-The Journal of Inigo the Brave, Morning Star 30 4E202-

Windhelm, Journal! She has gone to Windhelm! Why would that foolish stupid girl ever go there, of all places? It is the worst place in all of Skyrim! She hates it! I hate it! We both hate it! And now I have to travel to a city I hate in this horrible boat which is far too small and the cold dark water is far too close … bah! When I find her I am going to wring her skinny neck for putting me through all this! I am going to slap her senseless! I am going to dump a bucket of cold ocean water on her! I am going to … be very, very relieved to find her safe and well. She had better be safe and well. There have been rumours of murders in Windhelm, all of pretty young women … oh Moons! Go faster, boat! Why, why, did she not summon me to her? I cannot protect her if I drown in the ocean!

Horrible boat! Horrible water! Hsssssss!

-Morning Star 30th, 4E 202-

Windhelm is just as awful as I remember. Worse, now it's the middle of winter and everything is that much more cold and bitter, city and people both. It suits my current mood perfectly. I arrived yesterday evening and went straight to the New Gnisis Cornerclub where I drank myself senseless with their awful sujamma, then stumbled over to Candlehearth Hall after learning the Cornerclub had no beds. Elda was aghast to see me lurch in at such a late hour — didn't I know it wasn't safe on the streets after dark for young women such as myself? — but I didn't care.

I lay in bed for hours this morning, not having the strength to rise and face … myself. My mistakes. The hangover didn't help, either. Eventually Elda banged on the door to turf me out. She had to do the same to eject me from the bathing room another hour or two later.

I'm sitting now in front of the fire, the heat of which I can't seem to feel. I feel so alone. So stupid. So disgusted with myself.

I was so happy. He's the first man I've ever really felt something for. Ever … loved. Even admitting that in private words nobody else will ever read terrifies me, but what does it matter now? I've ruined whatever chance we had for happiness. I'm sorry, Lady Mara. I have failed You.

Inigo's probably very worried. I feel awful for slipping away without a word, but I couldn't face him, not after I both proved him right and let him down in such a spectacular fashion. I should have left a note, at least. I wasn't thinking. Just another way I've failed everyone who matters to me, I suppose.

I wonder whether the Cornerclub is open yet.

I was very deep in my cups at the Cornerclub that night when I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. I had a brief, irrational thought that it was Felix — but then I heard Inigo's familiar voice, mingling relief, concern and anger. I began to cry. The hurt in his voice was too much to bear. I apologised over and over, slurring my words, to which he sighed and said, "Kirilee. I am not angry with you. I was just very worried and very frightened."

He pulled me from the barstool, paid my tab, then led me back to Candlehearth Hall and decanted me into a bed. I mumbled my drunken gratitude to him even as I snuggled in closer to Meeko and drifted to sleep.

The next morning I told him everything, though of course he already knew.

"But why did you leave Solitude? And why come here, of all places?"

I couldn't give him an answer. I had prepared a lie — that Viarmo wanted me to spend some time establishing myself in Windhelm in case he ever needed me in Ulfric's court — but I'd had enough of lying. As for the truth … I didn't know.

"I think you came here to punish yourself," Inigo said. We were sitting side by side on my bed, Inigo having brought me a steaming mug of coffee to take the edge off my hangover.

"What do you mean?"

"You hate it here. You thought you deserved to be miserable, and so you came to the place you knew would make you the most miserable of all."

"Perhaps. I don't know."

"I understand the impulse. But it was foolish. Come, finish your coffee, and let us go home."

I shook my head, my eyes wild. "I can't. I can't face … No. I can't go home. Not yet."

Inigo regarded me for a moment, then sighed. "Very well. Then what do you wish to do instead?"

"I suppose … let's spend the day here. I'm definitely in no condition to travel. And then … I don't know. Maybe we could go to Whiterun?" I gasped, and gripped my mug. "Oh no. I've missed my day with Danica! I hope she won't be too cross … but I don't think I could summon any healing energy in this state anyway. And I haven't finished the spell she wanted me to learn either." Tears began to leak from the corners of my eyes again. Inigo drew me close.

"She will understand. Come now, let us get some breakfast into you, and then we will see whether we can find anything to distract us from this awful city."

It didn't take long to find that distraction, though I doubted it was of the sort Inigo had in mind. We had barely left Candlehearth Hall when we found her — facedown in a patch of crimson snow and undeniably, overwhelmingly, very, very dead. It took a few stunned seconds for my brain to process what I was seeing. What lay at our feet was hardly even recognisable as a body.

