Chapter 12: What About Babette?

I had known for some time that Babette wasn't like other girls. Most girls our age weren't highly-trained killers, professionally skilled alchemists, or the proud owners of a monstrous pet, for example. It went beyond all that, though. From the moment I met Babette, I had sensed something odd about her. At first, I just thought that she was trying too hard to be grown-up; eventually, I began to think she wasn't trying too hard, just that she didn't understand how to be a child.

I knew the feeling.

Even beyond all of that, there was a strangeness to her that I couldn't fully articulate. Since I didn't understand people that well to begin with, it was hard to quantify what it was about Babette that was stranger than any other person I knew. It was also hard to compare to the people around us, since the remainder of our family consisted of a mad jester, a crazed Khajiit, a sarcastic Redguard, and the Dragonborn. I'm not sure I even knew anyone who might count as "normal."

As the cool Skyrim spring had bled into the warm days of summer, I frequently went out fishing with Hecate. This normally consisted of me piloting the small rowboat that Nazir had built for me and casting my line to catch fish for dinner while Hecate sat at the far end of the boat reading a book. I was usually content to just be near her, occasionally trading brief anecdotes about my training in exchange for her carefully parceled-out praise. One day near the end of Mid Year, though, my curiosity got the better of me.

"Babette isn't like other girls, is she?" I asked, blurting out the question without the slightest bit of lead-in. I hated my inability to communicate effectively, especially with the people that mattered the most to me, but the words never seemed to come out of my mouth in the same shape they had in my head. Fortunately, Hecate was always patient with me. At my question, she folded away her book and looked up at me very seriously.

"She is an assassin, dear," she said kindly, and clearly avoiding the question.

"No, not that," I insisted. I knew I shouldn't be pressing my luck, but it was usually easier to get a clear answer out of Hecate than from any of the others. Even practical Nazir was too fond of making his training cryptic. "I mean in other ways. Like how she sleeps every day, and the way she talks sometimes. She doesn't talk like other kids I knew back home." I did some quick mental calculations based on when Hecate first met me and the time of the burning of Falkreath Sanctuary. "And how long has Babette been in the Brotherhood anyway? She's told me stories about her contracts and there are lots of them. How did she get so good with potions?" Hecate cut off my avalanche of questions by picking her book back up and shoving her nose into it.

"You'll have to ask her that," she replied around the paper wall.

"But it's rude to ask siblings about themselves," I reminded her. "Remember how mad you got when Meena told me to ask you and Cicero about making the beast with two backs." I paused; the whole idea of summoning some kind of double-backed monster was just confusing. Was it some sort of Brotherhood ritual only the Listener and Keeper could perform? "I still don't know what that means, but you sure were mad about it."

Hecate sighed and pulled her book up further to cover her eyes. I could tell I had pushed my luck too far and that I wouldn't get anything out of her that day. To try and apologize for pressing her for information, I offered to let her off on one of the rocky islets near my fishing spots. I knew she liked sunbathing, and that coming out fishing with me was mostly out of a sense of responsibility, so letting her out of the boat for a while was a way for me show her I could be responsible for myself.

"If you need anything," she said as she disembarked, "you give me a shout." I nodded soberly before pushing back off, but I couldn't help taking a parting shot as I went.

"I wish Babette could come along at least once," I grumbled as I rowed away. I wasn't surprised that Hecate chose to not respond to my grousing. I spent the rest of the day thinking about Babette and how strange she was. Given that I had spent most of my recent days thinking about Hecate and the unusual feelings she inspired in the lower half of my body, it was a welcome change.

The moment that my suspicion about Babette crystallized into certainty was a few weeks later, on the first day of Sun's Height.

Hecate had been suddenly called away from breakfast by a voice no one else could hear. Her hurried departure from the table left the rest of us staring at her retreating back over our food before quietly resuming. It had happened a few times before, and we all knew what it meant. The Listener had been called by the Night Mother.

As I slowly ate, I wondered if this would wind up being the contract that was my first. Nazir still kept his ear to the ground for potential work for the family, but the Night Mother was the source of our holiest missions. She was our link to Sithis, the Dread Father, who dwelled beyond the world in the eternal Void. She heard the calls of the vengeful, those people who performed the blasphemous and forbidden ritual called the Black Sacrament.

People like me.

