31

.~~~.

Being surrounded by ravenous, snapping slaughterfish in a sinking dinghy couldn't have felt much different. A cold sweat formed on Ysadette's forehead as shadows of bodies moved like inky splotches across the cart's canvas roof. Each that passed would draw Ulpo's attention. He'd scramble in futile attempts of scooping them into his palms. Then, after they were gone, he'd scoot back to her side, only mild disappointment sapping the oblivious cheer from his face. As she watched him and everyone within an arm's reach of the cart, Ysa channeled her magicka into her eyes and hands. With her focus turned razor-sharp and her fingertips ablaze with embers, she had been waiting nearly an hour for Barro's return.

They weren't safe there. There wasn't a guardsman in sight, only strangers she didn't care to meet.

As soon as they'd found a space by the roadside in Weye, Barro had dropped the cart. With rehearsed precision, he set up an impromptu camp. It was not unlike the one he had made each night of their journey. If not for the lack of a cooking pot and fire, they would've been equipped for a full night's stay. As he worked, dismissing each of Ysa's offers to help with a gruff response, his demeanor had soured. From the outset of their journey, Barro had been jovially chatty. At times, infuriatingly so. Now?

Silence. Utter silence. Save for the curses being mumbled under his breath, he had gone about his work with foreboding endurance. Once finished, he had ridden Chunkyhoof into the crowd, making the promise that he would soon return. Ysa hadn't had the time to ask him any further questions, leaving her with little more than another influx of unwelcome tension.

It wasn't simply a raucous crowd gathered outside the Imperial City. The stench of a riot had filled the air. The city guards – men of the Imperial Legion itself – were scarcely in the area. It was as if they aimed to leave the people to fend for themselves should things worsen further. And they would worsen, that much she knew she could count on. Years prior, while passing through the greater part of Hammerfell with Suleh and Isro, the same atmosphere had dogged their every step. Discord such as that was unforgettable, but Ysadette never imagined it would stalk her beyond the battle lines of a civil war. Soon to be boiling over, she was caught in the middle of the same peril, but with only a flimsy cloth to cover Ulpo and herself. In the time they had been sitting still, the smoke rising on the east side of the city had blotted the sky. The tightly bound worry inside her chest increased with it, too. It was a gradually plummeting feeling, her realization that the beautiful, refined city of her childhood dreams was nowhere to be found. And the outside, she feared, belied the true nature of what awaited her behind its gleaming walls.

"D'oh, my," Ulpo said, sticking his head out of the front of the cart. "Such a lively crowd! Lively, indeed! Oh, how it reminds me of the last time I was here!"

Ysadette's ears pricked up at that. "Have you been to the Imperial City before, Grandfather?"

Ulpo fell backward, landing flat on his back. "Oh, yes. When the world wasn't as it was now. It was simpler! Yes, when I was a young and terribly handsome lad! Many, many years ago! So handsome!"

"I'm sure you were. Now, what did you come here for? We appear to have plenty of time for another one of your, er, fascinating tales. It'd keep me from getting bored, if nothing else." That ought to do it. Hopefully. Anything she could pull from his mind, abstract as it was, may end up helping her once they arrived at the Archives.

"Oh, once, yes. Or many times! The magic, it's everywhere in the city! Singing! Strumming! Thumping! But it has nobody to sing with! And I came to sing, d'oh, my! And to dance!" He raised to his feet, stuck his chin out and hummed at her, shuffling closer until she had no choice but to hold him back.

"Yes, I've heard you phrase it that way before, Grandfather. This singing and dancing. And that man you've mentioned before, too. The one that wants you to dance with him? The one in your head? He plays music, doesn't he?"

Ulpo nodded emphatically, his untamed hair wobbling back and forth.

"Could you mimic the tune for me, then? Both the one in the city and in your head, if you don't mind. I'll do my best to listen for this 'music' of yours."

"D'oh, silly girl! You've heard it before, haven't you?"

"Er, assume that I haven't. What would it sound like?" Ysa, as best she was able, focused on whatever he would do next.

