Athene should have been glad things were back to normal in the Falkreath sanctuary, but they didn't feel normal without the jester's bizarre cackle, and the room with the Night Mother was suddenly abandoned. No one else wanted to go near. So Athene went alone, spent an hour Listening to nothing, and thought she understood a little better how silence had driven Cicero insane.

Festus Krex gave her the next target in their plan: The Gourmet, a famous chef. They'd get rid of him—or her—and take his place to get close to the Emperor. But Gabriella told her to go to Whiterun first and cash in on her last bonus: the fortune reading from Oleeva the Feeble.

"This is worthwhile," the alchemist urged. "I mean it. Whatever else is going on, you need to listen to what Oleeva has to say."

Athene and Gabriella hadn't bonded at all, so her enthusiasm for this fortune thing was interesting.

"Okay, I'll go there first," she said. "If I miss The Gourmet, though..."

Gabriella rolled her eyes.

The whole group appeared more relaxed since the incident with Cicero, as if now that he was gone nothing else could go wrong. Veezara was the only one who'd told Athene he was sorry.

"You're sorry?" she said. "He stabbed you."

"Yes, but his knife was intended for Astrid. I'm not sorry I stopped him, but I'm sorry you had to kill him for it."

Athene turned away before he saw her face. She wanted to thank him for his kindness but the lie was thick between them.

She started towards Whiterun late in the afternoon. She risked encountering more wolves, perhaps even bandits, but she thought the distraction would do her good. The sunset was molten gold and as night fell she looked up to High Hrothgar. Cicero had asked her if she'd go up and see the Greybeards. He hadn't told she should, like Farkas did, but he'd been interested which road she'd choose. At the time her decision had seemed uncomplicated, and look at how that turned out.

Nearing Riverwood she stopped dead.

"I can hear you," she said. "You may as well walk beside me."

Babette stepped out of the shadows, looking for all the world like a little girl lost. "I'm impressed," she said. "Most people can't hear me following them. Even people like us."

"You follow your friends a lot?" Athene nearly stumbled over her words. Colleagues, she'd meant to say. Follow your colleagues. Was Babette her friend?

With surprise, she realized she was.

The vampire stepped forward. In the low light her skin was luminous and her eyes too bright, nearly glowing.

"Astrid gives me jobs, but the tactic is usually the same. A child in distress, and then I reveal the truth. I get a little bored of it sometimes. So sometimes I follow and see what the rest of you get up to."

"Is this the first time you've followed me?"

Babette shook her head. "The whole sanctuary knows about your crush on the werewolf, you know. So you can stop worrying about that."

"I don't have a crush."

"Sure. Okay. Anyway, however fascinating your obsession with body hair might me, that's not why I'm following you today."

Athene took a deep breath and decided to leave the teasing alone. "Do tell," she said.

"Another thing I'm good at, as well as appearing innocent, is hearing things I'm not supposed to. I know, you're the Listener. But imagine how much you'd get to hear if you looked like a child and no one took you seriously."

There was a flash of something like pain across Babette face, evidence that not being taken seriously wasn't always a blessing, even for an assassin, and then it was gone.

"I've been hearing things out of Morthal," she continued. "The area has always been ripe with vampires, which is probably why that bastard Falion hangs around, studying them. There's a Master nearby called Movarth. I've had a few dealings with him. But now the rumours have changed. Apparently the townsfolk have started seeing some kind of ghost. A little girl. And some wastrel named Benor claims he woke up to find her leaning over his bed."

Athene closed her eyes. "Agni."

"I think so," Babette said.

"He didn't cure her."

"No surprise. I thought you should know for sure, though."

"And now what? Falion is the only one I know who can cure vampirism. Have you heard of some other way?"

Babette hesitated then shook her head.

"So if he's intent on keeping her the way she is, what should I do? Light her on fire?"

"No," the vampire said quickly. "I don't suggest that."

Athene finally asked what she'd been wondering for weeks. "What would you have wanted?"

Babette was quiet for a long time. She was so serious her face appeared almost as old as she really was, or at least an adult woman: lined with worries, heavy with dark memories.

"I would have wanted someone to ask me that," she said eventually. "Back then. No one ever asked me anything. I was a child from when I was a child until I finally ran away fifty years later."

"Ran away from who?"

She looked up into Athene's eyes. "Her name is Sybille Stentor."

"The Solitude court wizard? Babette, are you sure?"

"Are you kidding me? Of course I'm sure! I lived with her for half a century."

"She turned you into a vampire?"

"I... I don't know. I can't remember. But she was there when I woke up, and she explained what I was. Taught me how to hide, how to feed, and how to stay alive. She treated me all right, but eventually I had to go. I didn't want to be a child anymore. Turned out it didn't matter where I was, I was always going to be seen as a child, until the Brotherhood found me."

She shrugged.

"And sometimes even then," she admitted. "Nazir, he—"

She stopped as if she'd woken from a dream. Glared, and before Athene could ask a thing, she said, "What are you going to do?"

Athene raised her eyebrows. This decision also seemed uncomplicated, so she wondered what kind of madness it would bring her way.

"I'm going to ask Agni what she wants," she said.