I had called on the Night Mother to kill Grelod the Kind, the monster who ran the Honorhall Orphanage in Riften. It had been none other than Hecate herself who had fulfilled that contract and ended Grelod's life, giving me peace and closure that I otherwise could never have obtained. That moment had defined my life ever since, and nothing made me more proud than to be one of the Night Mother's brood, an assassin of the Dark Brotherhood, sworn to dispense judgment on the unworthy.

The only problem was that after almost nine months in the family, I had yet to get my first contract. I had killed Rolff Stone-Fist to prove my worthiness, and I had slain a woman whose name I never knew to overcome my last remaining doubts, but the Night Mother had yet to see fit to call upon me to fulfill my duties. Nazir still thought that I needed more training before going into the field, but in my heart I knew I was ready to begin dispensing justice. Still, Nazir's concern was a practical one, based on his lifetime of experience in the Dark Brotherhood. I disagreed with him, but we both concurred that my field experience would have to begin soon. There was only so much I could learn in Sanctuary, after all.

My bigger concern was Hecate. I worried occasionally that she would keep holding me back from my calling out of some sort of misguided attempt to preserve my youth and innocence, the former of which I didn't want and the latter of which I don't believe I ever possessed. She still saw me as a child instead of a young man, and I feared that it would keep her from letting me go on contracts, even when one might be available for me. If I had wanted to wait to grow up or play it safe, I would have gone back to Honorhall and stayed there until I was sixteen.

Still, they said that the Dread Father rewards patience, so I did my best to not get pushy about it. Every passing day made me more aware of how I was being passed over for missions, though—especially when I thought about how many Babette had seemed to have been on. She wasn't that much older than me, so why did she seem to have so many more stories about kills?

As I finished the last few mouthfuls of my oatmeal, Hecate came striding back into the main room, Cicero in her wake and Babette dragging herself sleepily out of her room. I nearly dropped my spoon in shock; whatever was going on, it had to be pretty important if Hecate had rousted Babette out of bed so soon after she had crawled into it.

"Brothers and sisters," she began as she walked down the stairs to the common room, "the Night Mother has summoned us again." I loved Hecate more than words could say, but occasionally she had a habit of stating the obvious. Meena, Nazir and I were silent, waiting for her to explain before asking any questions. Babette staggered up to the table and sat down next to me, resting her head on her folded arms. Even Cicero seemed pensive as he sat down on the edge of a chair, seeming to sense that this announcement must be different if Hecate saw fit to gather everyone together for it. Would this be the day I got my first contract?

"I must go to the Imperial City for a special contract," she said once we were all sitting together. We all looked at each other in surprise; Hecate had a lot of work as the Listener, but she rarely went out on mission anymore—and never so far away. We were even more shocked at her next words. "Nazir, I wish for you to accompany me."

Cicero sprang to his feet in a flash as though he were a jack in the box.

"Why not loyal Cicero?" he whined, half-reaching toward Hecate. "Hecate always takes Cicero!"

"There's no way we can get down there and back for you to take care of Mother," she said in a far colder voice than I had ever heard her address Cicero with before. "Your duties as Keeper must come first, brother." Cicero's hurt look made my heart surge viciously. It took everything in me to keep the smile from my face, so I spooned another scoop of cold oatmeal into my mouth to cover it. Because of the food in my mouth, I nearly choked when she said, "Babette is in charge while I'm gone."

"What?" I screamed in shock, the spoon dropping out of my mouth and back into the wooden bowl with a wet plonk. I looked over at Babette in disbelief. She didn't look sleepy anymore; instead, she was sitting up and flicking her eyes between Hecate and me. "Why Babette? That doesn't even make sense! She's just a kid like me!" I turned and met Babette's gaze, feeling my pride and anger boil up inside me.

"I don't have to explain myself to you, Aretino!" Hecate snapped. I sat down in utter shock. Hecate had never yelled at me before, and she had certainly never called me by my last name. What had the Night Mother said to her to make her abandon Cicero and be angry at me? Her face softened incrementally as she looked back at Babette. "I'm sure none of you will make it difficult for our sister while I'm gone." As she looked around at the rest of the table, her face went stony again. We all nodded numbly; judging from the others' looks, they were in as much shock as I was.

"Are we leaving right away, Listener?" Nazir asked formally. Hecate nodded.

"Pack your things," she commanded. "We ride out immediately."

