The metal doors swung open with a clang. Qaralana winced. About the last thing they needed was to alert whatever creatures might live in here.
“Keep your eyes open,” Chip whispered. “I don’t like the looks of this. Or the sound, either.” He pointed down the ornately-carved stone corridor toward the object resting lightly on the floor.
Qara peered at it. She couldn’t hear anything this far off but it did look to her as though there was steam coming out of the round ball on the floor.
“Dwemer sphere?”
“I think so. Just keep your blades ready.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
First, Qara opened the door to their right. They’d come so far to find the book, and she was not going to miss it for lack of investigating. The partially-collapsed room seemed to have been a bedchamber, but now held nothing but rubble and some bits and pieces of Dwemer scrap metal.
They returned to the hall. The closer they got to its end, the deeper Qara’s frown got, for it was clear that the sphere they’d both seen had already been dismantled.
“Odd,” she said. “It sure looked like there was steam coming out of it.”
“Sounded that way, too,” Chip said.
She glanced sideways at him. “Ok, you’re going to tell me what this is all about. Maybe not right this moment, but soon. You keep talking about smelling things, and you can hear stuff I can’t hear. I want to know why.”
He winced. “You don’t really want to know, Sis,” he murmured.
“Yes, I do. There’s something strange going on. Out of nowhere I suddenly can Shout and absorb dragon souls. And you’re…”
“Later,” he hissed. “I want to know what wrecked this sphere. And what’s behind that door?” He pointed to their left.
She pushed open the doors and jumped, blades in hand, seeing the spider automaton just inside the entrance. But it didn’t move; it had long since been disabled. So had the second spider and the sphere up on the raised second level of the space.
“Let’s go,” Chip whispered.
Qara was about to agree when a cold draft touched her skin. She shook her head. “No, there’s an opening back here,” she said, pointing at the far corner. “I’m not leaving any room unexplored, just in case.”
Chip sighed, but followed as Qara led the way into the dark corner. It was mostly blocked by debris, and she almost turned back; but movements of the ceiling-to-floor cobwebs in the corridor drew her onward. After clearing the path of sticky webbing she saw another disabled and partially-dismantled spider automaton.
“This makes no… Oh!” she exclaimed, turning to the right. There was a downed Centurion lying in a heap in the corner. Beyond it a skeleton lay atop stones covered in old bloodstains. There was a Dwemer panel, partially askew, blocking the end of the passage.
“Ok, I get it. This was just a hallway, and they used it for storage. Whoever this poor guy was alerted the automatons…” She stopped as she spied a piece of paper, placed beside a still-burning brazier. She picked it up and glanced it over.
“And they chased him in here,” Chip finished. “Whoever it was must have been pretty strong to have taken down all these things including a centurion.”
Qara shook her head. “No. This is really odd, but it seems this guy refurbished the centurion to obey him. Even gave him a name – Captain Platearms.”
Chip snickered.
“Yeah, I know. It looks like the Captain there defended our skeleton as long as it could. But spiders and spheres aren’t nearly as strong as these big things. I wonder what it was fighting.”
Chip frowned. “Yeah. Let’s be extra-careful. If whatever it was is still roaming around in here I don’t want to run into it by surprise.”
They returned to the main passage and continued on through another set of metal doors. The larger chamber beyond was in poor shape, with support beams at crazy angles and huge chunks of carved stone littering the floor. Qara looked up, uneasily.
I don’t want to be in here if there’s any kind of tremor.
“Look out!” Chip hissed behind her.
This time, Qara could hear what her brother heard. The rolling and hissing of a Dwemer sphere was hard to mistake for anything else. Both of them made for the darkest shadow they could find. Qara held her breath as the sphere clanked along the floor, stopped for a moment just beside them, and then continued out the door.
Thank the gods for Delvin’s training. Again.
Qara started to move again, only to spot a Dwemer spider. This one was operating and was raised up on the points of its legs, poised to attack. Qara saw an opening to her right and darted into it, hoping they could pass around the spider without being spotted. To her dismay, it was a dead end, a space with one large table at its back wall. Perhaps it had been a dining area, or a workspace; but regardless, they couldn’t get out that way.