A scream tore from my throat even as a shouting Inigo grabbed me by the arm and pulled me away. An instant later I collapsed into the snow and vomited up my breakfast against the foot of the wall. I retched and heaved until my empty stomach hurt from the contractions, unable to stop long after all that was falling from my lips was a thin yellow bile.

Even after I'd finished I couldn't make myself turn around. Never in my whole life had I seen anything that could compare to … that. Despite everything I'd experienced and survived since coming to Skyrim, this was by far the worst. All I could hope was that whatever had been done to the poor woman had happened after she was already dead.

Within seconds we were surrounded by a group of guards and ushered to the side, where I gratefully crouched, arms wrapped tightly around my chest, rocking back and forth and trying not to pass out. Meeko whimpered beside me, pawing at his nose. I couldn't see what the guards were doing, and didn't particularly want to.

In short order a small crowd had gathered, people muttering and craning their heads for a better look. I felt a ragged blanket drape around my shoulders and heard the voice of a child. Her name was Sofie, I remembered in a daze. A young orphan. I'd met her on my first visit to Windhelm. She'd sold me some flowers, and I'd given her enough extra coin for a few changes of warm clothes.

"It's so sad," she said. "Miss Susanna was so nice. She snuck me food from the kitchen sometimes. Nobody else ever did. What'll I do now?"

Susanna — the maid at the inn. When had I last seen her? Certainly since I had arrived … but no, my memories were too fogged from all the drinking of the previous two days.

Another voice broke into my reverie; a deeper, melodic lilt.

"Sofie, love. Dinnae look. Run up to the barracks, tell the man there Tobias needs another four, if he can spare them. You'll remember that? Good girl. Thanks, love. Here's a few septims for your time."

The man then turned to us. Tall, lean and dark-haired, he was one of the guards; a detective, wishing to question us about what we had seen.

I stood up and handed Sofie back her blanket, after which she immediately melted into the crowd. Inigo and I then answered the detective's roundabout questions for the best part of half an hour. No, we hadn't seen what happened. We had found her already like this. We had met her once or twice, but didn't really know her. No, we didn't live in Windhelm; we were residents of Solitude, just visiting. No, we hadn't been in the city on the dates he provided. Why were we here? Well, because I was a bard, and frequently travelled. Yes, with the College. My name was Kirilee, my friend was called Inigo.

At this the detective's face lit up, his whole demeanour changing. "Why, I've heard of you before! You're that new Breton bard at the College, aye?" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "You ken, lots of the cityfolk may be a wee bit wary of outsiders, and I understand why you've stayed away from Windhelm — but there are plenty of us who dinnae think all visitors ought to be treated with suspicion instead of hospitality." He smiled broadly, and his voice returned to normal. "It's a real privilege to have met you, Miss Kirilee. Name's Tobias."

"Thank you," I said, my voice still weak. "Do you need anything else?"

"Nae, I think I've got everything down. Thanks for your assistance. If you'd nae mind hanging around the city for another day or two, though, I'd appreciate it. Just in case we need to revisit your statements, you ken. Will that be a problem?"

I shook my head. While unwelcome, the request was not unexpected.

"Great," Tobias said. "Come to think of it — I dinnae suppose you'll be playing at the inn later, will you?"

I hadn't exactly planned to, given my previous reception at Candlehearth Hall, but the eager excitement in Tobias' eyes broke down my resolve. At least I'd have one attentive audience member. Two, given Inigo probably wouldn't end up befriending everyone in this particular inn and talking them into playing cards with him all night.

"I can probably arrange to," I said, causing Tobias to break into an ear-to-ear grin.

"Great. That's really great. I'll bring all the lads, they'll be thrilled. I cannae wait."

Even aside from the grisly way it began, spending the day in Windhelm very thoroughly put my own problems into perspective. Inigo insisted that we not stay inside, correctly assuming that I would have brooded the whole day about either Felix or the dead woman, and so we instead spent several miserable hours tramping around the dirty snow-blown streets.

Windhelm probably was the best place I could have come to, I soon realised. A day in the city — the actual city, rather than the corner of a seedy bar — and suddenly relationship problems no longer seemed so life-or-death, in comparison to the actual life-or-death problems faced by the people living there. Rampant poverty and inequality, racism and intolerance the likes of which I had never seen … by the time we returned to Candlehearth Hall in the afternoon a murder hardly felt all that out of place.

While it might not have been a particularly enjoyable outing, it nevertheless achieved what Inigo had hoped. The shock of discovering the dead body as well as my own self-loathing over Felix blew away in the icy air, to be replaced by a bone-deep pity for the city's immigrant Dunmer and Argonians, and a burning anger against the awful Nord locals who treated them so terribly.