The two of them left the main hall together, discussing technical details of their journey as they went. Cicero trailed along behind them, looking like a whipped dog following its master. Meena hissed in disgust at the display and stalked away from the table, leaving me alone with Babette. I turned to look at her distrustfully, my eyes narrowing as I thought of what to say.

"No questions," she said, cutting off my train of thought. "I'm going to get some sleep."

"I don't understand why she put you in charge," I said to her retreating back, careful to not make it a question.

"The wonderful thing about being in charge," she said as she ascended the stairs, "is not having to explain yourself to anyone."

I wasn't sure if she was talking about herself or Hecate, and by the time I gathered my wits enough to make the distinction, she was already gone.

Despite her assertions that she wanted to sleep, Babette stayed awake long enough to see Nazir and Hecate off. The mood was one of somber farewell; the Listener and the Speaker leaving together on a dangerous mission was nothing to be happy about, even if it was the direct order of the Night Mother. Once the two of them had departed, Babette stumbled back to her bedroom and crawled under the blankets without a word to me.

I stayed up the rest of the day, putting in double my usual practice time with Cicero. With Hecate out of Sanctuary Cicero was more nervous and fluttery, more like he had been before his illness at the beginning of the year, but strangely enough, I found that it was easier to get along with him. We ran through the practice stances for almost two hours, and I might have gone longer if Meena had been around to switch off with Cicero. Instead, the Khajiit had apparently left Sanctuary too, probably to go off looking for trouble in Dawnstar. She would come back when she was good and ready, I supposed.

As Cicero and I sparred, both of us stripped to the waist, I couldn't help but compare us physically. The jester was in amazingly good shape for his age, trim and lithely muscular with only the slightest hint of a belly. After nine months in the Dark Brotherhood, thanks to Nazir's good cooking and my constant training, I had begun to fill out remarkably well. I wasn't the short, scrawny orphan I had been when I came to Dawnstar anymore. I had grown almost three inches and filled out to a respectable weight. I had just started my growth spurt too; Nazir and Hecate had both commented that I might wind up almost as tall as a Nord.

Now, comparing myself to the Keeper, I thought that I might even be stronger than he was. Every time he flicked his wooden dowel under my defense and gleefully declared "Dead!" reminded me that I still wasn't faster, though. He had decades of experience that I lacked. Which was one of the reasons Hecate loved him so much, I was sure. My resentment drove me to fight harder when we sparred, but I had yet to ever land a blow on Cicero in one of our matches. At least I was making him work harder for his victories.

My muscles weren't the only thing that had improved in my time with the Brotherhood; my mind had developed too. Because of Meena's lessons in stealth and infiltration, I was far better at noticing little details that I would have overlooked before. Whenever we had taken meals together lately, I kept a close eye on Babette. What had been a suspicion weeks before had turned into a near-certainty once I really started looking for it.

Babette didn't eat. At the very least, she never ate when I was around, and we spent a fair amount of time together. Some nights, she would join us for dinner but she would never eat anything—just move the food around on her plate and finally throw her napkin over the uneaten meal before taking her dishes back to the kitchen. I had caught Nazir glaring at her over dinner a few times, and now I was sure that it was out of annoyance for wasting food.

That night, we all ate together in the main hall, feasting on reheated food that Nazir had prepared before he left and stuck in the cold chamber of the kitchen. As was my habit, I kept an eye on Babette; while she sat with us for the meal, she didn't even take the pretense of eating anything. I wondered if she had just forgotten to keep up the act because she hadn't slept much. Finally, I couldn't keep it to myself anymore.

"Aren't you hungry?" I asked her while Cicero and Meena chatted together at the other end of the table. "You didn't get anything to eat." She looked down at the table dumbly then back at me with bleary eyes.

"Just not hungry," she said, stifling a yawn with one hand. "I'll get something later."

"Really?" I asked. Normally I wouldn't have been so pushy about it, but Hecate putting her in charge had set my teeth on edge. "I could go and get you something from the kitchen. I really don't mind." I half-stood like I was going to go, and Babette quickly snaked out her hand to grab my arm. She was shockingly strong.

"No!" she insisted. "I can take care of myself. Hecate even trusts me to run Sanctuary while she's gone. I don't need you pushing food down my throat." She let go of my forearm and I rubbed the place she had grabbed.

"Strong grip," I commented, and let it drop as I gathered the dirty dishes to take them away. I could feel Babette glaring at my back as I walked off, and I pretended to not care. If she was going to hide things from me, then I didn't owe her any explanations either.