They returned to the chamber and tried to slip past the automatons. Oddly, while the sphere was resting in place, still on alert, it didn’t spot them. The spider, however, followed Qara down the next corridor. She dispatched it quickly, but there was still nothing quiet about the metal of her daggers against the metal of the spider. Once it was down they hurried along the corridor and through yet another set of doors; she closed the doors behind them, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Good, that’ll at least slow that sphere down for a bit.”
Before them was a series of narrow, silent hallways, full of debris and connected by ramps leading upward. It was good that they were moving up again, Qara thought, but intensely frustrating that they still hadn’t found the book. She was busily wondering what Jarl Agnar and the others were up to when she looked down and caught herself just in time.
“Pressure plate,” she whispered, pointing down. She couldn’t see what trap it might spring, but she definitely didn’t want to find out.
“Thanks.”
By the time they opened another set of doors into a two-level chamber, Qara was thoroughly disoriented. She couldn’t tell how far they’d come or how close to the surface they might be. She sighed.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m getting really mad. This is…”
“Look out!” Chip barked as a sphere rolled out of the deep shadows, extending to its full height as it headed toward her. He stepped past and began slashing at the construct. Qara tsk’d in disgust that she’d alerted the sphere, but then ran to help Chip. Between the two of them, they had it defeated shortly.
“Sorry about that,” she grumbled once it was down.
“No need. I get it. And we hadn’t seen anything for… well…. What year is it?”
Qara cocked her head to one side as a ticking noise caught her attention. “I think there’s another one down below us,” she whispered. “Let’s stay on this balcony and try to sneak past.”
The balcony hugged the edges of the chamber and led to a gate. Qara opened it, prepared for attack; but instead she found just more corridors and more ramps.
“I really don’t like this,” Chip whispered, pointing around at the piles of rubble half-blocking most of the passages. Side chambers were impassable, full of fallen masonry. “It’s like it could all come down any second.”
“All the more reason not to linger,” she agreed.
They had to dismantle one more spider on their way around and upwards. It was almost like a square-sided spiral, odd as that seemed; and Qara was both relieved that they were moving up toward the surface and concerned that they wouldn’t find what they’d come for.
They arrived at another very large chamber, this one with stairs leading up to another bedchamber. Qara tsk’d in disappointment when they found no book, but pointed to the skeletons on the floor.
“You know, something just occurred to me. Ulgar – he’s one of the Jarl’s housecarls – was talking about how scholars came here to search for something, but then the machinery came to life and – oh, how did he put it – ‘killed all the little guys.’ That would go a long way toward explaining what happened to our skeleton with the named centurion. But this had to have happened ages ago. If the monk’s story was correct it’s been long enough ago that any tales about it would be hard to take seriously.”
“Hmm.” Chip rubbed his chin. “I wonder if this Ulgar’s been around longer than you think.”
Qara snorted. “He’s hardly ancient, Chip. I’d be surprised if they’re as old as Uncle Dar.” They started back down into the large chamber. “It’s odd, though. He and his brother have this mansion. The family homestead. It’s enormous, and it’s beautiful, even though it could use a good airing-out and a cleaning. But they live in this little shack out in the middle of nowhere. Apparently they like hunting.”
Chip frowned. “Ok, that’s interesting. Let me think about that for a bit.”
It took them a few minutes to navigate the piles of rubble in this huge chamber to reach a set of closed gates at the far side. When Qara pushed them open and looked down the hallway past them, she frowned. There was a disc, or sphere, with three blue inlays, fastened to the floor in some way. Of more concern, though, were the two metal structures on either side of it. There was steam coming from the one on the left.
“Centurion,” Chip whispered, pointing to it.
She nodded. Time to be careful.
The space the centurion was in was huge. It stretched up several stories over Qara’s head and at least one below the landing they were on. In front of her was a desiccated body; not a skeleton, but likely belonging to someone who’d come in much later, as she and her brother had.
