"Did you learn anything useful?" Delphine asked me.
I'd returned to Riverwood once I thought it was safe and Ma was settled in in Whiterun well enough. Lydia would keep her safe, of that I was sure. Now Delphine and I were holed up in her secret room beneath the inn.
"The Thalmor don't know anything about the dragons," I told her, shaking my head. "It's not them."
"Really? That seems hard to believe. You're sure about that?"
I crossed my arms. "Why'd you send me if you weren't going to believe me?"
"You're right, you're right. I just… I was sure it must have been them." She sighed and leaned against the table, staring down at the map she'd put together of the burial sites. "If not the Thalmor, who? Or what?"
"I don't know, but the Thalmor are looking for someone named Esbern."
Her head shot up and her ice-blue eyes went wide at that. "Esbern? He's alive? I thought the Thalmor must have got him years ago. That crazy old man… Figures the Thalmor would be on his trail, though, if they were trying to find out what's going on with the dragons."
"Why him?" I asked.
"Esbern was one of the Blades archivists, back before the Thalmor smashed us during the Great War. He knew everything about the ancient dragonlore of the Blades. Obsessed with it, really. Nnobody paid much attention back then. I guess he wasn't as crazy as we all thought."
"From what information I could get in the Embassy, the Thalmor seem to think the Blades are the ones who know about the dragons," I told her.
"Ironic, right?" Delphine shook her head. "The old enemies assume that every calamity must be a plot by the other side. Even so, we've got to find Esbern before they do. He'll know how to stop the dragons if anybody does."
"They seem to think he's hiding out in Riften."
"Riften, eh? Probably down in the Ratway, then. It's where I'd go. You'd better get over there. Talk to Brynjolf. He's… well-connected. A good starting point, at least."
"Got it," I said and started to walk back toward the stairs leading up to the inn.
"Oh, and when you find Esbern," she called after me, "if you think I'm paranoid, you may have some trouble getting him to trust you."
I paused and looked back at her over my shoulder. "What would you suggest I do, then?"
"Just ask him where he was on the thirtieth of Frostfall. He'll know what it means."
Wonderful.
The sky was overcast when I arrived at the gates to Riften, casting a sickly gray tint on the city. The water of Lake Honrich was glassy and black as midnight. Dead grass crunched underfoot as I made my way toward the heavy stone wall surrounding the city itself. At the gate, a guard dressed in the purple-edged uniform of the Rift stopped me.
"Hold there," he said. "Before I let you into Riften, you need to pay the visitor's tax."
When he held out a hand to me, palm up, I stared at him in bewilderment.
"What's the tax even for?"
"For the privilege of entering the city. What does it matter?"
My lips pursed and I put my hands on my hips. "You've got to be kidding me. Could you make it any more obvious that it's a shakedown?"
"All right, keep your voice down," he said, waving his hands and nervously glancing around. "You want everyone to hear you? I'll let you in."
Giving him a curt nod, I stepped past the guard and into the city.
My first impression of Riften was that it was cramped. The wooden buildings to either side as I entered were built on top of one another and the upper levels jutted out over the uneven cobbled street below. A small group of brown-robed priests walked down an adjoining street, keeping their heads held high. Beggars sat on ruined crates, shouting at passerby. As I walked, I carefully glanced over to see figures lurking in the dark shadows of alleyways. I didn't have to wonder who they were. I'd been one of them once. The Guild had a presence in the city, it seemed. A better one than in Balmora, at least. We'd never have been able to be out like that in broad daylight there. That was the Camonna Tong's territory.
I crossed over a wooden bridge that crossed over a waterway and led further into the city. Ahead I could see the market. There were several rings of stalls selling all different sorts of goods. The shopkeepers' shouts as they advertised their wares melded into a dense roar.
"Never done an honest day's work in your life for all that coin you're carrying, eh lass?" A voice asked from behind me.
I froze, tensing up in shock, and slowly turned around. The man who'd spoken was a Nord, redheaded and garbed in fine clothing. He leaned against the wall of a nearby building with his arms crossed, watching me closely.
"I'm sorry, what?"
He smirked. "I'm saying you've got the coin, but you didn't earn a septim of it honestly. I can tell."
"My wealth is none of your business," I told him through clenched teeth.
"Oh, but that's where you're wrong, lass. Wealth is my business. Maybe you'd like a taste?"
He was definitely with the Guild. I could see it on his face. They all had that same look.
"Not. Interested." I stared at him, narrowing my eyes. What Delphine had said came to me at that moment. "What I am interested in is knowing if your name would happen to be Brynjolf."
"Who's asking?"
That was a yes. "I was told to talk to you. I'm looking for an old man who's supposed to be hiding out somewhere in Riften."
