She wouldn’t stop talking.
Serana started talking as soon as she stepped out of her stone prison and never stopped. It wasn’t that everything she said was pointless; in fact most of it was very useful information. It was that she whined, and the sound of her voice grated on him. Worse, the gnawing hunger that he’d felt growing slowly, for days, was starting to make itself heard again. He’d been aware of it for some time, but hearing the vampire in the barrow speak of her own hunger had focused his mind on it, and his mind now refused to let go of that awareness. He found his hand drifting toward the pocket in which he knew there were several of the small, expensive bottles; but Brynjolf saw the movement as well and shook his head. Andante sighed, and tried to divert his attention back to Serana, who was still whining.
It was too stuffy in the cavern. She didn’t recognize the place any longer. She didn’t know anything about the Empire, the one that had existed for hundreds of years. She wanted to know whether Andante really knew what he was doing. She had expected a vampire to come get her.
Apparently she’s been underground so long that she can’t look at Brynjolf’s eyes and recognize a vampire when she sees one. Idiot.
He found himself snarling, when he turned to face away from her. He was trying desperately to calm himself, but he was snarling. She interrupted us. We were doing something exciting. Together. And now there is this…
He heard Brynjolf ask her why she’d been locked away, and heard her answer.
“That’s … complicated. And I’m not sure I can trust you. If you want to know the whole story, help me get back to my family’s home.”
Andante sighed, composed his face, and turned to face her. We came here to find what they were looking for and we found it. I need to behave and find out what’s next.
“And where, pray tell, might this home be?”
“My family used to live on an island to the west of Solitude. I would guess that they still do.”
By the Eight.
“In a castle, perhaps? Volkihar?”
She nodded. “Yes, you know of it? Help me get back there.”
Andante glanced at Brynjolf and grinned, trying to keep his face as composed as possible. Brynjolf grinned back, clearly understanding how exciting this news was.
“By all means. Let’s be on our way.”
This is better than I could possibly have hoped for. She’s going to lead me right to it. And into it. And potentially…
“Your father is called Harkon?”
She nodded, slowly. “I don’t know how you know of that name but yes. He’s… not a particularly good person. But we can talk about him more on the way. Let’s just get out of here. You do know where you’re going, right?”
Andante plastered a smile on his face and gritted his teeth, then nodded and looked around. No, I really don’t. Not until we’re out of here, at least. There was a stairway flanked by gargoyles on the far side of the cavern from where they’d entered, and he made for it.
He was about halfway across the central island when he stumbled. His vision went red for a moment.
Brynjolf was at his side instantly, reaching out a hand to steady him.
“Are you alright, lad?”
Andante reached up to wipe a hand across his own brow and laughed. His skin was hot.
Doesn’t that beat all. I wonder when this happened?
“It seems that I must have gotten a little close to one of those fine ladies back in the barrows.”
“What are you saying?”
“Feel my forehead. I’m saying that regardless of what happens between now and then, my time as a human is going to be limited to about three more days. You were right. It’s only temporary. Sanguinare Vampiris.”
Brynjolf felt his forehead and nodded. “Well that’s just fine, isn’t it. Do you need me to do the deed right now, lad? Because I will if you want.”
The memory of Brynjolf’s fangs penetrating his neck sent a shiver of delight up his spine. Oh gods yes I do. But …
“Not yet, Brynjolf,” he whispered next to his ear. “I need to wait and see what her father is all about. Unless I miss my guess he’s going to be very happy we’ve rescued his daughter and he’s going to give me something I very much want to have.”
“Oh? And that would be…”
Andante smiled at him.
“More power, loverboy. A great deal more power.” And then you and I are going to wreak havoc the likes of which has seldom been seen in this world.
Brynjolf nodded. “Just let me know.”
Andante didn’t have time to say anything else, for the gargoyles on either side of the stairs suddenly surged into life. He stumbled back a couple of steps, shocked, but then pulled his axe and ran into the battle. Brynjolf was shouting and slashing, he himself was swinging his axe as fast as he could and, much to his surprise, Serana had reanimated a skeleton with a beefy swing, and was casting one of the most powerful frost cloud spells he’d ever seen. There was no question that she was an ancient vampire and a formidable one.
Best remember not to step into that. I’m still human. By the gods, she’s good.
Once they had dropped the gargoyles, they found a doorway leading out of the massive main chamber. Andante heard Serana speaking behind him.
“This feels like the right way. I was starting to worry.”
He gritted his teeth. I wasn’t lost, Serana, I’ve never been here before. I was just looking for the door. It’s not as though I didn’t know it was here somewhere. He took a deep breath and forced himself to be as pleasant as he could.
“From what I just saw, Serana, you don’t have much to worry about. Take that as a compliment. It’s meant as one.”