She didn’t have much time to look around, though. A spider near the body came to attention and then attacked. Two more followed. It wasn’t difficult for her and Chip to take care of them; at this point she knew where to aim on the framework of the spiders to create as much havoc as possible to their inner workings. What concerned her more was the centurion beyond them, still firmly attached to its support frame but emitting steam.
That’s not an unpowered or damaged construct. That’s going to come alive and attack if we get too close.
A fourth spider skittered up the stairs to engage her. She took care of it with one eye still on the centurion.
She turned to look at Chip and pointed. “What the heck is that thing with the blue discs?”
He frowned. “I forget the actual term, but I’ve heard of them. Harald would know. Dwemer power control things. Tonal doohickeys.”
She stifled a snort. “Doohickeys?”
“Well I don’t know what the word is. Do I look like a dwarf to you?”
She snickered. “No, you look like a…” She stopped as her gaze came to rest on a table just beneath the blue discs. “Wait. There are books there! I’ll bet this is what we came for!”
In her excitement, she’d forgotten to be quiet. There was a loud clunk, followed by the hiss of steam as the centurion detached from its support frame and began moving toward them.
“Blast,” Chip said.
Qara stomped her foot. “Damn it.” She ran back up the hall a bit and took out her bow, fearing a protracted fight and wanting to do as much of it from a distance as she could. Chip, on the other hand, had his blades out and engaged the centurion at close range.
She fired a single shot at the machine, watching the arrow lodge itself in one of the machine’s joints. A moment later, she heard the resounding clang of Chip’s blades striking metal.
The centurion stopped, hissed, and fell over.
Qara’s mouth dropped open as she stowed her bow and ran to meet Chip. “Are you kidding me? After all that, we took it down with just a couple of attacks?”
“Yeah,” Chip said. “I think your arrow mucked up something in its vital organs, if you can call them that. After that it was easy.” He wiped a hand across his brow. “And I’m glad of it. I was afraid we were in for a bad time.”
“Me too!” Qara said, moving toward the table. “Let’s see.” There was a good-sized pile of rubble between the two centurion frames, and she clambered over it to get to the table just behind it.
The books on the table included a volume of The Wolf Queen and, she realized with a snort, a copy of the ubiquitous Lusty Argonian Maid. Directly in the center of the table, though, was a slim volume she didn’t recognize. She reached for it, realizing that her hands were trembling. Flipping the cover open, she saw a short title, the first letter of each word illuminated in beautiful artwork.
The Heart Chamber. By Skorvaal.
“This is it!” she yelled, wincing as her voice echoed around the room. “Sorry.”
“I think we’ve taken care of all the machines,” Chip said, grinning. “That’s great. Finally. Let’s see if we can get out of here now. I need a breath of fresh air. And maybe a nice juicy steak or something.”
Qara snorted. “Honestly. You guys and your meat.”
“Huh?”
“We were on our way to their manor when Ulgar complained about his brother hunting with a sword. Spoils the meat, he said.”
Chip chuckled; but Qara saw the briefest flicker of something cross his face. “Everyone knows you hunt with a bow,” he said. “What’s the book say?” he added, pointing at the volume in her hands.
Deftly changing the subject. I wonder what’s going on.
“It’s the story about the Heart of the Gods. Whatever that is, it was used by the first people here to warm the southern part of Falskaar and make it habitable. At least that’s what Jarl Agnar told me.” She flipped through the pages of the volume quickly. “Looks like the Heart is in one of these really old Nordic ruins. We need to get this back to Amber Creek. Maybe Brother Thorlough can be useful for once and tell us which ruin it is. We have most of what we need to open the place.”
Chip grinned. “I take it you’re not fond of Brother Thorlough.”
“Not at all.” Qara grinned at her brother. “There’s a door over there. I’ll bet that’s our exit.”
Through the door they found what Qara had hoped they would find: a Dwemer lift that took them all the way to the surface. A lever in its caged exit opened onto the ruins of a small Dwemer village, high enough on the side of the mountain that the grass was covered with snow. They started down the hillside, Chip in the lead.
“Wait a second,” he said, turning to face Qara with a serious expression.
“What is it?”
“I have no idea where we’re going,” he grinned. “Lead the way.”