"Expecting free information, eh?" He tsked loudly and shook his head. Straightening and uncrossing his arms, he stepped toward me. "Help me with business first, then we'll–"
My hand shot out and I grabbed his fingers, bending them back sharply with a loud snap. He doubled over with a cry of pain. When he tried to pull his hand away I tightened my grip and bent them back further before shoving him against the wall.
"Where is he?" When the thief didn't respond, I snarled, "Tell me where he is now, fetcher, or I'll break the other set as well."
The loss of use in one hand was bad enough for a thief. To lose both… I'd seen it before in Balmora. Even if the Guild did have enough money for a healer, they were never quite right again.
"Who are you looking for, again?"
"An old man. Probably hiding out in the Ratway."
"I… I think I know your guy. He's hiding out in the Ratway Warrens. Paying us good coin for nobody to know about it."
"And how do I find the Ratway?"
"Do I have to hold your hand through everything?" I bent his fingers back a little more and he gasped, "It's under your feet. Just follow the smell."
"Now, when I get down there, where will he be exactly?"
Just like Brynjolf said, the Ratways were just under the city, accessed through a grimy old door off the canal. The stone tunnels twisted around in a labyrinth, some of them dead-ending in old metal grates. Mildew covered the walls in a thick coating and a constant dripping sound echoed through the passages. The only light came from the occasional sputtering foul smell that saturated the place was almost overpowering and actually made my eyes water. Several of the doors I passed through had crude traps set up to spring whenever anyone opened them. It was all just rather sad.
The tunnels eventually opened out into a large chamber with a domed ceiling. A cistern took up most of the space. At the far end of the room was a more brightly lit area. Wooden platforms covered in barrels and tables covered them. Even from a distance I could see that had a tavern-like set up. Before I got any nearer, I already knew what it was. At least what it was a base for. I'd spent enough time in a place like that once. At least the cornerclub had been in better condition than that sorry mess.
As I skirted around it, I saw Brynjolf standing near the bar. How he'd made it down before me I had no idea. A Redguard woman in leather armor was examining his broken fingers. He looked up just in time to see me pass by. His eyes narrowed and he nodded slightly in my direction. Suddenly I found several pairs of eyes staring at me. Not one of them made a move in my direction. I glared back at them before pushing open the door that led deeper into the Ratway.
Ahead was a series of passages walled in place by grates that wound down gods-knew how far below. To my dismay, I caught a glimpse of tall figures in dark robes and golden armor skulking about in the shadows of the tunnels. The Thalmor had made it there first.
Nocking an arrow, I crept along. Most of them were down side tunnels and I could just avoid them, but one stood in my way. He was alone. I shot, taking him out so that the path was clear.
The very bottom of the Ratway ended in a chamber with two levels. A number of doors cut into the walls. Behind one of them, I heard a woman's voice hiss, "Knife? Yes. Book? Yes. Bucket? Yes. Inkpot? No."
As Brynjolf had told me, there was a door on the upper level that, unlike the others, looked heavily fortified. It was intended to be defensive. I hurried over to it and pounded on the barred wooden panel.
A grate slid open and a hoarse voice from inside shouted, "Go away!"
"Esbern? Open the door. I'm a friend."
"What? No, that's not me. I'm not Esbern. I don't know what you're talking about."
Right. I glanced back over my shoulder. Still no sign of them. "The Thalmor have found you. We need to get out of here!"
"Oh, how reassuring!" He scoffed. "Most likely you're with the Thalmor and this is just a trick to get me to open the door!"
"Delphine said to "remember the thirtieth of Frostfall.""
There was a long pause. Then, in a quieter voice, he said, "Ah. Indeed, indeed. I do remember. Delphine really is alive, then? You'd better come in, then, and tell me how you found me and what you want."
The panel slide shut again.
"This'll just take a moment," I heard from the other side of the door. A moment later there were the sounds of numerous muffled clicks as locks were opened. Delphine wasn't joking, then. "This one always sticks… there we go. Only a couple more."
A few more clicks and the door swung open.
"Come in, come in!" The old man said, gesturing to me. "Make yourself at home."
I stepped inside and glanced around. The room was fairly small, split into a section for cooking and a living space stacked with books. The moment I was in, he shut the door behind me.
"That's better. Now we can talk."
I turned to face him.
"So Delphine keeps up the fight after all these years," he said with a short laugh. "I thought she'd have realized it's hopeless by now. I tried to tell her, years ago…"
I frowned. "What do you mean, "It's hopeless?""
"Haven't you figured it out yet? What more needs to happen before you all wake up and see what's going on? Alduin has returned, just like the prophecy said! The dragon from the dawn of time who devours the souls of the dead! No one can escape his hunger, here or in the afterlife! Alduin will devour all things and the world will end. Nothing can stop him!"
