Chapter 24
As Tamsyn had suspected, there were frost trolls wandering the ruins of the buildings that comprised the ancient city of Bromjunaar, now known as Labyrinthian. They seemed to gang up on the small party of adventurers all at once, but stood little chance against three hardened warriors and a Destruction mage who employed her fire-based spells with pin-point accuracy. Tamsyn paused a moment to harvest as much troll fat as she could – to Marcus' disgust – then led them over to a flight of steps leading up to the entrance of the main gate into the tombs themselves.
"Are you going to do that the whole time we're here?" Marcus complained.
"Do what?" Tamsyn asked innocently.
"Harvest every flower, shroom and body part you can," he said wrinkling his nose.
"These are alchemical ingredients!" she retorted, frowning. "And I wouldn't be so snarky about it if I were you! What do you think I use to make those potions you drink?"
"Trust Cicero," the little jester muttered. "Healer Tamsyn will stop every few minutes to pick something. Cicero thinks we could have made it through Mzulft much faster if sweet Tamsyn didn't stop to pick things up."
"I didn't hear you complaining when we found poisons those Falmer were making," Tamsyn sniffed.
"Cicero did not say he wouldn't use what he finds," the red-haired Imperial said loftily, "but he does not think we should try to bring home the entire ruin, piece by piece."
"What's that up there?" Argis called, interrupting them. He pointed to the top of the stairs where six ghostly figures had formed. They did not appear to notice the party of four standing just below them.
"It's the Arch-Mage!" Tamsyn said, her voice catching. "Savos Aren and his companions!"
"What are they doing?" Marcus asked, swords at the ready.
"They aren't doing anything," Tamsyn explained. "It's a replaying of something that happened in the past. Savos is that one there," she added, pointing. "The others are Atmah, Girduin, Elvali, Hafnar and the Argonian is Takes-in-Light," she said, indicating each one in turn.
"Come on, we're finally here!" the shade of Savos Aren said. "Let's not waste any more time!"
"Are we truly sure this is a good idea?" Takes-in-Light said doubtfully.
Atmah snorted. "We'll be back at the College before anyone even knows we're gone."
"You would care about that," Girduin said sourly, "since you're the Arch-Mage's favorite."
"Don't forget," Savos reminded them, "this whole idea was Atmah's to begin with."
"Let's just get inside," Hafnar said eagerly, "and see what's in there!"
The tableau faded from view.
Even to Marcus, the group of mages sounded very young and inexperienced. No wonder it hadn't gone well for them.
Tamsyn stepped over to the Ceremonial Door and brought out the huge iron torc Mirabelle Ervine had given her. With some help from Cicero, she fitted it onto the door and stepped back. Of its own accord, the torc raised and lowered itself three times, thundering its metallic clang throughout the ruins. Marcus cringed.
Sure, he thought, let's just alert everything inside that we're here.
The great iron doors opened under Tamsyn's hand, and the four companions entered the tomb. The first thing Marcus noticed was the number of skeletons lying on the floor near the entrance.
"Are these Savos' companions?" Argis asked, wide-eyed.
"No," Tamsyn said, shaking her head. "There's too many here for that. My guess is that they were here when the Arch-Mage and his friends came here the first time. The fact that they're gathered near the door tells me they were trying to escape. They're probably some other adventuring party that thought they could explore the ruins."
"How'd they get in then," the big Nord wondered, "if the door was locked?"
"Cicero thinks they may have come down from above," the jester said, pointing up. Sure enough, there was a large hole in the roof, letting in some daylight, shining on a stone table nearby. "Cicero believes they may have used a rope to climb down. If it was long ago enough, he thinks the rope has long since rotted away."
"I'm inclined to agree with you, Cicero," Marcus affirmed, kneeling by one of the remains. "These bones are pretty damn old, but it looks like whatever they may have had on them was removed before they were reduced to skeletons."
"The draugr sometimes do that," Tamsyn said, "if they've retained enough of their intelligence. They will kill anyone who intrudes, then hoard their belongings in chests, or put them on display on shelves and tables."
"Why do they do that?" Argis asked, shuddering. He hated draugr.
"Who knows?" Tamsyn shrugged. "Perhaps they're still performing the duties they did for the Dragon Priests when they were still alive. You know, guarding the temples, making offerings to the dragons, that kind of thing."
"Well, it looks like they've made an offering over here," Marcus said, getting up and moving over to the table. A single, solitary book lay there, embossed with some kind of tree on the cover.
"I'll take that, Marcus," Tamsyn said, before he could pick it up.
"What is it?" He knew it was a spell book. He'd seen plenty, and had even looked through a few. Some had given him goosebumps, but others seemed to have no effect on him at all.
"It's a spell book," she replied, tucking it into her pack without reading it.
"I know that," he frowned. "What kind of spell?"
"Alteration, from the emblem on the cover. It could be Telekinesis, or maybe Water-Breathing. They're both high-level spells." Tamsyn gave him a sharp look. "Have you done any magic at all, Marcus, since you came to Skyrim?"
He shook his head. "I haven't seen the need," he replied. "And honestly, I didn't think I could."
