33

.~~~.

"There's a dead-end ahead," the Madam said, her voice echoing through the dark tunnels as she approached. "Given the way the Ayleids designed the city, I wouldn't have been surprised if we had to double-back at some point, but this isn't what I initially expected to find. Someone blocked the left path recently. It wasn't that way the last time I was here, and the stones they used are still new." After stepping into the warm lantern light, she paused for a moment, her careful contemplation thickening the air with tension all around. "Maybe they've done us a favor. There could have been a collapse somewhere farther in, and we wouldn't know until we stumbled over the architects working to fix it. For now, we'll have to take the right path. It will take us a bit longer to reach the exit, but I doubt we'll run into any more difficulties. Let's go."

Ysadette stifled a frustrated groan while it was still rising from her gut. She had found herself becoming gruesomely well accustomed to the lingering stench of stale air held in the bowels of the Imperial City. Apparently, she was going to become even more familiar with it. At first, it had walloped her senses with such barbarity that it was a steep challenge to justify to herself the idea of proceeding farther into the Green River's Wine. Or, as she now knew, the old sewer system. The section they entered had been abandoned for quite some time – it appeared to be that way, at least – so it wasn't as terrible as she had initially expected. And yet, despite not having to wade through what would have certainly been a "green river" after all, Ysa still believed it best to keep her mind occupied as they proceeded.

The sewers were laid out like a writhing den of tightly coiled serpents. Passages would often split and intersect with one another, and darkness filled them like an oppressive curtain had been yanked from one end to the other. Without a proper guide, it would be alarmingly easy to get lost in them forever. Sweat would bead up on Ysadette's forehead if she focused on the thought for too long. Her shoulders would tighten until they were difficult to move and the rest of her body would try to shiver if she did not resist the urge. If she could've dug straight up into the streets she prayed waited just above their heads, she supposed she would've already done it.

Ulpo, meanwhile, with his hand tightly gripping hers, had found plenty of amusement at their situation. Unsurprisingly. He shouted and sang as they walked, carrying on quite a lengthy conversation with his echo. Although soon enough, the Madam had instructed Ysadette to silence him.

The Madam, as expected, led the way with a near-encyclopedic knowledge of the tunnels. The young man whom Ysa assumed was her apprentice followed, holding a lantern above his head to give them all light enough to see. Given that fact, Ysa wasn't sure why he didn't lead or at the very least hand off the lantern. However, for once, she was willing to accept a bit of fruitless curiosity about their actions. The two of them had caused the hairs on the back of Ysa's neck to stand up so straight it was as if they were going to detach from her skin and fly in the opposite direction. Both the Madam and her apprentice had the same look, that of someone deeply entrenched with crime. What sort of activity they engaged in was yet to be seen, but like her, they couldn't risk blowing their cover for the sake of gaining entry into the city. That could have only meant two things; either they were so infamous they would be arrested on sight or were well on their way to achieving such notoriety. No matter which it was, both were good enough reasons for Ysadette to walk generously far behind the Madam and her apprentice.

After she had spent some time following them in such a way, the Madam's apprentice seemed to be growing wary of Ysa's intentions. He glanced over his shoulder, making no effort to hide that he was changing his pace in response to hers. "Miss, I'm not sure what it is you think of us," he said, "but I can assure you that as it stands right now, we may as well be brothers and sisters in chains. We're breaking quite a few laws simply by being here. There isn't any need for you to so obviously distance yourself from us. Take my word for it, losing your way down here would be far worse than walking a few paces closer."

Ysadette raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that so? I'm afraid I don't know enough to make that distinction. I know nothing about either of you, actually. Who is to say that I shouldn't simply go my own way right now?"

"Nobody," The Madam replied in his stead. "Neither of us would stop you. But we're also not fools, and neither are you. If your knees were shaking any harder, I'm sure we'd be able to hear them clacking together. You need us right now."

"Is my concern unreasonable, then?" Ysa asked, pausing for a moment to make sure her knees were not, in fact, shaking. "What should I be feeling if not worry?"

