So apparently on the last chapter I did a good job 8D. Thank you so much for all the support and comments on it. I'm glad the chapter turned out well.

Now, on to The Ultimate Heist. Read and Review. Oh, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!

It's been a while since I've said it, and I really should not have to but: Bethesda owns Elder Scrolls, I do not...dang it!

"Gray, would you quit staring at me like that? I feel like I just turned into a daedra in a skirt and started tap dancing on the ceiling."

The thief shook his head. "I just can't understand it. You…you shouldn't remember."

Sharah sighed. "I would recommend you stop trying to figure it out. It'll spare you a few headaches. This is Nocturnal we're talking about. She's not known for being understandable. Can we get back to this, please?" She motioned toward the plans that were laid out on the table.

They'd been casing the Imperial Palace for the past week. Gray had done some in preparation, before he'd tried to give it all up. But there had still been plenty to do. They'd made progress and the results of their information gathering were spread and pinned up all around her basement. Plans of the sewers, the tower, lists and diagrams of the guard schedules they'd managed to procure, possible spells and traps that were waiting inside. The tower was sealed up tight, so most of what was happening above the second floor was speculation. Sharah was starting to see what had daunted Gray in the first place. Gray had recently found some long forgotten building plans of how the modern Imperial City had been built on and over the top of the old Ayleid one that had once been a part of the White Gold tower. That was what they were looking at now.

"I can't believe there's so much of the old tower just sealed up and built over. I know Ayleid cities are mostly subterranean, and that might not sit well with humans, but the Empire wouldn't have had to do nearly as much building if they'd just…Gray!"

He jumped and jerked his eyes forward. "Sorry. Sorry."

Sharah shook her head in exasperation, then looked back at the map. "It looks like there's only a couple places where the old city and the new are connected. There's one out here by the prison. Doesn't look like it would get anywhere close to the Tower, though. And—"

A knocking sounded from the front door of the house above them. Sharah stepped back from the table. "I'll get it. Keep looking at that."

Sharah climbed the ladder and secured the hidden trap door before going to answer the front where the insistent rapping continued. "Alright! I'm coming! By the Nine, I'm not deaf!" She popped the door open and sighed wearily. "Hello, Methredhel. Something I can do for you?"

The Wood Elf thief looked chipper and inexplicably friendly. "Hello, Sharah. Long time, no see."

Sharah leaned against the doorframe. Methredhel was never this friendly with her. "I suppose so. I ask again: something I can do for you?"

Methredhel continued smiling broadly and leaned to one side, trying to get a casual look inside. "Oh, I just heard around that you were back in town and thought I'd come by to say 'hello'."

Sharah was unconvinced. "I've been back in town a week."

The Bosmer leaned a bit less casually. "Doesn't mean I can't still come by. May I come in?"

"No."

The mer faltered, then forced the friendly smile back onto her face. "Come on, Sharah. We're friends. We can sit and talk and…catch up." She was still leaning around like a drunkard.

Sharah chuckled. "Oh, 'friends'. Is that what we are?"

The friendly demeanor fell away. "I'm trying to be nice here."

"And doing a spectacular job…of looking utterly fake."

"Come on, let me in."

Sharah shifted her weight to the door and let the opening narrow a few inches. "No."

"Why not?"

"Why do you want in so badly?"

Methredhel huffed, "Look, I know the Gray Fox is in the city. The whole underworld knows. Him and his Shadow."

"And…"

"Are you hiding him here?" Sharah had to start laughing. To which Methredhel began to fume. "Oh, forget it. What would he even be doing here? You're barely a thief. Just because I haven't found him yet…Forget it. The only way he'd be here is if…" Methredhel paused in her thoughts while Sharah's laughter mellowed to a simper. But when the Bosmer read the devilish twinkle in Sharah's eye, she gaped. "No…NO! There's no way. You couldn't possibly…"

Sharah put on an expression that was the epitome of civility. "Good night, Methredhel."

She closed the door gently, but could hear Methredhel outside say, "That. Is not. FAIR!"

Sharah giggled. Well, so much for her secret underworld identity. Oh well, it was a miracle she'd kept it secret as long as she had. Down in the basement, Gray glanced up. "Who was it?"