Tamsyn sighed. "Anyone can do magic, Marcus. If you study it as I have can you do a lot of it, and do it very well. But as an Imperial you should at least know a simple, basic healing spell, and maybe even the Destruction spell, Flames."
That was the one he'd seen her do before, shooting fire from her hands in a continuous blast.
"Like I said, I've never really tried," he said, sheepishly.
"When we get out of this, I'll teach you a few things," she promised.
"Ooo!" Cicero giggled. "Will pretty Tamsyn teach Cicero, too?" he pleaded. "Pretty, pretty please?"
Tamsyn laughed. "You're a one-man wrecking crew as it is, Cicero," she grinned. "I don't think—"
"Hey," said Argis. "Looks like our friends are back!"
Sure enough, they turned and saw the six ghostly figures appear by the gate at the far end of the chamber.
"I can't believe we're doing this!" the elven sorceress, Elvali exulted.
Savos grinned. "Can you imagine the looks on their faces when we come back?"
Hafnar didn't seem as excited as the others. "You keep talking like you're sure we'll find something useful in here."
"Given the history of this place," Girduin mused, "it's more than likely there's still some amount of power here."
"Enchanted weapons," Savos said almost dreamily, "tomes of ancient knowledge, Shalidor's secrets themselves – who know what we could find!"
But the Argonian, Takes-in-Light, was still not sure. "And what if…what if there are things guarding this place?" she worried.
"Against six College-trained mages?" Atmah scoffed. "I think we'll be fine."
The figures faded once more, and Marcus, knowing how the expedition ended for the Arch-Mage, was filled with a sense of dread. What if Tamsyn was wrong? What if her over-confidence would be their downfall, as it had been for Savos Aren and his friends? Pushing those dark thoughts aside, he went over to the area where the apparitions had appeared.
He examined the entrance to the short tunnel that ended in an iron gate. There was a lever on one side, and he moved over to it. It probably lifted the gate.
"Before you do that, Marcus," Tamsyn warned. He stopped.
"Yes?"
"There are magic-wielding skeletons in the next chamber," she told him. "When you lift that gate, only one or two of us will make it through before it falls again. You'll be trapped on the other side until we can lift the gate."
"That doesn't sound so difficult to Cicero!" the little jester said. "Cicero will stabbity-stab them until their bones go back to sleep!"
"That's not everything, Cicero," Tamsyn said. "There's an undead dragon in there, too, and it will awaken when we go in. We'll be fighting a dozen Destruction-wielding skeletons plus the lich-dragon."
"I've got the dragon," Marcus said, "if you can keep the skeletons off me."
"I've got your back, my Thane!" Argis declared, tightening his grip on the Nordic sword.
"Cicero will grind the bones to dust for pretty Tamsyn to use in her potions!" he promised.
Tamsyn smiled, unsheathing her carved, rose staff. "And I brought this, to even the odds in our favor a bit," she said.
"What is it?" Marcus asked. "What does it do?"
"It's called Sanguine Rose," Tamsyn said. "It will summon a Dremora – a lesser daedra from the planes of Oblivion – to fight for me for a short time. So don't kill it, please?"
"Where did you pick that up?" Argis whistled.
"I'd rather not say," Tamsyn said, coloring slightly. "It's too embarrassing to go into. Suffice to say it should help us. I used it in Mzulft, and it really helped having that extra fighting power on our side, didn't it, Cicero?"
"Ooo, yes!" he nodded vigorously. "Cicero sneaked, sweet Tamsyn cast her spells, and the Dremora Kynreeve cut the Falmer and the Dwarven constructs down with his fiery greatsword! Cicero was most impressed!"
"Alright," Marcus said, "here's what we do: Cicero and I will go in first, together. Cicero, do your best to sneak around and take out the skeletons without them seeing you. You're lightly armored, and I don't know how much protection that flimsy motley of yours is going to give you."
"Flimsy motley!" Cicero exclaimed, outraged. "Cicero will have you know—"
"Shush, Cicero," Tamsyn said soothingly. "This isn't the time or the place. I think your jester's outfit is just perfect for you."
"I meant no disrespect," Marcus sighed. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt – even you," he threw at the red-haired Imperial.
Cicero settled, but it was clear he was still offended.
"Argis," Marcus continued, "stay with Tamsyn and watch out for her. She's not wearing any kind of armor at all. I know you trust your spells," he told her, "but even leather armor would have been a good idea."
"I don't like how it chafes," she shrugged. "If we ever take out a vampire, though, I'd consider wearing their armor. I think I'd look pretty bad-ass in it."
"Cicero has seen vampire armor," the little man offered. "Pretty Tamsyn would look very good in it!"
The image of Tamsyn in the tight-fitting, revealing black, gray or red leather armor favored by the vampires he'd killed sent a curl of pleasure right through Marcus' core, and he hurriedly pushed that distracting thought away.
"Alright, then," he said. "Get ready. Here we go!"