"You should be feeling thankful," the Madam said. "You're bypassing every Legion soldier, every snooping Thalmor agent, hopefully avoiding every Gilded Sentry, and all without losing any coin for a trip most in your tenuous position wouldn't think twice about spending their last on."

"You make it sound as if you're doing me a favor."

"I am," the Madam said plainly. "I could've told Gulra to leave you standing on the riverbank, and he wouldn't have hesitated." She stopped the group and turned around to face Ysadette. "Where would you have gone then, I wonder?"

"Back to the Wawnet Inn for the night."

"And tomorrow morning after Nerussa tossed you out? Where to then?"

Ysadette glared at her.

The Madam exhaled in a manner that wouldn't have sounded out of place had she been dealing with a misbehaving child. "Regardless, if it's trust you're after, I don't blame you. This city has a habit of turning even the most honest people into scheming tricksters. It brings out the worst in all of us, it seems. Perhaps it's all the underhanded politics of the Elder Council bleeding out of the Palace and into the rest of us, perhaps it's something else nobody is aware of. No matter what it is, I won't pretend that reserving faith for only those who can earn such isn't a wise choice."

"If you sympathize with me, then what's your issue with me protecting my interests?"

"Truthfully, I don't. I'm simply pointing out the obvious. What I'm more concerned with," she gestured to just behind Ysadette, "is what kind of plan you have in mind for bringing someone like that with you."

"My Grandfather is none of your concern."

"Grandfather, eh?" the Madam repeated, setting both hands on her hips. "Tell me, what kind of fool do you take me for?"

"The kind that asks too many questions."

The Madam smirked condescendingly. "That may be, but I suppose one that asks too many questions is better than one who gives poor answers in return. Answers such as blatant lies about their relation to a traveling companion, for example."

Ysa shrugged and crossed her arms. "I don't believe I understand what you're getting at."

"Then allow me to explain it to you," the Madam said, strolling by her apprentice's side. "I can tell you have elven blood in you by looking at your face, but it's not Dunmeri. If he truly is your grandfather, then I'll assume you were adopted into his family. Most people probably wouldn't press further, so I won't either. However, what I still struggle with understanding is why you would risk taking an old man like him on such a dangerous trip." She stopped within an arm's reach of Ysadette. "What is it you're trying to hide him from, truly?"

"Is it not obvious?" Ysa asked. "He's mad. Nearly everyone I've met on the journey here would mistreat him or take advantage of him if they got the chance. I would likely be in danger as well. This is the safest way for us, I assure you."

The Madam shook her head. "Safer than waiting to get passports for you both after this uproar has ended? Is avoiding a few jeers truly worth putting your lives at risk by breaking the law or possibly being caught up in a riot?"

Ysadette bit her tongue before she could curse. "Why are you so intent on asking me about my business? Are two poor travelers truly that interesting to you?"

"Not particularly, they aren't," the Madam said. "Then again, you aren't just two 'poor travelers.' It's plain to see that you're individuals with plenty of secrets to hide between you. But don't mistake my prodding for something it isn't. I'm only asking you these simple questions now so that someone with ill-intent doesn't ask more difficult ones later. If you aren't already in the habit of thinking through unasked questions ahead of time, you'll be more likely to falter in your conviction when it matters most. It's never too early to practice lying comfortably."

Ysa rolled her eyes. "Another favor, I presume?"

"A show of goodwill. That's what you've been wanting from both of us, haven't you? I've met many fugitives over the years. I've even helped them find new identities for the right amount of coin. The clever ones knew to take my advice, and they came up with such elaborate lies they may as well have been telling the truth. The rest I didn't bother to concern myself with any longer than I had to. Take it from me, your cover story likely needs work. You only need to think of it from the perspective of someone who's yet to hear it. Being sheepish and speaking vaguely will only make a curious guard all the more suspicious. And whether my words are a threat or a warning, that's for you to decide. For your sake, I truly hope you take them as a warning."

Ysadette frowned. "I believe I'd be able to tell the difference if you weren't always hiding your face while speaking to me."

