"No—" Faendal reeled back in shock. "H—How?" he managed to choke out.
"Karliah had set an ambush. Shot her before she could take more than a few steps into the sanctuary. Died before I could heal her."
"And—and Karliah?"
"Disappeared before I could kill her," Mercer said. "Took an invisibility potion and ran, the coward."
Faendal felt a headache coming on. Joi. Dead. It couldn't be true. But the look in Mercer's eyes told him it was . . .
Joi really was dead.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad to see she had such loyal friends," Mercer said tenderly, but the words sounded strange coming from his mouth. False even. "She'll be waiting for us in Sovengarde."
Faendal didn't bother to mention that Bosmer—or Dunmer for that matter—didn't believe in Sovengarde, but Joi deserved the best, even in the afterlife; instead, he nodded wordlessly.
Mercer clapped him on the shoulder and headed off toward Rifton. Faendal watched him go, an odd sense of loss eating at his chest.
Faendal stood there, staring at the doorway where he had last seen Joi. With her gone, would he just head back to the mill in Riverwood? It would be almost impossible to pick up the pieces of his old life. What would he do?
What could he do?
A stone door slid open behind him; he had an arrow nocked and ready to fly before he recognized the figure being supported—almost dragged—by the other Dunmer, a crimson stain rapidly growing on her abdomen. His heart skipped a beat.
Joi.