My guilt over thinking she was a liar was over and done with. Babette was lying to me about something. I just needed to figure out what it was. I had some suspicions, but I wasn't sure whether or not to confront her about them yet. With Hecate and Nazir gone, it was the perfect time to talk to Babette without interference. On the other hand, if Babette got angry about it, there was no one to tell her no. There was another concern too, maybe an even bigger one.

I didn't want to change the way things were with Babette.

In almost every other part of my life, I couldn't wait for things to happen. I wanted to finish growing up, get my first contract, show up Cicero, make Hecate see me as a grown man—all as fast as possible. But when it came to Babette, I couldn't bear the thought of changing things between us. That was why I resented her being in charge so much. It wasn't just that she was my age—in fact, I realized with a horrible shock, if my suspicions were correct then she might be much older than me—but that her being in charge made us not equals anymore.

I also didn't like people lying to me. It felt too much like being treated like a child. And if Babette was going to treat me like a child, then I just didn't want to be around her.

And that was pretty much the way things went for a week, until the food Nazir had left behind for us ran out. After that, things were much worse.

"I'm hungry," I complained in my whiniest voice. "When is dinner?"

Babette sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. She put down the papers she had been looking over and glared at me. It might have been frightening coming from an adult, but Babette's face was too pinched up in annoyance to be truly scary. I had been harassing her about food and food-related topic for a week, and her usual cool disdain was starting to wear thin.

"Heat something up!" she snapped, nearly knocking the papers off the table with a frustrated swipe of her hand.

"There's nothing left from the stuff Nazir made before he left," I snapped back. Her eyes seemed to flare in the glow from the lanterns, and this time I was too observant to play it off as a trick of the light. I was getting closer to the truth every time Babette's control slipped.

"Surely you can manage to put a piece of meat between two pieces of bread, dear brother," she hissed as formally as she could manage. It's kind of funny how "dear brother" sounded an awful lot like "you little shit" when she said it that way. I felt my back stiffen up in response to her condescension, and it might have turned into a real shouting match if Cicero hadn't picked that moment to come wandering back in.

The jester was filthy, covered head to toe in dust and grime. Ever since Hecate had left, his new hobby had been exploring forgotten sections of the tunnels leading into and out of Dawnstar Sanctuary. It was yet another thing for me to be irritated about, since Hecate had made it expressly clear she didn't want me to go past the barricades that led into the natural caverns beyond the inhabited areas. Cicero apparently didn't feel any such compunction, and it had become common for him to come dragging into the main hall just before dinner covered in different kinds of dirt and muck. Once, he had shown up wearing only his smallclothes and soaking wet, babbling about a lost underground kingdom and a mile-high waterfall.

I never got to do anything interesting.

I was so busy glaring at Babette that I barely noticed Cicero's entrance, except to stop fighting with her. Even with my occasional resentment of Cicero, I was trying very hard to stick to my promise to not send him into a fit or a spell or whatever they were. Despite everything, I still cared about the damned fool; more than that, though, with Hecate gone I had no idea how we would calm him down again if he went off the deep end.

Being annoyed with Babette and trying to not let it spill over to Cicero had me so distracted that I didn't see that he was holding one hand behind his back until he whipped it around and thrust a venomous tunnel snake into my face.

"Look what Cicero found!" he said in a gleefully singsong voice. I went sprawling away from him, knocking my chair out from under me as he waggled the deadly serpent in my face.

"By Sithis, Cicero!" I screamed. I couldn't stand how shrill my own voice sounded, but I was genuinely terrified. "What the hell are you thinking?"

"Language!" Babette scolded without looking up from the papers. I looked over at her incredulously and tripped over the chair I had pushed away. She was seriously going to worry about my language when Cicero was threatening me with a viper? She continued primly, "Aventus, you should not use such crude dialogue."

"Cicero has a gods-damned snake, and I'm the one being yelled at?" I shouted at her, unable to keep my frustration inside any longer. Cicero giggled and danced toward me with the snake held out. I jumped back, scrabbling on my hands and feet to get away from the animal. I couldn't help but throw another verbal jab, even while I was being harassed with a poisonous creature. "Besides, Hecate said I could say whatever I damned well pleased!"

