Andi was glad that, in his haste to leave on the rescue mission, he had neglected to remove Aphinea's magic jewelry – though he had left the circlet behind. Between those and the Uthzoorlaas mask, which they'd found lying on a table beside the emperor's bed in the basement, performing the Renew spell on Mom had been nearly easy. It was one hell of a spell and it could take a lot out of you – but he'd have done it until he collapsed on the floor, just to see the light come back into his mother's eyes as he took her back to the point immediately before the moment when Alderion had Commanded her to drink that potion.
He wasn't going to make the mistake (it was generally assumed she had done it mistakenly to Anders) of regressing her into her remote youth, and had watched closely for signs of awareness. Actually, she stopped him herself by exclaiming "Andi! When did you get here?" when he'd reached the critical point. Though Alderion had kept her under the Command spell from the time when he'd abducted her in Temple House until she had downed the potion, she had some peripheral memories of the afternoon.
"I think he must not have Commanded me to forget," she mused, as she sat between Wyll and Mina on a settee in the comfortable manor house. "It seemed as if nothing was anywhere near as important as Alderion, like I was hanging on his every word waiting for the chance to please him by fulfilling his Commands." She shuddered. "But I remember coming here, and feeling pity and horror when I saw what had happened to the emperor."
At the moment Giorgio himself was being interviewed by Macchiatus and Junius (who, still wearing the Ring of Detect Magic, had confirmed that the man before them was no longer under any spells yet still appeared to be, in fact, their sovereign emperor). Andi left his mom, sister, and papa snuggling on the sofa and went back into the dining room to listen in on the debriefing.
"After Mistress Dragonspring had restored my mind to me, I remembered everything that had happened, from the moment I was incapacitated by a Paralysis spell and hauled off by those thugs of Enzo's until Alderion gave me that potion," he was saying as Andi entered the room. "I felt better than I can recall feeling in years, and I immediately realized what Alderion was getting at when he asked me what I could remember. So I pretended that I was still hazy, and couldn't recall anything after being at the Ball. I thought I'd gotten away with it, though I still didn't understand what he was up to. But then he put some kind of spell on me and suddenly I only wanted to do whatever he wanted. He took me down in the basement and commanded me to drink another potion, and I didn't even hesitate. It seemed like the most wonderful idea in the world. After that, things got fuzzy again but it wasn't like before."
Two hours before, when the Paralysis spell had released its grip on Alderion, he had been securely bound to a chair – and spitting mad. Everything had been ruined – by those meddling Dragonsprings, by Count Enzo's greedy schemes, by Davos' murderous lack of familial affection. And yes, he had to admit, he himself might have made a few mistakes as well. It was all over, more than a century of power and plotting.
And suddenly Alderion's anger dissolved, slipping away from him like mist, and he felt more at peace than he could remember feeling in his adult life to this point. A sort of fatalism came over him. He was tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of plotting and fighting, manipulating and killing.
What he was, he ought to have realized, was just plain tired. He had been laboring for far too long without rest, and his mind had begun to unravel. Later, after he had had a meal and a good night's sleep, Alderion would come to regret opening his mouth and talking so freely to the Imperial Guard. But at the time, it had seemed that he was a celebrity being interviewed about his great accomplishments, and he was proud to reveal all – not to mention vengefully bringing down Count Enzo Terentius, Davos Appolonius, and anyone else he could spill the dirt on while doing so.
Alderion looked around him. Commander Octavius and his Recorder were there watching him. The Dwemer girl, Rezira, was there with a couple of young people who seemed familiar. Perhaps he'd seen them at some party, though they scarcely looked the sort to be moving in his circles.
And there were those two Dragonspring brats, the ones who'd been running all over the Terentius mansion with young Titus. Their older brother, the young Dragonspring mage, had seized that odd-looking mask his mother had insisted on using and run from the room, evidently planning to use it to restore her mind. He'd thought, at the time he'd had her drink the potion, that nobody would be able to bring her back.
He and the guards would have left her behind when they took Giorgio (who would have been asleep at the time) back to the mine, and it was supposed that she would soon have starved to death or wandered into the woods to be eaten by a bear. He ought to have known she would have taught that spell to her son. The boy – not yet 18! – seemed to be one of the most powerful natural mages he had ever seen.
"I suppose you're wondering," Alderion remarked calmly to his rapt audience, "whether I am under any compulsion spell. I assure you I am not. The Command spell, which no doubt this young lady knows how to cast" – he gestured toward Rezira with his head, the only part of his anatomy that had free movement – "only works for the person who cast it. A person bespelled with it will be compelled to answer questions from anyone else truthfully only if they've been Commanded to do so."
Junius looked to his Commander, who nodded. "All right," he said. "I, Junius Gregorius, Recorder of His Imperial Majesty's Guards, Imperial City Division, am prepared to hear your testimony. Do you swear by Divine Akatosh that what you are about to tell me is the truth?" A sardonic gleam came into the Altmer mage's drooping eyes. Such nonsense! "I so swear," he answered tiredly.
