Shaye wasn't in the habit of chatting up her possible contracts, but since she was going to be spending several hours stuck in a carriage with Cyréne, she had little choice.

Cyrene fished a small blue and green bottle out of her satchel along with a tiny cup. She poured a sparkly liquid into the cup and offered it to Shaye.

"Feel like warming up?"

Shaye shrugged and accepted the shot. She downed it, expecting to feel the burn of alcohol scorch her throat, and was suprised to find it was actually just a pleasant tingle.

"Wow, that's smooth," she couldn't stop herself from saying.

"Thanks," Cyréne said, "it's a bitch to make, but I love it."

She poured a shot of her own and downed it, before placing the bottle and cup back in her satchel. "Let me know how you're feeling in a few minutes. You're welcome to more if it agrees with you."

"Hey, what about me?" Bjorlam asked.

"Maybe when we get there," Cyréne replied. "I'd prefer not to die tumbling down a mountain."

"Here, here," Shaye muttered.

Within a few minutes, Shaye was feeling warmer and pretty good.

"What's in that?" she asked Cyréne.

Cyréne smiled. "It's a secret recipe, but nothing dangerous. Care for another?"

"Definitely!"

Nothing like loosening up your traveling companions to make the trip less awful, Cyréne thought. She handed Shaye the bottle and cup.

"So," Bjorlam started, "how's that Companion of yours Cyréne? What's his name – Vilkas?"

Cyréne rolled her eyes and shot Shaye an annoyed look. "The Companions are doing well, as always."

"You two still an item then?" he continued.

"You're as nosy as a court gossip," Cyréne said sharply, "and we were never an item, just partners."

"Traded him in for the Dragonborn, eh?" he joked.

"Also no," Cyréne said, annoyance apparent, "and also not your business. Why don't you ask Tina here some questions and leave me be."

"Oh, thanks," Shaye muttered as the carriage driver started in on her.

After an hour or so, Bjorlam lost interest in the women's personal lives and began ignoring them while he sang to himself and concentrated, more or less, on the road. Shaye and Cyréne fell into easy conversation about nothing in particular. They both hated Skyrim weather, but agreed that they'd never go back to Cyrodiil. That little blip of conversation had been a bit intense, and left them regarding each other with a certain knowing respect that could only be found by two people running from the past.

Shaye found that her tongue was loosened significantly by whatever was in that sparkly liquid, and was generally answering with the truth more often than not. She noticed, however that Cyréne asked only about things in general and was careful not to pry into her business, which she found refreshing. Dammit Shaye! Don't forget why you're here.

As the sun began to dip low in the sky they ran out of small talk and Shaye couldn't help herself. "Man trouble, huh?"

Cyréne shook her head and let out a huff, "Is there any other kind . . . more pointless?"

Shaye thought about that for a moment and then grinned. "It's definitely the most aggravating kind."

"I'll spare you the details," Cyréne said, with a pointed look at the driver's back. "Are you staying at the inn tonight?"

"Yeah, I planned to. Wanna have dinner together?" What the fuck was that, Shaye?

"Sure, why not?" Cyréne shrugged.

Suddenly they heard the howling of wolves; more than a few of them. Bjorlam made a worried sound and tried to steady the suddenly skittish horse.

"Great," Cyréne said. "Just, great."

Shaye's eyes were round. "That sounded like a lot of them, and close."

Cyréne nodded and stood up in the carriage. "I hope conjuration doesn't offend you," she said, "but even if it does, better safe than sorry."

She closed her eyes and Shaye watched as a glowing swirl of purple and black appeared in each of Cyréne's hands. Suddenly Cyréne smiled, "There you two are! Long time, no see." There was a slight crashing sound a huge spectral wolf appeared with a howl on either side of the carriage. They both looked at Cyréne and wagged their tails.

"Get rid of that pack of trouble-makers will you?" she said.

Shaye could have sworn they nodded before sprinting into the trees.

"What just happened?" she said.

Cyréne looked at her in confusion. "I conjured two familiars. Apollo on the left and Janus on the right."

"No," Shaye said, "I know that part, but you conjured specific ones, and they listened to you . . ."

"Yeah," Cyréne rubbed the back of her neck and sat down. "Conjuration is my favorite school of magic and I'm very good at it. With enough practice, I learned how to search the planes for specific familiars and bring them to me over and over again. It gets easier every time – some sort of bond forms. My theory is that it's like a magical tether, so to speak. Some sort of residual energy gets left behind as a trail each time they come and go. And they become, well, familiar and it's almost like they know me – they definitely understand." She looked up quickly, "Sorry, that's probably more information than you wanted."

