A/N: It's finally here! Shriller is back and (hopefully) better than ever. If you read the original, I hope you'll stay tuned for this rewrite. It's undergone a lot of development, and while some things are the same, it's very different overall. And if you're a new reader, welcome! I hope you'll enjoy it.

Chapter 1: The Prisoner

Last Seed, 3E433

Midnight. Heavy clouds rolled across inky skies, blotting out the last visible sliver of Secunda as silence fell over the world. From where I lay, I could just see the tiniest patch of night sky, but as the cloud cover slowly swallowed up the starlight, I sighed, turning back over onto my side.

The high window was framed with bars and offered little in the way of a view—only a thin, steady beam of light from dawn til dusk, and occasionally, if I was lucky, a glimpse at the stars. But on a night like this, luck was not on my side. Normally I didn't mind the clouds—so long as they brought a storm along with them, but tonight the air was still, thick and stagnant as it hung in my cell.

The swampy air wrapped me in sticky haze of sweat and claustrophobia, and I found myself growing increasingly aggravated as sleep continued to evade me. The patch of sky outside my cell window showed only darkness as I tossed and turned, fighting with my worn blanket as my limbs tangled in it.

"Can't sleep, wood elf?"

I stifled the urge to groan out loud at the sound of the raspy voice, sitting up to glare at its source. Dirty white hair framed the sharp, thin face peering between the bars of the cell across from me, his red eyes glittering in the torchlight.

"Neither can you, apparently," I snapped. Encouraging him was a mistake, but in my foul mood I couldn't resist. His taunts had begun the day I'd been placed in this cell, and although I'd been terrified at the time, they'd gotten old after what I could only assume had been months. It took only a week, however, to discover that he was all bark and no bite. But Valen Dreth's true talent lay in his ability to get under anyone's skin—and he was relentless in his efforts.

Having gotten a rise out of me, he smirked, and I rolled my eyes as I flopped back down. "Missing your days of woodland frolicking? How very sad." He paused, and I could practically hear the grin on his face. "Those walls must feel like they're closing in on you, hmm?"

"For the love of Talos, shut up!" But he was closer to the truth than I'd like to admit. Four steps in width, six in length—I knew the dimensions of my cell very well, having paced them many times—often on nights like this, no less. But I'd worked myself into worse frenzies before, much to Valen's delight, and he seemed determined to never let me forget it.

"Do you feel yourself going mad, wood elf? It's already begun, hasn't it?" he continued when I didn't respond. "How long have you been here? Three months? Four? It'll happen any time now." I gritted my teeth together as my nails dug into my palms, but I managed not to reply. I'd already given him too much. "And when it does, the guards will cut your throat just to stop the ranting, and then they'll toss your lifeless body right into the lake!"

There was a ceramic jug sitting on the rickety little table to my left, and I eyed it from where I lay, strongly considering the temptation to hurl it at him. But that particular jug was intended to hold my water supply throughout the day, and not only it would simply shatter against the bars of my own cell, I would not receive another one until the guards found it convenient to provide one—I'd learned both these truths the hard way when I'd first arrived.

That particular memory was not helping at the moment. Valen's grating voice droned on and on, and I could feel a throbbing pain beginning between my temples. "You're going to die in here, wood elf!" he was shouting, as grumbles of protest rose up from further down the corridor. "You know that, don't you? You're going to die!"

There was also a cup sitting beside the jug, however—and I was perfectly capable of drinking directly from the latter.

I scrambled to my feet, snatching hold of the cup and taking careful aim. Squinting in the dim light, I pitched it forward—only for it to shatter against the bars just the same.

"What is the meaning of this?"

In the din from the other prisoners, I hadn't heard anyone enter—but the impact had just sprayed shards all over the figures in ornate armor who'd just stopped in front of my cell.

I immediately cowered, my jaw dropping in horror. "I…I'm sorry, ma'am," I somehow managed to choke out. "I didn't mean to, I just… it was only an accident…"

"'Only an accident?'" Her lip curled with undisguised rage, stormclouds filling her face. "You dare to attack your Emperor, and all you have to say is 'only an accident?'"