Ulpo hummed again. His voice carried out of his chest full of life. The sound he made was a strong, steady accompaniment to the discord menacing them. A strange occurrence, as nothing about him knew the definition of constancy. And yet, here he was, for once finding order in this peculiar song of his. Ysadette listened carefully to his voice, in time finding her own wishing to join in. And so she allowed it. She hummed, feeling like a fool as she always did when humoring him. She couldn't fathom what she hoped to gain from this exercise – she rarely did anymore – but perhaps that was why she tried. There was a question that hadn't been asked. If left to someone sensible, someone that was neither her nor her Grandfather, it likely never would be. She knew this. And yet this unasked question needed to be answered all the same. It made no sense to her, and she wouldn't pretend it did. She simply knew that she must ask.

Ysadette knew then that her doubts had been quieted. She was indeed a bigger fool now than she'd ever imagined she would become. Humming with a mad, old wizard in the back of a rickety cart, the slowly-closing gates of the Imperial City a stone's throw away, what was her true aim? To demand order out of madness? Sense from nonsense? In truth, she had slowly begun to lose sight of what scenario she imagined would play out, the one she had imagined months prior. The imaginary road to victory had been crystallized for so long, she'd taken it for granted, realizing too late when it became hazy once again. But this time she feared it would never be cleared again.

As they stopped humming, Ulpo stared blankly at her for a moment.

"So, Grandfather, was that the tune?" she said, the reverberations lingering in her chest. "Forgive me, but I'm afraid I still don't hear it around us. Perhaps it's the crowd blocking it out. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to try again."

Again. She really had gone mad.

Ulpo's eyes looked off in different directions, and he grinned wide. He rocked back and forth, kicking his legs up in the air. In a flash, he was on his feet, sprinting for the back of the cart. Ysadette leaped up, her arms outstretched before she could find her footing. Too slow. Ulpo dived outside, landing and rolling across the ground in a cloud of dust. By the time she had joined him on the busy path, he was standing again. She tried to make a grab for him, but the flow of travelers barely stopped. They only passed around her like a rushing river. Ysa shoved her way through, earning the ire of many who shouted curses at her as she desperately tried to keep Ulpo's tiny stature in her view.

"Grandfather!" she shouted. "Please, come back!" She paused in the crowd, turning back and forth. Too many people. Too little time to waste. She needed to find him. Fast. Channeling her magicka into her eyes and into her feet, she slipped through the masses, searching for a bubbling life-force with a hole in the middle. Across the way, shimmying at an impressive pace, there he was.

Found you.

Ysa continued following him, the thought of someone seeing her spells in open view ceasing to matter. Surely nobody in the crowd would pay enough attention to care. If they did, who would bother to stop her? As she closed in on Ulpo, the mist marking his presence dropped to the ground, then shot up immediately as if he had been yanked to his feet. Had he fallen?

Or…

Her heart skipped a beat. Ysa shoved her way through another slow-moving group. Divines, please let it not be another accident!

Breaking through at last, Ysa found him standing directly in the path of two travelers. There was a woman wearing a hooded cloak, dusting off Ulpo with a gentle hand. The other was a lanky man in similar garb, peeking over his shoulder in the opposite direction. For a moment, Ysa paused, a peculiarity about the woman halting her steps. The foggy shape that marked a living presence hadn't yet appeared. The man's life was clear and vigorous, the woman's nonexistent. A faulty cast of her spell, surely, so Ysa let the effects wear off before approaching. As she did, the woman turned to her, noting her presence with what was likely an indifferent glance from underneath the hood.

"Please, ma'am," Ysa said, putting her arm around Ulpo. "My Grandfather's age has been getting to him. He isn't well. He didn't mean anything, I assure you."

"It's not an issue," the woman said, shaking her head. "I was more worried for his safety rather than mine. But try to be more careful, would you? This crowd isn't a good place to get lost in."

Ysadette nodded, glancing up at the face beneath the hood. A shadow too deep to look through obscured the woman's face, yet there appeared to be a brief flash of color.