"Methredhel. Your biggest fan," Sharah said in a mockingly feminine voice. "So, did you find anything?"

He groaned. "I swear she must be part bloodhound. I have to doff the cowl sometimes to get away from her." Gray looked back at the table, "There are a few channels from sealed parts of the old tower up into the palace. But they're too small, and straight up and down. This one looks more likely. But I'm not sure if…"

Both of them trace the passage, looking for where it either blocked up or let out. "There," they said at the same moment.

"That's in the sewers, right?"

Gray nodded, then grabbed for an Imperial City sewer map. "There's no door marked here."

"It must have been sealed up. What's this symbol? I think I've seen it before." Sharah started flipping through some of the books they'd collected for this. She found the reference in one of those Gray had procured. She'd never asked where or how he'd gotten the obscure text, though. "The symbol denotes something called 'The Old Way'. This says it was an old escape route for Emperors. If it's a way out of the Tower, then that means it's a way in. Hopefully."

"And if they've sealed it up, that probably means it's…well, fallen into disuse at least. Forgotten completely at best."

"Where does it come out? In the Tower, I mean."

Gray shook his head. "I don't know. It's the third or fourth level, I think. But there's no way to tell where the exit is. Could be a supply closet, or the Emperor's bathroom."

Sharah snorted. "That would be awkward. We'll have to risk it. I'm going in blind anyway."

"I should be going in with you."

"Gray, you said I was a better thief than you were. I can do sneaking. And you won't be able to pull the whole 'off with the cowl' trick up there. Any stranger will be an intruder, whether you're the Fox or your alter ego." Gray sighed. "It's ok. I'll be fine. Let's get back to this."

He nodded and they both returned to studying the books and charts. "It's probably more than just a wall between the sewer and the Old Way."

She nodded, skimming down the page. "It's a spell that's bound in—damn, I hate the Ayleid Language…'Glass of Time'? Is that it?"

Gray looked at the ancient lettering in the book. "Yes. Wait…" He went pawing through some more papers that were set on a crate. "Inventory…inventory…Glass of Time, yes. It's stored in the palace basement. Described as a large hourglass."

"Bound enchantment?"

"Doubtless. I wonder if anyone still remembers its purpose. Or if they just think it's some odd decoration."

Sharah mused, "So we have a way in. Break the enchantment that's bound to the hourglass, get through the Old Way entrance, through the Way itself, then up into the Tower."

"Then through the Tower to the Imperial Library. You've got four levels where the Imperial Library could be," Gray continued. "Oh, here at the end, there's another binding on the Old Way's other side. The one into the Tower…does that little symbol look like anything to you?"

Sharah grinned and plucked the complete Arrow of Extrication from where it sat on a shelf. "Gee, it looks like a key with fletching. So now we know what this is for. So let's assume I get into the Tower and into the Imperial Library. Which Elder Scroll do I go for? How do I tell them apart? And how do I get past those Moth Priests?"

Gray stood quiet for a moment, pondering. "I know the name of the Elder Scroll. Hm…I…I think I have an idea. I just have to find the right candidate. Let me worry about that. You'll have enough to deal with in the Tower."

"Gray, I thought we agreed on planning this together," she reminded him.

"I know, Sharah. But if there's one thing I know how to do, its deal with nobles. I know exactly what to do. I'll get that Scroll on a table in the Library. You just worry about getting in there and getting out."

Sharah chuckled grimly. "Oh, is that all?"

Gray became serious. "Sharah…you don't have to go through with this. I don't know for certain if the Scroll will lift my curse. This could just be another dead end."

"Or it could get you back to your family. It's worth the risk," she declared, glaring down and trying to memorize the path through the Old Way.

The master thief stood quiet for a moment while her eyes roved the map intently.

"Tell me this is not about your Guild."

Sharah jerked up. "What are you talking about?"

Gray's gaze did not waver. "Tell me you are not risking this because of your Guild."

"How does that even make sense?" she wanted to know.

He spoke sternly. "Are you risking getting caught on this heist as a reason not to go back? So you can excuse yourself with a life imprisonment? You should be back with them now. I'd think you would want to help them come back from that tragedy in Leyawiin. Instead you're walking into the White Gold Tower to steal an Elder Scroll, the odds clearly against you—"

Sharah stood straighter. "I'm doing this because I promised I would. Because lifting your curse is worth it to me. Speaking of which, do you know how to use this thing once we get a hold of it?"

