Old Enemies Reunited

"Are you teasing young magic users with that Hand of yours again, Herman?" An older woman, her brunette hair in a tight bun, smirked knowingly as she entered the shop.
Mercer's face flickered from his teasing grin to a grimace of fury and back again so quickly, one couldn't be sure as to whether it had changed at all. "Miranda West. Once again, our paths cross. How have you been, my dear?"
"All the better with your absence, Herman."
Cassie found herself in the ever-awkward position of being in the presence of two people who had known each other for longer than she had been alive. She began to edge towards the door, planning on coming back after this mysterious woman had left.
"You can't still be mad about the tovuu incident, can you?"
West's eyes narrowed at the memory. "No, but I can be about the time you tried siccing a war band of ogres on me."
Herman's eyes twinled in fond reminiscence. "Ah, yes. Good times. Gooood times. Well, if you weren't one of the ogres, at least. Don't go leaving yet, my dear." This last comment was directed at Cassiie, who had almost made her way through the exit. "There's still the matter of that Hand of Glory, if you still want it."
"Well..."
"Don't bother, miss," Miranda said swiftly. "You may not know it, but both this charlatan and I know that a Hand of Glory will work only for the one who removed it from the cadaver. Anyone else who tries to use it just gets a nasty curse."
"Ah yes, you should listen to my dear friend's advice, Miss SinClair." Herman's grin grew calculatingly menancing. "After all, she is the former Wotch."