A/N: N4V1, you are rapidly becoming my favourite person! Thanks again for the great comments, and you are right - that section of dialogue at the beginning is majorly skew-whiff, I'll sort it out! If anyone else is reading and wants to comment, don't be shy - I love getting feedback of any kind!

Chapter 24: Best Laid Plans

A rare instance of winter sunshine illuminated the sandstone buildings of Balmora as Llovesi and Julan walked across the river from the Mages Guild.

People were in the streets, but they were walking quickly, avoiding eye-contact. The oppressive atmosphere that was to be found in towns and cities these days had worsened, as if a great black fog had descended from the hills, despite the bright weather.

Caius's street was strangely busy as well. There was a cart outside his house, and a bored-looking Nord teenager was loading it with bags from a small pile of luggage outside Caius's front door.

"What's going on?" Llovesi asked. "Where's Caius?"

"Right here, Llovesi." Caius had appeared in the doorway. He was carrying another bag and dressed in a travelling cloak. He passed the bag to the Nord and motioned her and Julan inside.

The room was tidy, incredibly. The bed had been made, the floor was clear of books but it looked bare and sparse without the normal layer of rubbish. Even the table was clear of quills and papers; all that sat there now was a single, forlorn, wrapped packaged.

Caius clasped Llovesi's shoulders briefly, the most affection he had ever displayed.

"I'm very happy you've been cured, Llovesi. Unfortunately, I've had a bit of bad news. I've been recalled to the Imperial City. You'll be promoted to Operative, and will head the Blades here in Vvardenfell until I return. I'll just give you your final orders before I go.

"Continue pursuing the Nerevarine prophecies, as the Emperor commands. First, go back to Vivec and get Mehra Milo to help you find the lost prophecies. She's being watched; if something has gone wrong, find her private quarters; she'll leave you a message there under the code word 'amaya', as was agreed. Then take the lost prophecies to Nibani Maesa. From that point, you'll have to follow her directions, and follow the prophecies. Good luck."

He turned to leave.

"Wait, what do you mean you've been recalled?" Llovesi asked weakly.

Caius shrugged. "Internal politics. Some concern about my sugar. I thought about refusing the recall. But they have members of my family back in the capital. I'm afraid it may have something to do with the problems with the succession. As the Emperor's health declines, factions are manoeuvring for advantage. I may be gone a while - that's why you're promoted to Operative."

"What does that mean?"

"It makes you the ranking Blades agent here in Vvardenfell district. As far as I know. There may be other Blades agents here I don't know about. It wouldn't surprise me. I may be gone a while, and you'll have expenses. Here's some gold. And you can use the house until I return; I've paid the rent until the end of the year. And I won't be needing these blacks or the ring while I'm in Cyrodiil. Maybe they'll come in handy. Take good care of them."

He passed her the package from the table, along with a purse of septims. Llovesi accepted them, still slightly dazed.

"So, apart from my orders, do I have to do anything else?"

He shook his head. "There's nothing to it. Each agent has his own assignment, and reports directly to Cyrodiil. You're promoted to Operative mostly to preserve your independence. You're no fool. The days of the Empire are almost over. When the Emperor dies, nine hells're going to break loose. Forget about the Imperial City. Think locally. Worry about the Sixth House and Dagoth Ur. And squabbles between the Great Houses and the colonists. The rest of the political nonsense doesn't amount to a plate of scuttle."

"Okay." Llovesi looked at the balding Imperial with a touch of sadness. He had been gruff, sarcastic even, but he seemed to have a reassuring knowledge of what to do and how to do it. She was on her own now, save for Julan. She held her hand out. Caius shook it briskly.

"Caius," Llovesi started, meaning to say 'goodbye', or 'thank you'. But it caught in her throat and she changed tack.

"I know I'm the Emperor's pocket-Nerevarine. I know he wants me to fulfil these prophecies for the good of the Empire. I'm not saying I won't. But what I will do will be because I want to, because I'm curious, because I want to help people. Because if I can make a difference..." she trailed off and shrugged. "Hasphat told me that you're fed up with heroes. I'm not saying I'm a hero, but I'm saying I'll try to change your mind."

Caius gave her a long look. "It seems you have been paying attention," he said after a while. "Good. Will you be the Nerevarine? I don't know. It sounded stupid to me. It still sounds like hokey superstition. But it does seem... spooky. Is this how history works? Who knows. Who knows."

He opened the door. "Good luck again, Llovesi. You'll need it, but I have faith in you." Then, with a nod to Julan, he was gone.

Julan strolled around the room, touching the walls. "So he's really gone? And we get to use his house now? His smelly, dirt-filled hovel? How nice." He sat on the bed with a thud. "All that stuff about you being the Nerevarine..."