"This is all Ulfric Stormcloak's fault," I growled to Inigo over a cup of cheap wine. I suspected Elda had watered it down on purpose. "It's his ideology all these locals have adopted. It's no surprise that this city's plagued by murders."

"Keep your voice down," Inigo hissed. "This is not the place to say such things. Besides, the dead woman was a Nord. I do not like Mister Ulfric any more than you do, but I do not think this can be laid at his feet."

"Of course it can. I told you, a city's its ruler in miniature. Remember how long these murders have been happening? With still nobody caught? If Ulfric Stormcloak really cared about the problem, it would have been solved by now."

"It is not so simple as that. No ruler is all powerful. I'm sure even your father —"

"Shut up! Don't talk about that here." My eyes darted around the room, but nobody paid us any mind, outside of the ever-present dirty glances Inigo had been receiving since his arrival. We hadn't seen a single other Khajiit in the city.

Inigo rolled his eyes. "Oh, so now she cares about being overheard."

However much it galled me, I knew Inigo was right to school me to caution. So I reined in my anger at Ulfric and his horrible Stormcloaks and instead turned my mind to a problem we could freely discuss: that of the murdered woman. From what we could overhear, everyone else was discussing the incident just as obsessively. A handful of other women had suffered a similar fate over the past months, but this was the first to have been found in such an open and public location.

We wondered whether Tobias and his team had made any progress. Would this be the tragedy that finally prevented another? I longed to hear Tobias' lilting accent reassuring us that they were on track to solving the murders, but as he hadn't arrived at the inn by the time I had to get up and perform I assumed that he would probably be working through the evening. A little disappointed, I resigned myself to a night of bored disinterest from my audience, with a lack of heckling the best I could hope for.

As such, I was delighted when partway through my first set the door opened with a flurry of snow to admit the merry-faced detective, stamping snow off his boots as he shot me a grin and a cheery wave. He took a seat with Inigo, waving away Inigo's attempts to draw him into conversation while I finished my set. Instead he simply watched me play. I had to admit to feeling very flattered. It was unusual to hold someone's undivided attention while playing in an inn — the atmosphere didn't really lend itself to it.

Tobias leapt from his seat as I approached. "That was great. You play wonderfully, Kirilee."

"Thanks," I said, a warm glow in my chest. I accepted the goblet of wine Inigo pushed across the table and sat down beside him. "It's nice to see you again. We were thinking you might not be able to make it."

"Aye, I should nae actually be here," he said with a sheepish grin. "We're flat out on this case. But I promised I'd come see you play, and I keep my promises. Besides, Ulfric Stormcloak himself would've had to personally order me nae to come before I'd have missed this. And I'm glad I came. You play beautifully."

I blushed. "That's very kind of you, Tobias. Thank you."

Inigo leaned towards him. "Does that mean the case is not going well? You do not know who did it?"

"Nae." Tobias' mouth twisted. "It's just the same as every other time. Nobody saw anything, and there's almost nae evidence. She was killed the same way as the others, but it dinnae help much to know how when we have nae idea why or where."

"What do you mean?" I said. "She — she wasn't k-killed just outside?"

"Nae."

"How do you know? There was very much blood there, yes?" Inigo asked.

Tobias enthusiastically launched into an explanation of blood pooling and viscosity, but stopped when he noticed me becoming increasingly pale and queasy. "I'm sorry Kirilee, I dinnae — anyway, the important thing is we ken she was killed somewhere else. But all this gods-damned snow makes it impossible to figure out where. Between the time the b— sorry, the time the crime takes place and the time it's discovered too much snow has fallen and we cannae find anything. Dead end, every time. Nae pun intended."

"This is why they are all still unsolved," Inigo said, shooting me a sideways glance.

"Aye." Tobias sighed. "Speaking of which, I'd better get back to it. I'm sorry I cannae stay longer, but you ken how it is. Lovely to see you both, and to hear you play, Kirilee."

"Wait," I said, as he stood to leave. An idea had struck me. "You said you can't track the … original crime location because of the snow, right? Well — what about Meeko?" I gestured to where he was snoozing at Inigo's feet.

"What about him?"

"He's got a fantastic nose. You saw how he was this morning. If there's a trail, he might be able to find it through the snow."