Gray replied, "I learned something about them as a youth. And I've spent the last few months learning how to read them. That won't be a problem. Sharah, your Guild is your family. They need you—"

"They needed me. Before. What they need now is their Guildmaster." Sharah looked back at the map, but she wasn't really seeing it. "I don't know how to help them. But I know how to help you. So I'm going to do it." Sharah glared back at him. "I hope this isn't your attempt to talk me out of it again."

Gray shook his head. "No, I've learned my lesson there. I am grateful for what you're doing. I know I'd have no chance without you. I just hope you're going in there for the right reasons."

Sharah looked back at the map. That was the question, wasn't it.

XXX

She waited until the guard had passed, sharing the shadowy enclave with her associate. At Gray's signal they both shot for the door. The Skeleton Key whirled in the lock and the two of them slipped down into the Imperial Palace basement. They ducked behind some crates as the guard on duty came up toward the door. They waited until he'd gone back the other way, then Gray motioned off in another direction and Sharah followed.

When they were out of hearing range of the guard, Gray said, "The Glass is on the far side of the basement. We just need to find it and find how to work it."

Sharah nodded and they started off. The basement was a single circular room. Torches were few and far between, and mostly on the outer wall. In the center, most of the light was blocked by piles of crates that held Gods only knew what. This was not the repository of the Empire's wealth. That was upstairs. This was just storage. A warehouse for the palace. The fact that the Glass was stored here meant its worth and true purpose were unknown.

They followed a cleared path through the clutter that went through the center of the basement. About in the center of the room, Sharah felt like she hit a wall. One moment, she was close on Gray's heels. The next her entire head was spinning, like she'd downed two bottles of Cyrodiilic brandy in one sitting. Sharah staggered and went to her knees, then was on her back staring up at the ceiling while all her senses spun. And as if that weren't enough, the ceiling arced skyward and all the piles of crates in her peripheral vision did the same, growing taller and taller like their tops and the roof were falling away from her.

Sharah felt Gray's hands grab her by the arms and hoist her up. "Gray…everything's…"

"I know. A protection spell. Just close your eyes and hang on to me."

His steps were shaky, like she weren't the only one being affected. But the Cowl must have muffled some of it because the thief could stay upright while she most certainly could not. Sharah kept her eyes closed until Gray lowered her down by a wall and whispered for her to be quiet. The sounds of the guard's footsteps got closer. Even after they faded again Sharah focused on breathing until the drunken feeling had passed. But when she opened her eyes, she stared up at a chair that looked as tall as a one story building. Sharah groaned quietly, "It's still got me."

Gray replied, "Actually, the chair really is that size."

Sharah blinked at him, then at the chair. She leaned up on her elbows and saw an equally oversized club behind which they were hiding, and an enormous crystal ball further along the wall. Sharah looked between them a couple times. "What is wrong with these people? Why would anyone—Nevermind, I really don't want to know."

Gray chuckled. "The Glass is around here somewhere. Come on."

Sharah thought they'd be looking for an oversized hourglass stored away in a crate. As it turned out, the Glass was as enormous as the rest of the items stored here. The hourglass was taller than Sharah. "So…do we break it?"

The Gray Fox looked around the Glass. "There are some markings back here." Sharah kept guard while he figured through what was written. "It has to be flipped. The Old Way is unlocked from this side as long as the sands run."

"How long do you think that is?"

He shrugged and looked at the glass. "Maybe an hour. Maybe less."

Sharah thought carefully. "That's probably longer than it would take to get to where that door is. So you really can't come with me. I have to be at the entrance when you flip the glass."

Gray nodded. "I can do that. Now that last thing is to get the Scroll there when you are. Then it will be up to you."

XXX

"Try again. Keep your head up, shoulders back and stand tall. Pretend you are floating rather than walking."

Sharah tried again and the book on her head toppled to the ground. She cursed. "I can walk without making a sound. Why is this so hard?"

"Because it's a different skill," Gray said, retrieving the fallen tome. "Now put it back on and try again."

Sharah pressed it firmly on top of her head, hoping it might flatten her skull enough to keep the book put. "Is this really so important?"