Emperor? But before I could even comprehend the implications, a new voice rang out, slow and thoughtful. "Captain Renault, there is no need." An elderly man wearing deep blue, expensive-looking robes stepped forward from behind the armored figures, and my heart nearly stopped. It couldn't be—there was no way…

But the captain heaved a sigh, rolling her eyes. "Your Majesty, we can't afford not to take every threat seriously—not to mention this cell is supposed to be off limits!" she protested, and the Emperor—the Emperor!—shook his head.

"No," he said, and this time, I thought I detected a tinge of sadness in his voice. He glanced briefly down the hallway, and even in the dim light, I noticed the tiredness around his eyes. "There is no danger here."

The captain shook her head, but didn't argue further. "Very well," she agreed, although she didn't attempt to hide the frustration in her tone. She then turned to me, and I immediately felt myself wither beneath her gaze. "Stand aside, prisoner!" she barked. "Over by the window. We won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way."

I was already skittering backward, tripping over my discarded blanket and nearly falling flat out on the floor as one of the guards began to unlock the gate. I didn't understand what was happening but I knew there was no way the Emperor appearing outside my cell in the middle of the night was a good thing.

They silently filed into my cell, marching over to the far wall, but as the Emperor passed me, his gaze briefly flitted across my own—and then he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening. "You!" he gasped out. "I've seen you."

My heart began to pound faster as I pressed myself against the wall, feeling the stone jab into my back. This entire situation was quickly evolving from 'not good' to 'very, very bad.' I'm sorry, I wanted to say. You've mistaken me for someone else. I'm not who you think I am, whoever that might be. But I remained silent, blood flooding my face with a fresh wave of fear, and I ducked my head as the Emperor's expression of astonishment curved into a wary frown. "Let me see your face." He crossed the cell in three quick strides, and suddenly his hand was beneath my chin, forcing my gaze up to meet a clear, hypnotic stare. He studied me for what seemed like an era, and I watched as his expression transformed from suspicion to one of utter sorrow. "You are the one from my dreams."

He released me, bowing his head. "Then the stars were right," he murmured, seemingly to himself, "and this is the day." He drew in a deep breath. "Gods give me strength."

If there was one thing I'd learned in my eighteen years, it was that the best thing to do in a bad situation was simply to keep your mouth shut. But the Emperor was staring at me expectantly, and although my tongue seemed glued to the roof of my mouth, I had to say something. "I…don't understand."

Clever, I inwardly admonished myself, but his expression softened. "Assassins attacked my sons," he explained frankly, "and I'm next. My Blades are leading me out of the city along a secret escape route, and by chance, the entrance to that escape route leads through your cell."

Oh gods… I slumped against the solid stone at my back, the strength suddenly sapped from my legs. This was all too much. Coming face to face with the Emperor was bad enough, but an assassination plot as well? "What do you want with me?" I demanded. I could hear my voice rising higher, its tone strained and panicky, but he only smiled—albeit a rueful smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You are a citizen of Tamriel, and you, too, shall serve her in your own way. And as for what you have done…" He shook his head. "It does not matter. That is not what you will be remembered for."

I eyed him warily, wondering how he could be certain of what exactly I had or hadn't done. But then again, he seemed to believe that he'd seen me in his dreams. Once more, I felt the urge to speak up, to correct what was clearly a misunderstanding. I was nothing more than a girl who'd made a serious mistake, and I certainly didn't associate with Emperors—in dreams or otherwise. But the captain was clearing her throat, and I felt a hint of relief as his intense stare shifted away from me.

"I'm sorry, Sire, but we really must keep moving," she insisted, tapping out a quick sequence into the bricks. And I stared, aghast, as an entire section of the wall swung inward, revealing the secret passageway the Emperor had referred to. I hadn't doubted him when he'd said it, but still, realizing I'd been sleeping right beside a way out for months was mind-boggling. Not that I would have been able to figure out the sequence, or even that it was there at all—but it was unnerving, and only contributed to the sense of wrongness I'd been feeling since the moment the entourage had stopped in front of my cell door. But his attention had turned back to me.