The Madam, again sighing as if she considered Ysadette little more than a passing nuisance, reached out from underneath her cloak and threw back her hood. Already she had showcased a bearing similar to many of the noble families Ysa had only been allowed to glimpse while at home in High Rock. Now, the Madam revealed a beauty to match their stature as well. She was Redguard, her complexion that of rich mahogany, and her wavy hair fell down to her shoulders where loose, swooping curls turned it upward. Faint wrinkles on her cheeks and on the edges of her lips told of her age, perhaps near to forty years old although definitely not any younger than that. The soft contours of her face were drawn into an expression that was expected due to her effortless command of both the ferryman and her apprentice. While not a towering figure, she was no less an intimidating woman. She was serious and uncompromising, and her wide-set eyes in their hypnotic red held in them a knowing gaze that made any further words bubbling on Ysadette's tongue die off with startling rapidity.

The Madam's lips pulled into a tight curve rife with hauteur before returning to a somewhat peculiar resting position. "And before you begin prattling on about still needing names, too, mine is Halora." She gestured to her apprentice. "This is Luciros. So, are you happy now? Can we move past all this?"

Ysadette nodded, an almost instinctual desire to protest deflating itself. Without much else to say to her, Halora and Luciros continued onward, leaving her to follow if she so desired. And as she did, Ysadette squeezed Ulpo's skeletal-thin hand tightly, feeling his knuckles shift as his fingers wriggled between hers. She took hold of her necklace as well, restraining her urge to inhale deeply and exhale long, or to strike up another debate. It didn't matter if she was ready. It didn't matter if she could deceive everyone in the Empire. Not much besides what was directly ahead mattered anymore. She didn't have a choice. She was here now, and there was no turning back. No more time to plan. No more time to think. The moment she had what she needed, she would have to flee the city. She would have to flee as fast as she could, and go so far not even the gods could find her. Then, she would solve every last one of Ulpo's mysteries, discover every secret in his cursed mind, and finally, finally, set him free. It was the last promise she could bear to make, this last blood oath to all she had sacrificed.

She rubbed her thumb over the sapphire of her necklace. And to you, too.

Later, as they arrived at an intersection where the paths split in four directions, the light provided by the lantern had begun to dim. When they stopped, Luciros lowered it to his chest.

"Something the matter?" Ysadette asked, standing on her toes to peek over his shoulder.

He shook his head. "I'm afraid the lantern isn't going to last much longer. I didn't anticipate us taking the scenic route this time. Otherwise, I would've brought more oil."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't I suggest the very thing just in case?" Halora asked, sounding as exasperated as Ysa felt.

Luciros shrugged. "No correction necessary. You did tell me that very thing, in fact. You were right as always, Madam. However, as much as I'd love to hear a lecture on preparedness, I'm afraid it'll have to wait until later. We don't have long, so perhaps we ought to pick up our pace before we find ourselves in total darkness."

Ysadette's ears pricked up, goosebumps turning her skin rough. "T-That won't be an issue." She brushed aside her cloak and raised her hand. Both Halora and Luciros watched closely. Willing her magicka into her palms, Ysa brought forth a shimmering ball of pale light. "See? I can use this. It's a very rudimentary spell, and I can keep it going for quite some time with ease. So long as you keep me headed in the proper direction, getting lost in the darkness shouldn't be..."

Luciros blanched to a ghastly white. He seized her hand, quenching the magic and returning them all to the dim lantern glow. Before she could wrest free of his grip, he looked her dead in the eyes, shaking his head. It was a warning in silence. "Gods damn it," he spat, snapping his head toward Halora. "You don't think that was enough for them, do you?"

Halora didn't waste a second. She looked between the two different paths forward and let out a hiss. "I wouldn't doubt it. We need to get out of here. Now."

Ysadette had only a moment to ensure Ulpo was with her before the two dashed onward without her. She threw out another spell, quickening her steps.

"Stop using magic!" Luciros shouted, nearly tripping over himself as he looked back at her. "All you're doing is giving them a stronger trail to follow!"