Crimson. But why?

"I will." Ysa bowed her head slightly and pushed Ulpo to her other side, him taking hold of her cloak and wrapping it around his fist. "Thank you."

"Madam," said the man, "we ought to be going. This crowd. And the smoke. It doesn't bode well. We still aren't sure if..."

"Yes, I know." The woman made a motion with her hand below her waist, setting him to silence. She then turned back to Ysadette, bowing her head slightly in return. "Forgive us, but our business demands that we must be on our way now. Please, take care of yourself. The Imperial City can be a dangerous place these days."

As the woman brushed by her, Ysadette stood still. Stealing a glance over her shoulder, she caught the chilling sight of the woman's chin peeking out from underneath her hood.

Barely lit by the reflected afternoon sun, the woman's lips had drawn into a smirk.

The pair strolled on, and within seconds they had disappeared into the crowd. The hairs on the back Ysa's neck stood on end. Something was wrong. First, she felt in the pouches hanging from her waist. Each item could be accounted for. Wonderful. They weren't pickpockets, or if they were they hadn't bothered picking hers. Next, she made sure they hadn't sneaked to her anything she didn't want. Likely skooma or something else illegal. It had happened to her once before, and she spent a night in jail for the trouble. Still, she was untouched, so she turned to Ulpo. His pack of useless junk was stuffed to bursting, and his fork – now tethered to his neck with a bit of yarn – still dangled freely. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Why had the woman smirked at her in such a peculiar manner, then? Ysadette traced her eyes along the crowd again. That question would likely never be answered. And even so, if nothing was taken or left, it would do little besides sate her overly morbid curiosity. "Come, Grandfather," she said, bringing Ulpo closer to her side. "We should be getting back to our cart."

Before anything else goes awry.

With Ulpo trailing along behind her like a babbling shadow, Ysadette returned to their little camp tucked away in the mass of people. When they returned, she could spy the lazy, disinterested face of the horse, Chunkyhoof. Barro as well, and his eyes flicked up at her. Then down again.

"Is there a problem?" Ysa asked, helping Ulpo into the back of the cart. No response from Barro. As soon as her Grandfather was settled and safely toying with his fork, she went around to the front of the cart and climbed into the driver's seat next to Barro. "Did you learn anything?"

"Learn anything, yes. As for if there's a problem or not?" Barro shook his head. "That's putting it mildly."

"Then tell me what it is so I can be on my way. The sooner we both get out of this crowd, the better."

Barro's shoulders sank, and he scratched the back of his head. "The city's on lockdown. I don't have all the details, but I was able to gather that it's a direct order from Emperor Titus Mede himself. Happened after some incident between the Thieves Guild and Marceau, the Imperial Battlemage. According to the rumor, he was the one that came up with the idea to close the entire city. Now everybody inside is bent on letting them both know how displeased they are about the order, which is where all that smoke is coming from."

Ysadette glanced toward the Talos Bridge, and at the great archways spaced across it. "So, what now? Do you think I should I get in line with the rest of the people? Or should I..."

"Were you not listening to me? The city is on lockdown. That means nobody gets in or out. Bridge is barricaded down the way and the gates are locked. They aren't opening even a crack until everyone calms down and that cloistered excuse for a Battlemage finds whatever in Oblivion it is he thinks he's after." Barro let out a groan and ran his fingers through his hair. "He'd sooner catch a shadow in a bottle than root out the Guild, that much I can tell you. Nobody ever gets anywhere with them, not unless it's what the Guild wants. They don't take to threats. Only someone with more pride than the Divines or an idiot unlike any other would believe differently."

"T-then..." Ysa choked down her voice, then called it up to ask a question she was already fearing the answer of. "What am I supposed to do? There is something I can do, isn't there?"

"Not unless you've got a few friends in high places and a thousand Septims for a passport, then no. There isn't a damned thing either of us can do. You'll either wait until the Emperor's men find the Thieves Guild and execute 'em all, which will never happen, or you'll find another cart to head back the way we came."