"You must come with us," he urged, his expression surprisingly earnest. "Your destiny is bound with mine, and with the fate of Tamriel itself." There was an exasperated sigh from the opening of the passageway, and I looked up to see the captain shaking her head as she stared at her boots, although she made no attempt to challenge him.

I hesitated, my gaze darting between the guards and back to him, but he only nodded. "Perhaps the gods even placed you here so that we may meet," he suggested, a small, thoughtful frown crossing his face. "And what path can be avoided whose end is fixed by their almighty ways?" With that, he turned and followed the captain into the passageway.

The other guard huffed, rolling his eyes. "Follow us, then. Just stay out of the way and let us do our duty."

The third guard gave me a scrutinizing glance as he walked past. "Looks like this is your lucky day," he commented offhandedly as he followed the others into the tunnel.

Was luck the right word? I stood there trembling in my prison rags, suddenly a peer to the Emperor of Tamriel himself and facing a fate even more uncertain than the one that seemed to have just disappeared in the blink of an eye. But Valen Dreth had been right about one thing. The longer I stayed in this cell, the more the claws of madness scrabbled at my mind, and if they continued to do so, I feared there'd soon be little left of me. No matter what form my fading chance at freedom took, there was no way I was allowing it to pass me by.

Speaking of the devil himself, he had once again skulked out from the shadows and was watching me from the doorway of his own cell, his expression unreadable. Curiosity? Fear? Jealousy? I didn't stick around to figure it out. But I allowed myself one last moment of childish spite, throwing him a rude gesture before I disappeared into the opening in the wall.

Inside the tunnel, the air was stale, as though no living creature had been present in a long while. It lead sharply downward, cutting deep into the earth, and I struggled to find my footing on the uneven ground in the dark—lest I find myself crashing into the back of the Blade ahead of me. But when we emerged from the tunnel, we were met with pale brick, deep stairways, and high arches, and I felt my interest briefly piqued. Ayleid. I was hardly an expert on architecture, but the towering white structures that dotted Tamriel's landscape were unmistakable, and although I had never actually set foot inside one myself, I had often seen their ruins from a distance.

My thoughts were interrupted as the captain suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, throwing up her arm. "Quiet," she hissed. The other Blades also froze, and my heart sped up as I saw them reaching for their weapons. My ears strained for any hint of what the captain might have heard—was there something down here? Animals maybe? Bandits even? But as it turned out, either of those would have been preferable to the assassins that came bursting from the shadows.

"Close up left! Protect the Emperor!" the captain roared, her words punctuated by the rasps of the Blades unsheathing their swords as they charged forward to meet the assassins in a clash of metal. I gasped, plastering myself back against the wall as my hands rose to protect myself. I struggled to get a grasp of my magic, to call forth any sort of force that might put a barrier between myself and certain death, but I was weak and out of practice, and in my panic, my focus was slipping and I couldn't complete the spell.

The Emperor had drawn his sword as well, and noticing my struggle, he grabbed hold of my wrist and maneuvered himself in front me. His shortsword was nothing compared to the wicked barbs I'd seen on the edges of the assassins' weapons, but his grip was unwavering as he held it aloft in a defensive stance.

I could see little of the encounter with him blocking my view, but I could catch glimpses of movement—and more notably, the noise—or lack thereof. Was it over? I tried to peek around the Emperor, but all I saw was bare stone, and—oh. A limp, crimson-robed figure lay sprawled on the floor—one of the assassins, I could presume.

"Are you all right, Sire?" one of the Blades shouted. "We're clear for now." The Emperor released his hold on me, re-sheathing his sword as he stepped out into the open.

"Captain Renault?" he asked.

"She's dead." The grim-voiced reply came from the other Blade as he appeared from behind a pillar.