"Who?" Ysa asked.

"Don't you know anything, miss?" he said, quietly panting between his words. "Nearly all magic is outlawed in the city. The Battlemage and his Gilded Sentries keep the order, and with everything that's happening up above, I'm sure they haven't been more than a stone's throw away from us this entire time. Every time you cast a spell, you may as well be screaming for them to come and get you. If you're caught using unauthorized magic, they'll throw you in prison. They'll throw us all in prison!"

A chill crawled up Ysadette's spine with a sinister pace. How could she have been so stupid? Tracking magical energies was among the first things she had learned about the subject. She had used that very skill to find the witch near Chorrol. She should have known others were capable of doing the same. She did know that. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Ysa gritted her teeth and ran harder. Keeping her eyes on Halora as she hurried through the tunnels, up and down the hills of them, she tried to steady her heart as it grimly lurched toward panic. Soon, the dying lantern belched out its last glimmers of light, plunging them all headlong into the welcome arms of engulfing darkness. The crash of broken glass filled the tunnel a second after. Luciros had launched the lantern into the wall, probably. Then, with only footfalls and ragged breathing to guide her, Ysadette resisted her instincts to cast a spell that would aid her.

"Keep up!" Halora bellowed after a short time, not sounding even the slightest bit worn. "We're almost there! Just another minute, and we'll be coming into a chamber! We can exit to the surface there!"

The spell Ysa had cast was dwindling quickly. Her steps were slower and heavier than they had been. But ahead, illuminated by moonlight that streamed through heavy grate bars above, the chamber was coming into view. That small comfort could not have come a moment too soon. As they came to a stop underneath the grate, Ysa took a moment to trace over the room. Straight ahead, there was a section of the wall that had collapsed. More tunnels awaited beyond it, but there appeared to be a steep drop off into total darkness. They couldn't possibly be headed that way. A set of stairs climbed up the wall to the left, leading to a bridge that spanned the width of the room. Rusty fence gates leading to narrow corridors stood on either side. That had to be it. As Ysa began to move towards the stairs, Halora held out her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

If the red in Halora's eyes could have grown any deeper, Ysa could not have imagined it. Her face drawing into an almost teeth-baring scowl, she shot a glance over at Ysadette, and then to Luciros. "Some advice for both of you. If we all get separated, don't try to fight them alone. Just do whatever you can to escape. Slow them down, distract them, whatever you have to do. I've dealt with them before. You don't want to drag things out any longer than you have to."

Before they came into view, Ysadette's skin erupted into goosebumps at their presence. She pushed Ulpo into the tunnels behind them and shushed him. He nodded, grinned, and tucked himself into a corner just out of sight.

Like a massive hand had reached down and forced open the way, the metal grate bars guarding the way to the surface spread themselves wide. Two figures - Gilded Sentries, surely - clad in extravagant robes and flowing capes descended through the opening. The air appeared to ripple around them. Magicka yielded to their control without resistance. One was Altmer. The other an Imperial. Both had a sword at their hip with the same ornate design on their sheathes. Steel cuffs hugging the length of their forearms, specifically the left on both Sentries, clanked as they alighted on the bridge. Shining golden runes were inscribed on the outer rim of their cuffs, but Ysa didn't need to read them to know what they were. The thick padding of their clothing confirmed it to her. Against bare skin, they would render her harmless. They leveled their attention on her. They knew who she was already, it seemed. The magic trail they followed surely ended with her. She prepared a reflecting spell in one hand and telekinesis in the other. In response, they readied their own magic.

Halora drew a hidden shortsword from underneath her cloak. With an impressive leap, she went from the ground to the bridge, pouncing onto the Imperial Sentry. He barely had time to react before she brought him to the floor below. Her arm raised high, she prepared to plunge her blade into his chest. But the Altmer Sentry, with an upward motion, sent her sailing. Halora crashed backward into the ceiling. Just as she started falling, Ysadette spun her upright with telekinesis, letting her find her footing against the wall. She launched off, careening towards the Altmer. Halora slammed him against the fence gate. He ducked out of the way of her ensuing strike, then knocked her away. Drawing his sword as he advanced, he slashed. Halora dodged. With a twisted flip, she brought her heel against his ribs. Groaning, he loosed a healing spell and stumbled over the ledge. Upon reaching the ground, he rolled away. Halora charged toward him. She wouldn't let up. Clashing, they tumbled over the drop-off and into the dark tunnels beyond.

