Willamette’s was a quiet little inn on the second highest level of Tellan. It was made of stone, like almost every building in Tellan. Once, when it had still belonged to Willamette, it had been painted in bright greens and yellows and whites after the flowers that grew far below in the Blavan Plains.

Inside, a fire crackled against the chill of early autumn, staining the heavy stone fireplace with soot and ash. The fire glinted off old, pale, heavy tables and chairs and illuminated Arin, sitting behind the bar, reading a book.

Arin owned and ran the inn, named after her late wife. She was pale and skinny and a little hunched, her hands shook a little as she leafed through her heavy book. In some ways, it was lucky that Willamette’s wasn’t busier: Arin wouldn’t have had the patience for it.

Willamette’s single patron sat on the wide veranda out the front, which could only be reached by going through the taproom, in a pile of cushions. Wirrin lounged in the freezing morning air, sipping a steaming mug of marjoram, apricot, and honey tea.

She gazed vacantly down the wide steps of Tellan at the Blavan Plains, where the last harvests were starting. She was tall and tan and muscular, wide and heavy, with round cheeks, a wide nose and piercing, brown, monolidded eyes.

Terman could have been forgiven for thinking Wirrin didn’t notice him as she didn’t acknowledge his wave from the front door of Willamette’s. He almost tripped on the steps up into the taproom in his hurry and waved dismissively at Arin, who hadn’t been planning to get up from her seat.

With a huff, Terman slouched into the cushions near Wirrin. Wirrin didn’t look away from the view. ‘What can I do for you, Terman?’ she asked, in that quiet way that made Terman feel bad for interrupting her peace.

‘Trio come down from Esbolva,’ Terman huffed. He was trying not to pant from his run up from the caravanserai, he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Wirrin. ‘Got money, going into the mountains.’

Wirrin nodded slowly and sipped her tea. ‘You thought I’d be interested?’

‘Got money,’ Terman said again. ‘A lot of it. Reckon they’ll be out a while. Immeran trying to talk to them. Gar and me got them held up for you.’

Wirrin finally looked at Terman. ‘How long?’

‘They said months, maybe into winter.’

Wirrin nodded. ‘Leaving?’

‘Today, if they can find someone.’

Wirrin sighed and gulped down the rest of her tea. ‘Best get to it then.’

Wirrin left the mug on the counter as she hurriedly followed Terman out of Willamette’s. Though she knew the way, she let Terman lead her down the backways and jumps down to the bottom north of Tellan, where the caravanserai was filling up with caravans heading north and south.

The trio from Esbolva weren’t hard to spot among all the morning chaos. They were straight-backed and well-dressed. Their boots looked new. And they were staring down their noses at Gar.

Immeran, who was talking to a caravan leader heading north, threw up his hands when he saw Wirrin. ‘Well fuck me then, I guess,’ he loudly proclaimed before storming off.

‘I got her, I got her,’ Terman called to Gar.

Gar turned with a graceful gesture and a wide smile. ‘Here she is.’

The trio from Esbolva were young, that’s what Wirrin noticed first. They weren’t as young as Terman, but they were close. In their mid-twenties at the oldest. Two men and a woman, all with similar, smooth faces.

‘Are you Wirrin, then?’ the woman asked, voice strong.

‘I am.’

‘This man has been regaling us with your achievements and credentials,’ the woman said, nodding to Gar. ‘We are in need of a guide, to take us into the mountains.’

‘Well that’s very nice of you, Gar,’ Wirrin said.

Gar grinned his gap-toothed grin. He was not so young.

‘We expect to take at least two months,’ the woman said. ‘Perhaps longer.’

‘We’re searching for something,’ the shorter of the two men said.

‘So you’ll be wanting someone to catch food for you,’ Wirrin said. ‘And find the safest path into the snow?’

‘That’s right,’ the woman said.

‘And you haven’t considered waiting for summer?’ Wirrin asked.

‘We can’t wait that long,’ the taller of the two men insisted.

‘It’s cheaper in summer, is all,’ Wirrin said. She plastered a thoughtful look on her face. ‘More than two months from the start of autumn, huh?’

‘We have plenty of money,’ the woman said. ‘We’ll even pay you an advance, for supplies.’

‘Well that’s very generous of you,’ Wirrin said, pulling her face into more of a frown.

But before she could even think to barter, the shorter of the two men pulled a small, leather bag from his coat and offered it to Wirrin. Bemused, Wirrin took it and looked inside. It was a genuine struggle not to laugh.

‘A hundred when we make it back alive,’ the woman said.

Wirrin managed to keep her mild frown and not start choking. ‘Well, if it’s so urgent, we’d best be on our way. What are your names?’ She tucked the bag into a pocket at her waist and began to circle the trio.

The woman didn’t so much as turn her head to watch Wirrin. ‘I’m Alina,’ she said. ‘And these are my brothers, Leran’ – the shorter – ‘and Hest.’

Leran followed Wirrin with his head, not straining himself to watch. Hest turned all the way around to keep facing her as she circled them. Their bags looked lightly used, but their ropes and picks and crampons looked shiny and new.

‘You’ll need more food,’ Wirrin said. ‘Pemmican. And warmer clothes.’

‘We have enough food for a month,’ Alina said, as Wirrin stopped in front of her.