"That's brilliant!" Tobias said, while Inigo nodded eagerly. "You'd really do that? Help like that? You're both civilians, it's really far more than I can ask of you …"

"Of course," I said. The sickening tangle of clothing, limbs and blood which had once been a smiling serving girl still lurked behind my eyes every time I blinked. No matter how it turned my stomach, I would do anything in my power to prevent that from happening to anyone else.

We met Tobias the next morning outside the inn, where Susanna's body had lain. A flimsy barrier of rope had been pegged around the site, which I was half surprised to see had actually been respected. The large circle of purest white snow stood out just as much from the surrounding grey as it had when stained scarlet the previous day. I shuddered. It was all too easy to picture the bloody snow sleeping just below the surface.

Meeko clearly knew what was coming, and was just as unhappy about it as I was. Inigo had had to bodily drag him outside, and he hid behind me when he spotted Tobias approaching — or tried to, anyway. My thin legs were far from adequate to conceal his furry bulk.

"Nae very happy to see me, boy?" Tobias said with an easy grin.

"I don't think he's very keen on being a detective dog," I said.

"Ahh, now there's a real shame. Because I have here the pay every brave detective dog is due." He withdrew from his pocket a paper bag, at which Meeko's ears immediately pricked. "Horker jerky. Windhelm specialty. But if Meeko here dinnae want it …"

Meeko immediately trotted out from behind my legs and sat primly in front of Tobias. His tail thumped into the snow, and every line of his body radiated professional keenness. For the first time since Felix had approached me in the Skeever, I laughed.

"My parents have a dog very like him," Tobias explained, once Meeko had picked up the scent and we were following him through the narrow streets. "Great big lass called Elska. Cut from the same cloth as your Meeko, I'd wager — very loyal, very smart?"

"And very stubborn," I said.

"Aye. Elska has to be bribed into doing anything she dinnae want to. I guessed the same might work for him."

"Smart man," I said, the corners of my mouth twitching.

An hour or two later, having wound through half the city, Meeko stopped in front of a nondescript looking house with an overgrown garden, blanketed in a thick layer of virgin snow. He barked and wagged his tail, clearly very pleased with himself.

"Good boy, Meeko. Such a clever boy," I cooed, slipping him some of Tobias' jerky, while Inigo knocked on the door and peered through the windows.

"Dinnae bother," Tobias said, sounding troubled. "That's Hjerim."

"What do you mean? Is that significant?" I asked.

"Aye … It was the house of poor Nilsine Shatter-Shield. One of the previous victims."

My stomach dropped. "Oh."

Tobias pointed at the house next door. "That's where her parents live."

My stomach plummeted even further. I tried to suppress the grisly thought, but Inigo voiced it anyway:

"Was Miss Nilsine perhaps murdered while her parents slept just a few feet away?"

I shuddered. "Let's not think about that. And let's definitely not bring it up to her mother."

"Aye," Tobias said again. "We need to talk to her though. She'll have the key to the house. Well, I will. You two stay here — sorry Meeko, you three." He scratched Meeko's ears and flashed us a grin which looked strained and forced.

"This is beginning to look ugly," Inigo said in a low voice as we waited outside Hjerim, hugging ourselves, breath misting in the frigid air.

Tobias returned about twenty minutes later, his face even more drawn than before.

"Got it." He held up a small key.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"Fine," he said, with another forced smile. "Nae my favourite part of the job. But it is what it is, eh?" He glanced at the house. He seemed to be thinking aloud as he said, "I probably ought to go get some of the others, proper protocol and that, but I'm reluctant to leave … What if there's another one in there? Aye," he said, visibly steeling himself, then shooting me a wink. "I'll be back before you can blink. If you hear any manly screaming, run for some guards, eh? Tell them the blockhead's done it again."

"Do not be foolish," Inigo said. "We will come with you."

Tobias shook his head. "Nae. Tracking's one thing, but this is an active crime scene. I cannae put your lives in danger like that."

"It wouldn't be the worst danger we've been in," I said with a wan smile. "And Inigo's right. You can't go in alone. Inigo and Meeko are both excellent fighters, and I can help too, if need be. I can heal, and I have this." I pulled my little flute from an inside pocket, and showed it to Tobias. He barked a laugh.

"Going to distract the nasty serial killer with pretty music? … Mind you, I've come up with worse plans."

"Something like that," I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. "I can also sense if there's any magic. That might be important."

"All right, all right," Tobias said, holding his hands up in surrender. "We'll go together. Lucky thing for me you two were in town, eh?"

As soon as we opened the door, the house felt … wrong. I smelled the metallic tang of relatively fresh blood, and a sharp-sickly magical stench I immediately recognised, though had never smelled before.