The Imperial Sentry didn't bother to rush to his comrade's aid. Balling his hand into a tight fist as he stood up, still visibly dazed from Halora's quick assault, he loosed one of the cuffs from his arm. It darted toward Ysadette with dizzying speed, runes shining like sunlight. The wind of it rushing by blew her hood off as she ducked. Like avoiding the blade of a guillotine. The next cuff followed close behind. Both crashed into the wall behind her.

Luciros hurled a glass bottle at the Gilded Sentry. The Sentry waved his hand and a deep yellow light surrounded his legs. He jumped high just as the bottle smashed against the bridge. Whatever mixture that had been released immediately went to work on the stones. They sagged, soon dripping like running water. When the Sentry landed safely away, Luciros already had another bottle ready. With an overhanded swing, he lobbed the second of his devious concoctions. Without any apparent difficulty, the Sentry avoided it as well. Ysadette, seeing an opportunity, reached out to the bottle with her spell. She yanked it back at him. With a twirl, he caught it. Spinning again, he pitched at Luciros. Ysa shot a tiny spark from her fingertips. When it connected, the bottle erupted into a splash, coating the ground in front of Luciros.

With a grimace, Luciros reached for another potion. He flicked the cork out of the bottle and sipped it down. A moment later, and with a quick apologetic glance in Ysadette's direction, all that remained of his presence was a tuft of dust. Ysa cast her vision spell, catching sight of Luciros's presence as he made for the drop-off ahead.

Leaving you to fend for yourself, I suppose?" the Sentry said, removing his cape. He adjusted the cuffs on his arm, tracing over the runes with his gloved fingertip. "It makes no difference. Please, stop your spell-casting and come with me. This doesn't need to progress any further than it already has. I won't harm you. You have my word."

He seemed sincere. But sincerity, according to Halora, was non-existent in the city. Ysadette readied her spells once more. Mimicking her decision, a dejected sigh escaped his lips.

He took initiative, making another attempt with his cuffs. Ysa swirled it around herself with telekinesis, dipping it in what was left of Luciros's potion. While the cuff was still sizzling, she pushed it back at the Sentry. A burst of ice from his palms froze it solid. He drew his sword to split the ice block, then sheathed it once more. With a fluid motion, crackling electricity built around his arm. It leaped from cuff to cuff, headed downward. With a flash of blue, he released a bolt of lightning.

Ysa cast a spell to absorb it. She took the lightning into her core, allowing it to travel over her. Her hair stood in every direction as electricity rushed from her head to her toes, then back again. Lightning shot out from her palm, reinforced with some of her own magicka. The Sentry threw up a ward. It shattered, protecting him from his own returned spell, but only just. With a nod – perhaps in respect – he shook his hand back and forth, switching to another spell. Magical energies kindled around him. His aim was to end this quickly. From the outset, Ysa assumed that both of the Gilded Sentries were far above her own skill level. Halora seemed to believe so, anyway. The comfort they took in that belief would be their undoing.

Ysa freed a roaring burst of fire from her hands, purposely obscuring as much space between them as possible. Catching a stone with telekinesis, she ran it through the acid still left on the ground. With a ferocious swing, she sent it toward him. By the time the flames cleared, it was too late. The stone, barely anything left of it but enough to deliver the corrosive substance, collided with the Sentry's leg. He had no choice but to stop his charging and deal with it before it burned through his clothes. He ripped the cloth away, stopping just below his knee. With a sneer, he focused more of his magicka. Sparks flew from corner to corner, a contained storm steadily brewing around them.