The sun was lowering as they reached the river. It had taken Qaralana some time to figure out where they were, and that they needed to go southeast to get back to town.
It’s pretty amazing, actually. We started down by the Priory and ended almost all the way to the northern mountains. It’s hard to believe the tunnels and caves stretch that far. I guess Brother Thorlough knows a thing or two after all. He did say it was vast.
“This is Amber Creek,” she called back to her brother as they crossed the footbridge from the town’s mine to approach the back of the barracks building. “Both the town, and the river.”
“And I assume that large house is the Jarl’s place?”
“Yeah, that’s where Jarl Agnar…”
“Wait,” Chip interrupted. “Slow down. Something’s wrong up there. I smell blood.”
Qara shot him a sharp glance. “What?”
“Can’t you feel it? There’s something wrong in the town. Don’t stop, but just keep your eyes open. I don’t know what’s going on but I don’t like it.”
Qara had to admit to herself that she felt it, too. It was ominous, as though some kind of cloud hung over the village, and not just the evening mists gathering over the water. She walked slowly past the door of the barracks, but then picked up speed as she spotted a cluster of men in the roadway. She was about to call out to Agnar when she saw it, and stopped dead in her tracks.
Chip had been right. There was blood. There was a huge pool of it splattered into the path just in front of her. As she looked up and down the main street of Amber Creek she spotted bodies: a great many bodies, strewn across the entire length of the town. The hair on her neck rose in alarm, but was slowly replaced by the heat of rising anger.
I see Agnar. And there’s Svegard and Ulgar, and even Brother Thorlough. Thank the gods. But all these corpses! Agnar’s guards most likely, and others. Bandits? Maybe?
Gods. I hope none of them is Olvir. Or the smith… or…
There was another man standing in the group before her, someone she didn’t recognize.
“They’ll kill me if I tell you,” the man was saying as she neared them.
“And I’ll kill you if you don’t!” Agnar shouted at him. “Where are they?”
The man blanched, and held up his hands like a shield. “Ok, ok! They’re at Fort Urokk! He wanted them taken there, but I… I don’t know why. I swear, I don’t know why!”
Qara had seen Jarl Agnar angry before, but she’d never seen anything like the look on his face right then. There was nothing remotely resembling the calm, even-tempered Jarl she’d come to know, and she couldn’t help but be simultaneously angry and terrified.
“Very well,” he said, snarling. He turned to his housecarl. “Svegard.”
What passed between Agnar and Svegard, Qara couldn’t tell; but Svegard nodded. “I’m on it.”
On it? What…
Svegard drew his sword, turned to his right, and with one massive blow slew the man. He fell, blood still pumping from the huge gash across his neck. Svegard calmly turned back to Agnar.
Qara was dimly aware of Chip running past the group, around to the back. She saw him surveying the area, his head swiveling back and forth, his frown growing deeper by the moment as his gaze fell on one body after another. He moved up behind Thorlough and Ulgar; and then his eyebrows rose for a moment, as if in shock, before he faded out of her line of sight. She felt a little bit sick to her stomach and light-headed as she looked back at the scene before her and watched Svegard sheathe his blade as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.
This is silly. How many people have we had to put down in the course of this? Why does this one bother me so much? It surprised me how powerful Svegard is, but…
It’s Agnar. That’s what it is. He’s so angry.
He was still locked in a gaze with Svegard as he began to speak, and she couldn’t help being a bit shaken. Ulgar and Svegard had made it clear from the beginning that they were completely loyal to Agnar; but now she could tell beyond any doubt that Svegard would do anything at all for his Jarl.
For his King, that is.
“You’ve come at a convenient time,” Agnar said, slowly disengaging from Svegard’s stare to turn to her.
“What in Oblivion happened here?”
“Yngvarr has crossed yet another line. He attacked the town. As you can see,” he said sadly, gesturing up and down the corpse-riddled street. “While we were out fighting his men, more snuck in. And…” His voice thickened, whether in anger or in pain Qara couldn’t tell. She saw Chip circle around behind Agnar and shake his head slightly.
What is he doing?
