~ Chapter Eighteen ~

The Library of Eyes

It didn't take long to find the trap door.

"Don't worry, Luz," Luz said to herself, staring down the ladder into the dark shaft. "It's not like they haven't all implied dangerous things live down here. It's fine. Just the dark, creepy basement of a magical college. Completely normal stuff."

Descending the ladder was easy.

Turning around at the bottom, with her magelight barely driving the shadows back, was much harder. It didn't help that merely going to the end of the hallway - more like a tunnel, only a few inches taller than she was - led Luz to a crossroad of passages, and she cursed quietly.

She held her staff out ahead of her, finding the warped wood at the top that seemed most like an owl's face. "Don't suppose you have any brilliant ideas?"

The staff remained silent, and Luz sighed. "Guess it's out of your realm of expertise, huh?"

"Who are you talking to?"

Luz screamed, whipping around to each of the other tunnels, looking for the source of the voice. "Whoa, hey! Who's that?"

The deep, almost bored voice came again, seeming slightly annoyed. "My, you're a jumpy one. Stop dancing about. Turn to your left. Other left - dear me, you're a bit dim, hm?"

Luz came to a halt, staring into the dark passageway.

"Look down, child."

She did and cocked her head at a black cat that sat primly in the tunnel-way. He was thin, gangly in a way cats weren't, and had a brilliantly scarlet collar with purple embroidery. His eyes were a deep, sickly yellow, like sap, the slits narrowing as she held up her magelight to him.

"Ah, yes. There you are." The cat bowed, flourishing a paw almost like a bow. "Isl'lahk, at your service. You must be Miss Lucaeda. Miss Amity does so carry on about you."

Luz's mouth fell open. "Okay… I've seen a lot of stuff recently… but you're a talking cat!"

"An Alfiq, actually," Isl'lahk sniffed, the disdain unhidden. "But if you don't need my help…"

"No, wait! I'm sorry." Luz knelt down in the damp passageway and took out a piece of hard cheese from her bag. "I didn't mean to offend. I… I'm not all that well-traveled."

"I had no idea," Isl'lahk said, sarcasm dripping from every word. "I am Khajit, if that helps you. Servant to Lady Dolores Hogarth, and temporary assistant to Miss Amity, at the Lady's behest.

"Am I to assume you are here for Miss Amity?" He looked at the cheese and then back to Luz. "Please tell me that's not for me."

"What?" Luz took a nibble. "I like cheese. You don't?"

Isl'lahk looked horrified. "Ugh. Whiskers to Tail, no. The Mistress enjoys it though. You'll get along splendidly. Come along. She said you'd be arriving soon. Stay close."

Luz followed the cat into the passageway, and after several winding turns, they entered a large room, lined with candles.

A small unmade bed was crammed in an alcove, lit only by a lantern on the desk next to it, piled with books and scrolls, broken quills scattered on the floor.

In the center of the room, lit by a cold light filtering in from a half-frozen grate above, was a large circle, ornate inlay defining sigils that Luz had become very familiar with over the last week.

In front of the circle were Amity and a woman - tall, with a silvery updo hair that seemed to contain several torchbugs, dressed in a black ballgown with actual fishbones embellishing it - who didn't bother to turn around as Luz and Isl'lahk entered.

"Ah, the wee lamb has joined us," the woman said, holding up a wicked-looking dagger, its blade a black metal, run with golden veins, curving like a snake to a tip glistening with some kind of pulsing red-amber goo. "Thank you, my pet."

Isl'lahk trotted over to the woman, leaping up onto her shoulders to nestle under the extravagantly wide collar. "Of course, marm."

"Luz?" Amity spun, a mixture of pain, confusion, and anger on her face. "What are you doing here?"

"Now, Amity," Luz said, holding up her hands defensively. "Look. The yellow-robed man told me to come down here to find the Library of Eyes. I have no idea what that means, but he implied that you might know and that 'we must rise to meet our fate.' I think we need to get to the bottom of this."

The woman leaned down to whisper in her ear, yet her voice carried in the enclosed space. "My, you weren't wrong. She's a looker, eh?"

Amity's face turned red.

"Luz," Amity growled, striding over to her. "I… I'm taking care of it. That's why I'm down here."

"Looks like you were down here before now though," Luz said, gesturing to the bed and the desk. "Is this your secret lab? What sort of magic do you- no. No, wait, Luz. Focus."