Gray nodded, tapping her back until she had it straight enough. "Absolutely. If the Moth Priests think it anyone but the noblewoman who is there for the Scroll, you'll be caught. The fact that they're blindfolded gives us this advantage. But if they hear you walking like a warrior or a thief, they will know and the entire palace guard will be on you in moments. So yes, this is important. And you need to have this walk down before we put the pieces into play."

Sharah took a wobbly step, eyes fixed on the equally wobbly book edge at the top of her vision. "And how exactly are you getting this noblewoman to request the Scroll? And how are you keeping her from showing up?"

"Let me worry about that. You worry about this walk. Lift your chin and look straight ahead. It all affects your steps, so pay attention."

Sharah stubbed her toe on the table, the book toppled as she hopped on her good foot while holding her bad and spitting curses.

"You'll have to keep that language in check while you're in there. If you say one word, they'll know you're not her."

She growled at him, "You are so lucky I'm not armed right now."

Gray hid a chuckle. "Again."

XXX

"Do you have everything?"

Sharah adjusted her satchel and wiggled her toes. She was dressed in her usual dark thief garb, except for her mask which was lying on the table waiting. The only difference was that the boots of Springheel Jak were pulled on over her shoes and were now laced up her calves. Sharah had smaller feet than the Count, so even with her shoes, the boots had to be tightened.

She patted her satchel. Rope, a potion for invisibility, just in case. She had the Ring of Khajiiti on, though the enchantment was not active. Then there was the light bow and Arrow of Extrication strapped to her back. And finally, a silver dagger was on her thigh. She'd filched it from some random noble earlier in the week.

"Yeah, I think that's everything."

Gray nodded to the dagger. "Do you think you'll need that?"

Sharah shrugged, "I don't know. There could be anything waiting down in the Old Way. And its better that I not take my dagger. Wouldn't want to accidently poison a palace guard if I run into trouble." The thief didn't pursue the matter. "Has Savilla's stone given up anything?"

Gray shook his head. "Not since we got the boots. Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"The Priests are expecting Lady Celia Camoran in the next twenty four hours. I'll keep her from showing up while you get the Scroll."

"Let's do it."

XXX

Everything went smoothly up until the Scroll reached her hand. Sharah was waiting in the sewer when Gray flipped the Glass of Time in the palace basement. The wall shuddered and the door to the Old Way shoved itself out from behind the stone. Sharah wasted no time and entered. The first of the Old Way looked to be woven around the foundations of the modern city, but it quickly gave way to the Ayleid ruins of the White Gold Tower. As Sharah expected—and detested—the ruins were crawling with undead who'd been trapped or had just converged here. The only oddities were the very large piles of ash and soot that spotted the ruins. Sharah didn't spare them too much mind and went on her way, avoiding the undead whenever possible.

The final lock tested her marksmanship. Luckily she'd brought a few spare arrows to use for practice. A pressure plate on one side of an enormous grand hall revealed the key hole on an equally magnificent statue where the Arrow of Extrication was to be set. Sharah was quite pleased when the key reached its mark and the statue raised up to reveal a passage hidden beneath. She left the bow in the room and followed the passage down only to go right back up a winding stair. It was tight and steep and spiraled upward at such an angle that Sharah was certain if she lost her footing, she would be unable to stop her tumbling. Her legs were on fire by the time she reached the top, and Sharah had to rest a bit before she dared to open the door.

On the other side, what seemed like solid stone shifted out into the room. Some dust and mortar whispered out from where it had slept for untold decades. At first glance into the room, Sharah's heart had nearly stopped dead. The palace barracks. Divines and Daedra, the palace side of the Old Way was in the barracks of the palace guard! If she'd been smart, Sharah would have gone back the way she'd come. But the fact that the entire barracks was asleep gave her what might be considered inappropriate courage. But it was courage none-the-less.

The courage carried her out into the room, hugging shadows, and moving upward from floor to floor. All without being sighted. The human occupants of the White Gold Tower may have claimed the place as their own, but they failed to hold to the Ayleids' love of light. Torches did not cast nearly as far an illumination as the wild elves' enchanted crystals. The race of men must have just gotten used to the semi-darkness, which was just fine as far as Sharah was concerned.