The Emperor gave a long sigh, resting his hand on the soldier's shoulder. "I am sorry," he said quietly, but his concern and the Blade's pained expression instantly fled my mind as I stepped forward from the narrow passageway to see the remains of the battle.

It had been short but brutal, as evidenced by the sheer amount of blood spilled across the pristine white stone. Given the numerous red-robed bodies lying where they'd fallen, it was apparent that their armor had been conjured—a protection no less robust than real steel, according to my lessons—but in the end, it'd been no match for the Blades' swords. But their weapons were another story—seeing as they'd been enough to thoroughly smash the captain's head in, leaving bits of gore spattered across the stones.

As I stood taking in the carnage, I felt a hand on my arm. I jumped, but it was only the Emperor. "Protect yourself," he said, pointing to a shortsword strapped to the captain's side. When I only stared at him numbly, he crouched down beside the body himself, the hem of his expensive robe dragging through the spilled blood.

There was a quick noise of disapproval from the Blade who'd announced the captain's death. "Your Majesty," he said, a prickle of frustration creeping through his tone, but the Emperor ignored him, freeing the scabbard from the captain's body and handing it to me as he stood. "There will be more of them. You must defend yourself."

I took it with both hands, hesitating for a moment before buckling it around my waist. Something about the act seemed almost irreverent, but it couldn't hurt to have a blade handy, just in case. Although I had never trained with a sword, solid steel in my hand was far more reliable than the fickle nature of magicka. Besides, I thought wryly, it couldn't get more straightforward—the sharp end was the one that went in your enemies.

There was the sound of a throat clearing behind me. "Here." The other Blade jostled my elbow as he, too, stood from the captain's side. "You may as well make yourself useful. Hold onto Captain Renault's sword." And he passed me the captain's main weapon—the one that had spilled the very blood we were standing in.

There was power in holding a true instrument of death. I shuddered slightly as I took hold of it—even to my untrained hands, it seemed as though the souls it had sundered from the living still danced along the edge of the blade. But despite the grace and ease with which the Blades wielded them, it was heavier than I expected, and my arms briefly buckled before I managed to sling it across my back as though it were a claymore. The Blade who'd entrusted me with it eyed me doubtfully as I did so, and it could have been a trick of the lighting, but I could have sworn I saw him roll his eyes.

"I'm Baurus, by the way," he said, "and that's Glenroy." He pointed toward the brooding Imperial, and I nodded as we set off again, falling into a single file line as we made our way through the ruins. But we didn't get much further before another wave of assassins attacked.

This time, there was no convenient alcove to hide in. I yanked my borrowed shortsword free of its sheath, my arm trembling like a new leaf as I thrust the weapon between myself and the assassins. But they were single-minded in their attacks, charging the Emperor directly only to be intercepted by Baurus and Glenroy before they got there. The Blades' weapons deftly sought out cracks in the assassins' armor and sang through the flesh beneath, leaving only gasping, red-robed husks to fall to the ground.

I was knocked aside in the fighting, plastered against a nearby pillar and petrified with fear. My heart thundered in my chest as one of the assassin's maces swung alarmingly close, missing me by a fraction of an inch, and I was suddenly reminded of the captain, her brains spilled on the floor of an ancient ruin. Out of the other three members of the Emperor's entourage, Baurus was closest to me, fiercely battling two attackers at once. He seemed to be gaining ground, but as he parried a blow to the left, the other closed in from the right, raising a mace in preparation to strike at his exposed side.

My courage suddenly found me with force of a falling boulder, my fear-softened muscles stiffening as the inevitable outcome of that blow flashed before my eyes. With a surge of power I didn't know I possessed, I pushed off from the pillar, launching myself at the assassin's back.

The spikes of his armor dug into the tender exposed flesh of my forearms and calves as I clung to him, and he let out gasp of surprise as he was caught off balance. I instantly realized my stupidity (the sword, I had a sword in my hand, why didn't I use it?) as he flailed for a moment—and then my sense of gravity tilted dangerously as he tipped over backwards, and we struck the ground. Hard.