She took Amity's shoulders. "Amity. I know you think you can handle this on your own. I have no doubts that you are capable. But, this is all getting well out of hand, and after what happened under Saarthal - and when you got charmed against Willow - I think we need to sit down and have a talk. We're both in this-"

"What do you mean charmed?"

Luz snapped her mouth shut. "Oh… right…" She tried to manage a grin. "So, when you attacked Willow, I don't think it was your fault that it got out of hand. I think Lilianthe charmed you or something. What was that spell you described to me?"

"Is that why you were asking me about illusions?" Amity's voice reached an octave higher as her face got redder. "Do you think I am honestly so weak-willed as to become Incited without noticing?"

"Well," Luz said, shrugging. "You did say it was difficult to detect…" she trailed off. "And then that Jyrik fellow? I feel like something happened there that you didn't want to tell me about - and I respect your decision to keep it to yourself, but I really think that there's a lot going on here that neither of us is really equipped to deal with. But, maybe together-"

"There is no 'together', Luz," Amity snapped. "You aren't strong enough to manage this. You… you can't help!"

"Yes, I can."

"No, you can't." Amity gestured to the woman. "I have been training my whole life to master every form of magic. I summoned this Madwoman from the Shivering Isles itself to teach me about Flesh Atromancy."

Said woman wiggled her fingers at Luz, who returned the wave on reflex.

Amity continued, "I could summon clannfear and withering hungers when I was twelve. I can hold an inferno in the palm of my hand.

"You can barely shield yourself from a magical attack, and you hurl yourself into danger anyway. You are reckless, headstrong, and stupidly brave. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a Nord. And if you aren't more careful, you'll find out soon if you're headed to Sovengarde or not.

"This isn't a place and time for your simple magical tricks, Luz!"

Luz felt the bottom go out of her stomach. For a moment she could only feel a numb guilt there, crawling slowly up to her throat. She could feel a knot there and a flush in her cheeks.

Remember, Little Light. When you are afraid, step forward.

Her father's words rang back to her. They were vague, barely able to recall what he sounded like. But he had never steered her wrong before.

Her eyes burned, but she took a breath, set her jaw, and took a step forward. "I… I know I'm not a real mage. I know I might never be. But this involves me too. Whatever is going on, I need to help fix it."

"Oh, Amity?"

The woman tapped a cane on the floor. "Lecture's not over, love. And while this all seems very interesting, you didn't summon me to listen to a lover's squabble."

Luz felt her cheeks burn more, but Amity's blush crept down, past her jawline, and up to her ear tips.

"We aren't-" Amity started but the woman strode over and rapped her cane on Amity's head.

"Nonsense." She smiled at Luz, and Luz got a little lost counting the number of teeth she had. There seemed to be more than normal. "Dolores Hogarth, my dear. Darling Mittens would rather we not be introduced, but as they say in Mania, 'We're all mad here.'"

Luz merely nodded. "I… suppose they would. But I don't see-"

"Are you not using your eyes, then?" Dolores leaned in, her cane grinding into the cold cobbles stones. "Could I have them? Beautiful. How they catch the light, turning to burned honey. See Isl'lahk?" The cane's head - a glossy, pearlescent gemstone - came up under Luz's chin, angling her head back. "And the fear… such a demonstration of Flesh. Wondrous."

"Ah…"

"Lady Hogarth," Amity said, her voice gentle but her tone firm. "Luz shouldn't have come. And will now leave." She looked at Luz, pointedly.

"Gullet-gobbles, Mittens." Dolores reared back, and Luz was startled by how tall she actually seemed to be - Ancarno would only come to her shoulder, and she was certainly no Mer. "Your little friend needs your help. And I am interested in this Library of Eyes the Psijics told her of. Heard about it. Read about it. Knew about it. But they say it is hidden to eyes 'clouded by Oblivion.' I suppose that means me.

"It was part of our exchange, wasn't it? I teach you, you find me something no mortal eyes have seen before? It was a bit steep, I know. This world is dreadfully dull. But here we are."

"I.." Amity started but the cane rapped on her head again. "Ow!"

"No more talk." Dolores held out the dagger, the ruddy-amber qoop still on the end of the blade. "Deposit this void essence in your atronach and let it rest for a spell. Then we shall be off. Oh, how exciting, isn't it Isl'lahk. Adventuring again?"

"Yes, marm," the cat purred, sounding painfully bored. "I guess it is."