Esbern turned away, shaking his head and clasping his hands behind his back as he went on, "I tried to tell them. They wouldn't listen. Fools. It's all come true… All I could do was watch our doom approach…"
"Alduin… The dragon who's raising the others?"
He turned back, pointing at me and nodding. "Yes, yes! You see, you know, but you refuse to understand!"
"So what you're telling me is," I said slowly, a chill creeping down my spine, "he's going to bring about the literal end of the world?"
"Oh, yes. It's all been foretold. The end has begun. Alduin has returned. Only a Dragonborn can stop him, but no Dragonborn has been known for centuries. It seems that the gods have grown tired of us. They've left us to our fate, as the plaything of Alduin the World-Eater."
I cleared my throat. "Esbern? I'm Dragonborn."
"What?" He gasped, his pale eyes wide. "You're… can it really be true? Dragonborn?"
"I'd give a demonstration, but it's a little cramped for that."
He grinned at me and grasped my upper arms. "Then there is hope! The gods have not abandoned us! We must… We must… We must go, quickly now. Take me to Delphine. We have much to discuss. Give me just a moment… I must gather a few things…"
He hurried off and started rifling through his stacks of books and papers. I crossed my arms, anxiously looking back at the door every few seconds. We didn't have time for this.
"I'll need this… No, no, useless trash… Where'd I put my annotated Anuad?"
"The Thalmor are almost here, you know," I told him.
"One moment. I know time is of the essence, but mustn't leave secrets for the Thalmor… There's one more thing I must bring…" He looked around, frowning. "Well, I guess that's good enough. Let's be off."
I hurried out of the room, Esbern close behind me. Leading him back the way I'd come, I prayed we didn't run into any of the Thalmor lurking down there on the way.
"What happened on the thirtieth of Frostfall?" I asked him quietly.
"It was a cold day. The end of the Frostfall is nearly winter in the Jerall Mountains."
I nodded. I remembered that all too vividly.
"We heard the news at Cloud Ruler by courier, riding hard from the Imperial City," he went on. "Thirtieth of Frostfall, one seventy one. Thirty years ago. The Great War started that day. The Thalmor ambassador delivered his ultimatum to the Emperor Titus Mede: the heads of every Blades agent within the Aldmeri Dominion. I knew, that day, that it was truly the beginning of the end."
"And what happened to the rest of the Blades?" I asked him.
"Hunted down, one by one. Cloud Ruler itself was sieged by the Thalmor and the archives destroyed. Every Blade within the fortress was killed."
It was like a blow to the chest. I remembered the words Baurus said to me once, a long time ago. "The Blades have always been here, and always will be." To hear that it had been destroyed…
When I glanced over, Esbern was watching me with a curious look plastered across his face.
"What?"
"What did you say your name was again?" He asked.
"I… didn't. My name is Mara."
"Mara, eh?" He tapped his chin and said thoughtfully, "There was a Blade named Mara once, long ago. She was better known as the Champion of Cyrodiil."
"Yes."
He made a quiet hmm noise. "She left Cloud Ruler Temple one night and vanished. We always hoped she'd come back… but she never did…"
A feeling of guilt sunk into the pit of my stomach. Everything I'd heard about what happened since I left… the usurpers… the Thalmor… could I have stopped it all if I'd stayed?
We stepped out from one of the passages. On a ledge above us were several Thalmor agents. Sparks flared to life in their gloved hands. I hastily nocked an arrow in response. Gods damn it all.
There was a Nord with them. He pointed down at me, shouting, "That's her! That's who was asking about Esbern!"
"A Blades agent! Kill her!"
I dodged the stream of lightning shot in my direction and sent my arrow into the throat of the mer who'd spoken. Fireballs roared from behind me, scattering the Thalmor as they ducked away to find cover. Looking back over my shoulder, I saw Esbern shaking out his hands.
"Seems I still remember my old training after all," he said with a laugh.
"Do you know a faster way out of here?" I asked him.
"Yes, yes. We should proceed cautiously."
We hurried out of the Ratways through a series of side tunnels I hadn't seen on my way down. The Thalmor didn't seem to have found them either because they were nowhere in sight.
When we finally made it out of the sewers it was dark. I let out a sigh of relief as I breathed in the fresh air. No sewers. Never again. The market was silent as we walked through, as was the rest of the city. Perhaps a bit too quiet. I hesitated, feeling a prickling sensation on the back of my neck.
Whirling around, I saw a Khajiit woman hurrying toward me, a knife raised to strike.
"And now you pay for meddling in the Thalmor's affairs," she hissed.
In one fluid motion I drew an arrow and fired, catching her in the chest. She staggered back, toppling over the railing overlooking the waterway below. A moment later I heard a splash.
"Let's hope that the last of them," I murmured, lowering my bow.