Somehow, I narrowly missed cracking my head on the stone. That small saving grace was the farthest thing from my mind, however, as my lungs stung as though I'd inhaled nettles and the assassin's weight drove the barbs of his armor into my chest and stomach. But before I could even begin to fight my way out from underneath him, there was an unmistakable blur of steel striking toward me, and I let out a small shriek as it stopped short a few inches shy of my own neck.

I gave a shuddering gasp of relief when I realized I was still breathing, but something wet and sticky was quickly soaking through my tunic. I wrinkled my nose in disgust as I realized it was the now-dead assassin's blood, but the sharp edges of the weight crushing down on me were gone, leaving only red wool in their place. I started to wriggle free, but suddenly the weight was gone, and a furious Glenroy loomed above me, his arm clutched to his side and his features distorted by rage. "I thought I told you to stay out of the way," he snarled, savagely kicking the body aside as he stumbled over to Baurus, who was reaching for his injured arm.

Shaken by both the outburst and the encounter with the assassin, I sagged back down to the stone floor, but a hand appeared in my vision, and I looked up into the Emperor's face. "They cannot understand why I trust you," he explained as he helped me to my feet. "They've not seen what I've seen."

I had been wondering that as well, but I kept my questions to myself, instead probing at one of the welts rising on my arm. "Glenroy doesn't scare me," I mumbled, wiping away the thin line of blood that had bubbled to the surface. In truth, there was something almost comforting about his aggression—he was like Valen in that way, bark over bite. But the Emperor gave a soft chuckle.

"Then you have more courage than most," he said, and I could hear the smile in his words. But when I looked up, a tiny furrow had appeared between his brows. "I wonder," he said thoughtfully, "which sign marked your birth?"

The question was an unexpected one. My brows rose in confusion, but his serious, pondering expression faded to one of understanding as I blurted out, "The Shadow."

"Ah." He nodded. "I see." As if sensing my bewilderment, he elaborated further. "I've served the Nine all my days," he explained, "and I chart my course by the cycles of the heavens. I know these stars well, and the signs I read show the end of my path."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Can you see my fate, then?" I asked dryly, but he only chuckled.

"No. Your stars are not mine. But today the Shadow shall hide you from destiny's cunning hounds."

Despite the senseless nature of the words he spoke, the conviction with which he spoke them was compelling. And despite my own suspicions, a thousand questions were forming on the tip of my tongue: Are you really so certain that you're going to die? How can you be sure? Aren't you afraid? Shouldn't your Blades be the ones you're talking to about this?

But when I glanced over at the Blades, Baurus had nearly finished wrapping Glenroy's arm in a makeshift sling, and I instead blurted out the first ones that came to mind. "Why?" I asked quickly, ignoring the desperate sense that we were running out of time. "Why was it so important that I come with you? Where are we going?"

Something shifted behind his eyes then, something almost imperceptible, but he suddenly appeared ages older, a world-weary sorrow draping over him like a shroud.

"I go to my grave," he said simply. "A tongue shriller than all the music calls me. But you—though you shall follow me yet for a while, we must soon part."

Although meant to serve as an explanation, his words left me more confused than ever. But before I could clarify his meaning, there was the sound of a throat being cleared. "Your Majesty." The Imperial coldly gestured down the corridor with his good arm, and we set off further into the ruins.

As we carried on, it seemed we could barely make it around a single corner without another group of assassins descending upon us, and although Baurus and Glenroy kept up their defenses as we fled through the ruins, it was clearly beginning to take a toll on them. Their breathing was laborious, and in the dim lighting, I could just make out the sheen of sweat on their faces—not to mention that Glenroy was still favoring his shield arm, his movements growing slow and clumsy. "Come on," he muttered between gritted teeth as we descended a set of stairs toward an iron gate. "We're almost through to the sewers."

But as we approached it, he abruptly paused. "What the…" He reached out to jostle it—and we all jumped as he slammed a fist against it, the metallic crash echoing off the empty stone. "It's been barred from the other side!" The ashy pallor of his face had turned scarlet, and a vein at the center of his forehead bulged. "This is trap!"

