"I have an idea."

Issana was leaning back against the bar beside Brynjolf, who was seated and sipping ale. He took a swig. "What sort of idea, lass?"

"When I was out collecting those debts, I spotted an alchemist's shop down by the canals. I listened in for a bit, and it seems like some of the ingredients sell for quite a bit of money."

"Certain ones do, yes," said Brynjolf. "Go on."

Issana flipped some coins onto the bar and poured herself a glass of wine. "Well, leaves and seeds and all that, they're small. We could carry off quite a bit in one trip."

"We could," Brynjolf agreed. "But we don't exactly have much use for alchemical ingredients down here. No one around here knows how to make potions."

Issana nodded. "But suppose a merchant happened to arrive in town, selling ingredients. We'd need to buy a few of the cheaper variety to have a wide enough selection, but I think-"

Brynjolf leaped up. "Lass, you're brilliant. We set someone up as a fake trader, arriving in town a week later with all the supplies. The alchemist will need to replenish his supplies; he'd have to buy from us."

"And since it's all already preserved," added Issana, "we can wait long enough to avoid suspicion. But you know what the best part is?"

"What's that?"

Issana smiled. "Nobody expects an alchemy shop to get hit. The jewelers, they've got their stores locked up tight. But an alchemist…"

Brynjolf looked at her with wonder in his eyes. "Lass, I knew I'd found something great when I saw you in the market. Come on, I've already got a team in mind." He hurried over to where Vex lounged with her feet up on a table. "Vex, our little thief has got a plan. I think you'll want in."

Issana quickly outlined the plan to her. Vex fiddled with a lockpick, twirling it between her fingers. "Could work," she said at last. "And I'm always up for a bit of burglary."

"We'll have Cynric pose as the merchant," said Brynjolf. "That man can talk his way through anything."

"Sounds good," Vex said, still spinning the lockpick.

"And Issana can go with you."

The lockpick stopped dead. Vex didn't look up. "I work alone."

Brynjolf sat down across from her. "It's an easy heist, and she'll learn a lot."

"Teach it to her yourself."

"Oh, come on, Vex. You're the best and you know it."

Issana folded her arms. "I want in."

Vex put the lockpick down slowly. "I don't babysit."

"No one's asking you to," said Issana. "I can handle myself."

Vex said nothing for a long while, until at last she tucked the lockpick into her belt and looked at Brynjolf. "All right. Consider it done."

Brynjolf clapped his hands together. "This is it, lasses. I think the tides of our luck might be ready to turn."

"Sure, sure, let's all celebrate," Vex muttered. "We'll go tonight. Take advantage of the good weather."

Issana nodded. "Works for me."

"Great," Vex grumbled. "Just what I've always wanted."

The night was damp and cold as Issana followed Vex through the empty streets. The alchemist's shop was near the western edge of the city, nestled below the city's ground level in the side of one of the canals. Vex led the way down one of the many wooden staircases that connected Riften's streets to the canal walkways below. At the bottom, Vex stepped into a shadow and pulled Issana in beside her. Issana stayed perfectly still.

When nothing happened for about a minute, Issana whispered, "What's going on?"

Vex grabbed her by the shoulders and fixed her with a narrow-eyed stare. "Let me make two things perfectly clear. One: I'm the best infiltrator this rathole of a Guild has got, so if you think you're here to replace me, you're dead wrong. And two, you follow my lead and do exactly as I say. No questions. No excuses."

Issana pulled back and brushed Vex's hands off her shoulders. She glared at the older woman. "I get it."

"Just-" Vex hissed, but she stopped herself. "Let's go." She turned around and stalked off along the walkway.

The alchemist's shop was only few minutes' walk ahead. Vex tugged a dark scarf up over the lower half of her face and Issana did the same. Outside the door, Vex pulled out a lockpick and some tools and knelt. "Keep watch."

Issana looked up at the streets but saw no one. The canal was deserted too. Behind her, she heard the lock click. Vex stood up and spread some oil into the door's hinges. "Well," she said, "let's go get rich." She held out a piece of paper.

Issana looked at it for a moment. "What's that?"

"Your list. The ingredients you need to find."

Issana looked down at the ground.

"What?" Vex demanded.

Issana muttered something under her breath.

"I can't hear you," Vex said, glancing around to make sure no one was around.

"I said I can't read, all right?" Issana snapped back.

Vex threw her arms up in exasperation. "This is just perfect!" she hissed. "How are you supposed to be any help at all if you can't even figure out what we need to take?"

"I'm sure I can figure out what stuff looks valuable, thank you very much." Issana untied the sack from her belt and stepped towards the door. "Shall we?"

Vex grunted something that Issana didn't catch before reaching for the handle. "Ready?"

Issana nodded. Vex pushed the door open silently and they crept inside. It was a small, single-level house with a shop set up in the front and a narrow doorway leading to a back room. Issana ignored the flowers and seeds and other assorted ingredients on the countertop; anything of real value would be behind the counter where someone with light fingers couldn't reach it when the shop was open.

It sure wouldn't stop her, though.

Issana slipped behind the counter as Vex went for a lockbox. Sure enough, there were drawers set into the back. Issana carefully opened the lowest one. Perfect. Inside were three clusters of neatly tied bags. She carefully untied one bag to see what was inside and was rewarded with some orange-glowing salts and gust of heat. She hastily retied it and stuffed the six bags that formed that cluster into her sack. The second and third clusters were similar, one with whitish-blue salts that felt cold and one with black salts that made her feel a bit dizzy. She dropped them all into her bag.

Minutes passed as she rooted through the drawers and shelves and grabbed anything that looked expensive. Vex was busy cleaning out a barrel when someone in the adjoining room coughed. Issana froze. So did Vex. Vex beckoned silently. Issana crept towards her and Vex reached for her sack, then pointed towards the doorway. Issana mimed herself going over to keep watch and Vex nodded. Issana passed her sack over and slunk to the doorway, peering in.

It was hard to tell in the dark, but the bit of light coming in through the doorway revealed an elderly couple asleep in bed. They showed no sign of stirring. Issana glanced back towards Vex and froze.

Vex had loosened one end of a potion shelf and was standing in the doorway, holding up the shelf with one hand while the other held the two sacks. Issana mouthed, "What?" and Vex shrugged.

The shelf dropped. Vex sprang out of the door and slammed it behind her. The potions hit the floor with a shatter of breaking glass. Issana leaped for the door and grabbed the handle but it wouldn't budge. Vex had jammed it. From the next room, she heard confused noises as the alchemists awoke. Issana looked around wildly for an escape.

Window.

Near the ceiling was a wooden-shuttered window, just above her head. She leaped for it and grabbed the frame but the rotting wood gave way in her hands. She heard someone shout behind her as she jumped a second time, fingers latching onto the stone windowsill, and heaved herself up. She shoved herself through the old wood of the shutters. Someone shouted behind her but she didn't pay them any heed; she pulled herself the last few inches and toppled out of the shop.

"Guards! Guards" The panicked shrieking of the alchemists was reverberating off the stone walls outside. Issana heard mail and heavy footsteps racing along the street above, getting closer and closer, and all the while the alchemists were screaming for help like someone was about to murder them. She heard the sound of swords being drawn on the street above her head, and without stopping to think, she dove headfirst into the canal.