Ysa stood her ground. Her skin tingling, knowing her time was running short, she launched a ball of ice at the man. With her free hand, she reached out to the cuff embedded in the wall behind her and gripped it tightly with telekinesis.

The Sentry drew his sword and slashed at the ice ball, shattering it.

Perfect.

Ysa let out a shout and tugged at the cuff with all her strength. It flung from the wall, a blur as it headed straight for the Sentry's ankle. With an unyielding grip and a clang like a final bell toll, it wrapped around his leg. The runes shimmered as their horrible work began. His eyes widened in shock. The sparks filling the room lessened. But Ysa wasn't done yet. She took the second of the discarded cuffs and the other one that had been melted. With the melted cuff, she took aim at his chest. Off his center, he clearly wasn't thinking. He raised his arm in defense and tried to move, accomplishing little more than having his sleeve reduced to tatters as the jagged piece of metal rocketed by him. The other cuff – still ready to function – followed close behind. It clamped down on his wrist, and he immediately began prying at it.

Fear locked-down its place in his expression as he glared at Ysadette, no doubt realizing he had played into her trap. The electricity he had expended so much energy to build hurried to disappear. His magicka was fading fast and with no way to hide the evidence, so he stopped his attempts to free himself. It was already too late. Instead, he glanced back at the tunnels where Luciros and Halora had gone, pausing for a moment to listen as the sounds of their battle with his comrade continued. He rested his hand on his sword, apparently weighing his options, but then his eyes darted up at the grate. Gritting his teeth, he released the hilt and leaped upward, catching one of the bars. He hoisted himself up and out of the tunnels, leaving Ysadette down in the wrecked chamber.

When he was gone, Ysa waited a few moments before she exhaled the breath she had been withholding. Had the duel lasted any longer, she would've found herself in a much similar position. Her own limits had always been apparent to her, but as they loomed over her this time, her hands shook. She turned her palms over, curling and extending her fingers in hopes the action would relieve her tension. With the sound of her thumping heartbeat growing louder, she looked up at the surface. That way out may not be for the best, but she was close now. Closer than ever before.

The clashing sounds of Luciros and Halora as they struggled against the other Sentry farther in the tunnels were distant. And yet, they were close enough that Ysa considered them. She could handle one of the Gilded Sentries, obviously. But another? She didn't want to try. She'd rather be elsewhere before reinforcements arrived.

It was a chance she had been given. Not the one she wanted nor the one she hoped for, but a chance nonetheless, and one she knew she couldn't waste a second before taking. "Grandfather, hurry!" she called out. "We need to be on our way!"

Ulpo peeked around the corner at the sound of her voice, then crossed the chamber toward her. "D'oh, my," he said, shuffling his feet back and forth but remaining stationary. "We've been walking for such a long time! All this running and jumping and such! Do you want me to carry you for a bit?"

Ysa set his hood on his head and dusted off his shoulders. Once he was looking somewhat less ragged, she opened one of the pouches around her waist and removed the small vial of "jelly-potions" Suleh had packed for her as a gift. Inside, all three colors of the squishy blobs looked as appetizing as ever. However, it was only one of both the green and blue jelly-potions she needed. Not a single red, thank the Divines. With a silent prayer to Dibella that they wouldn't turn her guts to ash upon ingestion, Ysa tossed the two jelly-potions into the back of her mouth and chewed. Before she could swallow, the sting of her tired eyes and the weight of her exhausted muscles disappeared, leaving her as alert as Suleh's note had promised. "Perhaps later," she said, doing her best to reassure Ulpo as they started toward the stairs. "For now, we need to find another way out of here."

Giving one last look in the direction of Halora and Luciros as she stopped on the bridge overlooking the chamber, she discovered something peculiar. Whatever their reasons for coming to the city, a vague wish lived within her heart that they would escape from the other Gilded Sentry. But the Imperial City awaited her, and in it, the Arcane University Archives. The goal that had overshadowed her every step, her every moment, from the woods north of Kvatch all the way across the breadth of western Cyrodiil, now loomed over Ysadette as she was finally about set foot in capital of the Empire.