As Dolores strode over to the desk, her black silk-and-fishbone dress whisper-clacking on the stones as she went, Amity glared at Luz, but didn't say anything.

She stormed off, toward a covered table Luz had missed before. Curiosity got the better of her, and she followed.

"So, Luz said, rocking on her heels a few paces away, Amity gathering some supplies from a cupboard - a few sharp knives, a few bottles, a spool of thick leather 'thread' and a hefty looking needle. "What are you working on?"

"I don't think your delicate Imperial constitution would tolerate it," Amity said.

"If it's magic, I'm interested."

"I'll bet." Amity pulled the sheet from the covered table, and Luz's eyes boggled.

There was a man or at least something that looked man-like. It was easily seven-foot, with hefty metal bands around the neck, wrists, and ankles, and a simple leather cloth about its waist. But it had no eyes or mouth - save for the nose, the whole thing was a patchwork of shiny burn-scarred skin. Almost every inch was etched with sigils that she recognized, but without being able to compare them to her book, she couldn't read them.

"Is this… necromancy?"

"No." Amity gritted her teeth as a knife tumbled out of her arms to clatter on the floor. "Azura's tits!"

"Hey," Luz said, picking up the knife and holding it out to Amity. "You seem a bit stressed-"

"How would you feel if I… I don't know," Amity blustered, snatching the knife back and dumping her armful off onto the table. "If I showed up at your inn and… ordered food that you… that wasn't acceptable?"

"That's not a problem. Mami can cook anything," Luz said. "But I feel like that's not what you're trying to say."

Amity leaned on the table, and Luz could see her shaking. "I… I just need to finish this… and then I can go home."

Luz glanced over Amity - shallow breaths, a wild gaze that never settled anywhere for more than a few seconds - and aimed to reach out for her, then remembered what her mother always had done for her, and paused.

"Amity?"

"What?"

"Can I touch you?"

"What?" Amity focused in on Luz, the question snapped out but puzzled.

"Is that okay?" Luz shrugged, trying to not make too much eye contact. "It's just… I know how you're feeling. And I don't always want to be touched when I get that way. So my Mami would always ask, 'Do you want to talk, or do you want a hug?'

"I always had to choose one. But you don't really seem like a hugger, but I thought I'd ask."

Amity's face twisted - angry, sad, and confused. "Why would you…?"

"Because you're my friend," Luz said. "At least, I think so."

"How are we friends?" Amity's voice was bordering on cracking and she kept shooting looks towards the corner where Dolores sat, reading a book. "I've been nothing but mean to you."

"Well," Luz said, putting her hands behind her back for something to do with them. "People are mean for a lot of reasons. But you're not mean to everyone. And I think you're just under a lot of pressure to please people. It's not like I haven't seen that before.

"I just wanted to let you know, I don't hold it against you. Life's too short for that. Besides, we bonded over the Champion's stories. I figured that was something."

Amity looked away.

Luz glanced over the body on the table. "You know, I never thought I'd see one up close."

"One what?" Amity choked out, clearly still trying to get a hold of herself.

"A Flesh Atronach."

She didn't look at Amity. Instead, she started to order the tools Amity had set out, giving her time to sort herself out.

"I remember reading about them in Memoirs of a Madman. Morgan had to consult with a woman. Relmina or something, about remaking the Gatekeeper. It's not necromancy, is it? It's different.

"I mean, Humphrey was less of a mage than me. He thought the sigils were the names of all the souls trapped in them, but they're just elemental bindings, right? It's not a mortal soul, but a daedra. Like, necromancy for daedra, because they just fall back into Oblivion or something?"

Amity sniffed. "How did you know that?"

"I mean," Luz shrugged. "It was a good guess. The Champion's books talked about Daedra a lot. How they worked and stuff. Eda hated it when I would talk about it.

"'Everything's wrong,' she'd say. Told me all the 'real' magic behind it. Not something I think I really understand still, just understand what it isn't, more like?"

She held up a jar with the void essence in it, still on the knife. "I don't know what you need to do here, but if you let me, I can assist. And then we can be off.

"And the sooner we're off, the sooner we can untangle our lives and you can go home and forget all about the not-a-mage that's made your life so difficult lately."

Amity shook her head, muttering something, but then helped Luz finish arranging the tools and then pointed to a bottle of yellowy liquid on the shelf. "Get me that bottle."