"Necromancy." My voice sounded strangely dead and flat in the empty wooden house.

"You're sure?"

I nodded. "Every fledgling mage is taught to know the … smell of it, I suppose. I'm sure." I swallowed a few times to settle my stomach, and we very carefully, very slowly, began to move around the empty house.

Tobias pointed to some staining on the wooden floor. "Blood. See how it streaks? That points to a body being dragged. Maybe bodies."

"Delightful," I said.

After some time searching, I spotted something glinting on an otherwise empty shelf. It was an amulet, housing a jade carving of a skull that I imagined I could feel glaring at me. I recoiled sharply as I reached out to take it.

"What is it?" Inigo said.

An awful, malevolent power radiated from the necklace. It battered against my magical senses, making the hair on my arms lift and my stomach churn.

"It's … horrible," I said to Inigo. "Magic. Awful magic. Take it, please. I don't want to touch it."

Frowning, Inigo pocketed it.

As we were examining the amulet Meeko had been behaving very strangely, sniffing and scratching and whining at an empty wardrobe in the corner of the room. Curious, I drew nearer — and that awful reek of foul necromantic magic suddenly intensified, making me double over with nausea.

"There — look in there," I gasped. I didn't think I could take one step closer.

Tobias pulled the doors of the wardrobe open. I heard him scrabbling for a few seconds, then his exclamation, "It has a false back! Just a mo —" and the sound of wood sliding. Then Inigo swore loudly and Meeko erupted into barking.

Still unsteady, I stumbled upright, but Inigo barred my way, pushing me back from the secret door. I caught a glimpse through his outstretched arms anyway, and immediately wished I hadn't. Blood and viscera and bones with the flesh barely stripped off, and some sort of altar … I allowed Inigo to lead me away, and huddled in a corner feeling cold and clammy, trying to settle my stomach as he went back in. He emerged a minute or so later looking more disturbed than I had ever seen him. He was also holding a slim book.

"It is the killer's journal. Take it. Tobias and I will check the rest of the house. But I think we have found what we needed."

While the two men did a sweep of the house I retreated outside to examine the journal. What I read … Mara's mercy, it was awful. I couldn't comprehend the kind of sick and twisted mind that had penned those words. Horrified, I could barely make myself keep reading, but forced myself to make it all the way through. The killer was … using the body parts of the murdered women for some kind of revolting necromantic ritual. There was more, too; things that made my stomach heave, and made me want to fling the book into a fire. I prayed Nilsine's parents never found out any of what I read within those awful pages, or that the killer had been using their daughter's house for such twisted experiments.

Inigo and Tobias soon joined me outside — there had been nothing else — and I related to them the essence of what I had read. Inigo looked nauseated. Tobias refused to tell me any more of what had been in the hidden room.

"And the amulet?"

He took it from Inigo and turned it over in his hands. "Nasty thing, aye, I can feel what you mean."

I cocked my head. It seemed Tobias had a little magic in him.

"I dinnae ken what this might mean. Calixto Corrium might — he has a wee museum, in the south-eastern corner of the city. Collects curiosities. Odd man, but he'd be the person most likely to recognise something like this." He thought for a moment. "Perhaps it's best if you two go talk to him, much as I dinnae like the idea of involving you further. But, well … I've a hunch. And I think we may learn more if he dinnae ken there's anything official yet. Plus there's your … magic smell, or whatever that was. Would you mind, terribly? If you can do that, I'll round up some mates to secure the house."

I handed him the journal. "Of course. You can count on us."

"Thanks," he said. "I'll definitely owe you both a drink tonight, or several."

We found Calixto Corrium's museum tucked away in a corner near the Grey Quarter. Meeko was growling even before we opened the door, and as soon as he saw the wrinkled little man sitting inside he launched himself at him, barking and snarling furiously. I threw my arms around Meeko's neck, barely restraining him, while Inigo apologised to Mr Corrium. Dragging Meeko with us, we backed out of the museum.

"What were you thinking, Meeko?" Inigo began. "You are not usually so rude! Why —"

"No, Inigo," I interrupted. "Meeko was right."

I knew why he had attacked. As I had rushed forward to grapple with my dog I, too, had caught a whiff of the unmistakable, unmaskable stench of necromancy.

We had a quick whispered discussion about how to proceed.

"Do we go to Tobias?" I said. "Or go back in and tell him the jig is up?"

"No. I do not think so. We do not have any evidence yet, and it would not be good to tip Mister Calixto off that we have rumbled him."