Commander Octavius directed the questioning, as he walked Alderion through the story from the moment when The Mask had been told of Davos Appolonius' desire to kill the emperor, and all that had followed it. "You are certain it was Davos?" Macchiatus asked, wondering if there could possibly be any mistake.
Alderion barked a sharp laugh. "My dear Commander," he said urbanely, "I have known Davos Appolonius since before he was able to grow a beard. I have been moving within the circles of the empire's elite since long before you were born. He wore a cloak, but it took no great effort on my part to see his face – assuming his voice, which he feebly attempted to disguise, were not enough for me to know him by."
Alderion was not content to explode the plot of Count Terentius to put his son on the throne, which had included the murder of the young heir Bruno Septim some five years past (Giorgio was able to corroborate that the mage had bragged to him of this, as well). He also revealed that for nearly a century he had been the legendary mage assassin The Mask, giving details of crimes dating back so long that none of the victims' survivors were left alive. He had often committed his murders at the behest of the counts of Bravil, but had taken other commissions as well when they would not interfere with his masters' interests.
By the time they had finished interviewing Alderion, Junius had enough information in his notebook to assure that the mage's head would roll – as would the heads of Count Enzo Terentius and Davos Appolonius – but additional evidence would be useful. The Judges were loath to convict on a capital offense without something beyond a single witness's testimony. Alderion was happy to suggest ways in which such evidence could be obtained.
When all of the interviews were over Anja had been able to take them all back to Imperial City with her map, dropping Macchiatus, Junius, the emperor, and their five prisoners off at the Bastion before taking the rest of the family to Temple House. She and Lars had taken the spare bedroom they'd used before, falling into its bed without bothering to clean their teeth. Everyone was exhausted.
Wyll, Katja, and Andi had argued for getting Anders out of his cell immediately, while they were there dropping off the prisoners; but Macchiatus had insisted that protocol must be followed. The officers of the Imperial Court were at home in their beds, and it would have to wait for the morrow.
First thing in the morning the entire Dragonspring contingent (plus Anja, Lars, and Gylabris) were in the anteroom of the Bastion as the former prisoner Anders Dragonspring was led from his cell. He had not had a bath or been able to change his clothing in days, but he walked with a spring in his step and joy shining in his eyes as he came into the room and beheld them all waiting for him. As a cheer went up, Katja fell into his arms.
Though Alderion had come to regret his candor when being deposed by Macchiatus and Junius, he held to his word. If it was over, then let it be truly and finally over. And so, released from his Silence Collar and surrounded by Imperial Guards as well as University mages ready to Silence him again should he do anything untoward, he stood by the catafalque on which the body of "the emperor" rested, and restored the corpse to its true appearance. The funeral for Bronzo was held the next day, the body being interred in an honored grave in the Palace District's cemetery, with a stone that read "Here lies Benjamino Crucio, known as Bronzo, who gave his life for his emperor." There wasn't a dry eye in the house.
Lucia was ecstatic to find her beloved husband alive and well, beyond any hope she had held even after she'd discovered the missing mole. His sister Mariana was also happy to learn he was alive – and considerably less happy to learn that her husband Davos (what had she ever seen in him, anyway?) had hired an assassin to kill him. While she and Tiberius had not, as far as anyone could determine, been in on the plot, they had been tainted by it – and Giorgio exiled them to the countryside, to a manor house that had recently been confiscated from the estate of the former Count of Bravil.
Anders had been astonished, and pleased, to learn that his son had found a solution to the dynamo core problem in his absence. Had he really been incarcerated for only a few days? Sextus, it transpired, had been so confident of the combined teams' success that he had already set up a manufacturing facility in one of the Market District's less prominent areas. Glassblowers and artisans in metal had been churning out dynamo core blanks in quantity, and were already working with plans for the devices they would power.
Andi found himself run ragged training mages with the aptitude to learn the Conjuring spell needed to power the devices, and the ability to look within and visualize the path to the Source. Katja had pioneered this technique, though she had never employed it except for Healing. She hadn't ever considered herself a mage, and beyond authoring the book that explained how she'd healed Francois Lanya she'd never attempted to train anyone in her specialized technique beside her son. Now she was besieged with requests to act as a guide, as mages popped out of the woodwork begging for insights.
Another month had passed like a dream, and the Dragonspring family were at last ready to set their sights for home. Mina had managed to send a letter to Dovi via messenger, telling him of all that had happened and promising him that they would be home before too long. She had not received any message back from him, but then there was no mail service to speak of between Skyrim and Cyrodiil – and the Steadfast family was not rich. Messengers were expensive.
Of Flavius Mina had had little word. It had been confirmed that none of the three Terentius sons had had any notion of their father's schemes. Flavius would have been only 13 when Enzo had plotted to have the Imperial heir murdered, already planning his second son's future without his knowledge.