After several minutes - which involved Luz trying to not ask too many questions - Amity stitched up the chest cavity and Luz handed her a rag.

Wiping off her hands, Amity looked sidelong at Luz.

"What?" Luz asked. "Do I have gunk on my face or something?"

"No," Amity said, even as she absently used the rag to clean Luz's hands of the preservative oil she had used on the golem. "It's just… this isn't magic people talk about. Consorting with Daedra, Flesh Atromancy… conjuration in general.

"It was kind of maligned after the Crisis, and never really made a recovery as a field of study. People always think you're trying to summon Mehrunes Dagon again, or some rot." She paused. "I just… am surprised that a devotee of Kyne from the heartlands of Cyrodiil is tolerant enough to help me with… a respectably disgusting project."

"I've always been a bit weird," Luz said. "Not that this is weird," she added, hastily after Amity gave her a look. "It's just that, this sort of thing never bothered me. Mami and I would take walks in the woods and use old animal bones and things to make decorations. The local priest of Arkay didn't care for it, but I helped him prepare the dead sometimes, so he didn't complain too much."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Luz snorted. "What, you think that a barmaid-turned-mage didn't get her hands on some corpses at some point?"

"I'll admit," Amity said, giving Luz a small smile. "That's not a common life path."

"Yes, all very nice," Dolores said, jarring both young women back to the present. "If you're quite finished playing handsy above the table, can we be off?"

With Luz following behind Amity, and Dolores and Isl'lahk bringing up the rear, Amity led them deeper into the Midden.

"I've not really been this far," she said, her voice echoing in the still passages. "But I did find a door with no handle and many 'eyes' - knots - in the wood. It's as good a place to start as any."

"A door with no key is merely a wall," Dolores said, sing-song, her cane clicking on the stone.

Luz frowned. "How tall are you, Lady Hogarth?"

"Tall enough dear."

"I just… I could have sworn you'd have to bend double to fit in this narrow tunnel, but-" She paused and stood straight. "You're my height now."

Dolores smiled, exposing far too many teeth again. "Exactly. Tall enough."

"Luz," Amity said, urging them forward again. "Don't question it, please? I don't bother your mentor."

"I only have one," Luz said. "And you've never met her."

"I know of the Lady of Owls." Amity paused at a crossroads. "Left or… straight?"

"Oh, you'll never go straight, dear Mittens," Dolores said. "Left it is. Always a good choice, left. I've not gone to the right in fifty years and my life has never been more interesting."

"So," Luz said, trotting up to whisper to Amity. "Mittens?"

Amity blushed furiously. "It… was a stupid pet name from my father. Don't call me it."

"But she can?"

"She's a powerful conjuror from the Shivering Isles and a personal consort to Lord Sheogorath. I let her call me whatever she wants."

"That's not nice." Luz pulled back, and too late Amity remembered who she was talking to.

"Luz, don't-"

"Lady Hogarth?"

Dolores raised an eyebrow at Luz. "Yes, sweet entrail?"

"Why do you call Amity, 'Mittens'?"

"Well, dearest soon-to-be desiccated corpse," Dolores said, planting her cane. "She's always been Mittens. She doesn't remember it, but her father summoned me to learn the same things. I've known her since she was a babe in the arms of a maid.

"Always had cold hands. So the maid made her some mittens if I recall. Darling little things. Shaped like cats." She shook her head. "Of course, when our beloved Mitten's had weened from her wetnurse, it was into the street with dear 'mama-mittens'. Odalia didn't care for the attachment she had with her littlest Blight-upon-the-world."

Luz took a step back as Dolores leaned in, neck stretching further than it should. "O-oh… that's… a cute story."

"No," Dolores said. "It isn't. I suppose if I'd stopped sooner, it would have been. But it gets worse."

"You don't… I-"

"But you asked, child." Dolores caught Luz with her cane, hooking it around the back of her neck. "Mama-mittens couldn't stand being separated from her 'Mittens.' Wailed in the gutter for three days before the guards took her away. Driven mad, they said. Broken heart, broken mind. A few days in a cell would clear her head for sure." Dolores' smile crumbled into a sour, dark look that made Luz shiver. "Didn't. She was released several days later and hurled herself into the sea from the pinnacle rocks. Wasteful." The smile bloomed again. "She was such a good knitter."

She strode by Luz and Amity. "Come along! Shouldn't tarry with fate, lambs."