After Babette had scolded me about my language after New Life Day, I had made it a point to ask the Listener what her boundaries were about that sort of thing. To my surprise, she didn't seem to care at all. Divines knew Hecate could curse like a sailor when she put her mind to it.

"The Listener is not here!" she offered imperiously. I had wondered how long it would take her to pull rank about something important. Apparently, the answer was "about a week." She stood up from the table and stalked toward me, her hands tightened into small fists. "I am here, and I am in charge. And I say you may not talk that way!" She stopped, standing over me and visibly forced herself to calm down. Her voice was softer when she continued, but still firm and demanding. "If you wish, you may resume when the Listener returns. In the meantime, you are to have a civil tongue."

Cicero tittered again, though whether at his new prized pet or my predicament I wasn't sure. The noise drew Babette's attention and she wheeled on him like she was a striking serpent herself.

"As for you, Keeper," she said low and angrily, "that is not appropriate for the dining area. Please dispose of it immediately."

Cicero shrugged as though it meant nothing to him either way, then tossed the wriggling snake casually over one shoulder. I prepared myself to jump up and run from the thing if it came my way again, but the snake suddenly dropped into two bloody pieces. Between the falling chunks of snake strode in Meena, blood gleaming wetly on her claws. I hadn't even seen the strike that separated the serpent.

"What is there to eat?" she asked, sniffing the air and licking snake blood off of her paw. "Meena does not smell anything good."

Babette's hand jerked up spasmodically and she slapped herself in the forehead as though to knock the anger out of her skull. I couldn't help but smile at her expression of total frustration.

"All of you are more than capable of making something to eat on your own. You are more than welcome to help yourselves," she growled as she stalked back to the table and shuffled through the papers. "I think I finally figured out Nazir's code at least. I will give out contracts after you three eat."

My heart surged. Contracts! I would finally get to exercise my blade! Before I could get too excited, Meena sat at the table and leaned forward, resting her chin on one paw as she looked at Babette. Her tail swished back and forth dangerously as she spoke.

"Contracts?" she purred with an amused voice. "And who does the little one think is going to go out?"

"Are you suggesting that you would disobey a direct order from a superior, Khajiit?" Babette snarled back.

I didn't like the monster that power had seemed to bring out in my friend. She had always had a sort of cruel streak, but I just chalked it up to being an assassin. The way she had been acting since Hecate and Nazir left was nothing short of vicious. I hadn't been making it as easy for her as I could have, maybe—but I was fed up with her lies, and I didn't like the feeling of being pushed around.

"Never," Meena replied innocently, holding her paws wide as though to deflect Babette's anger. "Meena loves contracts!" She leaned in suddenly, like a cat going in for the kill. "But who else is going?"

Babette paused, the anger running off her face like water from a mountain stream. Hecate had made it very clear that she was responsible for the rest of us, so I couldn't imagine her giving that up by taking a contract herself.

"Cicero can take a few contracts," she finally responded. "His blade is still active."

"Oh, no!" Cicero interjected sadly. "Oh my, no! Loyal Cicero may only go on contract with lovely, dear Hecate. The Listener said that Cicero could only kill with her." Babette rubbed the bridge of her nose again; it looked like her headache was getting worse.

"Fine, then! Aventus can finally take a contract!" she shouted with a contemptuous gesture my way.

"But the Listener said I had to wait until she said I was ready," I pointed out. Even as I said it, I wondered what in the name of Sithis I was doing. I didn't want anything more than taking a contract, and I was refusing one when it was basically thrown in my lap? My traitor mouth just kept working against me, though. "She said I had to have backup too, at least for my first one. And then depending on how well I do, I might be able to go out alone."

Everything I said was literally from Hecate's mouth, but I had complained about it more than once. I was ready! Why had I said all that to Babette?

"You mean to tell me that, out of all of us, only Meena can go on contract?" Babette asked with a crestfallen look. Meena nodded with a broad smile, while Cicero's answering nod was solemn and almost melancholy."Lovely…"

The look on Babette's face made me understand. I had gotten so used to being contrary that it had become second nature. She wanted me to go on contract, so that's the thing I would refuse to do. With a chagrined feeling, I realized that I had just cut off my own nose to spite my face.

"We still haven't done anything about dinner," I complained, hoping to take my mind off my stupidity by focusing on the immediate needs of my belly. "I'm hungry!"

