Chapter Fifty

Bad News

"Delvin, you sly old bastard, I swear you must be cheating." Brynjolf took a sip from his bottle of ale as Delvin gathered up the coins in the middle of the table, a smug grin on his face.

"I'd never cheat against you, Bryn," the older thief assured with an innocent tone.

"Somehow I don't believe you." Brynjolf set his bottle down and began gathering up the cards to reshuffle the deck. "I can count on one hand the number of times I've won at cards against you."

Delvin chuckled. "Maybe you just need to get better at cards."

Just then the door to the Cistern banged open and Vex dashed into the Flagon.

"Brynjolf, Mercer's back."

Brynjolf stood to his feet, his heart rate spiking. "Did they get Karliah?"

She shook her head and shrugged. "I didn't talk to him. He's in a foul mood."

The three of them headed to the Cistern at a brisk pace. If Mercer was in a foul mood after coming home from his quest to kill Karliah, then something must have gone wrong.

Mercer was rummaging through the drawers of his desk when they approached him.

"Mercer, you're back," Brynjolf said by way of greeting. "Did you do it? Did you get Karliah?"

Mercer practically growled as he glanced up at them, the scowl on his face one for the records. "No, she got away again."

"What?" Brynjolf exclaimed. "Did she know you were coming?"

"She knew. She led us right into her trap, just like I knew she would." Mercer shook his head, clearly not happy with himself. "But she was always one step ahead of us, even to the end."

"Damn," Brynjolf muttered, running his hand through his hair as he exchanged disappointed glances with Delvin and Vex. "Do you have any idea where she went?"

"No," Mercer replied bluntly.

Brynjolf glanced around the Cistern, realizing Irina wasn't there. Had she not returned with Mercer?

"Mercer, where's Irina?"

Mercer sighed and leaned heavily on his desk, staring down at the huge ledger that lay open there. "She didn't make it," he said softly.

Brynjolf's eyes widened, then narrowed into a frown. "What do you mean?"

Mercer looked up at him. "She's dead, Brynjolf."

"What?" Brynjolf felt his heart slam into his ribcage, and suddenly his knees felt weak. He held onto Mercer's desk for balance as he stared intently at the Guild Master. "What happened?"

"Karliah ambushed us. Irina was shot with a poisoned arrow, there was nothing I could do."

"But are you sure? Where is she?" Brynjolf asked almost desperately.

"Yes, I'm sure," Mercer growled. "I left her in Snow Veil Sanctum, what did you expect me to do?" He was obviously getting irritated by Brynjolf's questioning.

"What happened to Karliah?" Vex asked.

"She made herself unreachable, and then she disappeared," Mercer answered. He slammed his desk drawer shut in anger. "She implied I'll be seeing her again, but I don't know when or where. We need to be vigilant."

Brynjolf heard the conversation between the others, but he didn't care about any of it. He didn't care about Karliah or Mercer, or the feelings of either. He didn't care that Karliah might try to strike again, perhaps even closer to home next time. All he cared about in that moment was the fact that Irina was gone, and he would never see her again.

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Down in the sewers where the Thieves Guild had its headquarters, one could never tell if it was morning or evening, as the place was always shrouded in the same dark shadows regardless of the time of day. Only lanterns and candles placed strategically around the Flagon and the Cistern made it possible for people to function there. But tonight there was one candle that that remained unlit where it sat on the table in the corner of the tavern, leaving the table shrouded in deep shadow. A single patron sat in the darkness, slowly nursing a warm ale. It was no secret that Mercer's second in command had some kind of feelings for Irina, and that he was taking her death pretty hard. As kind and patient as Brynjolf usually was, he could be down right mean when under a lot of emotional stress. Everyone knew to leave him alone when he was in a mood like that.

Everyone, that is, except Vex. Besides Mercer, Vex was about the only one brave enough to talk to Brynjolf when he was in one of his moods, and she approached him now only because she cared about him. She hadn't seen him this way in years, and she knew from experience that if something wasn't done he would easily slip into a long period of drunken self-pity, and the guild would be without its second in command.

Vex took a seat across from the red haired thief, barely able to see him in the shadows. Only his hands that gripped the tankard on the tabletop were illuminated by the ambient light in the room. His emerald eyes reflected the flame of a candle on a nearby table, but Brynjolf's face was in complete shadow. He said nothing as he stared at her.

"You've got people worried," she finally announced.

He snorted. "That so?"

"You can't do this, Bryn."

He picked up his tankard and took a sip of ale, his eyes still glinting in the darkness. "Do what?" he asked as he set the drink down.

"This…wallowing." Vex gestured toward him.

"Wallowing, is it?" There was a hint of amusement in Brynjolf's tone. "Now why would I be wallowing?"

Vex sighed. So he was going to play innocent. Typical Brynjolf. "Come on, Bryn, everyone knows you had feelings for Irina. You're wrecked by her death, we understand that, but don't let yourself fall into this pit you're teetering over."

"Giving me advice now, Vex?" his voice came from the shadows, soft, but with an edge.

"Someone has to," she shot back. "We need you front and center, Bryn. Mercer's not himself either, and he just took off to who knows where or for how long. Karliah's still out there, and she may be coming here next."

"Oh, I sure hope so," Brynjolf replied. "I've never had more reason to run my blade across that dark elf's throat. Let her come."

"Right…and in the mean time there's a guild to run."