My eyes darted around the empty street. "You're probably right. I can't imagine 'my dog and I could smell it' is enough proof to have him arrested. So … we go back in, pretend we don't know it's him, and try and get some proper evidence?" I tried not to show how much the idea filled me with revulsion and fear. This was the man who had done that to Susanna …

"Very good. Meeko, you will have to stay outside."

Meeko whined, but acquiesced to standing guard by the door, and we re-entered the museum. Mr Corrium waved away our apologies, especially after we feigned interest in his displays and paid for a tour.

"It's really no bother," he said. "Animals and I never seem to get along, hm! But come now, let me show you — Ysgramor's soup spoon, a real treasure …"

As Mr Corrium showed us around an unimpressive, certainly fake collection of 'artifacts', Inigo and I surreptitiously tried to spot any signs that might connect the small man to Hjerim, or the murders, or necromancy. Unsurprisingly, however, he had no convenient proof proudly displayed on the shelves. A shame, but one couldn't have everything, I thought while examining an empty book.

Mr Corrium concluded his 'tour' with a little speech about the value of historical curiosity and an inquisitive mind. While he was taking a stupid little bow and looking very pleased with himself I nodded to Inigo, who pulled out the amulet. The little man immediately blanched. Aha! I thought.

"Oh, my! Where — I mean, what an interesting piece you have there!" His voice shook a little.

"Yes, isn't it?" I said sweetly, pushing away the emotions crowding behind my smile. "Would you happen to know what it is?"

"Yes, yes! Of course. It's, ah, it's called a wheelstone. It's, er, typically owned and carried by — by court wizards, yes!"

"Oh — then I suppose we'd better take it to the court wizard, hadn't we? He must have lost it …"

He turned, if it were possible, even paler. "Goodness, no! Wuunferth — he surely wouldn't have any interest in it. He, er, already has one — a different one to this — and, well, why would he want another? But I would be more than happy to take it off your hands! For, er, how about five hundred septims? You won't get a better offer elsewhere, it's really only of value to collectors …"

"I do not think so," Inigo said, through a grin with no humour in it.

"No? Well, how about — a thousand septims! Two thousand!" He was starting to sweat.

I stroked my chin, considering. "Mm … no. No, I think we'll keep it, thank you all the same." And, ignoring his protests, we stepped back outside.

"Interesting," Inigo said as Meeko bounded up to greet him.

"Very interesting. I wonder why he didn't want us talking to the court wizard?"

Naturally, after checking in with Tobias at the guardhouse we went straight to a small cottage on the grounds of the Palace of Kings, which Tobias told us was the traditional residence of Windhelm's court mage. The current court wizard, a tall old Nord named Wuunferth, gasped in shock even before we showed him the amulet — like me, he could sense its cold power.

"Yes, I knew about the murders, of course," he said, his eyes fixed on the amulet. "Now that I know there's a necromantic ritual involved, however, I think I should be able to predict the date and time of the next one. Wait here."

We sat in mounting tension as Wuunferth buried himself in a flurry of books and scrolls, muttering calculations under his breath. After an hour or so, by which time the tension had long transformed into boredom and Inigo had begun flicking apple pips for Meeko to catch, he finally emerged.

"Tomorrow night. It will be tomorrow night. Late; probably after midnight."

We thanked him, and hurried to find Tobias with the news. "You know," I said to Inigo, "I bet these murders would have been solved months ago if Nords didn't have such an unnatural fear of magic."

Tobias had hardly seemed surprised when we'd told him the murderer was Calixto Corrium, and reacted to the news that there was only a day and a half to prepare for the next attack with the same businesslike efficiency.

"Good. That's great to know. Thanks. I'll try and have him watched in the meantime, but I'm wary of having him followed too closely. We'd nae want him realising he's been found out, especially after your little visit, eh?"

"Can't you just — arrest him?"

"Nae, Kirilee. We dinnae have enough evidence. We need to catch him in the act. But — you said you can sense his magic, eh? And Meeko is certainly a skilled tracker …" He considered Meeko, who cocked his head and let his tongue loll. He then turned back to me and Inigo. "I hate to ask more of you, you've already done more than I could've hoped for. But you'd be very valuable to have on hand tomorrow night — we'd have a much better chance of catching him with that magic sense of yours, and Meeko's nose. And your eyes, too, of course," he said, nodding to Inigo. "It'll be dangerous, I ken that. But is there any chance …"

Naturally, we agreed. We knew this was important. A monster such as Calixto Corrium could not be allowed to roam free.