"Cicero is hungry too!" the Keeper added. Meena yowled shrilly to accompany our clamoring. Babette's face twisted angrily as we kept up our whining, until she finally jumped up out of her chair and onto the top of the table. She stomped her tiny foot on the surface of it, scattering papers and spilling an inkwell onto the ground.

"Enough of that!" she shouted. "There is no reason the lot of you cannot act like adults!" Her Breton accent thickened in her frustration, making her words sound both extended and clipped at the end.

"I'm not an adult," I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, it is time you started acting like one," she responded primly, smoothing her skirts and bringing her voice under control. "My mentor used to say, 'Remember that there is always someone out to get your blood.' It is very sound advice—and the sooner you learn that, the better off you will be, my young brother." She finally seemed to realize that she was standing on a table and hopped down, her skirts fluttering around her ankles as she touched down on the floor.

I smiled in satisfaction. She had finally let slip that she was older than me! I had been trying to get her angry enough to let more of who she really was slip through, and this just went toward confirming my suspicions. Now that I had seen her at her angriest, seen the mask slip slightly, I had almost all the information I needed.

"To show my good will," she said with false cheer, "I will treat the lot of you to dinner in Dawnstar. Do not get used to it. You better be ready tomorrow to feed yourselves."

With a flourish, she turned and walked toward the Black Door. If I had any money, I would have bet that she wouldn't be eating with us in Dawnstar. I was finally ready to confront Babette about the dark truth. I finally knew what she really was.

Sun's Height crawled into Last Seed with no sign or word from Hecate and Nazir. We dragged ourselves through the monotony of daily life without our leadership, eating cold cuts and other food that could be served without much in the way of preparation. After Babette's one show of generosity, forced as it was, the rest of us had provided for ourselves as best we could. Cicero's one attempt at cooking a meal ended in a fire, and Meena couldn't be moved to do anything for others on her best day.

Strangely enough, I think I fared well under these conditions. It was still better than living alone in Windhelm, or my time at Honorhall. I fished a lot and cooked what I caught, only delving into the sparse supplies from Dawnstar whenever I felt like adding some variety to my diet.

Cicero was keeping himself busy whenever possible, but by the end of the first month with no messages from our wayward members he was starting to suffer. I could sometimes hear him weeping in his room, and he would sometimes cancel our practice sessions abruptly with no warning. My ire at the jester for his pranks and his closeness with Hecate started to bleed away in the face of his increasing instability. I couldn't hold onto my anger when he seemed so pathetic and lost.

Meena was rarely at home over the course of the month. She was bloodthirsty and cruel, but those were good attributes for an energetic assassin—if less so for a sibling. She kept herself busy with Babette's contracts and was in a decently good mood whenever I saw her. In fact, I would say that her mood improved with every passing day that we didn't hear from Hecate and Nazir. That was worrisome. I didn't know what it meant exactly, but I had known Meena long enough to know that she was at her most dangerous when she seemed happiest.

Babette kept to her normal schedule, awake during the night and sleeping every day. If I was right about my suspicions, that made a lot more sense than it used to. We were still angry at one another, barely speaking in fact, and it was starting to become painful to me. I didn't know how she felt about it, but I couldn't stand being angry at my best friend anymore. I also couldn't stand being lied to. Both were equally unpleasant options as far as I was concerned.

I had originally hoped that Hecate could resolve our differences when she got back from her mission. The longer it took, the more worried I became that she might not come back at all—or that, even if she did, it would be too late to fix things. I had been locked into paralysis by not wanting to change things with Babette, but my own resentment and her vicious response to it was changing things on its own. It had taken a month of anger and hard feelings to make me realize it, but somewhere along the way I had finally figured out that I couldn't let things go on like this.

I loved Babette too much for us to wind up hating each other. Even if we were only adopted siblings, she was still my sister, and I would love her no matter what the truth was. Once I came to that realization, I understood how stupid it had been to be mad at her for lying about what she really was. I could understand the value in wearing a mask around people to avoid scaring them; I had done it myself, back in Windhelm. The only thing I could do to save our friendship now was the thing I feared most.

I had to let Babette know I had figured out the truth. I had to confront her.

One night, after Cicero had retreated to his room and Meena was out on contract, I found Babette at her alchemy lab. She was usually in there after dark if she wasn't going through Nazir's notes. Pavot was curled up next to her feet, his shaggy white-furred body beginning to show the signs of transition from cub to full-grown wolf. As I had predicted months before, he was starting to show definite signs of becoming pudgy. It wasn't just me or Babette that had been hurt by our arguing; Pavot hadn't been getting nearly enough exercise since I had stopped taking him out with me. That was another thing I would have to correct.