But it also brought another feature to her notice. Or lack of a feature. There were no windows. At all. Well, of course. From outside, the White Gold Tower was a powerful jutting structure with not a weakness in sight. It was just…something to keep in mind. Her only way out would be back the way she'd come.

The Imperial Library was two floors above the level she'd entered on. Sharah did not know the hour, but it must have been late for there to have been so many guards asleep. Hopefully the Moth Priests wouldn't be wary of a noble showing up at all hours to look at an Elder Scroll.

Sharah spared a few seconds to take a deep breath and recall Gray's lessons of a noble's stature before entering the Library foyer. A massive stone wall assaulted her vision just within the door. There was a circular path that followed the perimeter of what must be the library. All the way around at the back, there was a small desk at which was seated a robed priest with a blindfold about his eyes. Sharah remained steady. She did not rush, she did not dawdle, and she kept her back straight and her head held high. But she couldn't keep her heart from pounding in her throat as she approached the seated monk.

His head adjusted to indicate he heard her approach. Before she started to panic, he rose from his seat and bowed. "Welcome to this holy library, Lady Camoran. We are honored that you should grace us with your presence."

He waited. Sharah didn't know if he was waiting for her to go through the door to his right or if he was waiting for a response. The latter was out of the question. If she spoke, they would know the ruse. Sharah made the decision. Better to play the snooty noble than the noble who was suspiciously willing to tend to her own entrances. So she crossed her arms and tapped her foot twice. It worked. The Monk Priest gave another bow of his head and went to open the door wide for her, following the rule that all commoners did: don't tick off a noble.

Sharah entered when he'd stood aside. Head high, back straight, imagine you own the room you walk into—That was a stretch. The grandeur of the Imperial Library left her momentarily dumbfounded, even in the middle of the most risky challenge she'd ever undertaken. It was two stories high—and that was palace stories, which were one and a half, sometimes two, regular stories. It was as wide around as the palace basement, and the walls were stacked floor to ceiling with shelves, and every shelf was jam-packed with what must have been every book and scroll in existence. And there was a gloriously carved stone table at the center of the room with a burning torch in the pronounced pit at its center. Divine Dibella and Holy Stendarr, it…damn! It wasn't even a table. It was a part of the floor. One solid piece, from floor to table. There was no way anyone but the Ayleids had done that.

A narrow elegant stair coiled upward to the second floor, which she could see was ringed with stained glass that was lit by torches from the other side. And she saw gilded cages where the precious Elder Scrolls were kept. This place was magnificently beautiful and it took her breath away.

The priest behind her had noticed, and seemed pleased that the Library had quieted the apparently temperamental noble. "Yes, my lady. It is quite a sight. If you would take a seat, we will bring you the scroll you requested."

Sharah recovered herself, spoke not a word, went over her posture and walked to the seat that was waiting for her at the stone table. The hour was late enough there were few priests around. And, like Gray had told her, they were all blindfolded. A few moments later, a different priest came down the winding stair and laid a precious Scroll before her. "Lady Camoran, we present to you the Elder Scroll that you requested."

There it was. The prize. Sharah waited only until the priest had gone back upstairs. Then she lifted the scroll from the table and tucked it into her satchel. She had it. She had the Elder Scroll. Now all she had to do was get the hell out of here.

XXX

Damn. Damn, damn, damn! She was in trouble. Sooooooo much trouble. They'd checked the table. Had to. The priests had come down to check on their guest to find that both she and the scroll were gone. Then they'd told the guard to locate Lady Celia Camoran and bring her back because the Elder Scrolls must not be removed from the Imperial Library, only to be told that Lady Celia Cameron had never arrived. Now every guard in the palace was being scuttled and on the alert, searching for whoever had made off with an Elder Scroll. Damn, damn, DAMN!

Sharah shot down the hallway like a bolt. The floors below her were swarming, so going down was not an option. So she went up, trying to stay one step ahead of the search parties. And no windows. Damn! With the way out blocked by angry soldiers, her only hope was to hide. Hide and stay hidden until they stopped looking and she could slip back out. For now all she could think to do was go up, floor by floor, staying ahead of the wave of angry guards.