Ysadette's heart sank, withering before it landed in the pit of her stomach and made her horribly ill. Barro's words pierced through to her spirit and shattered it. She nearly begged him to repeat himself, but she had almost been knocked from the cart the first time. "I..." She paused, fighting back tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. "I don't have a passport."

Barro pursed his lips, remaining silent as if he wanted to vanish into the restless crowds.

"Why didn't you tell me I needed one? You could've said something before we came all this way! I spent every Septim I had on this ride! Why would you…"

"As if I had any idea the place would lose it's damned mind while I was gone!" Barro snapped, glaring at her for a few terse seconds before relaxing. "It must've all taken place while I was out on the road to Chorrol. Do you really think I'd slog across a county and a half if I was only after your coin? If that were it, I'd have left you by the roadside that first night when you ran off into the woods with the old man. And I wouldn't have looked back, either. Just cut your losses and head home. You'll be wasting your time doing anything else."

Ysa nodded slowly, each word slicing into her deeper. She wanted to argue, and yet words seemed to fail her. After all she had done, was this truly the end? No, it couldn't be.

Barro glanced at her sideways, his growling irritation softening slightly. "Look, miss, you're a good woman, I truly mean that. And that's exactly why you don't belong in the Imperial City. It's not for your kind, see? I've seen it happen before. This place is for thieves and liars and tricksters, not someone as kind as you. Are you hearing me?"

"Then what am I supposed to do? I-I can't turn back. I have nowhere else to go. I have to get into the city, or else..."

"Please, just calm down. I'll…" Barro trailed off.

"You'll what?"

Working his jaw oddly, he grumbled another few curses before putting his arm around her shoulders. The musk that clung to him, the one she imagined would come from spending too much time sitting at the wrong end of a horse, caused her nose to scrunch up. For a moment, Barro paused, his eyes shifting back and forth sharply. After stopping momentarily on everyone nearby, he drew even closer to her. "Look, you don't belong here, that much I can promise you. But if you really have to get into the city, I'll do what I can to help you. I need you to trust me, though. Can you do that?"

Ysa glanced at Ulpo's wriggling form in the cart behind her, then to Barro, and nodded.

"Atta girl," Barro said, squeezing her shoulder, giving her what looked to be his best attempt at a reassuring smile. "I don't tell everyone this, but there are other ways into the city, understand? Ways that most people wouldn't dare think of taking unless they're desperate. And you're desperate, aren't you?"

"I don't think I…"

Barro shushed her. "Now, hold on. I want you to listen to me carefully. You're going to go down the Wawnet Inn just down the way. It's a nice place. My favorite Inn in all of Tamriel. Once you're inside and settled, ask the innkeeper about seeing the Green River's Wine. Altmer woman is who you're looking for. Likely as old as the dirt we're sitting on, if not older. Name's Nerussa."

"And?"

Barro relaxed against the back of the driver's seat. "And nothing. Like I said, you just need to trust me. I've been around these parts for a long time. Heard some things. And she's been at this game even longer. If she's feeling grouchy today, though, mention my name. It'll loosen those crusty old lips of hers."

That wasn't much to go on. Scarcely enough to make her confident that he wasn't scamming her, really. Considering the alternative was nothing short of horrifying defeat, however, Ysadette knew she didn't have a choice. She couldn't bear the thought of watching the White-Gold Tower disappear over the horizon, her leaving the city empty-handed. With a sigh, she dropped down from the seat onto the dirt path and began tapping the side of the cart to rouse Ulpo from his sleep. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. "Thank you, Barro."

"Think nothing of it, miss." He took the reins and shrugged dismissively. "I'm just being helpful when I can. I had a man riding in the back of my cart once, see. Was a philosopher of some sort, he claimed. Or a scholar. I'll be damned if I can remember much of anything about people these days. What I do remember is that he told me the best sorts of people, and the ones that the Divines favor most are the people that go out of their ways to help strangers. Had some fancy word describing it, even. I'd had it up to here with his yammering by the time we parted ways, but I can't deny his words had their effect on me. I figure I'm not a smart man, and he is, so maybe I ought to stop being so stubborn and learn to be better."