Brynjolf leaned forward out of the shadow, resting his elbows on the table. Vex could see his face now, but his expression was unreadable, though it possessed the same hardness as his voice.

"You should go into counciling, Vex, you're great with the whole comforting thing."

His sarcasm was through the roof, and Vex didn't appreciate it. Once upon a time they'd been able to talk to each other easily, without the need for games or posturing. Once upon a time he used to confide in her, and she in him. She still hadn't fully forgiven him for ruining what they'd had, but she couldn't help but feel a little bit sorry for him. She knew how hard it was for Brynjolf to open up to people, to show his true self. In their line of work it wasn't smart either. Keeping things professional, keeping people at a distance was tantamount to survival in their world. She herself knew that better than most, which is why she'd developed such a hard exterior. The harder the better to keep people from breaking their way in. Brynjolf had chosen a different form of personal protection; that of wit and guile, which he used expertly to keep people at arm's length.

But it was obvious that Irina had somehow broken through that false front, whether she intended to or not, leaving a shattered shell of a man behind. Brynjolf's attraction to Irina was obviously more than just physical. Brynjolf had sworn he'd never fall in love again, but he had, and now he'd been hurt.

Vex couldn't help but feel a little bit jealous of Irina.

She drew a deep sigh and let her shoulders slouch just a bit, letting some of her guard down. "I'm sorry," she said with difficulty. "I know it was a shock to you. It was for all of us. When Irina joined the guild, if someone had bet me two thousand gold that she would be killed by Karliah one day…well, I'd be a lot more broke right now."

He gave her a blank stare. "Keep going, Vex, now you're on a roll."

Vex huffed in frustration. "Look, Bryn, if you want comfort I'm obviously the wrong person to come to."

"I didn't come to you, Vex. You sat at my table, remember?"

Vex stood up. "Yeah, well, my mistake." She moved to walk away, but was stopped when he gripped her arm.

"I appreciate your concern, lass. But I'll be fine."

She gave him a skeptical look. "You sure? I haven't seen you broken up like this in years. And last time wasn't so pretty."

He nodded. "I'm sure. I've been thinking…I think I want to go see her."

"See her? What are you talking about?"

"Mercer left her in Snow Veil Sanctum."

"You want to go there and find Irina's body?" Vex asked incredulously. "Brynjolf, what would that accomplish?"

"I just have to know for sure, Vex," he explained, his tone imploring, as if he were asking her permission.

"Know for sure? Know what for sure? That she's dead?"

Brynjolf nodded.

"You think Mercer was lying?" Frankly Vex was shocked by Brynjolf's implications.

"I don't think he was lying that Irina was shot by an arrow. But maybe, just maybe he wasn't one hundred percent sure of her death. What if it wasn't a lethal poison? What if it was some sort of paralyzing agent, or something that just mimics death?"

Vex frowned. "Why would Karliah use something like that? She wanted to kill Mercer, not paralyze him."

"How can we know that?" Brynjolf asked. "We can't know the inner thoughts or motivations of that woman. Why did she kill Gallus? She cared a great deal about him, or so she led everyone to believe. Why did she disappear for twenty-five years only to turn up again and go to so much trouble to get us to find her? A simple letter telling us she was back and wanted to meet would have sufficed. No, you can't presume to know her reasons for anything she does, Vex. And until I see Irina's cold, lifeless body for myself, I'm not going to accept that she's really gone."

Vex sighed. She'd never seen Brynjolf this unwilling to let something go before. Losing people in their line of work was part of the job description. They'd most recently lost someone else of their number—Etienne, who had been capture by the Thalmor. They didn't know what had become of him, he'd just disappeared one day. But had Brynjolf spent any time worrying about him or trying to find out what happened to him? No. Because chances were he'd been killed while trying to escape the authorities. It was a dangerous line of work, and they were all prepared for the consequences. Luckily Etienne had been found, but by simple chance and a rare case of good luck.

Irina's good luck, Vex realized. That woman seemed to have it in spades, unlike the rest of them. Since joining the guild she'd survived several brushes with death—not the least of which was a fight with a dragon—and she'd also managed to complete jobs the rest of them had previously failed at, and she'd brought in more coin than any other member of the guild had in months. In fact, it was Irina's good luck that made Vex not wholly disregard Brynjolf's theory, as crazy and desperate as it sounded.

"But what if Mercer was not mistaken?" she had to ask.

Brynjolf looked down into his tankard for a moment in silence. "Then I'll lay her to rest in a manner she deserves, and not leave her in some moldering cave as food for vermin." He downed the remainder of his ale in two large gulps, then stood to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Vex asked.

"To pack my saddlebag. I can get to Snow Veil on horseback in less than two days."

Vex also stood up. "But Brynjolf, what about Karliah? Mercer's gone."

He turned and rested a hand on her shoulder. "I have to do this, Vex, before it may be too late. I know you and Delvin can handle things until I or Mercer returns."

Vex nodded, knowing it was futile to try and convince him not to go. "Good luck, Bryn. I really do hope that Mercer was mistaken."

He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, then turned without further words and headed to the door of the cistern. Vex sighed and sat back down at the table. She hoped, for Brynjolf's sake, that he was able to handle whatever he found at the end of his journey.

Author's Note:

Sorry that was so short, everyone, but I hoped you enjoyed it. Things are starting to ramp up toward the end now. Still several chapters to go though. I'm so excited!