A/N: Travel times unhesitatingly fudged for plot convenience, as usual. Fort Ashen is my own invention, though there are some half-submerged forts in Cyrodiil's lake country. Also, does anyone remember Morrowind, when shields looked like force fields instead of glowing skin shaders?

Chapter 23

Laure puffed and panted as she scrambled to keep up with Tychicus Varen. He showed no signs of being out of breath. He's an atronach. Breathing could very well be optional. She congratulated herself on the clean objectivity of this thought, and then swore silently as they stepped across another set of scorched footprints in the rocky soil.

"Brother," she said.

"Yes, Sister Laure."

"She's not moving in a straight line, is she?"

"No," said Tychicus Varen. "She's less experienced in tracking such signatures than I am, so her route is somewhat less direct."

"But she's faster," said Laure.

"Yes," said Varen simply. Laure was already cherry-red with exertion, so it probably wasn't possible for her to blush further; she was mildly grateful for this. He must have noticed some change in her posture or expression, however; he glanced sideways with a small smile. "I wouldn't be able to keep up with her even if you were not here, Sister. My speed is handicapped in this form, and my other form would still be slower than hers. We are both atronachs. We're not the same."

"I suppose not," Laure said, and cursed the silent,treacherous gleam of hope that this inspired. They walked on for a while. The ground seemed to be sloping upward now, and there were more trees. She was too busy concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other to pay much mind to their surroundings now, and in any case it seemed unlikely she would see or sense anything before Varen did. Only his sudden hand on her arm stopped her from walking right into the point of a katana.

She took a quick step back, staring at the Redguard in the path. He wore clean leathers without any apparent markings, not a mode of dress she associated with bandits. He was tall, fit, and looked about thirty or so, and he had shaved his kinky hair very close to his coffee-colored skull. Eyes as dark as anthracite watched her with no apparent emotion. The hands that held the long katana did not waver.

"I am not certain what I've done to attract the attention of the Blades," said Tychicus Varen calmly. "What is it you require, honored Brother?"

"You'll have to come with me," he said. "We have some questions to ask you."

"My errand is not trivial," said Tychicus Varen.

"Then you'd better speak quickly," said the Emperor's Blade. He was missing the lower part of one earlobe, and there was a scar up that side of his temple. "You seem to have had some voluntary dealings with daedra, Brother Varen. This gives us cause for concern."

He knows his name, Laure recognized silently, and felt a small pang of fear for the first time. Which means Cloud Ruler Temple knows it.

"Sister Laure is not part of this," said Tychicus Varen. "She followed me in hopes of doing service to Arkay."

"And that's not what you're doing?" said the Blade.

"I would prefer to think so," said Varen. He looked steadily at the Redguard for a while. The other man looked back. Neither one blinked for some time.

"You seem to be taking on quite a bit for a simple priest," said the Redguard finally.

"I had reason to suspect your response might be disproportionate," said Tychicus Varen.

"That's not your decision to make," said the Blade. "Come on. It's a long way to Cloud Ruler temple and we're going to have to travel fast."

"I'm afraid we can't go with you," said Tychicus Varen. Laure edged closer to him. She doubted seriously that Varen would voluntarily do anything violent, which meant -

A bubble of slick, translucent purple snapped up in front of her just in time to deflect a ball of green magicka from the bushes off to Varen's left. The bubble shield covered her and Tychicus both, distorting their surroundings faintly. She still saw the second Redguard very clearly as he stood up from the foliage. One dark hand glowed green.

"So you've been to Vvardenfell," said the first Redguard. "It won't help you. You can't hold that indefinitely."

"I don't plan to," said Tychicus Varen. "Sister Laure?"

"Yes?" said Laure.

"I hope you will pardon the liberty," said Tychicus Varen, and scooped her up in both arms and ran. Laure ducked her head, but approaching branches scraped sparks from the top of the shield and glanced off. She felt another spell impact on its surface, but it seemed to have no affect.

"Can you really outrun two Blades?" she said.

"Not for long in this form," said Tychicus Varen's voice, very close to her ear. He was not breathing hard. Laure heard the footsteps behind them very clearly. "And I would rather that they not see my true one. I'm afraid we will have to find another solution."

"You said you can't teleport us there," she said, trying very hard not to think about the fact that she was pressed firmly against Tychicus Varen's broad chest.

"The risk is too great."

"But you're not going to kill those two," said Laure. The thought that he might not be able to do so never entered her mind.

"Not if I can avoid it," said Varen. "These are good men doing their duty." Hairs rose along Laure's spine as Varen let loose another magicka charge. "There are no dangerous creatures nearby. I suppose I'll have to risk it." He stopped suddenly, set Laure on her feet, and turned to face back the way they had come. The magicka rose and rose, and Laure took advantage of the extra charge to bring up her own shield. The blue light crackled and slid along her skin as Varen dropped the bubble from around them.

The two Redguards were Blades. Blades are not foolish, particularly those who survive in the wake of the Closing. They did not charge out of the bushes directly; rather, Laure heard the footsteps slow and come to a stop.