He threw the lever and the iron gate creaked open. He and Cicero raced through. They barely cleared it before it clanged shut behind them, but they couldn't worry about that at the moment. The ground erupted in the vast chamber before them and several skeletons rose from the sandy soil. Cicero slipped off to the right, and Marcus didn't see him after that. Several skeletons rushed him, bony hands outstretched in front of them, hitting him with Frostbite and Ice Spikes as he advanced, laying about him with the dual-wielding technique the Ghost of Old Hroldan had taught him. Somewhere off to the side he heard Cicero laughing gleefully.
"…And if I spy a singing bird, I'll snap its neck before it's heard!...hee hee hee!"
Block, whirl, slice, parry. Marcus was keeping the skeletons at bay, but the ground was rumbling under his feet, and something gigantic was clawing its way out of the mound in the center of the cavern.
Dimly he heard the iron grate behind him lift again, and Tamsyn and Argis rushed through before it closed.
"I'm gonna crush you like a bug!" Argis roared, putting himself between Tamsyn and three skeletons. Tamsyn pointed her rose staff further into the chamber and concentrated. A warping sound was heard, and stepping through the purple and black miasma was a tall, muscled humanoid figure with horns on his head as well as his armor, which was as black as night and glowed an evil red from within, like Cicero's dagger.
"I…smell….weakness!" the creature – the Dremora – rumbled. It drew the hugest greatsword Marcus had ever seen and advanced on a cluster of skeletons, sweeping the blade before it, crushing the bones of the first two to get in its way.
Tamsyn blasted two more with her firebolts, clearing the way for Marcus to deal with the skeletal dragon that had emerged from the mound. Its blank eyes stared around for a moment and fixed on the Dremora, who was standing closest to it. Opening it gaping maw, the dragon breathed out a column of fire at the Dremora, who cried, "I honor my lord, by destroying you!" before bringing the greatsword down on the abomination's horny snout.
Sprinting forward, Marcus Shouted out, "FUS RO DAH!" to get the creature's attention before slashing and whirling with the two Akaviri blades.
There was no place for the dragon to fly here, even if it could. It was pinned to the ground and could only snap with its deadly jaws and breathe out a column of flame to roast anyone unfortunate enough to get into its path. Marcus was still wearing the ring that protected him from cold, which had helped against the skeletons, but he was now wishing he could take the time to swap it for the other which would guard him from fire.
But the dragon was snapping at him and he dodged to his left, bringing Dragonbane down on the creature's unprotected wing. He heard bones chipping, and the undead nightmare shrieked as if there were still tendons and nerve endings which could transmit pain to its brain.
This thing shouldn't exist! he thought. What's keeping it together? How is it even able to breathe fire?
An Ice Spike caught him in the back, and he grunted. It didn't hurt as badly as it could have; the ring gave him some protection, but he had enough to worry about right now with the dragon.
"I'm on it, Thane!" Argis called out, racing over to the skeleton responsible.
"No, wait, Argis!" Marcus tried to call out, but the dragon was breathing again and he had to dodge out of the way. He didn't want to leave Tamsyn unprotected, and sparing a quick look around, he couldn't see her from his vantage point.
The Dremora winked out of existence, only to reappear a moment later on the other side of the dragon, where it began attacking the hindquarters of the beast.
"Stabbity-stabbity-stab!" Cicero called out from somewhere. "Oh, Cicero could do this all day!"
Another Ice Spike whizzed past Marcus, hitting the dragon square in the snout.
"Ha ha! Got you!" he heard Tamsyn crow, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
Enraged, the dragon snapped at Marcus again, and he took the opportunity to leap onto its head, the way he'd done to Sahloknir in Kynesgrove.
"I've killed bigger dragons than you," he growled at it, stabbing down with Dragonbane. "Better ones, too! Some of them even had names!"
With a shudder, the dragon collapsed under the combined assault of the four adventurers, the skeletons having been dealt with, and Marcus leaped lightly off its head as it died, giving up its soul, which boiled forth and sank into Marcus. He closed his eyes until the soul settled itself into a corner of his mind, waiting to be used to unlock another Word.
"Awww," Cicero said plaintively. "Cicero wanted to send its soul to Sithis!"
After ensuring no one had gotten hurt, Tamsyn led the way over to the far side of the chamber while Cicero plundered the skeletal remains. Marcus pried a few bones and scales off the dragon.
Another spectral scenario played out before them as they entered the next chamber, but there were only five figures this time.
"We…we have to go back," Elvali cried. "We can't leave Girduin…"
And indeed, the image of the Bosmer mage seemed to be the one missing.
"We barely made it out alive," Hafnar, spluttered, "and you want to go back in?"
"It's too late," Atmah said in a shocked voice. "There isn't enough left to go back in after."
"Gods," moaned Takes-in-Light. "What have we done?"
"We can't go back," Savos insisted. "Might as well go forward. We can still do this."
"Savos is right," Atmah said. "We can make it if we just stay alert."
The figures faded and the chamber was silent once more.
"Tamsyn," Marcus began. "What did Savos mean, they couldn't go back?"
The Breton girl looked uncomfortable. "I'm not sure," she said. "I don't think they knew there was another lever on this side of the gate back there."
