Vesna Kruger hadn't set foot on Ember Pass since the avalanche took four clients and her guiding license. Now she stood at the trailhead in borrowed crampons, breath fogging, while a man named Doru loaded heavy crates onto her sled by lantern light. "Don't open them," he said, and pressed a thick roll of banknotes into her glove. "Get them over the pass by dawn. No questions." The money was more than she'd made in two years. She tightened the sled straps and looked up at the dark mountain.

Vesna took the money and started up the trail without a word. A deal was a deal. She'd haul the crates, collect the rest, and never see Doru again. The sled scraped over the first rise as the lanterns of the town shrank behind her.

Two hours up, a light flicked on across the valley, then another. Lanterns. Someone was following her tracks in the snow, moving fast and in a line. These weren't lost hikers. They knew exactly where she was going.

Vesna doused her lantern and pushed the sled off the trail behind a boulder. The followers passed close, four of them, whispering Doru's name and a price. They weren't his men. They were here to take the crates from her.

Vesna waited until the four passed, then doubled back down the mountain with the sled, taking the long ice route they'd never expect. By gray dawn she reached the far drop point. Doru's partner counted the crates, all sealed, and paid the rest. She walked away rich, tired, and done with the mountain for good.