It took him much longer than he would have liked to find a lever that raised the iron gate to the exit. It shouldn’t have taken him long at all. The lever was large, and easy to spot even in the very dark space they were in; but he was feeling more and more ill by the moment and missed seeing it on his first pass through the room. Better yet, when he threw the switch the several draugr – one of them a Deathlord with an evil laugh and a strong Shout – woke from their slumbers and moved against them. Andante was happy that there were three of them and the reanimated skeleton to take them down. He heard Serana shouting “Back to dust!” at one of them as she dropped it.
He had hoped the gate led out of the complex, but instead it led into a huge, dank amphitheater filled with more draugr and skeletons, and one terrifying Death Overlord that laughed at them as they attempted to finish it. They fought, and fought, and Andante could feel himself flagging from illness and general fatigue. He steered clear of the Overlord because he knew it was not in him, in his weakened state, to take the beast down.
“Here we go, let’s get the blood flowing again,” he heard Serana shout from behind him as he hacked at one of the skeletons. He couldn’t help but smirk.
Get the blood flowing again? Seriously? And I thought I had a bad sense of humor.
It seemed as though an eternity had passed by the time they stepped through a narrow opening into the air. After so long in the dark the light, even to Andante’s human eyes, was nearly excruciating, and he cringed and shielded them with his hand. Serana pulled her hood up close around her face, but then stretched and smiled.
“So good to breathe again. Even in this weather, it’s better than the cave.”
Brynjolf nodded. “Aye. Even with the brightness, I prefer this.”
Andante took a moment to get his bearings.
“We’re going to Morthal.”
“What? Why?” Brynjolf asked.
“Because I am tired. And I don’t feel well. And because it’s a long way yet to where we’re going. I don’t think I have it in me even to make it to my house in Solitude.”
Brynjolf turned to stare at him, open-mouthed.
“You have a house in Solitude?”
Andante chuckled. “Yes, Bryn. I have a house in Solitude. I did favors for Jarls, before I met you, and as a result there is a very lovely mansion in Solitude with my name on it. I don’t know how to say it modestly but I am a very wealthy man, my dear.”
“And you still stay in Honeyside? And do small jobs for the Guild?”
“Yes. Even though I know it’s really your home. It’s more comfortable to me. I don’t know why.” Except that I do know why. I love the place because it has you in it, even when you’re not physically there. “But that’s neither here nor there. We make for Morthal.”
Even worse than feeling ill from Sanguinaire Vampiris, familiar though he was with the disease, was feeling the gnawing hunger that came with wanting skooma. He’d been putting it to the back of his mind as best he could since the moment in Riften when he’d had the hunger return in strength; and he had been well distracted by everything else that had been happening. At this point, though, the clamor in his brain was beginning to be deafening.
He whispered it to Brynjolf as they descended toward the marshland.
“No, lad. You really shouldn’t,” Brynjolf said.
“I know I shouldn’t but you can’t imagine how awful this is on top of the other thing.”
Brynjolf sighed. “I knew it, all along I knew it, and I was hoping it wasn’t really true. I don’t know what to tell you. We can’t afford for you to get the shakes, not right now. Can you hold off for a few more days while we get to the castle?”
Andante considered. He took stock of every part of himself. And no matter how he considered, he found himself lacking.
“No. I don’t believe that I can. I think I could if I weren’t also sick.” He laughed. “What a fine predicament.”
“Alright. I hate to let you do it but… Let’s go rent a room, then. I’ll watch you.”
It was dark by the time they got themselves settled, and fed – at least Andante got himself fed. He sat nursing a tankard of wine, gritting his teeth and trying to convince himself that he really didn’t need the skooma, he only wanted it, while Brynjolf and Serana discreetly disappeared for a time. But his fever was rising, and the only thing he could think of that might help was that. His hand was drifting toward his pocket once more when his companions returned, looking more content than they had before. He grinned at them.
“Are you alright, Andante?” Brynjolf asked quietly.
Andante ached from top to bottom.
“No. I’m really not.”
“Well go ahead, then. I’ll keep an eye on you.”
Andante sighed, releasing the tension that had been building and building as he had fought his own body. This is a damned messy thing but it’s clear that I did it to myself a long time ago, long before I have any memory of it. All I can do is try to live with it. And right now… He scooped one of the bottles out of his pocket and stepped into their room to down its contents, discreetly, out of sight.
It took only moments for his body to relax, for his head to begin humming, for his vision to blur. He stood, eyes closed, breathing deeply, feeling himself relax into himself. Funny how that works. It’s a stimulant, but it makes me relax. He opened his eyes and walked back out into the main room. He was startled to realize that there was only a small spot of clear vision in each eye.
My gods, this was a strong batch. I can barely see. I’d best not let them know what kind of state I’m in.
He made his way carefully to Brynjolf and Serana.
“Better?” Brynjolf whispered in his ear.
