Dagnell couldn’t move. She could still breathe, very shallowly, but she couldn’t move any of her limbs or her head, nor could she roll. She was wholly, horribly paralyzed.
She could still see, though, and what she saw was Mercer, moving forward into the great cavernous room. There was a slight woman on the top step of what seemed to be room-wide platform steps. There was only one person it could possibly be. She had her bow drawn and was aiming for Mercer.
I have to stop her, Dag thought. She can’t kill Mercer. I have to stop her if for no other reason than for the sake of all those people back in Riften who need Mercer to be alive. They can’t lose yet another Guildmaster, not now. But struggle though she might, she could not so much as feel her arms and legs, much less move them. He would have to save her, again. So much for being useful to him.
Mercer stopped short of the lowest platform and shook his head, then began speaking.
“Did you honestly think your arrow will reach me before my blade finds your heart?”
“Give me a reason to try,” said the woman. Her voice was soft, accented. A Dunmer. Definitely Karliah.
“You’re a clever girl, Karliah. Buying Goldenglow Estate and funding Honningbrew Meadery was inspired.”
“’To ensure an enemy’s defeat, you must first undermine his allies.’ It was the first lesson Gallus taught us.”
She sounds sure of herself, Dag thought. Well it certainly was a good lesson, but we still managed to catch you at it, didn’t we. I had a big part in that, and if I can only move my gods-damned legs I’ll help catch you again.
“You always were a quick study,” Mercer said.
“Not quick enough, otherwise Gallus would still be alive.”
Dag’s mind whirled. Wait. What? She hadn’t been quick enough or Gallus would still be alive? But … she killed Gallus. Brynjolf said so, everyone else said so. Mercer said so. Karliah’s statement made no sense, no sense at all, unless Mercer had been the one…
Mercer’s voice took on the tone it had had when he was talking about Karliah being his partner in crime. Slightly softer, almost but not quite a plea.
“Gallus had his wealth and he had you. All he had to do was look the other way.”
Dag’s mind screeched again. “Gallus had you?” Was Mercer — jealous of Gallus? Had he wanted Karliah for himself? Could it be? He certainly had cared for her, that was clear, and he had said so himself, but this put a different light on the whole situation.
Karliah spoke again. She sounded outraged. “Did you forget the oath we took as Nightingales? Did you expect him to simply ignore your methods?”
Mercer had said something about a nightingale in connection with Gallus, Dag thought, but she only had a moment to try to remember it when Mercer shouted.
“Enough of this mindless banter! Come, Karliah. It’s time for you and Gallus to become reunited!”
As he had done when addressing Brynjolf, the very first time she had met him, Mercer put emphasis on her name, an audible sneer, placing her somehow as a lesser being. It sounded like hatred. He drew his life-draining sword and moved toward her.
We’re supposed to be killing her. I should be happy, Dag thought. But this is wrong. I need to figure it out. I need to stop this. But I can’t move.
Karliah had shifted almost out of Dag’s field of vision, but there was a motion that looked vaguely familiar. Then Karliah completely disappeared. A moment later she spoke, but from where was impossible to tell.
“I’m no fool, Mercer. Crossing blades with you would be a death sentence. But I can promise you the next time we meet, it will be your undoing.”
I can’t believe it, Dag thought, struggling vainly to move any part of herself. He killed Gallus. It wasn’t Karliah, it was Mercer. He’s been lying to everyone for twenty-five years. He killed the Guildmaster and took that power for himself. Because… what had he said outside? Greed? Jealousy? Spite? Maybe all of those.
Mercer was sauntering toward her, casually swinging that deadly sword.
So it was true, then. It was Skeever-Face all along. Her sense of unease around him had been entirely justified. She was as good at sizing up her mark as Brynjolf; maybe better, since Brynjolf had trusted Mercer implicitly and had been completely fooled. She’d only been fooled briefly, and it was because he seemed so earnest when he talked about…
Oh just wait until I tell you about this, Red. I am going to rub this in so hard and have a great laugh. If I can just move.
