The door to the Ragged Flagon flickered in the light of Karliah's lantern. "Do as I told you," Karliah said quietly. "You're the best shot I've got at this. Don't," she added, "mess this up."

Issana swallowed hard. Her hand seemed to have already found the handle on its own. She didn't turn it.

"What's the matter with you, girl?" said Karliah. "Open the damn door."

Issana didn't move.

"What in Oblivion is wrong with you?"

Issana was frozen, mind blank, and she had no idea why. She saw her hand trembling but it didn't register.

"Oh," Karliah said. "Mercer."

Issana let go of the handle and her hand swung limply to her side. "I can't."

Karliah snorted. "By Nocturnal, girl, grow up. This isn't-"

Issana's hands shot out and shoved Karliah in the chest. "Yeah? Maybe next time you should be the one lying there helpless, watching as someone kills you. Maybe then you'll have an idea what this is like, you bitch. Seeing it in your nightmares, over and over again; once you deal with that you can lecture me."

"Oh, please," said Karliah. "You don't know anything about me. But if you want to just sit here sniveling and let Mercer win, fine. I should have know better than to think you could-"

Issana felt the weeks of frustration suddenly snap inside her. Her fist collided with Karliah's jaw and sent the dark elf reeling. Issana spun, grabbed the door handle with white-knuckled anger, and threw it open.

The people at the tables looked up sharply at the sound. Issana froze as they all stared at her. Mercer was nowhere to be seen.

Dirge was leaning on the wall about halfway around the water. He glanced lazily over at her, then looked back down at the ground.

His gaze shot up again, eyes wide. "But you..." He stared at her. "Brynjolf! It's..." His voice died away.

Brynjolf was leaning over a table, peering across the pool, but he didn't seem to believe what he was seeing. He shoved himself away from the table and walked cautiously around the walkway towards them. "By the gods..." he whispered. "But how? Mercer-"

Issana flinched involuntarily.

"-Mercer said that Karliah had..." Brynjolf stopped midstride, about five feet from her, and stared over her shoulder at Karliah.

His hand dropped to the knife at his belt. "Issana... What's going on? Why is she here?"

Issana took a deep breath. "Karliah saved my life. After Mercer tried to kill me."

Brynjolf's jaw hung half-open. "What?"

"Mercer used me as bait. Then he tried to finish me off."

Brynjolf's expression became a mask of confusion as he struggled to understand. "But - but - why? That makes no sense! Why-"

"I can answer that," said Karliah. She stepped forward and reached into her belt. Brynjolf backed away but Karliah held out a small, leather-bound book.

"That's... that's Gallus' journal," said Brynjolf.

"Yes, it is. Take it."

Brynjolf reached out his hand and hesitated. He glanced at Issana, then took the book.

"The last entries are the ones you need to see," said Karliah.

Brynjolf opened the journal and flipped to the end. His eyes flicked back and forth across the pages. "No..." he breathed. "It can't be. This can't be true." He snapped the book closed. "I've known Mercer too long."

"He tried to kill me, Brynjolf," said Issana.

"Brynjolf, you knew me," said Karliah. "You knew..." There was a note of pleading in her voice. "You knew what Gallus was to me. You know I would have never-"

Brynjolf clenched the book tightly. "I know."

Delvin had appeared behind Brynjolf and leaned around him. "What's in that book, Brynjolf? What did it say?"

Brynjolf turned and slapped the book against Delvin's chest. "Mercer killed Gallus."

"What?"

"Read it. You know Gallus' writing as well as I do. Mercer's been stealing from the vault. Gallus was getting close to exposing him."

"Bastard!" Delvin threw the journal onto the floor. "I knew it!"

Dirge thumped his fist against his palm. "Should we go have a little chat?"

Delvin and Brynjolf drew their blades. "Aye," said Brynjolf. "Let's see what he has to say for himself."

"Be careful," said Karliah. "I'm the only one who's ever faced Mercer before, and that was ten years ago. He's more dangerous than ever."

"We'll handle him," said Dirge, cracking his knuckles.

"Come on, Issana," Brynjolf said. "He won't be able to talk his way out if you're there to tell the truth."

Issana swallowed hard and didn't move.

Brynjolf frowned. "Everything all right, lass?"

A brief image of Mercer standing over her flashed through her mind.

"We'll be with you, lass," Brynjolf said. "He won't even get close." He turned and led the way. Karliah grabbed Issana by the arm and pulled her with them.

Vex nearly collided with them as she exited the passage to the cistern. "What's going on? Mercer's packing bags and - daedra!" Vex stared at Issana. "What in-"

"Bastard's running for it!" snarled Brynjolf. He sprinted down the hallway with Delvin, Dirge and Karliah right behind. The door to the cistern flew open and they piled into the chamber.

Mercer was nowhere in sight. His desk was in disarray and his personal effects were strewn across the floor, but there was no sign of him. "Damn it," hissed Brynjolf. He threw his dagger at the floor. "Damn it!"

"Brynjolf, what in Oblivion is going on?" Vex pushed her way towards him.

"Get everyone in here," snapped Brynjolf. "There's something you all need to know."