"Just keeping up appearances," Llovesi said smoothly, with a slight pang of guilt. It wasn't exactly a lie, was it? She'd have to do the same for her reports to the Emperor. The Emperor. She sat down next to Julan.

"I can't believe he wants me to head the Blades," she said.

Julan leant back. "You know, I'm not even annoyed. I thought I would be but..." He grinned at her. "It's kind of attractive, you being a top super-secret spy. Plus now we get to decide what the Emperor knows, and what he doesn't!"

Llovesi ignored him. "Don't get too comfortable," she said, "we'd better get over to Vivec and find Mehra Milo... before someone else does."

The Library of Vivec was nearly empty, and none of the robed priests walking around were Mehra Milo.

"Doesn't look like she's here," Julan whispered.

"Well, we can't really ask anyone in here, can we? Let's try and find her quarters," Llovesi whispered back, fearful of the Ordinators' suspicious glances.

Outside they were walking down the corridor, searching fruitlessly, when they bumped into a green-robed Dunmer.

"Sera, can you tell us where to find Mehra Milo's quarters?" Julan asked quickly while Llovesi glared at him.

"Certainly," the man bowed, "she lives opposite the Canon Offices, up those stairs and to the left. If you see her, would you mind asking why she hasn't been into work for the past two days? I would, but the cataloguing won't complete itself..." he swept past them and entered the Library.

"What?" Julan whispered in response to Llovesi's glare, "it worked, didn't it? Come on..."

They found the door, a plaque bearing Mehra's name upon it, but it was locked.

"Oh, here," Julan placed his hand on the handle and muttered a spell. The lock clicked open. Checking that the corridor was still empty, they slipped inside the room.

It was small and neatly kept. Llovesi noticed a note on the dresser next to a few potions and read it aloud:

"Amaya,

Sorry I missed you. I had to run some old documents over to the Inquisitor at the Ministry of Truth, and I'm likely to be tied up there for a while. Why don't you meet me there as soon as you can? Then we can leave together as soon as I'm done. And Amaya, don't forget to bring me the two Divine Intervention scrolls you borrowed. Or, if you used them, buy a couple for me. I think I'm going to need them soon. Janand Maulinie at the Mages Guild in the Foreign Quarter keeps them in stock.

Alvela Saram is the guard at the entrance; just tell her you're looking for me, and she'll let you in.

You faithful friend,

Mehra

PS: I left a couple of levitate potions here for you, just in case. I couldn't remember if you knew the spell or not, so I drew a couple from stock."

Llovesi put the note down, her heart thumping.

Julan looked pale. "They've got her? They've got Mehra Milo?"

"It sounds that way, yes." Llovesi looked at the letter again. The whole thing was quiet, coded urgency. She could almost picture Mehra frantically writing, while Ordinators pounded on the door.

"This is horrible," Julan said. "Do you know what they do to people in the Ministry of Truth? I don't, but I've heard no one ever comes out again."

"Well, we're going to change that," Llovesi said with determination.

She checked her pack. She had a few Divine Intervention scrolls, probably from the Cult. Thank the Nine. She wanted to get to the Ministry of Truth as soon as possible.

They left the room and Julan locked it behind them again, then they hurried back through the Hall of Wisdom, trying not to look too suspicious. Outside, they waited for the Ordinator patrols to pass then levitated up to the great floating rock that was the Ministry of Truth. Llovesi didn't know much about it, other than the brief amount she'd read, months ago. Apparently it was actually a moonlet, held in stasis above the city by Vivec himself. Oh, and it also served as a highly secure prison for heretics. Or maybe just anyone the Ordinators disagree with, Llovesi thought grimly as they landed near an Ordinator on the wooden platform that ran round the rock.

The woman stepped away from the door she was guarding.

"I'm sorry," she said briskly, "No pilgrims allowed in the Ministry. I'll have to ask you to leave. But..." she hesitated, "you're not here to visit anyone, are you?"

"I'm Llovesi. We're here for Mehra Milo," Llovesi said quickly.

"Mehra said you would come." Alvela Saram pulled a key from a chain around her neck and handed it to Llovesi. "I'll say you subdued me with magic and stole my key. It opens all three exterior doors – the upper back door is best. You'll need other keys for other doors inside. Search for the keys in desks; no one carries keys while on duty. Mehra is in the Prison Keep in the cell on the far right, at the bottom. She said you'd bring scrolls to get out." She paused. "Listen, some of us are sympathetic to the Dissident priests, but kill an Ordinator, and you'll lose that sympathy. Now get going."

Llovesi followed Julan round the rickety walkway and tried not to look down. It was a very strange feeling to be so high above Vivec, and the wooden planks were fairly worn, which didn't help her unease.

The door Alvela had recommended was right at the end of the walkway. Llovesi slipped the key into the lock and they went inside.