So he was innocent of his father's plots, Mina thought – why didn't he ever contact me? I thought he loved me, or at least that's what he said. It was probably just the heat of the moment, she guessed. Mom had been opening up to her a little more about such things, including the ways in which teenage hormones could perturb the thought processes.
She'd even admitted that by the time she was Mina's age – only a few months shy of 16 – she'd already been in love three times and had slept with each of them! Without risk of pregnancy or disease, thanks to her amulet. Mina appreciated her mom's honesty, and had reciprocated by admitting that she now had an amulet of her own. Which, she was surprised to find, Mom advised her to start wearing immediately and keep it on. Evidently the pregnancy-prevention effects took a while to kick in.
Mina did so, but she was still having trouble getting over the shock of learning her mom had been – not to put too fine a point on it – a slut before she was even 16. It was so hard to believe that, considering the stable environment she'd been raised in. Mom loved Papa Wyll, and she loved Papa Anders, and she slept with both of them. And that was that. They all loved each other, and were there for each other, and this business of hopping from bed to bed just seemed absurd. Wasn't making love supposed to be about being in love?
The day had come, and they were all assembled with their luggage for the return to Dragonspring Farm. The Imperial Technology Company's factory had begun selling the first of the Dwarven Cold Chests, and they had been a huge success. No Dwarves had been involved, but the name apparently sparked a response in their target market. There would probably be Dwarven Bath Systems soon to follow, and a few people had already been spotted tooling around the city on the Dwarven Personal Transporter – something Gylabris had come up with that combined the hemispherical base of a Sphere Guardian with a comfortable seat and a set of controls. Who needed horses to get around?
The emperor and empress, with an escort of Imperial Guards, had turned out to see them off. They would be back, certainly – especially Andi and Rezira, who yet had much to offer the Imperial Technology Company. Gylabris was staying behind, for now. His fund of knowledge about the details of Dwemer tech was keeping the designers at ITC humming. Lucia came forward, and folded Katja in a warm embrace. She looked about 25.
"Katja," she said, eyes lit with excitement, "I think it may already have worked! I missed my period a few days ago." Katja smiled at her and put a hand on her shoulder, delving her. Yes, there in her core was a spark of new life! "It's far too early to know for sure whether a child will result," she told the younger woman – only younger now thanks to her intervention – "but you have conceived. Take care of yourself!"
This had been the answer to Emperor Giorgio's conundrum regarding an heir, and Katja had agreed to it only on the understanding that this was a one-time deal. If he and his rejuvenated empress failed to produce a child of their own before Lucia was once again past her childbearing years, he would be back to figuring out Plan B.
As the last of their luggage was hauled out by the hired porters and they gathered in the street, ready for Katja to take them all back to Skyrim, Mina was stunned to see a familiar figure approaching. He was dressed all in black, which didn't suit him. Such dark and devilish good looks should be clad in red.
She stepped forward toward him, and they met in the street with everyone's eyes on them. But they only had eyes for each other. "Mina!" Flavius said, tears welling in his eyes, "I had meant to let you go without saying goodbye, but I can't do it!" Mina's own eyes glistened with tears as she beheld his misery. Flavius, so gallant, so vivid… he seemed like a shadow of his former self as he stepped forward to clasp her hands in his.
"I have nothing to offer you now," he said sadly. "Emperor Giorgio has confirmed that my brother Arturus may take the throne of Bravil, ruling in proxy now and for good once our father has been tried… and executed. But steep fines will be levied, and now not only the common people of Bravil will be impoverished. For Titus and me, there is nothing – Arturus may be lucky enough to wed his troll bride, but it is unlikely that we will ever find a noble family willing to link themselves with us. Our family is disgraced, ruined."
Mina looked up at him, seeking his soul within the dark, sad eyes. "So that is why I've heard nothing from you these past weeks?" she asked, a flash of irritation showing. "You feel you are unworthy of me, now that your family has fallen? Or is it that your protestations of love were so much mist?" Now she was glaring at him!
Tears sprang from Flavius' eyes, running unheeded down his cheeks and dripping off the beard that had begun to grow. It seemed he had taken little care with his appearance over the weeks that had elapsed since she had last seen him. "No!" he cried, anguished. "I love you, Mina! I will always love you! But I truly am not worthy of you. You are a beautiful soul, a goddess among women, and I am nothing but the useless second son of an utterly disgraced, formerly noble family!"
Despite the tears and the apparent sincerity, Mina detected a hint of the dramatic. The rogue, he had seized the moment in his teeth and he was running with it! She leaned up into him and sought his mouth with a passionate kiss. "Don't run off and join a monastery just yet, Flavius," she murmured after releasing him. "The women of the empire would mourn your loss." He blinked at her, tears drying, as she turned back to her family. Katja brought out her map, and in another moment they all were gone.