"It's actually kind of fascinating," Shaye said. "What other schools do you favor?"

Cyréne shrugged. "I dabble in all of them. Restoration was my grandmother's passion, so it's special to me. Alteration comes in useful occasionally. Illusion doesn't come so easily to me – I have a hard time keeping up the façade, if you know what I mean. Do you have an interest in magic?"

"I'd like to learn Restoration, I guess . . . and destruction."

Cyréne smiled. "Restoration comes easiest to most people, although it tends to expend the most energy. Destruction is its opposite, so they're difficult to master at the same time for a novice - mainly because it gets confusing to find what you're looking for inside of you. I'd be happy to teach you some basics, if you're truly interested."

Just then there was a loud howl followed by snarls and a sizzle off to the right.

"Damn!" Cyréne cursed, "How many of those things are there?"

She pulled the bow from her pack and glanced at Shaye. "Looks like we're going to have to do this the old fashioned way."

Shaye was up and pulling her own bow out. "Yeah it does, I'll take the back."

Cyréne watched the flashes of black through the trees and looked ahead for a break in the tree line. She let her first arrow fly right before the animal appeared and it fell.

"Kill shot!" she called. She let two more arrows fly in the direction of the approaching pack. "How's it going back there, Tina?"

Shaye almost slipped up and forgot her alias – almost.

"I downed two on the road, and one of your wolves just tore the throat out of another one."

"That has to be Janus, then," Cyréne said. "He's not one for unnecessary sparring."

"Uh . . . Cyréne?" Shaye said warily.

Cyréne let two more arrows fly, one toward each side of the road. "Damnation! There must be a dozen of them. What is it?"

"You should look at this."

"I'm a little busy at the moment."

"Well, get un-busy," Shaye snapped. "I think we're in trouble."

Cyréne spun around and followed Shaye's gaze into the approaching darkness. A huge werewolf was barreling down on them.

"Anyone you know?" Cyréne asked, pulling back her bow string.

Shaye's head whipped around in panic, "What?" Surely she doesn't know who I am!

Cyréne shrugged, "I don't judge people, until they give me reason to, and I'd hate to kill someone who isn't out to kill us."

Shaye narrowed her eyes and looked closer. "No one I know, but . . . wait, what's chasing it."

Cyréne closed one eye and gazed down her field sight.

"It looks like . . . Vigilants. Great . . . now I don't know who to shoot."

Shaye grinned, "Not fond of Stendarr?"

"Very fond of him actually," Cyréne said. "I just find it ironic that these prejudiced assholes go around ruthlessly destroying life while claiming to serve the god of mercy." She lowered her bow.

Well, fuck! Shaye thought. I like her.

"Any ideas?" Cyréne queried. "I'd say we have about 60 seconds. And arrows are only going to slow it down."

"Well, Janus hasn't attacked it. That's a good sign, right?"

"I'm not sure. Bjorlam, just so you know the small wolves are dead, but there's a huge werewolf coming up behind us, being followed by Vigilants of Stendarr who are- FUCK!" Cyréne cursed as an arrow flew by her head, "Who are shooting at us like idiots!"

"That makes up my mind," Shaye said.

Bjorlam slapped the reins and they sped up considerably. Shaye and Cyréne both jolted forward and had to grab each other and their respective sides of the wagon for support.

"Watch it, jackass!" Shaye said over her shoulder.

"Wolf!" Cyréne yelled.

It looked up at her.

"Well, there's a human in there," she muttered. "Janus, back home you go!"

She gathered her energy and cast. A fire rune appeared just behind the werewolf and a frost Atronach appeared further down the road startling the Vigilants' horses, as Janus disappeared. Suddenly, the werewolf lunged for the carriage. Shaye and Cyréne dove to opposite sides to avoid it. Both of them drew daggers as it turned to face them. Cyréne brought sparks to one hand. They both instinctively back up a step, eyes never leaving the huge beast.

"We brought daggers to a werewolf fight," Shaye whispered.

"Yeah," Cyréne whispered back, "Fuck City, population us. Nice knowing you."

"At least we'll die drunk," Shaye said, with a sudden giggle.

The wolf snarled making both of them flinch and then collapsed.

"Did you kill it?" Bjorlam yelled frantically.

"Uh, it's down," Shaye said, "but keep moving, we've still got company."