Mercer loomed over her and sneered.
“How interesting. It appears Gallus’s history has repeated itself. Karliah has provided me with the means to be rid of you, and this ancient tomb becomes your final resting place.”
Dagnell felt truly afraid for the first time. He’s admitted it, he killed Gallus. And he really intends to kill me. Of course he does, idiot; he can’t very well let you go, knowing what you know, can he? No, he can’t. Nobody will ever take Karliah’s word over his, she thought, not after twenty-five years of a false story, unless I’m there to back her up, and maybe not even then. Some of the thieves had literally spent their entire lives hearing that story. I’m going to die, she thought. I’m going to die right now and it makes me so damnably mad that I can’t at least put an arrow into his damnable skeever face before I go.
Mercer sneered. “But do you know what intrigues me the most? The fact that this was all possible because of you. Farewell.” He paused for just the slightest of moments, then added: “I’ll be certain to give Brynjolf your regards.”
The world stopped.
Her chest constricted with a stab of indescribable, searing emotion as she realized what he had just said. Brynjolf? He was going to tell Brynjolf what? That she was dead? That Karliah had killed her? That she had just up and left? That look across the Cistern, that confused, distressing, silent exchange, that ugly moment was going to be the last time she ever saw him? No, no, no! Brynjolf was insufferable, he was unscrupulous, people might even consider him evil for the way he made his living, but he was her friend, he mattered, she cared about him and he didn’t deserve to be told another set of ugly lies by this monstrous man. She couldn’t bear it. She felt tears of pure anger streaming down her face, with no way to control them or any other part of herself.
Mercer stood, leering at her, for just a moment, drawing out the pain of the moment, before driving the life-draining dwarven sword through her chest. She wanted to scream at the agony but had no way to form the sounds; and then everything went black.
______________
Dagnell’s eyes opened, a bit at a time. She couldn’t focus, yet; it was incredibly bright. Outside. She was outside, and she could feel air on her face and… she could move.
She could move.
She was alive.
She scrambled up to a sitting position, then stood, then clutched at her knees for support as dizziness threatened to topple her.
“Take it easy,” she heard. “Don’t stand up so quickly. I’ve cured you but it was a bit touch and go.”
Dag blinked until her vision came back into focus. It was Karliah. They were next to the fire at the campsite she’d set up on the way in.
“You shot me!”
“No, I saved your life. I shot you with a unique paralytic poison that slowed your heart and kept you from bleeding out. If I had intended to kill you we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
It might be true, Dag thought. After all, she’d been stabbed by a massive, enchanted, life-draining dwarven sword and should, by rights, have died right then and there. But it didn’t make sense.
“Why should I believe you?”
“The antidote I administered kept you alive. I didn’t leave you defenseless in the ruin.”
Dag pondered. That was true, too. But her head hurt, and she felt queasy, and it was hard to process her thoughts at the moment. She looked more closely at Karliah. She was as pretty a Dunmer woman as Dag had ever seen. Lovely, in fact. She seemed quite young, but Dunmer lived so long that “young” could mean anything at all. More importantly, she didn’t look threatening, or seem to be hiding anything. Not at all.
“But why didn’t you shoot Mercer? He was right there!”
Karliah frowned. “Believe me, the thought crossed my mind. My original intention was to use it on Mercer but I never had a clear shot and I only had enough poison for one dose. I made a split-second decision to get you out of the way.”
“By all the gods,” Dag growled. “’You’re leading, and I’m following.’ That’s what he told me. He was using me as a shield! He said he knew your methods better than anyone and he did, and he knew you would be prepared with a poison arrow.” She stomped her foot. “I’m going to kill him. I don’t know when or where or how but I am going to kill him, and I am going to enjoy every single second of the experience.”
Karliah just looked at her, seemingly emotionless. Or perhaps it was that she knew the emotion altogether too well, already.