"There's got to be something." Baurus scanned the room, but I didn't miss the way he and Glenroy both drew closer to the Emperor, and for the briefest of moments, I almost wished I was back in my cell. Almost. "What about that side passage?" He pointed to the opposite wall, and Glenroy grunted, giving the gate a final savage kick.

"Worth a try. Let's move!" We filed through the narrow passageway, but were only met with a blank stone wall at the end.

"Now what?" Baurus muttered, glancing around the tiny chamber. Glenroy sighed, his mouth opening as though to reply, but there was a metallic clatter from the chamber behind us, and their heads both whipped toward the doorway.

"They're behind us." He and Baurus exchanged a terse glance before drawing their swords and charging back through the passageway.

But Baurus paused at the entrance, turning back to me. "Stay here with the Emperor," he ordered severely, his every word deliberate. "Guard him with your life." Before I could protest, he was gone, and I was left alone with Uriel Septim. Although I was quaking with terror, he wore an eerie mask of calm as we stood silently together, listening to the clangs and shouts of the skirmish going on in the outer chamber.

Suddenly, he gave a sharp intake of breath, and I was at his side in an instant, fearing the worst. He stood frozen in place, his eyes darting around the room—but then his face slowly crumpled. "I can go no further."

There was a brief moment when I thought I saw something akin to grief flicker across his face, but if so, it quickly hardened into a cold mask of resolution. "Listen to me," he said urgently, his hands fumbling with the heavy chain of the amulet hanging from his neck. "You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants. He must not have the Amulet of Kings!"

His frantic demeanor was a drastic change from the calm he'd exhibited so far, his wide eyes shining with a wild gleam and his hands claw-like as they locked around mine. "Take the Amulet. Give it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son."

I shrank back, but there was something smooth and heavy in my hands, and sure enough—his amulet was clutched in my grasp. I lifted my gaze back up to him, fully prepared to demand an explanation—but when I was only met with his pained expression, the words died on my tongue. His frenzy had stilled, and he offered a weary smile as he spoke, his eyes glittering beseechingly. "Find him," he pleaded, "and close shut the jaws of Oblivion."

There was a flicker of movement from the shadows, but before I could open my mouth in warning, there was a flash of red. I caught sight of the glint of the blade's edge—and the Emperor let out a gasp, his eyes springing wide open and his entire body rigid. His face had gone stiff and waxy, and a sudden horror overtook me as the knowledge of what had happened set in.

He let out one final, choking breath, spraying a fine mist of blood across my face before his body sagged to the stone, revealing the shadowy figure in now-familiar armor standing behind him. I stood transfixed, numbly staring at the nightmare before me: the Emperor, lying dead in an ever-expanding pool of blood, and the assassin responsible—who had now turned his attention to me.

The assassin let out a thin, hissing chuckle as he flicked his blade, sending a spatter of blood against the wall. "You chose a bad day to take up with the cause of the Septims." I couldn't move as he sauntered forward, slowing advancing on me—but as he lifted his blade, something snapped in the far corners of my mind, and a feral instinct kicked in.

"Baurus!" But even as I screamed for the Blade, I lifted my hands, the block that had plagued me earlier utterly vanished. My magicka was coursing hot through my veins, and this time, instead of weakly grasping for it, I took it by force. Miniature firestorms blossomed in the palms of my hands, and I pushed them away with all my might, blasting the flames into the blank mask of the assassin's helm.

He screamed, staggering as he clawed at his face, and as I scrambled away, a blur of steel barreled into view behind him. The screams cut off into a garbled, agonized moan, and Baurus grimly lifted his katana once more to silence them. But they had barely broken off before he was dropping his weapon and rushing to the Emperor's side.

"No, no!" He pressed vainly at the wound in attempt to stem the now-slowing blood flow. "Come on…" But in the end, he was left only to sag back on his heels in defeat. "Talos save us," he murmured. "We've failed. I've failed."