I waited in the doorway for Babette to acknowledge me, but she was still giving me the cold shoulder. I knew she was observant enough to realize I was there, so after a few minutes I cleared my throat to let her know I wasn't going anywhere. She sighed heavily and put down her mortar and pestle.

"What is it?" she asked without looking at me.

"Babette… can I talk with you?" I asked. I looked down the stone hallway toward Cicero's room and had a terrible moment where I imagined him stumbling out and interrupting at the worst possible moment. "Privately?" I added.

"Of course, my dear Aventus," she said with a tight-lipped smile as she finally turned to face me. "We can go outside."

As she put away her things and joined me at the Black Door, I wondered if I would have the courage to go through with this. Outside, the twin moons were high in the sky, bright and full. The night was warm and humid, and the air was full of the sound of the tide changing. Without thinking about it, I took the lead and walked toward the shore. When the sea was in sight, I felt Babette's hand slip into mine; her skin was cold in contrast to the warm night air. Once we had reached the high tide line, I turned to Babette and took a deep breath. Her tiny, pale face was turned up toward mine, and I suddenly realized how much taller than her I had become.

"Babette…" I began.

"Yes, Aventus?" she asked breathily.

"I know what you are!" I blurted out. Her eyes widened and she took a half-step away from me as I cursed myself for a fool. By the Divines, what was wrong with me? Why was it that every time I tried to talk to someone who was important to me, I wound up sounding like I had been dropped on my head as a baby? I sighed and tried to compose myself. I should have talked to Cicero before confronting Babette; he might have been a fool, but he had a way with words.

"What would that be, dear brother?" Babette asked, quirking up one eyebrow. At least she wasn't trying to deny it; that was a good sign as far as I was concerned.

"You never go out during the day, you don't eat, you talk funny, and your hands are always cold," I stammered, trying to buy time to collect my thoughts.

"Go on," she urged, stepping closer to me again. Her eyes glinted coldly in the moonlight and her hands tightened around mine. "Say it. Say what I am."

I steeled myself and took a deep breath, then locked eyes with her.

"You're…" I gulped heavily and calmed my nerves. "You're a construct."

"What." It wasn't precisely a question, though Babette's tone was one of disbelief. She had always claimed that I wasn't that bright, but now that I had discerned the truth, she was shocked! I pushed on through my reasoning before she could interrupt and try to cover it up again.

"You're one of those constructs from the Dwemer ruins," I continued. "I heard they have really good sentinels and they still run even though the dwarves are long dead. I figured out you must be one of those. Probably a special model, since you're a little girl instead of a spider or a sphere or something." I smiled broadly. "It explains everything, even why you sleep during the day. You're recharging!"

I waited for her to refute my flawless logic or to admit everything. I had expected any number of possible reactions. I thought she might even cry, though I was privately hoping she would be proud and happy that I had figured it all out on my own.

I certainly hadn't expected her to burst out laughing.

Babette let go of my hands and stumbled backwards, dropping to the ground as though her legs had given out. At first I thought she might be stunned or even in pain, but then she doubled up and started howling laughter, clutching her sides and rolling back and forth in the sand. She kicked her legs and tears streamed down her face as she whooped and screamed with laughter. Cicero couldn't have put on a better performance himself.

"By Sithis!" she declared when she was finally able to catch her breath. She sat up and brushed tears from her face with a grimy hand, leaving behind trails of damp sand. "You thought I was a sentinel? Aventus, have you ever even seen a Dwemer construct?"

"No," I said defensively, feeling my face beginning to turn read. "Hecate told me about them a while back. I thought she was trying to give me clues…" Babette shook her head and stood up, her face cheery and bright in the moonlight.

"I promise you that I am no construct," she said, wiping her cheek with one sleeve. "But that was sweet of you to think so."

She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek before turning and walking back toward Sanctuary, her skirts swirling around her ankles like the churning tide. I could hear her chuckling to herself as she went, leaving me standing in the wet sand like a floundering horker. I was angry again, but mostly at myself for being so stupid.

Still, I couldn't help but think that Babette could be a real bitch sometimes.

…to be continued…