Dag suddenly felt near-panic rising up in her chest. It was Mercer all along, but nobody else knew that.
“We have to get back, Karliah. We have to tell them. We have to get back to Riften before he does.” She turned, as though to leave, but felt her legs going out from under her and sank to the bedroll in Karliah’s tent. Well damn.
Karliah squatted down beside her. “Rest a moment. This will pass.”
Dag took a deep breath and blew it out, trying to calm herself. She looked at Karliah. She needed to know something, anything, which would lend some sense to the whole sorry affair. “Tell me about Gallus. Please. I need to know what the truth is.”
Karliah sat beside her on the bedroll, cross-legged, and began to speak. Slowly the story unfolded. It wasn’t all that different than the story Mercer had shared, as far as his had gone. Gallus, she said, was a brilliant scholar, a natural born leader, and a thief like no other.
“We were… very close.”
Oh that tone of voice, Dag thought. I would talk about Roggi just like that. “You were lovers,” she said.
Karliah nodded. It was a mistake, she said. It clouded her judgment, and his. He let his guard down around her, said he felt comfortable with her. Neither one of them saw what Mercer was up to until it was too late, and she couldn’t help but think that it was all her fault. Her eyes were far away, lonely, desperately sad, and Dag’s heart was breaking looking at them. It can’t have been your fault, Karliah, she thought. There’s no fault to be assigned for being in love. It just…is. It wasn’t your fault that Mercer decided to do this terrible thing.
Karliah wanted revenge though, she told Dag, and she wanted her name cleared with the Guild. They deserved the truth. Dag heard deep pain and regret in Karliah’s quiet voice, and a confirmation all of the positive things people had related about Gallus.
“So let me ask you this, Karliah. You had this special poison that wouldn’t kill, but would paralyze. You weren’t intending it for me; you didn’t know about me. It was meant for Mercer. Why would you have wanted to keep him alive?”
She looked Dag in the eye. There it was, there was the hatred.
“I want him to feel the cold sting of fate as his life crumbles, as he is hunted by the Guild.”
It’s true, Dag thought. I heard it from Mercer’s own lips. The Guild takes care of its own, in one way or another. They would hunt him down, and if necessary they would recruit the Dark Brotherhood to help them. She was sure of it.
“How are we going to convince the Guild about this, Karliah? If we go back now, without any proof, they’ll kill you, and they’ll kill me just for being with you. Even if Mercer hasn’t gotten to them yet.”
And that was a horrid prospect to consider, Dag thought. I might never get into my home safely again if Mercer is already there. He’ll have people waiting for me if he finds out I’m not dead. This is going to be the only thing we have going for us for some time; he knows Karliah is still alive, but he thinks he’s killed me.
Karliah nodded. “I didn’t just pick Snow Veil Sanctum for the sake of irony. Before you two arrived, I located Gallus’ journal on his remains.”
“That’s perfect! What does it say?”
“I wish I knew. It’s in a language I don’t recognize and can’t read.”
“Can’t it be translated?”
Karliah’s eyes brightened. “Of course! Maybe Enthir can do it!”
Enthir, she said, was an accomplished mage at the College in Winterhold, and one of Gallus’ closest friends. Enthir was the only person outside the Guild that Gallus trusted with his identity as a Nightingale.
“What is this Nightingale thing? I’ve heard it several times and I have no idea what it means.”
Karliah shook her head. “We were an anonymous splinter group of the Thieves Guild in Riften: me, Gallus, and Mercer. Perhaps I will tell you about it someday but right now what is most important is that we get this journal translated. Get to Winterhold right away but speak only with Enthir. I’ll join you after I’ve laid Gallus’ remains to rest.”
Dag stood. Good, her legs felt much steadier now. She nodded. “I’ll be off then. I’ll catch a carriage from Windhelm. I’m not sure I can handle a long trek in the cold quite yet.”
Karliah nodded, and smiled. “Eyes open, and walk with the shadows.”