"Wait here," Marcus said. "I'll be right back." He returned the way they'd come and crossed the bone-strewn cavern to the iron gate. Locating the lever, he pulled it. Nothing happened. The gate remained closed. He returned to the others.
"The lever doesn't work," he informed them. "So just like Savos and his companions, we can only go forward."
"This isn't right!" Tamsyn whispered, worried.
"There's nothing we can do about it now," Marcus said. "Just stay alert. Tamsyn, we're still relying on you to let us know what's up ahead." But the fact that one little thing had changed between the game and 'real life' bothered him. What other problems might they encounter for which Tamsyn was not prepared?
There was a plaque in this room, which Marcus read aloud:
"Hail All – Brave City Bromjunaar! Forever these walls shall stand. May enemies see her majesty. May all quake to behold her."
"I wonder what this place looked like when it was new," Argis said thoughtfully. "You know, with all the people living here and everything."
"It must have been quite a wonder to behold," Tamsyn agreed quietly.
Beyond the door in this chamber were twin staircases, heading down. Cicero found a chest hidden in an alcove on the right-hand side which yielded a few more potions and some gold. Rather a lot of gold, as it turned out. By mutual consent, they decided to wait to divide up whatever loot they found until they were able to leave Labyrinthian, unless it happened to be something they could use. Cicero hung onto the gold.
"Cicero is no thief," he told them staunchly, raising his chin a little. "He will keep it until we leave, when we can all share in the spoils."
Marcus kept his dubious thoughts to himself, since Tamsyn seemed to trust the little madman.
As they descended the stairs, a deep, rasping voice rang out, echoing up and down the corridors. All three men tensed and held their weapons at the ready, but Tamsyn blanched and staggered.
"Wo meyz wah dii vul junaar?" the voice demanded.
"Tamsyn!" Marcus exclaimed, catching her before she fell. "Are you alright? What just happened?"
"Pretty Tamsyn!" Cicero fretted. "Sweet Tamsyn! Don't faint, please don't faint!"
"I'm alright," Tamsyn gasped. It was one thing to see one's magicka bar drain on screen; it was another thing entirely to feel it being sapped from one's very being. Slowly, as she felt it returning, the color came back into her cheeks. "It was Morokei," she said, breathing hard. "When he speaks, he drains my magicka. It was probably one of the things that put Savos and his friends at such a disadvantage."
"I didn't feel anything," Argis said. Marcus and Cicero also shook their heads.
"Your magicka pools aren't as deep as mine," Tamsyn said, still unnerved. "You don't rely on it as I do on mine. Let's keep going."
"Are you sure?" Marcus said. "We can take a break if you need to."
She shook her head. "No, let's push on. We still have a long way to go. Morokei will keep draining my magicka periodically, but it's only a temporary thing. I can already feel it back up to almost-full again."
"Alright," Marcus said doubtfully. "If you're sure."
"Cicero will stay close to pretty Tamsyn," the jester promised.
Surprisingly, that comment made Marcus feel much better, knowing she would be protected.
"Thanks, Cicero," he smiled.
"Cicero isn't doing this for the Dragonborn," the little Imperial muttered. "He's doing it for sweet Tamsyn. The Dragonborn shouldn't make Cicero like him." He didn't see the smile that flitted across Marcus' face.
Another door loomed, and this one seemed to be covered in ice. A draugr stepped out of an open standing casket to attack, and Argis cut him down before anyone could react. Tamsyn stepped over to the door and stretched out both palms, streaming flames at it until the ice melted. A figure stepped out of the ice, but disintegrated under the onslaught of Tamsyn's spell. Beyond this doorway, a large chasm stretched away from them, with a ramp-like pathway leading down. They heard the rasping cough of draugr coming from somewhere below.
"Nivahriin muz fent siiv nid aaz het," Morokei's voice boomed forth, and again, Tamsyn staggered. Cicero caught her, a frown crossing his features.
"Cicero will find this Morokei and stabbity-stab him for hurting his dear Tamsyn!"
They gave her a moment to recover before entering the chasm.
And so it went. They advanced, they fought draugr, or skeletons, or both. Tamsyn warned them of a lightning rune on a door right before Argis would have pulled it open. Standing well back, she detonated the rune, and they fought the draugr beyond the door. They looted and resumed their inexorable trek through the temple.
"You do not answer," came Morokei's voice at one point. "Must I use this…guttural…language of yours?"
"I think we have his attention," Marcus said wryly.
"He still thinks we're Savos, though," Tamsyn said.
Sure enough, after several minutes and a few skirmishes with draugr later, Morokei spoke again.
"Have you returned, Aren? My old friend? Do you seek to finish that which you could not?"
Each time Morokei spoke, Tamsyn staggered, but she bravely gritted her teeth and refused to take a rest. Marcus was getting worried. They'd been traveling since early in the morning, and had stopped only once for food at midday. It had to be after sunset now, but Tamsyn refused to stop.
Finally, as they reached an area where a small stream ran through, he called a halt.
"We need to rest," he said.
"We can't stop," Tamsyn said, but her voice was strained with the effort to stay awake. She'd been stumbling for the last half hour.