The sound of armored feet ahead brought her to a skidding halt. Sharah went for the first door on her left. She darted inside, closing it quickly behind her. Then looked around the room frantically only long enough to find a hiding place and slipped behind the long banner hanging against the wall. Behind a banner? Really? How old was she? Eight? She may as well be hiding under a bed. But there was no shifting now.

The heavy footsteps grew louder on the other side of the door before it popped open. Sharah went rigid. They just had to check this room, didn't they? Holding her breath and clinging to the Ring of Khajiiti to hide her, Sharah remained tense and ready to run. For all the good it would do her in this fortress on alert. She wouldn't get a hundred feet.

There was shuffling and clanking as the guards moved around. Sharah prayed that they'd think the banner was too stupid a spot to check. Then there was the sound of a door opening. "Your Majesty." More clanking. Possibly armored knees hitting the floor.

"What is the cause of the ruckus?" asked an aged voice.

"A thief has infiltrated the palace and stolen an Elder Scroll from the Imperial Library," said a curt woman.

"Oh, my."

"We are searching every floor and every chamber. We will find him, your Majesty."

"I certainly hope so. Well, as you can see, I am alone. If anyone had entered, I would have heard it."

"Of course, your Majesty. We wished to be certain of your safety. We will leave a guard outside your door, in any case."

"Thank you, Captain Renault. I am certain I will be quite safe. Do not neglect my sons in your diligence."

"Yes, your Majesty."

More movement and the door closed. Sharah remained frozen, listening intently to be certain that the coast was clear before she chanced going to find a better hiding place.

"You may come out now."

And her heart stopped again. One of these days it wasn't going to start back up. Sharah cursed inwardly and ultimately edged over to peek out from behind her concealment. Standing in the center of the room was a man in royal garb and a noble posture, smiling gently at her. Emperor Uriel Septim the Seventh. Who else would the guards call 'Your Majesty'? She was definitely in trouble, and felt like she'd just been caught with her hand in the jar of sweets.

Her eyes flickered around the rest of the room, particularly toward the door she'd come in through. "My Blades are just outside," the Emperor said, "And there is no other way out of this room. I should know. I spent my youth trying to find one. But this room is quite secure. So you might as well come out and speak with me."

Sharah leaned back behind the banner, though not completely out of sight. She did not want to meet this man. Certainly not in these circumstances. Yes. Definitely her hand in the jar of sweets. He was right, of course. She was caught. Pure and simple. But she still checked the security of her mask before stepping out into full view.

The Emperor continued to smile. "You know, the last time a young lady stole into my chambers, it was for a very different reason." He chuckled, recalling some fond memory. She didn't. Her thoughts immediately focused on the fact that she was standing before the most powerful man in Tamriel and felt like nothing more than a rat in a trap. Besides, he couldn't possibly be referring to something like Burd and Narina. That was simply too strange to imagine.

The Emperor continued, "So you managed to steal an Elder Scroll. That is quite a feat, even given where you ended up. I might have expected the Gray Fox to be the culprit. But I find myself surprised."

Sharah didn't speak. Didn't see much of a point. He'd call in his guard before too long. Her chase was over. She was caught. She'd failed Gray. And once they removed her mask and identified her, she'd be labeled a thief to the world. She'd be a disgrace to her already floundering guild. Probably executed or at least imprisoned. And if Gray or someone else in the Thieves Guild did manage to spring her, she'd still be a fugitive for the rest of her days. So, with all of this in mind, why did the Emperor feel the need to continue teasing her with idle chatter? Or did he just enjoy torturing her with the anticipation of her fate?

"If you are not the Gray Fox, then you must be his protégé. I know well he is not a fairy tale. Although the Gray Fox's Shadow is a new aspect to the mythos." He couldn't possibly have seen her surprise under the mask, but still he smiled. "One does not rule an Empire without keeping aware of the goings on. And I am privileged to be the one to learn that you are not a living shadow of the thief, but a thief in your own right, as flesh and blood as I am."

Now he was mocking her? Sharah was actually tempted to scream and get the guards in here and her arrest over with. The Emperor was certainly in no hurry.

"The Gray Fox must have had great confidence in you to task you with this theft." Silence. "Or perhaps he sent you so as not to risk being caught himself."

"He wouldn't do that," Sharah insisted.

