A fist pounded against the door of the Devil’s Den like the thunder of crashing hooves. It split through the night incessantly, and it brought a small frown to Lillia’s lips. The inn was already at max capacity tonight. It was too late to keep cooking and the kitchen had been shut down; the common room was empty. Everyone who had been waiting in the crowd had already been informed that they’d closed for the day. There shouldn’t have been anyone waiting around at this hour of the night. There were even signs that Reya had made a few days ago set up to inform any potential customers that they didn’t have any more room. I just expanded, but I really need to expand again as soon as I can. I can’t keep up with capacity and we’re pulling in money by the shovelfuls. Still, I suppose I should go let whoever that is know that we’re closed for the day. Lillia set the feather brush she’d been using to clean off the countertop down and wiped her hands off on her apron. She stepped around the countertop and made her way past neatly arranged tables, already tidied up and prepared for the night. It was well into the evening hours and, even though she couldn’t see outside, she knew the moon hung high above Milten. Half the reason she was even still awake was because she was waiting for Arwin to finish up with Olive and Phoenix Circle. They’d all been in his smithy for the latter half of the day. I can’t wait to find out how things have gone. There can’t be that much time left before the Secret Eye announce the tournament’s dates. I’m honestly surprised they haven’t done it already. There must be something holding them up for some reason. Lillia shook her head and made her way across the common room to the door. Whoever was on the other side still hadn’t stopped knocking. She pulled it open, half expecting a hand to whistle through the air where the wood had been a moment before. Instead, she found herself standing face to face with a hunched, dirt-covered man. His clothes were marred with stains and blood; hung from his body like the ragged scraps of a flag. Dark hair framed his face and his features were so sunken that he almost resembled a corpse. Lillia might have taken him for a beggar at the pits of his luck if it hadn’t been for the look in his eyes. There was a darkness deep within them — a determination like that of a falling blade. All the grime and muck was gone from the man’s body. He had been thoroughly scrubbed… and traumatized. “There,” Lillia said. “Isn’t that better?” “What manner of mage are you?” the man asked, staring at her in disbelief. His voice sounded considerably less pained than it had a few minutes ago. For him, it might have just been a bath, but the longer anyone stayed within the Devil’s Den, the more it passively worked to strengthen them. Taking a bath within the inn was a good way to accelerate that. “One who doesn’t like her customers tracking dirt and blood across her floor,” Lillia said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You’re thin as a rail. When’s the last time you had food?” “I cannot afford to waste time—” “Right. You don’t get to make demands when you come banging on my door this late at night. You’ve got two options,” Lillia said. “I unwrap you and you feed yourself — or I shove a sandwich down your throat. Which is it going to be?” The man stared at her for a long second. Then he swallowed. “I am capable of eating myself.” “Good. Stay there.” Lillia snapped her fingers and the towel unwound from the man, spinning him from the seat like a dancer. He staggered, stopping himself against the counter. Before the man could say anything else, she strode into the kitchen. It would be easy enough to toss some food together for him quickly. There was definitely something damaged in the man, and she wasn’t going to have him dying on her before she could figure out why it was he wanted to see Arwin so badly. It doesn’t hurt that I get more control over anyone that eats my food. If he’s a threat… then he’ll be simple to deal with after he’s eaten my cooking. She emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later, armed with a simple ham sandwich. The man’s eyes tracked her as she smacked it down on the counter before him, then arched an eyebrow. This time, he didn’t waste energy arguing. He wordlessly picked the sandwich up and took a bite. Then he froze. His eyes widened and he stared at it for just about half a second before shoving the rest of the food down his gullet in record time. It was gone within moments. “Hungry?” Lillia asked, unable to hide the flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “That was the best sandwich I’ve ever tried,” the man said, staring at the empty plate in awe. “What is this place?” “The Devil’s Den. We aren’t exactly serving dinner at the moment — you owe me a silver by the way — but you’re welcome to swing by for a proper meal any other day.” The man hesitated. “I… don’t have any money right now.” “Then perhaps you can pay by answering some of my questions,” Lillia said with a sly smile. “Starting with why you’re looking for Ifrit. If you’ve got a really good reason, I’ll introduce you to him.” “He’s here?” the man nearly leapt up from the table, but his chair shot back into his legs and pushed him back into a seated position. “I’ve bathed and fed you. You aren’t doing anything other than answering my questions.” The man stiffened. Then his shoulders slumped — not out of defeat, but exhaustion. “I need a healer,” he said. “I am dying. Every healer I have been to is helpless to aid me.” “We have a pretty good healer,” Lillia said. “She might be able to do something. Just what is it you need fixed?” “Okay. That might be slightly difficult,” Lillia admitted. “You’re certain it needs to be replaced? It can’t be healed?” “It is already healed,” the man said with a shake of his head. “And it is worthless. My power. My body. My soul. It is all gone, and it is tied to my heart. I need the smith. Perhaps, should he know who I am, he will help me.” “You knew each other?” Lillia asked in surprise. “No,” the man replied with a shake of his head. “But perhaps he knows me.”