Julan drew his sword gleefully. "What?" he asked, when Llovesi gave him a pointed look. "I've been waiting my whole life for a good excuse to kill Ordinators! You're not planning on sneaking are you? That would be no fun at all. If they attack first, they're fair game!"

"We can't, Julan! Weren't you listening to Alvela? Look, just stay here, I'm going to check it out."

Julan grumbled but agreed, and slunk back into the gloom by the door. Llovesi drew the potion of shadow that Mashti had given her for killing the witches and drunk half of it. Invisible, she tiptoed down a carved rock tunnel. Even though she couldn't be seen, it wouldn't do to make a noise and give herself away. She emerged into another tunnel with a door at the end. 'Prison Keep' was engraved on a plaque next to it.

Thanking the Divines for her luck, Llovesi tried the handle. Locked. She gulped a mouthful more potion, then froze. Footsteps. Boots on stone. An Ordinator walking towards her. Llovesi was convinced her loudly beating heart would give her away, but the guard passed her without a second glance.

When the footsteps echoed back down the tunnel, Llovesi took the potion of detect key from her satchel. Mashti's potions had turned out to be even more useful than the mabrigash had probably thought. A small glowing aura shone through the floor, roughly opposite where they had come in.

Drinking the last of the invisibility potion, Llovesi made her way back down, as quickly and silently as she could.

She ducked into the shadows near Julan. "I found the Prison Keep," she whispered, "but it's locked. I know where the key is, but how-"

"Guards! Intruders!" The woman's shout echoed down the tunnel. It was over. An Ordinator had seen them in the shadows. She raised her mace high, but Julan was faster. He hit the Ordinator round the head with the flat of his sword. There was a loud clang, and the woman dropped to the floor.

"Dead?" Llovesi asked, terrified.

"I think I just knocked her out. We have to move, someone will have heard that!"

Llovesi looked at the woman lying sprawled in front of them and the seeds of an idea were planted in her mind.

"Quick, let's get her down this tunnel!"

They pulled her round the corner, out of sight, and Llovesi took her own cloak off, then began stripping the woman's golden armour.

"What are you doing?" Julan whispered incredulously. "I don't think this is the time for robbery!"

"I'm improvising. Help me get this armour on, will you? There're so many buckles..."

They worked quickly, and Llovesi placed the heavy golden helmet over her head, blinking sweat from her eyes. I really hope this works.

"Right, I'm going to explain very quickly, because I think we only have another minute to spare..." she began.

"Do you have to hold so tightly? It's really uncomfortable..."

"Shh!"

Llovesi marched Julan back round the corner, his hands behind his back.

The wooden door in front of them slammed open and an Ordinator was standing there suspiciously. At least, she presumed he was, for she couldn't see his face. And for the plan to work she was relying on the fact that he couldn't see hers.

"Myrano? I heard shouting..."

"Yes," she replied, trying to make her voice as raspy as possible to approximate the Vvardenfell accent, "I apprehended this intruder breaking in. I think he has something to do with the Milo woman. I need the key to the Prison Keep." She shook Julan for effect, and waited, sweating, for the man's response.

"That is a very curious tale indeed. I've never heard of such a thing. Breaking in... But go ahead, as long as you're here. I'll give you my key, but you'll need to get the cell key from the desk in the prison. Take him through, then come back and we'll process his paperwork."

"Thank you."

He passed her the key and turned to Julan. "Now you'll learn what we do to Dissidents, heretic. Take him away."

Julan waited until they were safely round the corner, then burst out into an excited whisper. "I can't believe that worked! You've gotten much better at acting!"

"Yeah, well, we're not through yet. I've got to convince someone else to give me a key now." Llovesi was worried; she had underestimated the amount of security they would encounter. And her disguise wasn't fool proof – she didn't know anyone's names, or the normal procedures. They were scraping by on luck.

She unlocked the door with a shaking hand and thrust Julan into the room in front of her. Then she stopped a moment out of shock. It was a huge cavern: prison cells with solid wooden doors lining the walls up and down. Prisoners in shackles walked around a fire pit at the bottom of the cavern, only accessible by another rickety walkway, patrolled by Ordinators. So many Ordinators. She located Mehra's cell at the bottom, far right, and resolved herself.

A guard by the desk stepped forward. "What is going on?" he asked gruffly.

Llovesi repeated the story she had told the other guard, praying her voice didn't falter.

The guard nodded. "I understand. But sister, remind me of you name, for it escapes me momentarily."

Llovesi's heart nearly stopped. "I'm..."

She couldn't remember the name of the guard she was impersonating.

"I'm Alvela Saram. Coming down with a touch of swamp fever I fear." She coughed for effect, but her heart was sinking. They were found out, they had to be.

The guard frowned. "Aren't you supposed to be on duty outside? This is against procedures. And you know it. Go ahead. The key is in the desk. But I have to report this. Immediately."