Luz started waking again, Amity keeping pace.

"I'm sorry, Amity," Luz said. "I… I should have left it alone."

"Don't," Amity said, giving Luz's hand a squeeze. "She's a liar."

"What?"

"Father called me Mittens." Amity let go of Luz's hand and tucked her hair behind her ears, fiddling with her necklace. "Matilda did make me mittens. And she did… go mad. But Father made sure she was taken care of. And before she wandered off the cliffs, she had taught him to knit. He sends me a pair of mittens every year.

"Dolores is a Countess of Dementia. She's more balanced than other Madfolk of the Isles, but she still enjoys torturing the minds of people. Manipulation, lies, half-truths. I've had to learn to discount her stories or check them against facts. Most of the time I listen, cower, and then move on. Let it go."

"That's not nice."

"She's a Madwoman, Luz," Amity said, laughing. "A Countess of Flesh, Chief Mindbreaker of Sheogorath. She's not a nice person. If she is a person. I have doubts."

"So why learn from her?"

"Because Father did. And his understanding of Atromancy has grown his own knowledge of the magical craft. All magic comes, to an extent, from Oblivion. If you don't understand it fully, you never can know it.

"He used to say, 'You have to drown in the Waters to understand them.' He'd include little phrases like that in his letters." She sighed. "Not anymore though. He mostly just signs them now. Mother writes them."

"Gods," Luz muttered. "And I thought my life was hard."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Luz shrugged. "I worked hard and late for years. I always dreamed of having some great romance or leaving home to go on an adventure. And I don't regret any of the choices I've made so far." She trailed off, but Amity nodded for her to go on. "That just sounds so… oppressive. Did you actually want to become a mage like your father? It doesn't sound like you had a lot of friends, and now he doesn't even write to you while you're putting up with a literal sadist?"

"To his credit," Amity said. "He… doesn't know."

"What?"

"I don't think he does. I asked for his old spell notes. He loved sharing them with me. But there were some he never let me see. His list of Names for one - the sigils to call a specific Daedra. Those were contracts that he made. It's rude to both mage and Daedra to steal them.

"And yes, he's a little scattered at times, but he was meticulous with the things he thought too dangerous for me. But my last letter contained several pages I had requested for my thesis on Pure States, and folded in the middle were the runic marks for Dolores.

"I debated for a while to use them. But, in the end, I couldn't figure out Flesh Elements on my own. Figured I could make my own deals with her and just… I don't know."

"Oh," Luz said. "Well, never mind then. He sounds like a great mage-dad. You made the terrible mistakes."

Amity scowled but caught Luz's grin and softened. "Ah. A joke."

"Sorry. Still trying to suss you out, Blightward."

"Ah." They traveled in silence for a little longer, Dolores' cane the only sound. Eventually, Amity nudged Luz. "I…hm."

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry. For my unkindness. You're a mage. Being a magical scholar is just as important as flinging fireballs. It's just…"

"I can't cast normally."

"No. Well, yes, but…" Amity growled in frustration. "You just… you are so brazen! Tenacious, and foolish too. I just… don't want people to get hurt because of me. When Jyrik threw you... there was nothing I could do to stop it. What good is all my power, craft, and knowledge, if I can't even use it to help people."

"I can make my own choices." Luz shouldered her back. "And we're friends. I'd have done the same for Willow, or Gus."

"Risk your life?"

"Of course." Luz looked at Amity, confused. "We talked about this, Amity."

Amity looked like she was going to say something but Dolores knocking on a heavy, dark wood door made them both flinch.

"Hm," Dolores said. "Dead end. But it certainly sounds like wood." She turned to Amity. "Come along, lambs. I need your eyes."

"Not our actual eyes, right?" Luz asked. "Just metaphorically?"

"No," Dolores said. "I need you to use your eyes to tell me what this stonework really is. Mittens, I thought you said she was smart?"

"She's very smart," Amity said, giving Luz a smile. "For a barmaid-embalmer become mage."

"Oh," Dolores said, rustling her beehive hair, sending torchbugs scattering about. "Well, yes, that would do it, I suppose."

Amity cast her magelights around the door and waved Luz over. "Okay, puzzler extraordinaire. How do we get into a Library of Eyes, with no handles to the door?"

"The real question," Luz said, looking over the dark wood planks. "Is what is the puzzle?"