"Yes, we can," Marcus insisted. "We can afford a couple hours of sleep. I'll take the first watch. I'll wake Argis in an hour and he'll keep an eye out while I get some sleep. You and Cicero just relax."
"Cicero does not need sleep," the little madman declared. "He will also stay awake and watch."
"Suit yourself," Marcus said. "Grab a bite to eat and then get some rest, Tamsyn. You're almost completely worn out."
For a moment he thought she might argue with him, but then she slumped and nodded. "It's Morokei," she said. "The strain of being on my guard against him."
"Get some rest," Marcus smiled. "Cicero and I will keep watch."
With Argis and Tamsyn settled for a while, Marcus turned his attention to the jester.
"So, Cicero, where do you come from?" he asked.
"Cicero has traveled all over," he said shortly. "But the Dragonborn can plainly see the Cicero is from Cyrodiil."
Okay, so the little guy didn't want to make small talk. Fine.
"Where did you learn to fight?" Marcus asked, trying again.
The motley-clad jester shrugged. "Here, there, everywhere," he murmured. "Cicero is very good with his knives. He keeps them nice and sharp, yes! The better for stabbing with, ho ho ho!"
No doubt about it. The little nutball was completely insane. Tamsyn had warned him that Cicero was 'unbalanced', but that didn't even begin to describe it.
One last attempt to make nice.
"Do you have any family? Parents? Brothers? Sisters?"
A dangerous gleam came into Cicero's eyes.
"Cicero had Brothers and Sisters, yes!" he growled. "But they were killed by a Dragon!" The quiet ferocity with which he snarled the last word startled even Marcus. However, the little man seemed to get himself under control. "Cicero takes good care of his dear Mother, and serves his Father, as any good Son would do."
With that, he turned his back to Marcus to walk back down the corridor from which they'd come, ostensibly to ensure nothing crept up on them from behind.
Touchy little bastard, Marcus thought. I was just trying to be nice.
So, his siblings were dead, but his father and mother were still alive.
Wait a minute…that can't be right. Marcus frowned as he remembered something Tamsyn had told him about Cicero.
"He was transporting the body of his Mother to her final resting place when the wheel fell off his wagon."
How could Cicero take care of his mother if she was already dead? Did he mean a step-mother, perhaps?
Cicero was hiding something, Marcus was sure of it, but did he care enough to get to the bottom of it? Maybe. After all, he was putting his life in the little madman's hands while they went through this temple. He would like to know he could trust him.
Argis seemed to trust Cicero. The two of them had hit it off right from the start. And Tamsyn had declared time and again that she trusted the Imperial jester. So why was he being the wet blanket?
Because you have a suspicious nature, he answered himself. He stewed about it for the rest of the hour, when Cicero came back and declared he was tired enough to sleep for a bit now. Marcus woke Argis, but by mutual consent, they agreed to let Tamsyn sleep. If anything were to attack them, Argis would give the warning.
He woke an hour later, from a deep sleep troubled with questions that had no answers.
After a brief meal of bread and cheese, washed down with wine, they gathered their packs together and continued on. The next chamber they came to was large, and Marcus could hear the grunting of a troll from somewhere below. Cicero still seemed to be out-of-sorts and rushed ahead, drawing the troll out of its lair, then slipping around behind it and leaping onto its back. The Daedric dagger flashed in the dim light of the torches and before Marcus or Argis could even get down the stairs, the troll was dead.
"You…" Morokei rasped. "You are not Aren, are you? Has he sent you in his place? Did he warn you that your own power would be your undoing? That it would only serve to strengthen me?"
Tamsyn sank to her knees, and Argis picked her up in his arms.
Crap, she thought sourly. The one thing I wanted, and he's not even interested in me. Aloud she said, "I can walk, Argis. You don't need to carry me."
"Are you sure?" he asked kindly. "You don't look so good."
"It will be over soon," she said. "One way or the other."
Argis set her down, but threw a worried look at his Thane. Marcus compressed his lips before saying shortly, "Come on. Let's keep moving."
More draugr. More traps. More trolls. More treasure. Cicero liked the treasure, but he didn't like the draugr.
"Filthy abominations!" he snarled as his ebony blade took one out while the Daedric dagger cut another so deeply it staggered. "Cicero will send you to the Void! Stay dead, damn you!"
As bad as the draugr were, the Wispmother was worse. Argis went down and lay unmoving while Tamsyn crawled over to him, a deep gash in her leg where an Ice Spike protruded. Cicero howled and slashed his way across the graveyard, trying to get through the wisps that floated around, biting at them with their bone-chilling cold. Marcus was trying to slash at the Wispmother herself but she had split herself into two more images, and he couldn't tell which one was the real one and which were the decoys.
Tamsyn cast her strongest healing spell on Argis, who groggily opened his eyes. He tried to sit up, but she shoved a healing potion into his hand and said, "Drink this, and stay here!" before casting another healing on herself.
Cicero had taken out the last of the wisps and leaped on top of one of the gravestones to boost himself up to the upper level where Marcus was still trying to figure out which Wispmother was the real one.