The Emperor's smile widened. "Ah, so you can speak. And I was afraid I would have to carry both sides of this conversation."

Sharah cursed inwardly. He had a way of talking that made him feel like a friend she'd known all her life. Calming and easy. It got under her defenses. Made her careless.

The Emperor became serious. "Do you know what you have stolen?"

Sharah stubbornly clamped her mouth shut but nodded.

"There is a danger in those scrolls. Especially to the untrained. A single attempt to read them can bring on permanent blindness."

Sharah opened her mouth despite herself. "I know. I saw the Moths."

"You did, did you?" The Emperor locked eyes with hers. "Then answer me one last question: why did you steal it?" Gone was his easy tone. His voice had the power of an Emperor, and she was compelled to answer.

"This scroll is needed to break a curse on one who doesn't deserve it." As he looked at her, Sharah felt like he was peering into her very soul. Only the fact that she'd resigned herself to her fate kept her from squirming.

Then he looked away and toward the empty fireplace. Sharah figured he'd call the guards. But instead he said, "The palace has quite an ingenious system in their fireplaces. Disposal shafts built right into the walls. I suppose the Ayleids detested sweeping out ashes as much as we do. I remember dropping things down there as a child. My father's family ring for one. My mother was furious when she found out. And still, I never heard it hit the bottom. Who knows how far down it goes? Or what is at the bottom? Or where it comes out? If it comes out. I suppose we will never know. One would have to be very small to fit into the opening. And it would be quite the fall, I'm sure. Well, good night." The Emperor turned around and walked into his bedchamber, closing the door behind him.

Sharah stood, stunned. Wait…what?! Was she supposed to get herself arrested? Emperor or not, the man had to be senile. Had to be. He knew she had an Elder Scroll. Knew she'd stolen it. And when he'd caught her red handed, in his chambers, rather than call the guards to arrest her he'd started up a conversation and then rambled off about…soot chutes!

Sharah cast one look at the Emperor's door and darted toward the fireplace. There was a small dark opening with a grate just behind the fireplace rack. The edges were dusted with black powder from the remnants of countless fires that had been swept into it. This was what all of those small sheer channels were that Gray had seen on the diagram. And it explained the massive piles of soot down in the ruins. That's where they came out. Was that where this one would come out? She could land in some random blocked off room with no way to escape. More likely she'd break both legs when she hit the bottom. She'd climbed so high up in the Tower, there was little chance of her surviving the fall.

Sharah looked down at her feet. The boots of Springheel Jak with their deep soaked enchantment. That might do it. But that would also mean that Savilla's stone had known for certain that she would end up down one of these chutes. She glanced over at the closed door again. Had it known about him, too? Questions for later. Much later. No time for second guesses or contemplations. This was her way out and if she was going to take it, she had to take it now.

Sharah lifted the heavy grate out of the way. The opening was small but, then again, so was she. She slid down in, and wedged herself into the opening so that she could shift and lower the grate back into place above her. As a final thought, Sharah took her satchel and slid it around so that she held the precious Elder Scroll to her chest. No point in losing or damaging the scroll on her way down. Sharah took three deep breaths…then dropped. She crossed her ankles and shot like an arrow down the chute. She kept her eyes shut as she bounced back and forth against the stone wall, falling at what might end up being a break-neck pace, all the time praying she lived through the impact at the bottom.

She felt the narrow chute suddenly disappear, and after a moment of open air Sharah hit something solid. The boots absorbed most of the impact, but there was still a jolt of pain up her legs. Sharah immediately went tumbling, soot and ash shoving themselves into her mouth and nose as she rolled. The loose soot turned to stone and Sharah skidded to a halt, coughing and spitting out enough black powder to fill a bucket.

When she finally recovered, Sharah took a look around where she had landed. She recognized one of the rooms she'd passed through. And sure enough, she'd gone skidding down a several yard high pile of fireplace refuse that now sported the trail of her descent. Sharah felt the ash all over herself and creeping into every seam of her clothes. But first she checked the state of her prize. The Elder Scroll was just fine.