She bowed her head, too afraid to speak again, and rifled in the drawer of the desk and withdrew a single key. Could all the cells share a key? Was it that simple?

She turned to go down the walkway, when she felt a pair of hands lift the helmet from her head.

"You are not Alvela Saram. Guards, intruders!"

And then everything happened very quickly.

She pushed the helmet at the guard and he stumbled back in surprise, hitting the desk. Then she shouted: "Julan, run!"

They vaulted the rope railing to the next level of the walkway and rolled. But Ordinators were running from every direction, weapons raised high.

"This way!"

They jumped again, ducked the grasping hands of a nearby guard, turned the corner and sprinted.

Llovesi was dimly aware of the prisoners at the bottom looking up in wonder. Everything was a blur, the rocky walls, the torches, all whizzed by. A flash of golden armour in front. She kicked out, heard the guard stumble and moved on. Then someone's hands were grasping at her ankles, but Julan was there again, and he grabbed her hand, pulling her onwards.

They were close to the bottom now, so they both jumped, landing amongst the frightened and confused prisoners. They sprinted to Mehra's cell, and Llovesi fumbled the key, her heart threatening to leap out of her throat. She fitted it to the lock finally and twisted.

She turned to look at the cavern as they went inside. Amazingly, the prisoners outside were doing their best to get in the way of the Ordinators.

"Move, churl!" one snarled, lashing out with his mace.

"Llovesi, go!"

Julan pulled her inside the cell, and turned back to the door, locking it quickly with a spell.

"Llovesi!" It was Mehra, still in her blue robe, her face creased with worry but looking no worse for the wear.

"Do you have the Divine Intervention scrolls? I have an escape plan."

Llovesi searched her bag, finding the correct scrolls.

"Quickly, Llovesi, I don't know how long this will hold them!" Julan shouted from the door. As if to prove his point, the spikes of a mace thudded through the door suddenly. Julan jumped back. The shouts outside grew louder and more frenzied.

Mehra took a scroll from Llovesi with her shackled hands, speaking rapidly. "I'll need one Divine Intervention scroll myself for my escape plan. Getting out will be a lot faster and safer for you if you have one, but if you haven't got one for yourself, maybe you can find some other way out. Now, listen. Here's my plan. I'll meet you at the secret Dissident priests monastery at Holamayan. For safety, we'll travel separately..."

The door was starting to splinter and break.

"When you get out of here, look for a woman named Blatta Hateria on the East Docks of Ebonheart. Tell her I sent you, and that you want to 'go fishing.' She'll bring you to Holamayan by boat. I'll meet you there, and we'll get the lost prophecies from Gilvas Barelo, the leader of the Dissident priests. And magic conceals the Holamayan entrance - speak to Vevrana Aryon, a monk at the dock at Holamayan, about the hidden entrance."

She read the incantation on the scroll and disappeared.

Julan backed over to Llovesi, who lifted her Divine Intervention Amulet from inside the Indoril cuirass and reached for his hand.

Then the door imploded in a shower of splinters. An Ordinator stepped forward grimly. "You will die now, n'wah scum."

Llovesi squeezed her amulet as he swung his mace and they disappeared, the weapon sailing through thin air.

They materialised outside the Imperial Cult in Ebonheart, breathing hard.

"That was way too close for comfort," Julan said, leaning against a nearby wall for support.

"I know, I'm sorry, I just lost my head slightly." Llovesi wrenched the Indoril armour off, shaking, relieved to be wearing only her lightweight leathers again.

"We should get moving," she said, once she'd fastened her cloak, the Ordinator's armour hidden in a bush. "News about what happened is bound to get out, although I wouldn't be surprised if it gets hushed up. They'll be looking for us in any case."

They jogged through Ebonheart, ignoring the confused looks of people in the streets. When at the docks, they walked east scanning the boats. The dock was a hive of activity, as the eastern docks were devoted to shipping and fishing rather than travel, and everywhere people were moving crates and attending to the ships' mooring.

Llovesi craned her neck above the crowd, and noticed a boat that was smaller than the others. A middle aged Imperial woman was busy with the ropes on the small jetty nearby. She straightened up warily as Llovesi and Julan approached.

"Are you Blatta Hateria?" Llovesi asked.

"I am. Do I know you?"

"We'd like to go fishing."

The woman smiled. "Is that so? I know a fine place. Excellent fishing. My friend, Mehra Milo, says it's her favourite fishing spot. You ready to go?"

They nodded. The woman unwound the rope from the mooring peg. "Well, hop in then, and make yourselves comfortable. It's a long trip, but I reckon it's worth the wait."

She pushed off the jetty and hoisted the sails. Llovesi sank down next to Julan in relief. They'd done it. They'd escaped.