The little jester slashed at one of the images, which exploded in a wave of frost that radiated outward. Cicero yelped and tumbled out of the way, but he still got caught in the blast. Marcus slashed with both Akaviri blades, but again, it was merely a decoy that caught him full in the chest with its explosion of ice. Fortunately, he still had the frost ring on his finger and the damage was minimal.
"That just leaves that bitch over there!" he exclaimed, and Cicero nodded, leaping up on a stack of coffins against the wall.
Marcus slashed with Dragonbane as Cicero leaped. The Akaviri steel sliced through the Wispmother as Cicero landed on her back, stabbing down with both daggers. The Wispmother shrieked and exploded. Cicero tumbled clear, and Marcus leaped to one side of the stack of coffins, avoiding most of the blast.
"Ho ho ho! You're nothing but snow!" Cicero taunted.
Marcus rushed back down to where Argis and Tamsyn were still healing themselves. "Are you two alright?" he asked, worried.
"I'm fine, Thane," Argis said. "Tamsyn set me right."
"And you?" Marcus asked, turning to the Breton girl. Worry etched his face. She wasn't looking good. She looked pale and wan, and her face was taut with strain.
"I'll be fine," she said, getting up. "Cicero? Could you grab those wisp cores for me, please?" she called. She was moving slowly, limping a little on the leg that had taken the ice spike.
Marcus put his hand on her shoulder and turned her around. "No, you're not fine," he said. "Tamsyn, what's going on? Talk to me."
She hesitated. "It's this place," she said finally. "I feel Morokei getting stronger, every time he drains my magicka. And I'm getting a little weaker each time he does." She looked up at him then, and he saw the fear in her eyes. "This was never in the game," she whispered.
"What do we do?" Marcus asked, alarmed. If anything happened to Tamsyn, they might have to fight their way out of Labyrinthian blindly. If that happened, they might not all make it out at all.
"We keep going," Tamsyn said dully. "We have to. We don't have a choice."
Past the fire spirit, with Tamsyn leaning heavily on Cicero after shooting the door with a simple Frostbite spell. And then they were in a circular room where the apparitions of Savos Aren and his group appeared once more, with one less party member.
"Come on," Savos urged them. "We can't stop now. We have to keep moving."
"Where's Elvali?" Atmah cried. "She was right behind me!"
Hafnar spoke in a broken voice. "Dead," he moaned. "Something grabbed her from behind. Gone before I could do anything."
Takes-in-Light hung her head. "This is insanity," she muttered. "We never should have come here."
"You're right," Atmah wailed. "This is all my fault. Should we turn around and go back?"
"I don't think going back is a good idea," Hafnar said hesitantly, shaking his head.
"Going back would be the end of all of us," Savos said, desperately. "We keep pushing forward, and we'll make it. We will!"
Atmah laid her hand on Takes-in-Light's shoulder. "Come on," she said encouragingly. "You can make it. Let's go."
The shades of the past faded once more.
"Cicero thinks they might have been better off heading back," said the red-haired jester.
"Do you want to go back, Cicero?" Tamsyn asked him.
He shook his head vigorously. "Cicero will stay with dear Tamsyn," he insisted. "If Tamsyn needs the Staff of Magnus to stop the hated Thalmor, Ancano, then Cicero will be right by her side."
She smiled faintly. "Thank you, Cicero," she said simply.
They moved on. There were more draugr, and these knew Destruction magic, though they only cast cold-based spells. Tamsyn summoned her Dremora Kynreeve again, and held back while the others took care of the enemies.
A door at the end of the tunnel system, past a trap door in the floor, led down into a chamber with a door at the end. The draugr here were different; they were ghostly, and they were accompanied by spectral war hounds. The dogs were easy to kill; the draugr, less so, and some of them knew Shouts. Again and again they fought their way through the tunnels beyond inhabited by the spectral warriors. Marcus kept one of the swords and one of the bows, just because they were different from anything else he'd ever seen.
"You won't be able to temper them," Tamsyn grinned.
"I don't care," he shot back with a matching grin. "They look cool."
Tamsyn called a halt before they left the rough-hewn tunnels to enter into an area of a worked stone corridor.
"There are spellcaster traps up ahead," she warned.
"What are those?" Marcus asked.
"Traps with sparkly soul gems that cast nasty hurting spells," Cicero said. "Cicero could sneak in there and grab the gems for sweet Tamsyn, hmm?" he offered.
"You wouldn't get far, Cicero," Tamsyn said. "There are two down at the far end pointing this way, and they'll roast you with fireballs before you can get very far. There's also a frost rune on the floor half way down. The cross-fire from the other three alone would make short work of you."
"What's the best way to eliminate them, then?" Marcus asked.
Tamsyn gave him a smirk. "Use your Unrelenting Force straight down the hallway," she said. "Wear the fire protection ring; it will help some. And if you have a potion of fire resistance on you, that will help, too."
"Won't my Shout alert anything up ahead?" he asked.
"Yes, but there's only a handful, and I think we can handle them."
Marcus nodded and switched the ring out, then drank his last Resist Fire potion. It wasn't very strong, but it was all he had. He stepped over to the end of the corridor closest to them and inhaled to Shout.