Ulpo staggered over to Ysa, a low huff bursting from his throat on approach. She opened her arms, guiding him to her embrace before he could shuffle off into the crowd.

Barro smiled. "Besides, after you ran that pack of wolves back into the forest yesterday, I've taken a liking to you. The both of you."

"Stay safe," she said, setting Ulpo's hood on his head.

Giving her a smile one more time in his own oddly reassuring way, Barro whipped the reins. "Likewise."

With a neigh, Chunkyhoof plodded forward, joining the line of carts rolling across the hills. Ysadette glanced at Ulpo when Barro was gone, meeting his crimson eyes before looking away again. She steeled herself with a restricted inhale and a quick touch of her necklace, waiting for a break in the rivers of people before she let herself be swept away.

.~~~.

As Ysadette sat at the bar of the Wawnet Inn, surrounded by patrons standing uncomfortably close, her thumbs wrestled one another endlessly. It was nightfall, and with so many people finding their previous plans upended by the lockdown, the obvious choice for most was to drink the night away. Had it not been a profoundly stupid idea given the circumstances, Ysa assumed she would've downed a mug or two of ale by now as well. For her, annoyingly sober as she was, she only had clarity of mind enough to question if the Wawnet Inn was just one step away from becoming akin to the riotous world outside. Rest and relaxation? No, it was wholly unpleasant. And the atmosphere worsened with each new person that forced their way inside. Even though he was hardly an arm's reach away, having Ulpo sit on the next stool over was much too far for Ysadette's liking. Three times – unless she had lost count – someone had "accidentally" spilled their drink on her. Each of those times it seemed to have been intended for Ulpo instead.

Various scents had saturated her clothes. Or maybe it was her hair? Perhaps even both, but no matter which it was, Ysadette found that her patience, already having been low in the first place, was terribly close to reaching an explosive end. Nerussa needed to hurry or there wouldn't be much patience left for her, either. At first, Ysa had believed sitting at the bar would increase her chances of speaking with whomever this Nerussa was. So far, she had only been given brief glimpses of the old Altmer woman as she glided this way and that throughout the Inn.

"D'oh, girl," Ulpo said, pinching her side to get her attention. "I feel as if it's time nearly for a nap. And you should get some rest, too! You're looking rather sleepy!"

"In a bit, Grandfather," Ysa said, narrowing her eyes on the woman at the other end of the bar who was serving a customer a frothy mug of ale. She was Altmer, and she looked old enough, having a few stripes of gray in her tied-back hair. It had to be Nerussa. "We won't be much longer, I hope."

As the woman made her way down the bar, serving each customer along the way, Ysa didn't let her out of her sight. When they made eye contact, Ysadette knew she had finally garnered her attention. Without breaking stride, the woman crossed the room, catching a bottle of wine from the shelf and a pair of mugs, and setting both on the counter.

"Haven't seen either of you in here before," she said as she poured into one mug and then the other. "You've come a long way, haven't you? I can tell from all that dirt on your face. The bags under your eyes, too." As she finished pouring two drinks, she nudged one toward Ysadette and other to Ulpo, who stuck his nose into it and began to blow bubbles.

"I'm not paying for that," Ysa said, gesturing at Ulpo.

The woman shrugged. "I didn't expect you to. I make it a point to not charge for the first drink for newcomers. Besides, something tells me it won't be the last one you'll be needing for the night."

Enough tip-toeing. Ysa leaned over the counter. "You're Nerussa, aren't you? The owner?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I am, yes. There isn't any need to act so secretively about that, either. I've been here since the last of the Septim line was on the Ruby Throne some two-hundred years ago. Everybody around knows me."

More than two-hundred years old and only a few lines on her face to show for all the time. Ysa imagined that in another ten years, she'd be quite jealous. "I'm looking for the Green River's Wine. Would you mind showing it to me?"