“Yes. Much. Thank you, Bryn. I’m sorry it’s come to this.”
“Don’t worry ab…”
His word were cut short as the door to the inn flew open and one of the town guards burst in.
“I need anyone who can wield a weapon! Now! Vampire attack! Come quickly!”
“Come on,” Andante said, gesturing to Brynjolf and Serana.
“Not a good idea, lad,” Brynjolf muttered.
“And they will look at the two of us with our weapons and our armor and wonder why exactly we’re hanging back. Stay here, Serana. Bryn, come on. Now.”
He ran out the door, following the guard and several townsmen, west across the bridge and into the swamplands. He could barely see but he could hear Brynjolf’s footsteps behind him.
Funny, I know it’s him by the sound. Good thing, too, because I can’t see a damned thing.
Ahead, he could hear shouts, screams, the clashing of weapons and the sizzling of spells being cast, and while the sane part of his mind told him to hold back the larger part of him, urged on by the rush of the skooma, pushed him forward. He waded into the battle, laughing and slashing with his axe, not really knowing who he was killing but trying, at least, to target the beings with golden eyes.
“Andante, look out behind you, lad, it’s…”
He turned on his heel and swung his axe as hard as he could at whatever it was behind him. He felt it connect, and heard a cry that was familiar, somehow. He saw something bluish-grey drop to the ground.
“No!” he heard Brynjolf yelp from behind him.
But it was too late. He stopped, and looked down, and heard the battle drifting away from him, waning, coming to a halt.
At his feet was Falion.
He knelt and checked for a pulse, but he had done a brilliant job with his axe and it was clear that Falion had been dead almost from the time he hit the ground. He stood, staring down at the body, still barely able to focus on anything outside a small pinprick in the very center of his field of vision.
I don’t know what to do.
He heard Brynjolf’s armor whispering as he moved closer.
“Well then. I guess it’s a good thing that I had no plans to be anything other than a vampire, isn’t it?”
Andante gulped.
I took the choice away from them, all those other people who might have wanted to change back. They had a choice, they could have spoken to Falion and gotten cured. I took. The choice. Away.
He turned and looked into Brynjolf’s face, expecting some sort of anger, recriminations – something. But there was nothing. Brynjolf was calm, supportive, and sympathetic.
“I’m sorry, Bryn.”
It’s because I’m a godsdamned addict.
“It’s alright, Andante. I made my choice, back in Riften. I knew what I was doing. It’ll be fine. Now let’s clear out of here before someone sees us and blames it on the vampire.” He grinned. “I’d best put my illusion back on, as well.” He cast the spell and smiled with his green eyes.
Andante nodded, silently, and miserably followed Brynjolf back to the inn.
____
Brynjolf and Serana wandered around the house, exclaiming over the amount of wealth on display. Brynjolf made a valiant attempt to joke about it, asking whether the Guild could use Andante as a bank the next time it fell on hard times. They admired his collection of weapons and tools; Andante slid open a drawer to show Brynjolf his stash of flawless gems and Brynjolf’s eyes got round. They walked past his Dark Brotherhood armor, displayed on a mannequin, and Brynjolf’s eyebrow rose.
“Well I don’t much like it, Bryn. I look better in blue.”
“Aye, lad, but it always catches me by surprise to remember that you do that as well.”
“Well, yes,” Andante murmured under his breath, staring off into nothing. “I’m definitely involved in all sorts of unsavory things.” I kill people for a living, and I must have done so for a very long time given how good I am at it. I even kill people when I don’t intend to. Who am I kidding. Look at this place. I don’t need to kill people for a living, I kill them simply because I get a thrill out of being so good at it.
Why does it even matter?
He walked into his bedroom and suddenly realized that he felt horrible. Feverish, craving more of what he’d already learned was not a good idea to have, and more conflicted about himself than he could ever remember feeling.
I want to know who I am. I want to know who did this to me.
And then I will have my revenge.
“I need to rest,” he said to nobody in particular.
“All right,” Brynjolf said, pushing past him into the room and kicking off his boots. He looked up at Andante with a sly smile.
“All right,” Serana called from the doorway. “I’m going to go use your wonderful bath, if that’s ok. It’s been nearly forever.”
Andante chuckled. “But of course. We’ll stay up here.”
He heard her leaving, and turned to smile at Brynjolf.
“What are you up to, slipping out of your armor like that, loverboy?”
“I’m going to help cool you off, that’s what. It’s no use worrying about something we can’t change, and you’re sick. We’ll head out in the morning. In the meantime you’re going to have another bottle of skooma so that you don’t get the shakes, and I’m going to put my nice cool vampire flesh up against you so that we keep your fever down.”
Andante laughed. “You think you’re going to cool me off like that?”
Brynjolf’s eyes twinkled. “Not really, but it’s worth a try, don’t you think?”
Andante nodded and kicked off his own boots. It certainly is.