FWOOM!
The twin fireballs hit him head-on, and he staggered for a moment before clenching his fists and inhaling before the next onslaught.
"FUS RO DAH!"
The Shout bounced off the walls of the narrow hallway, echoing and reverberating up and down its length. The soul gems in their receptacles were knocked clear from the force of his Thu'um, landing on the floor at the bases.
From somewhere up ahead, he heard the coughing grunt of several draugr, but none came into the hallway to challenge them.
Tamsyn moved forward to collect the soul gems while Cicero scooted to the end of the corridor to peer out an opening in the stonework to the chamber beyond.
"Cicero sees another ghostly draugr and his transparent pooch," he announced. "But he also hears some moving around above our heads."
A short flight of stairs led up and into the next chamber, with a ramp spurring off to the left and leading further up. Cicero crept up the ramp while Marcus and Argis took on the draugr in the chamber below. Tamsyn held back again, summoning her Dremora at the top of the ramp to assist Cicero in taking out the enemies above.
In the next chamber Cicero was able to get a particularly difficult lock open – he only broke seven picks to do it – and brought back the loot he'd found inside, including a horned helmet with a fire resistance enchantment on it and an ebony shield. By mutual consent, they gave the shield to Argis, who was delighted.
"That helmet is the Ancient Helmet of the Unburned," Tamsyn said.
"Who used to own it?" Marcus asked.
Tamsyn shrugged. "I don't know. That information is lost to the ages, I'm afraid. But if you don't mind looking like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer in that thing, it should give you some decent protection against fire-based attacks."
"Dear Tamsyn," Cicero began, perplexed, "who is Rudolph, and how can a reindeer have a red nose?"
"I'll tell you sometime, after we get out of here," she chuckled. "There's even a song about it."
"Ooo!" Cicero squealed. "Is it as good as the other song Tamsyn taught Cicero? About the black widows in the privy?"
Marcus blinked. "You know that song?" he grinned. "I didn't think anyone would know that song but me."
"I've been around the block a few times," Tamsyn smirked, then suddenly gasped and sank to her knees as another wave of magicka drain hit her.
"We've got to kill that bastard," Marcus gritted as he supported her.
"We're close," Tamsyn whispered faintly. "Just a little further on, past the Word Wall."
"There's a Word Wall down here?" Marcus asked, eyes brightening.
She nodded as she regained her feet, though she still seemed unsteady. "Yes, just beyond this door. There will be a draugr Deathlord waiting, so prepare yourselves."
It was a short, ugly fight. Cicero snuck in behind the draugr, seated on a throne of stone and iron, facing the Word Wall. Marcus could hear the chanting almost as soon as they stepped into the chamber. When the little jester stabbed with his Daedric dagger from behind, the draugr Deathlord stood and backhanded the last Son of Sithis into a far corner, where he groggily shook his head to clear it.
Marcus and Argis closed in from opposite sides, and Marcus targeted the Deathlord with his Marked for Death Shout. He only knew the first Word, so it wasn't as effective as he'd hoped, but it helped to weaken the Deathlord while they whittled away at him with their swords.
Cicero regained his feet and joined in, and soon the Deathlord succumbed, crumpling to the ground. Marcus learned tiid, which meant "time". Unlocking its deeper meaning with the soul from the skeletal dragon, he realized that the Shout would slow time for others, allowing him a chance to act freely. To others, he would appear to be moving much more rapidly, while their own perception of reality would be slowed.
This one could be very useful, he thought.
"One more gauntlet to run before we face Morokei," Tamsyn said.
"What's next?" Argis asked.
"There's a corridor up ahead with pillars flanking either side," she told them. "Draugr Deathlords and skeletons will be hiding behind those pillars."
This one was neither short nor easy. The Deathlords blasted them with Unrelenting Force. The wights and scourges threw every ounce of ice at them before attempting to cut them down. Tamsyn was nearly taken out right at the beginning, as another wave of magicka drain hit her. She summoned her Dremora once more, which helped, but the battering she took from the Thu'ums leveled at her left her bruised and bleeding. Argis tried to stay close by, to keep her from harm, but even the big Nord ended up flying across the room when two of the Deathlords leveled their Thu'ums at him.
Marcus laid about him with the two Akaviri blades, slicing, cutting, parrying and blocking. He head-butted one of the scourge who had trapped his Blades sword with his ebony war axe, but almost ended up seeing stars himself.
Okay, note to self, he thought ruefully. Don't do that again!
Cicero danced in and out, here and there. When he got slammed into a corner with the Unrelenting Shout, two wights focused their attention on him with their cold spells in one hand and their ebony weapons in the other. The little jester was in a bad way, and even his banter seemed forced.
"Ow…it hurts when Cicero laughs…heh heh…"
"Cicero!" Argis cried out, but he was pinned down by a determined Deathlord and was unable to get free.
Tamsyn sent a firebolt towards one of the scourges, who dodged out of the way and shot an Ice Spike at her, catching her full in the face. She went down, and her Dremora winked out.