Nerussa looked over Ysadette, her raised brow seeming to rise higher. "Far be it from me to question a destitute traveler's motives, but do you even know what you're asking for, girl? If you need to get somewhere, go to the Embassy down the road and fill out an application. In a few days, you'll have your way into the city. They put the system in place to better enforce lockdowns like the one going on now, did you know that? Regardless, it's not what most would consider difficult."

"I don't have a few days," Ysa said, pulling Ulpo's drink away before he could plunge his nose into it again. "I need to get into the city as soon as possible."

Nerussa dragged her finger along the counter and exhaled. "There are only two reasons for someone to be in such a hurry to see the Green River's Wine. One, they're too poor to afford the cost of filling out paperwork. No shame in it, and I've known that kind of desperation firsthand. Or the second reason. They're up to no good."

Ysadette stopped twiddling her thumbs and narrowed her eyes at Nerussa.

"I wonder which of those describes you, girl?"

Ysadette pushed both drinks away, feigning a smile. "I'm poor. Nothing more, nothing less. I spent all the funds I had on the cart ride."

Nerussa smiled and squinted her eyes in a mimic of Ysadette. "You did, eh? Is the driver the one who told you about me?"

"A man named Barro, yes. He said that you know him."

"Know him?" Nerussa chuckled under her breath. "I delivered him. He always has been an impatient boy. He couldn't even wait for his mother to get into the city before being born. What else did he tell you?"

"That you'd help me if I mention his name."

"As if I haven't done him enough favors. Let one child call you auntie, find him a job when he's of age, and they start to think they're entitled to your help just because they ask. Bah! I should've known better."

Ysadette looked over to Ulpo as a considerably larger man bumped into him, almost spilling a plate of food as he passed. A sparking flame nearly burst to life in palms in response. "Are you going to help me or not? Otherwise, I'll be leaving."

"Damned boy. Tied my hands, I suppose. Fine. Just give me a moment to close up for the night."

"What are you..."

Nerussa brushed the mugs and wine bottle aside, then climbed onto the bar. "Listen up, you damned drunks!" she shouted, her once small voice now frighteningly enormous, commanding the room to absolute stillness. "We're closing down early tonight! Everyone who's reserved a room, head upstairs now! Everyone else, get your sorry asses out of my Inn! Or I'll have the Legion haul you off to prison and you can sober up there!"

With a cautious murmur, the patrons began to disperse. A few made for the upstairs bedrooms, others made for the door as if they were being chased, and the rest were clearly too drunk to understand, but nevertheless staggered after the moving crowd. In a few minutes, the Wawnet Inn had fallen silent and emptied itself, all under the watchful eye of its owner. On the floor, the tables, and the walls, a mess to make Ysadette recoil had been left behind.

"Erm, you don't need any..."

"Help cleaning up? No, I don't. I've been doing this for longer than you've been alive, and it's never given me much trouble." Nerussa waved her hand, a shimmer of light enveloping her fingers. Two overturned mugs across the room lifted from the ground and sailed to her open hands like they were on invisible strings. "It's a shame using too much magic causes a stir these days, or I'd have this place spotless all day, too."

With a flick of her wrist, Ysadette turned a fallen chair upright. "I agree. It certainly is a shame."

Nerussa laughed, tossing her apron away as she walked out from behind the bar. "No hidden daggers or swords for you, eh? I thought as much. You've got moxie. That's good. It'll get you further in this city than any number of spells will."

As she passed, Ulpo bent over backward to watch her.

"Where are you going?" Ysadette glanced at the array of bottles on the shelf. "Aren't you going to show me the Green River's Wine? And what about cleaning up the Inn?"

Nerussa threw her head back and laughed again as she pulled open the door. "The mess will be here when I get back. Damn things always are, don't you worry one bit about that. Now, let's get a move on. The ferryman's probably on his way, and he won't wait for us all night."

"Ferryman?" Ysa sprang from her chair. She grabbed Ulpo's hand and dragged him along as Nerussa let the door shut. "Please, just wait a moment!"