The day crawled on. Astene did not appear, though Kureeth found himself looking for her more than he would have admitted. It was a struggle to keep his mind on the quicksilver vein before him. The light was hard to gauge in the mine unless one was near the entrance, but Kureeth felt sure that he'd been working for hours.

It would have been easy, he knew, to ignore the responsibilities bestowed upon him, or pass them off to someone else. Relbray clearly had some ambitions of his own. But Kureeth tore himself from the vein and tried to remember Masa's extra duties. He left his pickaxe leaning against the rock wall. Time to check on the others.

From an adjacent chamber he heard a low voice that, as he rounded a corner, became clearly identifiable as Relbray's. The dark elf was working on a vein inadvisably close to Ursula, clearly as an excuse to keep up a rambling barrage of questions. Kureeth lingered silently for a moment and listened.

"Just a simple question," Relbray was saying. "No need to do a clam impression."

Ursula abruptly stopped her work and faced Relbray.

"Why is it so important why I'm here?" she asked. "I'm here because I needed to work and Astene hired me." She noticed Kureeth and her tone became less belligerent. "Besides, you haven't told me anything about yourself either."

"Have you met me?" asked Relbray, stopping work as well. "I talk of nothing but myself. I drop my histories on the floor on a daily basis, what are you offering?"

Ursula waved her pickaxe in Kureeth's direction. "You're not asking him any personal questions," she said.

Relbray laughed. "Have you met him? I don't think I've ever heard him say more than one word at a time. No, he's a lost cause. You, though, you're new. New stories, new secrets."

Ursula started swinging at the iron vein again. "For all your talking," she said between swings, "I don't think you've actually said anything about you."

Relbray did a mock stagger and raised his free hand to his chest. Kureeth frowned. This feckless dark elf was a far cry from the disappointed worker who'd spat in the snow not a few hours before. He was inclined to agree with Ursula—there was something else going on beneath Relbray's exterior.

Kureeth folded his arms and put on his best serious look. Relbray raised his hands in defeat.

"Alright, alright," he said. "I'll get back to work."

When he did, it was further away from Ursula than before. Kureeth grunted and left them to it. It would not do to get sidetracked, he thought, or become too involved in personal goings-on, not with his new authority to maintain. He checked the mine entrance again for any sign of Astene, or Masa returning from Windhelm. There was nothing.

He went to check on Ingarth. The Nord acknowledged Kureeth's presence without stopping his work. His dirty blond hair was tied away from his face and Kureeth noticed an all too familiar threadbare quality to much of the man's clothes.

"You know," said Ingarth, after a silence, "I don't have to take orders from you."

True enough, in the scheme of things, thought Kureeth. He folded his thick arms and waited to see if there would be any further philosophising.

"But it won't change when Masa gets back," Ingarth went on. "Or if Astene ever shows up. This? This is all temporary." He stopped swinging his pickaxe and took a few heavy breaths. "You wouldn't give any orders though, would you? Just stand there with your arms folded and make us feel like we ought to know what we should be doing."

Kureeth did not unfold his arms, or change his expression. For a moment he thought he could hear that different whistling again, coming not from without but from within. Something twitched in Ingarth's face and Kureeth wondered if he could hear it too.

Ingarth dropped his voice to a low mutter. "Dig long enough in Skyrim, something old always turns up. Something valuable."

Kureeth left him to his dreams. He rolled his shoulders and trod through the torch-lit mine to check on how Angrenor was doing. Astene, he knew, would be more concerned with whether the big Nord was capable of returning to work—though he had yet to discern Masa's response to Angrenor's condition. Kureeth found himself in a hazy middle ground: he wished for Angrenor to get back to work, but for the man's own sake. Too long incapacitated, and Kureeth had no doubt Astene would not shirk from dismissing him. And as she'd said, finding work was not easy for a man with Angrenor's complaints.

In the main chamber, Kureeth found Angrenor on his feet. The man had, however, managed to find himself some alcohol, going from the stink Kureeth felt on him. Angrenor staggered and muttered, his face heavy with creases. He was shambling through the camp, turning over bags and pots.

Kureeth reminded himself to breathe in and out. He made the distance to Angrenor quickly. He planted heavy hands on Angrenor's shoulders and pulled the man upright. Angrenor dropped drool down his front. Kureeth could feel sweat pooling under the Nord's furs.

"Lemme go," said Angrenor. Kureeth did not.

"I said," said Angrenor. Whatever he was going to say was lost in a grunt as he pulled himself away from Kureeth. He promptly fell on his face. Kureeth hoped the repeated clinking of pickaxes would prevent any of the others from hearing. He heaved Angrenor upright again. The man's eyes had a faint yellow tinge to them. He took a swing at Kureeth with a wide lazy arm.

Kureeth avoided it and its follow-up with ease. Angrenor might have known how to fight once, but there was no skill in his movements now. A fist came towards Kureeth's stomach. He caught it and pushed back. Angrenor toppled again, this time onto his back.

"Kureeth," came a voice from the entrance. Kureeth looked up to see Masa striding into the mine.

"What in Oblivion's wrong with him?" asked the overseer. Kureeth shrugged. Together they dragged Angrenor to his bedroll. The two of them crouched on either side of the big Nord, who made no further physical protests, merely grunted softly.

"No sign of Astene?" asked Masa. Kureeth shook his head. Masa's face screwed up in distaste. "Right," they said. "I'll take care of this. The others all still working?" Kureeth nodded. "Good. You get into Winterhold and see what's happening with Astene. Even if nothing's happened to her, she needs to know what happened today."

Kureeth rose and headed for the exit. When he looked back, Masa was staring sadly at Angrenor and tugging at their long braid. He wondered how the selling had gone, with Astene absent. All thoughts were momentarily banished from Kureeth's mind as the evening wind of Winterhold almost knocked him over. Later even than he'd thought. He flexed his fingers in his new gloves, and headed along the northward path.