“And what, Jarl Agnar?” she asked quietly.
“They took Jalma and Wilhard! They took them!” His voice dropped. “They took them away from me.” It was just a moment before he took a deep breath and his voice strengthened again. “We are going to get them back! Please tell me you found the book!”
“Yes. Yes, of course,” she said, extending it toward him. “It’s right here.”
Agnar heaved a sigh of relief. “Finally, good news. Thorlough, take a look at it and tell us if there’s anything in it that we can use.”
Thorlough opened its cover and started reading. “Hmmm.”
Qara still felt as though she was in a fog, as all the information filtered through a haze of exhaustion and shock. Yngvarr had threatened the town while she’d been standing here. He’d sent his goons here to rob and kill. They’d kidnapped Agnar’s wife and son. The more she thought about it, the more her shock and confusion began to boil.
Out of the depths of her mind, Dardeh’s voice called to her. It was the raspy, gurgling voice she’d begun to feel accustomed to as they’d made their trek to High Hrothgar and back, as he’d tried to share what he could about being Dragonborn.
“Sometimes it’s hard to control. Sometimes it feels like the fire is just going to explode from you whether you want it to or not. It’s because your dragon blood sees the enemies before it as lesser beings. But you have to remember that dragon blood or not, you’re still in a frail human body. You can’t fly. You don’t have claws, or fangs. All you have is this power, and it can kill other people around you. I’ve had that happen. It’s an awful feeling, knowing you killed someone but not remembering how. And it can kill you. Just be aware of it. Don’t let it take you over, no matter how angry you get.”
She shook herself alert. Chip was standing beside Thorlough, looking at her with the same sort of questions in his eyes that she must have had in hers more than once, gazing at him since they’d gotten on the ship for Falskaar.
I can’t give you an answer yet. I’m not even sure I know what the question is.
Brother Thorlough was mumbling to himself as he read the slim volume in his hands.
“Interesting. Yes!”
“So?” That was Ulgar, speaking for the first time since they’d arrived back in Amber Creek.
“What does it say?” Svegard asked.
“Hmm. Good news, everyone!” Thorlough announced.
There was a prolonged silence.
Qara stomped her foot. “Do you think you might share that news with us, since we went half way across the island, underground, just to find that damned book for you?”
Jarl Agnar looked at her, one eyebrow rising. Qara felt herself flushing.
At least it wasn’t a Shout. I can see why Uncle Dar warned me about having a temper.
“Does it have what we need?” Agnar prompted gently.
“Yes! It has the location of the Heart Chamber, and much else. This is wonderful!”
“Then let us not waste any more time,” Agnar said. “We are going to Fort Urokk to save my wife and child.”
“Of course, my Jarl,” Ulgar said. “We are ready.”
“Shall we meet near the fort to plan the attack?” Svegard asked.
“Yes,” Agnar said. “That is what we’ll do.” He turned to Qara. “Will you help us?”
“Of course,” she said, not waiting for agreement from Chip. He’ll be as angry as I am about this. He’ll come with us. “All I need is for someone to give me directions.”
“I’ll get ye there, young lass,” came a deep, familiar brogue from just behind her. She whirled to see the cranky old man with white hair absolutely glaring daggers at Agnar. “Ye willnae fin’ many better guides than me.”
Jarl Agnar sighed and shook his head. “No, my friend. You don’t need to come with us. You’ve done more than your share in helping us with Yngvarr’s men, here in town.”
“Are ye now goin’ te tell me I’m too auld te help ye? Is that what it’s te be, Agnar? After a’ this time?”
The old man was positively glowering. And I thought I was the one with the temper, Qara thought, simultaneously admiring Agnar’s slow, calm smile.
“That’s not it at all, Brunulvr,” he said quietly.
Qara heard Chip’s sharp intake of breath from where she was. Brunulvr? Why is that a familiar name? Chip obviously knows.
“But I need someone strong to guard Amber Creek, in case Yngvarr sends men here to finish the job,” Agnar continued. “Would you do that for me? Will you coordinate with the guards, and help keep things under control here?”