"I'll give you a chance to surrender," said the voice of the elder Redguard. "I really would rather not hurt you or the girl."

Girl? thought Laure. Well, really.

"I know," said Tychicus Varen quietly, and raised his arms. A green sphere took shape in front of him, then grew into a glowing wall, ten feet high and reaching into the ground at his feet; the edges spread out until Laure could not see them. Then he moved his hands as if to push it forward, and it shot out into the trees.

There were two distinct thuds.

"What was that?" said Laure as Varen's magicka charge faded. She let go her own shield cautiously.

"Paralysis, no more," said Varen. "It will last for some while, but we still need to move very quickly. Will you permit me to carry you again, Sister?"

Oh, yes. "If it's really necessary," said Laure, with as much dignity as she could muster. Varen picked her up, very gently this time, and began to run again.

Tracks-Too-Well came to a sudden stop in the middle of the path. Marcus Barnabas halted behind him, reaching for his sword hilt. He knew Lybiad was doing the same, but did not look that way; he was already straining toward his surroundings with every ounce of perception.

"This one knows where they are going," said Tracks-Too-Well. Marcus relaxed slightly, annoyed with this unnecessarily dramatic revelation.

"Where?" demanded Lybiad, apparently sharing this sensation with Marcus.

"We are climbing to the East and North now," said the Argonian. He scratched with an idle claw at a patch of dry scale on the back of his neck as he turned to face them. "Into the lake country. This is the way to Fort Ashen."

The two Blades exchanged a look. "What does that mean?" said Marcus patiently.

The tracker shrugged. "It is an evil place."

"So are a lot of the other old forts," said Lybiad. "A Dremora would look for evil places, wouldn't they?"

"Not a dark pile of stone beside the water," said the Argonian. "Surely not. But that is where they are going."

"So we'll have to go down a dark hole after them after all," said Marcus Barnabas. "I guess that's no surprise. Demons see better in the dark than anything except a Khajiit."

"I still don't like it," said Lybiad.

Marcus sighed. "Me neither. You want to tell Jauffre we turned back?"

"No," said Lybiad.

Sodrinye listened for a while to the sound of dry bones shattering. She had seen the exterior quite clearly. Ebel-Merodach and Menien Goneld would not meet with much difficulty. Presently she levered herself upright against the wall and began to make her way around the curve of the stone keep. She went hesitantly, feeling her way. She was comfortable in the shadow, but the brilliance just beyond it was disorienting, especially as it still felt very cold to a kynaz. Once or twice a small, hairy animal with a naked tail – rat, she dredged up the word – darted in front of her, but they did not stop and neither did she.

Eventually the long curve brought her out of the shadow completely and she had to make for the shade of an overhanging balcony. When she at last stumbled blindly into this refuge and turned to look out again, the view had changed. The ground sloped gradually away at her feet and became a great dark blur, and in her ears was the sound of liquid lapping at a shore. If she looked to her left she could see the trees still. They made an indistinct green wall to her poor eyes as they marched down to the water's edge. We came from the South, as Menien Goneld would call it. The water was hidden by the curve of the land.

Sodrinye slid down until she sat with her back against the wall, yielding to the eternal dragging fatigue. If she squinted she could just make out lighter spots here and there in front of her, perhaps other ruined bits of stone standing up out of the water. This place must have been built when the level was lower. She could see it if she tried, a much brighter place with armored men and mer standing vigilant on its walls.

She did not understand how the water could have risen so far, but then there were still a great many things about Nirn that she did not understand. I do not think I will have the opportunity. I cannot continue long without my debtsworn, and those who would kill him are coming nearer every instant. There was something else, some confluence of threat, but the images were so very tangled that she could not separate them. There was the white, strained face of the human girl called Laure, more distinct than Sodrinye would ever be able to see it at that distance. In her sleep she had also seen a kyn mage, a krynvelhat standing beside an empty cage and a lava pool, but she could not parse the connection. And there was Tychicus Varen, always Tychicus Varen. Something important hinged on him and she could not discover what it was.

A soft whisper overhead indicated Menien Goneld's boot on the stone of the balcony. "Is that you down there, Sodrinye?" he said.

"Yes," she said, trying to stave off sleep again.

"You should've stayed put. For a second I thought you were a zombie."

Sodrinye did not reply to this. She could hear the caitiff's booted feet approaching from her left.

"Looks like we won't run out of drinking water," said Goneld's voice. "Except I guess that's not any good to you demons."

"Certainly not," said Ebel-Merodach. Sodrinye did not turn to look, but rather felt the ground vibrate under her as he came closer. "It might very well be lethal. Is this how I will die, little krynvelhat?"

"No," said Sodrinye. "Though many have died in this water. I think you will bleed to death." It was a good guess, anyway. His face when she saw it had been pale, and there had been much blood.

"Then there will be battle?" said Ebel-Merodach.

"I cannot tell," said Sodrinye. She stared blindly out at the sun over the black water and listened to the sound of something breaking inside herself. "Even this I cannot promise you, my debtsworn."