The door was round, with a shaped metal border that fit perfectly against the stones, with rivets. Each plank was a different width, but each went from floor to ceiling. All of them were knotted, the 'eyes' varied in size but all of them were small enough to fit within a plank.

"That's weird," Luz said, knocking on the door. There was barely any sound, and no echo beyond. "You shouldn't use wood with knots like these. You can knock them out if you have the right tools. Ruins the door integrity and then you can just bash it open."

"It is a magical library," Amity said. "It's not even a door, really. It's got no hinges."

"Gods, you're right." Luz folded her arms and dug her thumb into her forehead. "So… what is a door when it's not a door?"

Amity waved her hand, a purple-pink mist showering over the door, highlighting the seams and cracks in it, illuminating each eye. "Well, it is magical. Powerful enchantment too, obviously. Otherwise, this would have dispelled it."

"What's in the Library?" Luz asked. "Why is it here at all?"

"I don't know a lot," Amity said. "But from what I've read, it's a magical space within the College, but it has doors all over Skyrim. Maybe all of Tamriel. There isn't a lot on the insides or how to get in, but some think that it's a portion of Apocrypha, sliced off by some mage, eras ago."

"Apoc-a-what-now?"

"Apocrypha. Realm of Hermous Mora. The Demon of Knowledge. The Nords called him the Wood Man, or something."

"The Woodland Man?"

"Yes, that-" Amity spun to Luz, at the same time as Luz remembered why she knew that.

"Jyrik!" they said in unison, elation quickly fading to concern.

"So…" Luz nodded to the door. "Generations old library, filled with forbidden Daedric knowledge and someone who claimed to be the servant of the Woodland Man within a day of each other? Do you still have that necklace? The amulet from Saarthal?"

"You think it's connected?" Amity started to fish it off from around her neck. "I had Master Gestor look it over. No curses, just a minor enchantment for channeling magicka."

"Why minor?" Luz took the amulet and started to turn it over. "He was a powerful mage, right? What was he doing with a 'minor' magical object?"

"It's… a long story" Amity said, sighing. "In short, the Gauldrson brothers, three of them, murdered their father - a court mage, and a powerful one. My ancestors were part of the battlemage cohort to track them down and slay them.

"At least, that's what my father always told me. I feel like there's more to it, but he'd never say."

"So a powerful mage, and his magicka-inclined son, both wanted a minorly enchanted amulet to channel more magicka?" Luz shook her head. "You don't commit murder for that."

"You don't. Jyrik's father is only remembered for that amulet. He called it 'the Gauldrstone.'"

"But then what was that orb?"

"I'm not sure." Amity shrugged. "That's what the Psijics want us to find out in the Library of Eyes, though."

"Huh." Luz tapped the amulet against the door. "Open!"

"Did you think that would work?" Amity asked, giving Luz a small smile.

"No," Luz said. "But I hoped-"

"Wait…" Amity pointed to the door, just as a flicker of magic vanished. "Luz, do that again…"

Luz obliged, and Amity waved her hand over the amulet. A glimmer of light bubbled up from the door, pouring like a fountain out to the amulet and back again.

"When is a door, not a door?" Amity asked, grinning.

"When?" Luz asked, entranced by the bubbling energy.

"When it's a wall."

There was a gasping crack, like someone's breath being knocked out of them while their bones broke, and the wooden slates quivered, sliding past each other to reveal an unlit passage beyond.

"That was amazing," Luz said, grinning at Amity. "How did you figure it out?"

"Dad loved that pun," Amity said. "But the key was this." She gestured to the amulet. "I thought these were symbols of Magnus - ancient religious signs, things like that. But none of them lined up with what I knew.

"So, then you mentioned the Woodland Man. Thought maybe this was a door for Hermaus Mora."

"Knowledge, library," Luz said. "Makes sense."

"But then I remembered Dad's notes about the Shivering Isles. The Khajit believe that Sheogorath - or their version of him - guards the path to Mora's wisdom." She turned around to pin Dolores with a stare. "Dad loved your jokes, Dolores."

"He is a smart man," Dolores said. "Shall we? Now that you have revealed the path ahead."

"One problem," Amity said. "The enchantment on the door. When I tried to dispel it, I could see the runes guarding it. They named only one person unable to see it."

Dolores's too-many-teeth filled her grin. "Tread carefully, lass."

"I always tread carefully in the presence of a Prince," Amity said. "Lord Sheogorath."