Next step was to test her limbs, slowly. Nothing broken, certainly there were a few bruises though. Sharah carefully dusted off her clothes, taking account of the aches and pains in the process. When she reached her pants, Sharah saw her shoes. The boots of Springheel Jak had taken most of the impact. But while soot was a softer landing than stone, it was far from painless. The seams had ruptured, leaving Jak's boots with very large holes on all sides. She could feel the enchantment bleeding out through the torn threads. Now they were just ruined boots. But she owed her life to them.

Sharah stripped them off and spared one last look upward. She had stolen an Elder Scroll. An accomplishment greater than any theft she had ever heard of, save for the stealing of Nocturnal's Cowl. And…the Emperor had helped her escape. The Emperor. Of Tamriel. Had helped Sharah get away. With an Elder Scroll. She tried to think of a stranger thing that had happened in her lifetime, but couldn't think of any. Soul-stealing swords. Chats with Daedric Princes. Mad premonitions from mentally unstable magisters. No. This landed at the top of her list when it came to the unbelievable occurrences.

XXX

When Sharah woke up, Gray was still hunched over the Elder Scroll on her table, seeming not to have moved since she closed her eyes. Rather than disturb his concentration she eased back on her bed and tried to just clear her mind of all thoughts. Gray had been utterly elated when she'd placed the Scroll into his hands. But even with all the months he'd spent learning how to translate the scroll, he still needed time to do it. Time she was perfectly willing to give him. But Sharah did not spare a glance at the scroll itself. All those blindfolds and blind priests were warning enough, and she wasn't going to chance losing her sight out of curiosity.

An hour later Gray shifted, closed the Scroll before him and rubbed his eyes. "How are they?" she asked.

Gray looked at her over his shoulder, squinting a little through the eyeholes of his cowl. "Lacking. But I'll live."

"And? Does it say what you're looking for?"

He nodded. "It…does. I just…"

"What?" Sharah tossed her legs over the side of her bed and stood up to approach him. "What? Did we miss something? Do we need something else?"

"No…I just didn't quite understand what this would do."

Sharah sat down across from him with her eyebrow raised. "What do you mean?"

Gray lay his hand on the closed scroll. "When I read this aloud, it will break the curse."

"So? Read it. What's the problem?"

"The Scroll showed me other things. If Nocturnal's Cowl had never been stolen, the Thieves Guild would be different. Once the first Gray Fox fell to the curse, he couldn't operate in the normal world because he was a stranger to everyone without the Cowl. He could only act as the Guild's figurehead. So the Guild fell on hard times. I didn't realize just how much until I saw what the Scroll showed me. There will be a guildhall, way stations, secure routes and safe havens all over the province. And the Thieves Guild won't just be a part of the province underworld, it will run everything without question." The way he was talking, Gray sounded like he was just rattling off a history book. But the benefits to the Thieves Guild were not what was on his mind.

Sharah asked, "So…what's the problem?"

He said quietly, "I don't think anyone who doesn't hear me read this scroll will know the difference."

"And?"

Gray hesitated. "My wife…will not know the difference. I'll be able to go home, and she'll know me. But…what do I tell her?" He looked up at Sharah. "I vanished with no trace. I've been gone for ten years. What do I tell her?"

Sharah shrugged. "Tell her you've been under a daedric curse. What more do you need to say?"

"I can't…How do I go through the rest of our lives without telling her? I can't just pretend it didn't happen. I don't know if she'll even want me back?"

"Don't start with that, Gray. You can't start doubting now."

Gray buried his face in his hands. "I want to tell her…but I don't know how she'll react. Or if she'll even believe me. But…I want to tell her everything. I can't spend my life lying to her. But I don't know how to face her with this."

Sharah watched him agonize over his decision. He was a good man. He was the Gray Fox, the most notorious criminal in the province. And all he could think about was how—not if—he was going to tell his wife everything. Sharah never even worried about that. She kept her secrets willingly from her Guild, and never questioned whether telling the truth was an option. She'd only rarely felt guilt over it. Even when they called her an asset to the Guild.

Sharah stood up. "Alright, let's go."

Gray looked up hesitantly. "Go…?"

"To Anvil, Gray. We'll decide the particulars between here or there. But after all we've been through, I'll be damned if you're not going home."

I intended for this chapter to go all the way to the completion of the Thieves Guild questline. But it was getting long, so that will have to wait until next time. Stay tuned.