My breathing was ragged as I hastily picked the lock on the giant stone tomb. I had no idea what lied behind the door, but I could only imagine that it was the rotting corpse of the matron of the night. I feared less of what I may see and more of what Cicero would do if he found out. What I was doing was surely sacrilegious, but I had no choice. Although Cicero was the one to give me the contract and take me in, this was still Astrid's sanctuary. And I had a strong feeling see didn't see the importance of a dead, old women quite the way that Cicero did.

My breath hitched. Her skin was a deep, oily brown. Boney fingers crossed over themselves as she covered her barely clothed chest. Dry hairs spilled out of her skull in twine-like cords. Cracked and decayed lips curled back, showing an unholy row of yellowing, gapped teeth. Her head hung limply to the right and her eyes were sealed shut. She was terrifying. Yet you could tell she had been very beautiful in life and symbolically so in death.

I held my breath as I climbed in the coffin with her. With no choice but to face her, I pressed my back into the stone door so hard I feared I may fall back into the humming man who had entered the room.

Cicero was here.

"Are we alone? Yes... yes, alone. Sweet solitude. No one will hear is, disturb us. Everything is going according to plan." I listened for another voice to answer him, but there was only silence. "The others... I've spoken to them. And they're coming around, I know it. The wizard, Festus Krex, perhaps even the Argonian and the un-child." If it weren't for fear, I just may have giggled at his nickname for Babette. "What about you? Have you... have you spoken to anyone?" Silence. "No... no of course not. I do the talking, the stalking, the seeing, and the saying! And what do you do? Nothing!" Cicero took a breath, composing himself. "Not... not that I'm angry. No, never! Cicero understands. Heh, Cicero always understands... and obeys. You will talk when you're ready, won't you? Won't you?"

"Poor Cicero. Dear Cicero," whispered a voice. I gasped, then covered my lips. Who was here? I didn't recognize the voice. A female, soft and snake-like. Hissing at Cicero. Or... hissing at me... "Such a humble servant. But he will never hear my voice. For he is not the Listener." The Listener?

"Oh, but how can I defend you? How can I exert your will if you will not speak to anyone?!"

"Oh, but I will speak," sung the voice, "I will speak to you, for you are the one. Yes, you. You who shares my iron tomb, who warms my ancient bones. I give you this task- journey to Volunruud, speak with Amaund Montierre."

"Poor Cicero has failed you! Poor Cicero is sorry, sweet mother! I've tried so very hard, but I just cannot find the Listener!" Cicero banged his fists on the coffin doors, shifting the stone behind me.

"Tell Cicero the time has come. Tell him the words he's been waiting for all these years. Darkness Rises When Silence Dies." And with those last words, the doors opened to a new challenge. My back fell through the stony tomb and into the chest of the jester.

Cicero's amber eyes glared confused, angry daggers at me. With one swift movement, he grabbed me by the collar, shoved me into the wall and swiped one of the ebony daggers at my side, pressing it to my neck. I shrieked at the pain of almost having my throat slit. If I took even a slightly too large breath, my jugular would be split it two.

"What? What treachery! Defiler! Debaser and defiler! You have violated the sanctity of the Night Mother's coffin! Explain yourself!" I took shallow, ragged breaths. "Speak, worm!"

"The Night Mother! She spoke to me!" I sputtered. His grip loosened.

"She... she spoke to you?" He looked at me for a moment before shoving me against the wall with twice his original force. The dagger cut further into my skin, choking me. "More treachery! More trickery and deceit! You lie! The Night Mother speaks only to the listener. And there is. No. LISTENER!"

"Darkness rises when silence dies!" I whispered in a panic. Cicero stopped dead in his bell-toed boots.

"She... she said that? She said those words... to you? Darkness rises when... when silence dies." A smile crept across his tanned cheeks. He pulled away but quickly gripped my waist to keep me from collapsing. "Those are the words. The Binding Words. Written in the Keeping Tomes. The signal so I would know. Mother's only way of talking to sweet Cicero. Then, it's true! Our Lady is back! She has chosen a Listener! She has chosen you!" He laughed joyously. "All hail the Dragonborn's apprentice! All hail the Listener!"

Cicero clutched my shoulders tightly, as if he was checking for authenticity. He ran his callused fingers down my arms, up my torso, across my cheekbones, and through my hair. Using the black stands as a leverage device, he pulled my mouth to his, giggling all the while.