‘You have enough for two weeks,’ Wirrin said. ‘You’ll need more. We’ll meet at the Church at noon and leave then.’

Alina nodded. Hest scowled.

Wirrin turned on her heel and started back toward Willamette’s. Terman and Gar followed her, leaving the trio to fend for themselves in the rapidly emptying caravanserai.

Only once they were certainly out of sight of the caravanserai did Wirrin start chuckling.

‘Well?’ Terman asked, leaning in, excitable as ever.

Wirrin pulled the purse out of her pocket and opened it wide enough to show the two of them. Gar joined in the chucking and Terman nearly choked.

‘For an advance?’ Terman coughed.

Inside the purse were twelve shiny, gold coins, crisply stamped with crossed a flower upon crossed hammers. Wirrin pulled out two and handed one to Terman and one to Gar.

‘Only seems fair, since you helped me get them,’ she said. Ten gold coins would have paid her well enough for the whole trip, even a trip twice as long in the dead of winter.

‘And they said a hundred more when they get back?’ Terman’s eyes were glittering. Normally he would get a silver or two for helping Wirrin land some work.

‘Even if they’re lying, I won’t be too put out,’ Wirrin chuckled.

Gar tried to bend the coin in his hands. ‘Pleasure as always, Wirrin,’ he said. ‘Good luck dying in the snow.’

Wirrin grinned, bringing out the wrinkles around her mouth and eyes and forehead. ‘I appreciate that, Gar,’ she smiled. ‘Good luck feeding all your children through winter.’

Gar grinned back, his already wrinkled face folding itself into a map of a happy life. ‘I won’t need the luck now, will I?’ He held up the gold coin as he split off on the second level with a wave to Terman.

‘Mum’ll be so pleased,’ Terman said, smiling as they reached the next step. ‘I’ll tell her hello from you.’

‘Make sure she stays warm, alright?’ Wirrin said, smiling. She’d known Terman’s mother when they were both teens, before she’d left Tellan the first time. Terman had been six when she’d finally gotten back.

‘Will do,’ Terman called, finally free to hurry again. He rushed off into the city.

Tellan was built on wide, tall steps up the side of a small mountain. Seven steps in all, bridged by various staircases along its length. It defied expectations by not being a particularly stratified sort of place, though the top level was affectionately referred to as the Hermit’s Step.

Wirrin climbed back into Willamette’s, where Arin was still reading her book.

‘You’re in a hurry,’ Arin said, finally looking up.

‘I’m not in a hurry,’ Wirrin smiled. ‘I have work.’

‘Oh?’

Wirrin put a gold coin on the counter. ‘Some spoiled rich kids want to go into the snow for a couple of months.’

Arin stood, stiffly, and took the coin. ‘You planning on staying once you get back?’ She made some notes in a ledger behind the bar. ‘You know you’re paid ahead for over a full year, right?’

Wirrin shrugged. ‘What else am I going to use money for?’

‘Nice clothes?’

Wirrin chuckled as she made the short way up to her room to gather her things: bow, knife, rope, pitons, crampons, picks, shovel, hatchet, pans, sleeping rugs, a couple of sets of warmer clothes, and some soap. Once she would have travelled light, relying on her ability to hunt, but as she got older, she found she liked carrying cooking utensils more than she liked walking fast.

‘May the Light guide your travels, Wirrin,’ Arin said, still standing behind the bar. ‘And Health keep you strong.’

Wirrin smiled, she could appreciate the thought, at least. ‘Think how disappointed I’d be if Light had been there first,’ she said. ‘Oulvegesi atev tebal.’

Arin’s face pinched. Not only did she not like how flippant Wirrin was about the Gods’ blessings, she didn’t like when anyone spoke Estanen around her. ‘For now,’ she said, flatly.

‘I’ll see you in a couple of months, I’m sure,’ Wirrin said. ‘Buy yourself some nice, new books or something.’

Arin’s smile was more genuine this time, pulling soft wrinkles and crow’s feet all over her face. ‘Alright, fine,’ she said. ‘Try to be safe.’

‘I’ll try.’

Next was a trip back down to the bottom step for food, dried tea and some spices and salt. Even when she was young, Wirrin would at least bring some spices and salt with her on her travels. What use was bland food, after all?

She regretted telling Alina to meet at the Church building when she was early and had to wait nearby. At least no one came out to try to talk to her.

The Church Building in Tellan was small and barely counted as being a part of the town, off the side of the steps as it was. Like all the Church buildings Wirrin had seen, it was pentagonal, stone, and grim. The chased copper signs either side of the door had been green longer than Wirrin had been alive. On top, a love-heart surrounded by wavy sun rays, below it a flower over a crossed sword and hammer.

Wirrin had thought, many times, about possible redesigns for the Church’s symbol. Having two levels to the design really made it look like some of the Gods were less important than the others.

At the very least, the rose should be in the sun, not the heart.

Wirrin’s design musings were thankfully interrupted by the arrival of Alina and her brothers. They were wearing the same, dark red, dyed hide clothes they’d been wearing in the caravanserai, but at least their packs looked significantly heavier.

The only thing about getting out of the city that Wirrin wasn’t looking forward to was eating pemmican for a month.

‘All ready?’ she asked, by way of acknowledgment.

Alina nodded, followed shortly by Leran and Hest.

‘Best get going then.’