Tobias joined us at the inn again that evening. He watched me play with his eyes shining, insisted on buying me and Inigo drinks all night, and introduced us to his friends. They were a surprisingly cheery lot, especially for what I had come to expect of Windhelm, and we had an unexpectedly high-spirited evening. Tobias said they all learned how to switch off when they were not on duty. It was too difficult otherwise, he said. Many a fine guard had been lost to burnout.

"Better to burn the bad feelings away before then, eh?" said a friendly, round-faced blond man called Lenkar, raising a tumbler of brandy.

"Right you are, mate," Tobias said, clinking his bottle of ale against Lenkar's tumbler, then offering the bottle to me before taking a sip himself.

I enjoyed talking with Tobias. He was what I'd always imagined Nords would be: a rocky island in a stormy sea, battered by hardship but unyielding nonetheless; always finding a reason to laugh, and spitting in the face of trouble. I found myself letting my guard down with him and his friends, the tension of the last week unwinding with the aid of bad ale and good company.

Eventually even the hardy, ale-loving Nords were tired enough to call it a night. Tobias walked me down to my room.

"Honestly, Tobias, you would not believe this old mer's obsession with his stupid festival. It's still held weekly. It's just lucky that I'm often out of town on weekends, which is when it's usually on. Except when it's not. Nobody ever knows for sure."

He chuckled. "Aye, though I dinnae know what you're complaining about. Free sweets and drinks every week? I'd jump at an opportunity like that! And music, to boot!"

"Yes, well, it seems like fun, but I promise you it rather starts to wear thin after the first half-dozen times or so."

We were leaning against the wall, side by side. I smiled. I felt lighter than I had in weeks. Intending to thank Tobias for helping to distract me from my worries, I looked up at him, and then — he kissed me. Or tried to. I froze for a moment then turned my head away at the last moment, and his lips landed on my cheek.

"Oh Gods, I'm so sorry — please, I dinnae — I — I'm sorry —" He tripped over his words, his face red as a tomato.

I burst into tears.

His jaw dropped. He stared at me in bewilderment. "I really am sorry, Kirilee, I —"

"No, I-I-I'm sorry," I sobbed, hiccuping. Leaning against the wall of my room I sank to the floor. Tobias sat down next to me. Eventually my sobs turned to sniffles, and then silence. Tobias still didn't speak.

"There's a man. Back in Solitude," I haltingly said, after a minute or so of uncomfortable quiet. "And we had … something. Something special. And I've probably ruined it." I sniffed, and pulled my knees to my chest. "It's why I'm in Windhelm. I … ran away. I couldn't face him after what happened." Feeling tears welling again, I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to stem their flow.

Tobias pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to me. It was patterned with daisies, I noticed with faint surprise. "Dinnae worry, it's clean," he smiled. I took it, and wiped my face.

"I'm sure it's nae so bad as all that," he said bracingly. "I dinnae ken what you've done, but from the little I ken of you I'm sure it cannae have been anything so bad things cannae be fixed." His sympathetic expression shifted suddenly into a broad grin. "And if it is? Well, then, it's that poor fool's loss … and you can come find me, instead." He gave me a roguish wink, and I couldn't help but laugh, if rather weakly.

He stood up, and helped me to my feet. "Keep the handkerchief."

"Thanks," I said with a watery smile. "I'll probably need it."

Blinking hard, I managed to hold the tears at bay. I felt a little better. He smiled at me kindly, then when I had assured him I was fine and he could go, nodded and headed for the door.

At the doorway he stopped and turned. "If tomorrow night goes well I'm sure your young man will take you back," he grinned. "After all, what full-blooded man could turn down a woman who caught a murderer?" He gave me another wink, then pulled the door shut behind him.

I couldn't help hoping that he was right. Despite everything happening in Windhelm, and knowing how small my problems were in comparison, whenever I thought of Solitude and Felix my stomach turned to knots and I just wanted to cry. I was so frightened of what he'd say when I next saw him. Ever since I had left I'd been rehearsing speeches in my head — justifications, apologies, excuses — but it all felt hollow.

The worst of it was that I didn't know if I would have done things differently, had I the time over again.

Worries about Felix were far from the most pressing thing on my mind, the next day. Though we already had quite enough problems to be going on with, that morning we somehow managed to add another. While out shopping after breakfast the shopkeeper mentioned that according to rumour, the young Aventus Aretino was trying to perform the Black Sacrament, and summon the Dark Brotherhood! He chuckled to himself at this juicy tidbit of gossip as he wrapped a loaf of bread in paper, but Inigo and I traded concerned looks, and after leaving the shop asked Sofie the beggar-girl for directions to the Aretinos' house.