Qara could almost feel the heat rolling off the old man. She could see the muscles of his jaws working. This was someone who wasn’t nearly ready to stop being alive, and who didn’t like being regarded as old and practically discarded. Finally his shoulders dropped their angry tension, and he nodded.
“A’richt. Ye’r the king, after all.”
Agnar snorted. “How many times have we been over this?”
“As lang as ye’ve been alive, Agnar. Dinnae forget I’m twice yer age.”
“Besides, Brunulvr. Gulmist will flay the meat from my bones if I take you with me. Speaking of wives, I am going to go rescue mine now.” He turned to Qara. “Thank you. Thank you for getting the book, and for agreeing to help us.” He nodded at Chip, not asking for any introductions, and then made for his home.
Qara smiled at the old man. “So it’s Brunulvr, is it?” she said. “You never told me your name, earlier. I’m Qaralana.”
“Aye, young lass,” he said. “Brunulvr it is.”
“Which is the name Da always uses if he’s heading to Cyrodiil, Qara,” Chip said quietly.
Brunulvr turned slowly to face Chip. His face didn’t change; in fact it seemed nearly set in stone. Chip stared back at him, expectantly, as if Brunulvr should know what he was asking.
“Yer… da, uses my name? Is that what ye said?”
“Yes, it is,” Chip answered without any fanfare. “I doubt that Qara has heard it many times but he’s inadvertently slipped up and called himself that in front of me. When he’s trying to fool someone, you know. He sounds exactly like you when he does it, too. That’s why I was so surprised. It’s like hearing Da.”
“And how do ye name yerself, laddie?” Brunulvr said slowly.
“Oh!” Qara chirped, distressed and confused and wanting to do something to break the tension. “I didn’t introduce you. I didn’t introduce the Jarl, either. What’s wrong with me?”
“Qara,” Chip murmured.
“Oh. Sorry. This is my brother, Chip.”
The old man smiled just a bit. “That’s not yer real name, is it.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. And something about the way he said it sent shock waves through Qara.
I know who this is now. It has to be.
“No, it’s not,” Chip said with a lopsided grin. “I don’t use my real name much. In fact only a few people get to use it without getting smacked.” He took a deep breath and expelled it. “My name’s Brynjolf. I’m named after my Da.”
“Shor’s bones,” Brunulvr breathed, earning a gasp from Qara.
How many times have we heard that in our lives? I always wondered why; Daddy’s not religious. It’s because this is Falskaar. And this is where Daddy’s from. And they believe the land was settled because of an avatar of Shor. It all makes sense now.
“Brynny’s still alive. And you,” he turned to Qara. “You’re his, as well?”
She nodded. “Yes, he’s our daddy. Mama’s name is Sayma and she’s a Redguard. We live in Riften. Or at least Chip used to live in Riften, but he’s moved out into a cabin of his own out by…”
“Sis,” Chip said. “He hasn’t been in Skyrim in at least fifty years that I know of.”
“Never,” Brunulvr said, staring back at Chip. “If ye were a bit paler and a lot younger I’d nae be able to tell ye apart from yer da as a young man. Grandchildren. I can barely believe it.”
The two men stared at each other a bit longer, as if there was something else passing between them. Qara couldn’t fathom what it was. Finally Brunulvr nodded, as though he was satisfied for the moment.
“Now then, ye both need tae go. Go help get Agnar’s family back. When ye come back te Amber Creek I’ll take ye te meet yer grandma. It’ll take a bit te break the news to her. She took it hard when Brynny left home.”
Qara and Chip grinned at each other.
“Grandma!” Chip said, smiling as he had when he’d been just a kid. “Never thought I’d have the chance to say that. Or Grandda, for that matter.” He started down the road to the east, just as though he was the one with the map.
Qara didn’t know what to say or do, so she simply smiled at Brunulvr, and waved, and ran to catch up to her brother. He was chuckling.
“What’s so funny? I barely know what’s going on and you’re laughing?”
Chip turned his head and grinned at her.
“Brynny.”
They both broke out into much-needed laughter. It was good to have a reason to laugh for a moment. Qara was sure that it might be the last laugh they had for awhile.