"Tamsyn!" Marcus watched in horror as a Deathlord closed in on the Breton mage to finish her off. He couldn't use his Unrelenting Force because he would catch her in it, possibly killing her.
"Tiid!" he Shouted.
Instantly everything seemed to slow around him, yet he felt free to move. So he did. He ducked under the slow swing of the ebony war axe coming at him and sprinted across the room, slicing open the Deathlord as he passed it. Desiccated flesh separated from the sinews and muscles under it, and in slow motion he saw the Deathlord jerk backward and topple over. He slashed down once more just to be sure, and pulled out the scroll she'd given him at the beginning of this expedition, just as time caught up with him.
"By the blessings of the Aedra, may the light of Aetherius enter into and heal you!" he read aloud.
A warm, enveloping, peachy-pink and golden light streamed out from his hands, sinking into Tamsyn and illuminating her from within for just a moment before it disappeared. Her eyelids fluttered open.
"Potion…" she croaked. Marcus quickly rummaged in her belt pouch and found a familiar red bottle.
"I need to help the others," he said, desperate.
"Go," she whispered. "I'll live."
He nodded, glancing around to see that Argis had finally taken out the Deathlord threatening him, and was advancing on the two scourges who were beating on Cicero's bloodied form. The little man was crouched in the corner, desperately trying to ward off their attacks.
"Cicero…is coming…Mother…" he moaned.
"Not yet!" Argis roared, cleaving one of the scourges almost in two with the force of his blow. Marcus came up behind the other and with dual precision, decapitated the undead horror.
"Cicero!" Argis called, worried. "Cicero, speak to me!"
"Cicero goes to the Void now," the jester said softly. "Is there dancing…in the Void? Surely…the dread Father would allow….allow Cicero a caper or two?"
"You're not dying, Cicero," Tamsyn said softly, stumbling over to him. "You just think you are." She gestured and let healing energy fill her hands, directing it towards Cicero, whose cuts healed and bruises faded.
Marcus stood by, watching and listening.
The Void. Dread Father. And caring for a Mother who had already passed away. He didn't like the conclusions he was coming to, but he didn't have time to think about that right now.
"Are you strong enough to go on?" he asked now.
"Cicero will be able to fight, if the Dragonborn gives him a few moments to rest," the jester said, breathing hard.
"I need a few minutes also," Tamsyn said. "That last wave of magicka drain was the worst by far."
A glimmering beyond the end of the corridor caught their eyes, and the saw the figures of Savos Aren and only two other members of the ill-fated team standing in a small antechamber.
"We shouldn't have left her there to die!" Atmah sobbed.
"What else could we do?" Savos demanded, frustrated, angry and scared. "Stay there and die with her? She refused to go on, we didn't have a choice!"
"This is it, you know," Hafnar said quietly. "Through this door. Can you feel it?"
"We're not going to make it, are we?" Atmah sniffled.
"We stick together," Hafnar insisted. "No matter what. Agreed?"
"Agreed," said Savos. "We all stay together."
The figures vanished. Tamsyn gave a shuddering sigh.
"What happened to them, Tamsyn?" Marcus asked quietly. "You said six of them went in, but only Savos Aren came out alive. What happened to Atmah and Hafnar?"
"We're about to find out," Tamsyn said. "This is the final chamber. Morokei lies beyond those doors."
"What, he's just wandering around in there?" Argis asked, cuddling Cicero closer, who didn't object in the slightest.
"No," said Tamsyn. "He's being held in stasis by the last two left behind – Atmah and Hafnar."
"But you said this happened at least a couple hundred years ago," Marcus pointed out. "How could they still be alive? They were human!"
"They're enthralled ghosts, now," Tamsyn said. "Bound here to keep Morokei contained; bound by Savos Aren himself."
"He did this to his own friends?" Marcus exclaimed in horror. "After promising they'd all stick together?"
"It was his secret shame," Tamsyn said. "At the time, he felt he didn't have any choice."
"If Morokei is holding the Staff dear Tamsyn needs," Cicero began, "and is being held by the other two mages, then how can sweet Tamsyn get the Staff?"
"We have to release Morokei," Tamsyn said quietly. "We have to destroy the other two specters, which will free Morokei. And then we'll have to destroy him."
"Six College-trained wizards couldn't take him out, Tamsyn," Marcus reminded her.
"I know that," she said. "But while Morokei is strong against magic, he's weak against physical assaults. The best thing to do is to get in there and hit him hard with everything you've got. Get right up in his face so he can't use magic effectively. He's a lich-lord, a former Dragon Priest, so you'll still have to be very careful. Use your potions, your Shouts, your skills with your blades."
"And what will you be doing?" Argis asked.
"I'll use my magic. Lightning will help drain his magicka, so he can't use it against you, but he's powerful – much more powerful than I. We'll have to take him out as quickly as possible."
Marcus considered this for several moments. "Alright," he said finally. "Let's go see what we're up against."
He placed his hand on the latch of the iron doors, and Morokei's voice rang out once more.
"Come…come and face your death."
Tamsyn fainted dead away.
[Author's Note: Next chapter will be up very soon.]