the counter. "Lupe. I shouldn't be, but I'm grateful for you stopping by and offering whatever job you're pulling. I'm not hearing any more of this. I'm old. I'm in my fifties. You can't seriously think you could just hand me a target, and I was just going to get on a horse and leave with you at my age, did you?"

She slowly, deliberately, relaxed her hands. "For one, I can't even afford a horse."

Lupe smiled knowingly across the counter. Then, he lunged. The coin in his hand was now a knife. Her own hand moved at galeforce speeds. His tankard was in it. The knife clanked, beer splashed in Lupe's face, and his arm careened to one side. She caught the back of it and slammed down, one hand each on elbow and shoulder. Lupe's face hit the counter. The knife clattered over onto her side. His breath exploded out of his mouth. The tankard landed next to him, miraculously upright. More beer splashed out onto the table.

Rinsa and Gulan had jumped up from their seats, but Lupe waved them back. He wheezed in pain a couple times. Then, he laughed sharply. "Too old, is that it?"

"That's it. And that's all. Now are you done fucking around here? That was my last drop of patience. Gone. If anything else spills tonight, it'll just be your blood."

"Oh, there's already some of that." He grinned at her again, and she saw a bit of blood had started to drip from his gums. "I understand you, though. You want to be a hermit like that mountain weird up there. I would respect it, only I don't."

Lupe sat up again and downed the rest of the beer. "That's really your answer, though, is it? It hasn't been so long since you packed up."

"It has. We're done speaking about this. I'm done."

Lupe let the stool fall back into it's normal three-legged stance with a clunk. "Well, you know I can't say I'm surprised. But I am disappointed. I don't think I ever thought you'd retire. I saw you poisoning drinks and sticking knives in chests until your hair had completely grayed. I thought when the Silent Mason came for you, you'd finally be immune to whatever draught he uses to take the dead, and you could kick him in the face. You know. For everyone we lost."

Coneti felt the trembling of adrenaline turn to frost. "You're mixing up your folklore, Lupe."

Lupe just raised his hands again.

"I'll take my leave. We'll leave." He again directed the last bit to the others.

"Anyway, seeing an old friend was just side business. We're actually here doing a little hunting - strange people and beasties alike out there - but set aside a room for us. We'll be back tonight. Us and a friend. Or two. Thank you so kindly." With a bow and a swagger, Lupe left.

She was thankful he left when he did.

And she was even more thankful when she had packed up and started up the trail to Syaan's temple. The last thing she did was leave one of the ground floor rooms open for him and his buddies with some bundled blankets on the bed.

She hiked. A couple flickering lights far up the path guided her way. She hoped Syaan would be awake. She needed someone reasonable to talk to.

She was thankful too that the mountain air cooled her head with every step and every breath.

The press of her hidden blades and the weight of the angel looking over her shoulder had been starting to overpower her.