I slowly pushed myself to my feet, trembling and breathless, my magicka spent. Exhaustion was creeping in now, leaving my head spinning and my limbs heavy as I shuffled to his side. "I'm sorry." I was still numb from the shock, but there was an uncomfortable feeling suspiciously similar to guilt prickling at my consciousness, and as he lifted his head, I saw the corners of his eyes crinkling with anguish.

"The Blades are sworn to protect the Emperor, and now he and all his heirs are dead." He shook his head. "Dead. All of them." He bowed his head, heaving a long sigh. "If only—"

Whatever he was about to say next was cut off as he abruptly stiffened. "Hold on a minute…" He began to tug frantically on the Emperor's blood-sodden robes. "The Amulet!" He sat bolt upright, his eyes wide with panic. "Where's the Amulet of Kings? It's not on his body…"

Ah. The amulet.

It had fallen to the dusty stone, its chain still hot to the touch from my flames. I slowly bent to retrieve it, the Emperor's final words echoing in my head. "He gave it to me."

Baurus froze, turning to face me, and I braced myself for the onslaught of accusations. It suddenly occurred to me that perhaps it had been a mistake to draw attention to myself, or to my involvement in the Emperor's final moments. But to my utter surprise, I saw the alarm fade from Baurus' face, a thoughtful expression taking its place.

"Strange." He rose to his feet. "He saw something in you. Trusted you." He reached out, brushing a finger across the surface of the glittering gem. "They say it's the Dragonblood. Flows through the veins of every Septim. They see more than lesser men." His gaze flickered up to mine. "He must have given it to you for a reason. Did he say why?"

I squirmed at the note of hope creeping into his tone, and for the first time, I found myself honestly wishing I was back up in my cell. "He said it needs to be taken to Jauffre," I told him, choosing my words carefully. The sooner this was out of my hands, the better. But instead of the desired effect, Baurus' jaw nearly dropped, his eyes widening in astonishment.

"Jauffre?" he demanded. His stare bored into mine. "He said that? Why?"

And I remembered that even without an Emperor, the Blades had real power. I swallowed hard before continuing. "He said there's another son," I admitted. "And that Jauffre knows where he is."

Baurus was silent for a few moments. "Hmm." He frowned. "Nothing I ever heard about, but Jauffre would be the one to know. He's the Grandmaster of my order, although you may not think so to meet him. He lives quietly as a monk at Weynon Priory, near the city of Chorrol. That's where you're headed, as soon as you get out of here." He gestured toward the passageway the assassin had appeared from. "Through that door must be the entrance to the sewers, past the locked gate. It's a secret way out of the Imperial City. Or it was supposed to be secret," he added bitterly.

"Hold on a minute," I interjected. "Are you—are you honestly asking me to take it there myself?"

He frowned, seemingly surprised. "The Emperor entrusted you with it," he said plainly. "I must honor his final wish." His eyes narrowed. "You must honor it," he added pointedly, and I was once again reminded of full extent of the authority the Blades wielded.

"You're right," I agreed faintly. An ill feeling was rising in my stomach. Oh gods, what had I gotten myself into?

"Good." There was finality in his tone, but he seemed pleased. "The Emperor's trust was well placed. I'll stay here to guard his body, and make sure no one follows you."

I nodded. Remembering the captain's sword I still held, I lifted the strap of the scabbard over my head and handed him the weapon. He grimaced as he took it.

"Thank you for holding on to this, by the way. I'll see that it's given a place of honor in the halls of the Blades." For a moment, he hesitated, staring at the sword in his hand. "You must get the Amulet to Jauffre," he said finally, lifting his gaze back to me. "Take no chances, but proceed to Weynon Priory immediately. Got it?"

I lifted my chin, looking him square in the eye. "Got it."

He turned away, leaning the katana against the wall and once again kneeling beside the body.

"You'd better get moving," he muttered. "May Talos guide you."

He didn't have to tell me twice.

Without another word, I ducked through the doorway and disappeared into the shadows.