There was no answer to our knocking, but the door was unlocked, and we let ourselves in. The house looked abandoned. Dust and cobwebs filled every corner, and it had the musty smell of a space long disused. Nevertheless, we could hear a child's voice chanting from somewhere above us. It seemed there was at least some truth to the rumours.

"Aventus?" I called softly. "Aventus, are you there?"

A brief stumble, then the chanting resumed.

"What do we do now?" I said. Inigo jerked his head upwards.

We ascended the stairs and followed the voice to a room, empty of everything but a circle of candles, an old musty skeleton, and a dark-haired boy kneeling beside them with his eyes closed, near dead of exhaustion.

The boy's eyes snapped open at our approaching footsteps, and he leapt to his feet, crowing with glee.

"It worked! The Sacrament worked! I did the thing, and said the words over and over again for so long, but now you're here! Assassins from the Dark Brotherhood, to fulfil my contract!" He looked far too thin and unhealthy, his skin pale and pinched, his eyes over-bright.

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Aventus. You're mistaken. We're not assassins — but we do want to help."

His face fell, the brief flare of joy replaced with despair. "You're — you're not? But … I did everything right!" He turned desperately from one of us to the other. "Couldn't you just … do it anyway?"

"Come with me," Inigo said kindly. "Let us sit, and you can tell me what is the matter."

While Inigo and Aventus talked I looked around the house for something to feed the child. He looked half starved. I found nothing — it didn't appear as though anyone had lived here for months — though I did happen across a letter from the steward, offering his condolences to Aventus for the death of his mother. It went on to explain that because he had no living relatives he'd be sent to Honorhall Orphanage until his sixteenth birthday, six years hence. It was dated six months ago.

I started a fire and began to brew tea and toast the bread we'd just bought. From behind me I heard Aventus pouring his heart out to Inigo while scratching Meeko's ears, who had deposited his head in the boy's lap. He spoke of Grelod the Kind, who was not kind at all. She did … awful things, such awful things, to the children. She would beat them, and starve them, and work them far too hard, and any who complained would be beaten and worked harder. Sometimes, in the night, a child would disappear, and the others were forbidden to ever speak of them again.

My hands shook as I poured a steaming mug of tea and took it to Aventus, along with a huge chunk of toasted bread slathered with butter and snowberry jam.

"We'll help," I promised him. "We won't kill Grelod — that's not the right way — but we will help. We'll make sure she never hurts anyone ever again."

Aventus looked doubtful, but was soon distracted by the food in front of him. He messily devoured it while Inigo spoke gently about the dangers of summoning assassins, and it never being worth the price, one way or another.

And so we had another task to add to the list before we could head home. Inigo was raring to head to Riften right that minute — "After all, Kirilee, you have a Mark set there now!" — but …

"No." I shook my head. "We need to be in Windhelm tonight to stop Calixto. I'm not happy about it either, but we can't risk not making it back in time." I met his miserable eyes with my own. "If everything goes well we'll Recall to Riften tomorrow and try to … sort things out, somehow. We can't leave those children to suffer."

"Yes. Surely if we expose that awful woman's crimes she will be shut down."

"I hope so, but … Riften's so corrupt, and Laila is so blind to it … will anyone even care?"

"They must," Inigo said savagely. "They are children. Even Madame Laila must listen to that."

"Yes. We have to at least try. But first …"

"But first we have a murderer to catch."

It was over quickly. We tracked him through the city in the dead of night. I saw him draw a knife on an Altmer woman I knew only by sight; Meeko exploded into barking, he startled, and I held him with my flute while Tobias led his group of guards in to surround and arrest him.

Once captured, Calixto Corrium only sobbed, "Now we'll never be together! How could you be so cruel, I just wanted my poor dear sister back …"

Wearing a look of open disgust, Tobias fastened a pair of heavy manacles around the man's wrists. His expression shifted to a slightly forced grin as he turned to Inigo and I, and asked us to meet him in the morning to report to the steward — and the Jarl.

"I've a funny feeling that gratitude of the highest and most expensive order is like to be in our immediate future, my friends," he said. He winked at me. "Wear your nicest outfit."

"See you there," I said weakly.

I was very quiet as we walked back to the inn.

"Are you well?" Inigo said. "You should be dancing for joy! We have stopped Windhelm's killer! The people of the city can finally sleep easily once more."

I stopped. "I am. I'm glad. But I'm also exhausted. And …" I turned to Inigo and grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands, my eyes wide. "Inigo. We're meeting Ulfric Stormcloak tomorrow morning. What on Nirn am I going to wear?"