Even though they were moving at a good pace, the time they’d spent talking to Brunulvr back in Amber Creek had set Qaralana and Chip well behind everyone else. In the nearly-total darkness it should have been easy to spot the torches of Agnar’s party, yet Qara saw nothing aside from the road at her feet.
“How did they get so far ahead again?” she grumbled as they descended the switchbacks beyond the waterfall.
Chip had been sniffing the air as they ran. “They definitely came this way,” he said, moving from one side of the road to another. “What do you mean, again?”
Qara glanced at him. “I mean that when we were looking for one of Agnar’s keys, I had to meet the brothers at a cave. I took a shortcut over the mountain – but they were already there by the time I reached the spot. It was almost inhuman, how fast they moved.”
“Hmm. I had a feeling that might be the case,” Chip said. “They’re probably already at the fort, too, unless they needed to slow down for the Jarl and Brother Thorlough.”
She couldn’t help herself; she snorted in derision. “Brother Thorlough has a tendency to move slowly. On all sorts of levels.”
She heard Chip chuckle as they moved along. She watched him moving side to side, raising his head to sample the air from time to time. He stopped and looked up at the darkened sky, breathing a sigh of relief.
“I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that it’s so dark tonight, but it’s a relief at any rate,” he said.
What on Nirn is he talking about?
There was something that nagged at her about everything they’d said to each other since arriving on Falskaar. Some underlying, common theme wove its way through all of it.
“Chip,” she said. “Stop.”
She hadn’t intended it as anything other than a request, but the look on her brother’s face when he turned to face her said that she’d used a bit more of the power in her Voice than she’d intended.
“Yes, ma’am!” he said, a touch of sarcasm slipping into his tones.
Qara sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to order you around. I’m still not sure what I’m supposed to do with all this power. I’d be much happier if Uncle Dar was still the Dragonborn.”
Chip stared at her for a moment and then nodded. “And I’d be happier if Kodlak Gray-Mane was still the Harbinger of the Companions.”
Qara felt the shock of surprise slam through her body – a familiar but still tremendously unpleasant sensation. I knew he wasn’t telling me everything about this situation, but still.
“Do I know what that means? Harbinger? You told me that you’d joined up with the Companions. Are you saying that you’re…” She trailed off, not even sure how to formulate her question.
“The Harbinger? In charge? Yes and no. I’m the one everyone listens to now, gods help me – and them. Kodlak was killed, not too long ago. He left behind some notes that said he thought I should be the next Harbinger and when we…” He stopped himself and shook his head. “Well, let’s just say the others respected his wishes.”
Qara stared at him. It didn’t add up.
It’s time he spilled the beans. I’m tired of this.
“Look,” she said. “I’ve shared stuff with you, about being Dragonborn and all that. It’s no fun finding out that you’re something you weren’t expecting.” She put her hands on her hips and drew a deep breath. “But you’ve been changing the subject every time I try to ask you about this. You’ve been hearing things I can’t hear. You’ve been sniffing at stuff ever since we left your house, like some kind of a dog. And now you’re…”
She stopped short as the implications of what she’d just said and thought hit her. She stared up at her brother and saw his expression: eyes more narrowed than usual but placid, almost sad somehow, as he simply waited. Her gaze shifted, catching the unusually-shaped and, as she had seen, powerful bow he carried.
“Hircine’s…” she began.
“Yes,” he answered.
Her head spun. “Hircine’s what?”
“Hircine’s chosen hunter, Qara,” he said quietly. “One of Hircine’s own.” He looked up at the sky. “That’s why I’m glad the moons aren’t bright tonight. We need to be able to get in there quietly.” He started to move away, but she grabbed him by the arm.
“Wait. You told me that Daddy was a vampire once.”
“Yeah. That’s what he told me, anyway.”
“And I’m Dragonborn.”
Chip nodded.
“And you’re a… what, a shape-shifter?”
Chip laughed, a sharp, bitter laugh. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be afraid of me, Qara. Gods know even I was afraid of me, at first.”
She stomped her foot. “Damn it all, Chip, I’m tired of people treating me like a little kid! I’m not afraid of you, but all this hush-hush is getting to be a bit much. Will you just tell me why you act like a…”
He turned toward her, snapping his words. “A dog? Is that what you want to say? I act like a dog because I am a werewolf, Qara. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why. Nobody else seems to be able to tell me, either. I don’t mind telling you I’m kind of bitter about it. But that’s what it is, and sometimes I change even when I don’t want to.” He glanced up at the sky again. “Tonight, I don’t want to. It’s not even remotely possible to sneak into a place quietly if you’re a full head taller and wider than I am right now, and covered with fur to boot.”
Qaralana wasn’t sure she could formulate words right then, even if she’d known what to say. It was so huge. So life-altering. It was at least as terrifying as having a dragon burst into flames in front of her and having its life force enter and mix with her own. Her mouth opened, and shut, but no sounds would come.
Chip sighed.
“Look. I know we’re in a hurry, but I can’t have you looking at me like that. I’m still me. I’m still Chip.” He reached out and grabbed her by the upper arms. “I’m still your brother, and I always will be, Qara. None of this has changed that. But I have to show you, so you’ll believe me and not think I’ve lost my mind. Just promise me you’ll stay put for a few moments.”
Qara nodded, numbly. He’s going to show me? Show me …what?
Chip took a couple of steps back from her and closed his eyes. Then the most awful thing happened. Qara gasped and nearly grabbed for him as he moaned, and growled, and a terrible snapping sound came from him. Her heart started pounding, her legs felt like water, and she reflexively drew her daggers in terror as she stepped back herself. In the next moment she found herself face-to-face with a creature at least double her mass if not more.
The werewolf calmly regarded her with its green eyes – not the deep emerald she usually associated with both Chip and their father, but something closer to their mother’s pale, eerie eye color. Its broad shoulders were mostly bare skin, but covering its muzzle, and flowing down its back to a long, fluffy tail, was a thick pelt of fur.
“It’s red,” she found herself saying. Curiously, her panic started to recede.
The werewolf cocked its head to one side, asking a question just as clearly as any dog she’d ever known would do.
“Your fur. It’s red.”
The werewolf snorted. It drew its lips back, exposing a full set of intimidating fangs, and its tongue lolled out of its mouth.
He’s laughing at me! The jerk is laughing at me!
“Qara,” it said, slowly. “Blades.”
“Blades? What?” She looked down at her hands and tsk’d. “Blast it. It was force of habit. I wasn’t about to actually use them. Shor’s beard, Chip, you’re so much bigger than I am.” She looked back up at him. “Now do you suppose you could, I don’t know, put that thing away so we can get moving?”
The werewolf grinned again, its tongue out. Then the cracking noise began again. The wolf’s shape blurred. In the next blinking of her eyes Chip stood before her, clutching at his chest for a moment before straightening up and dusting himself off.
“Damn, that hurts,” he grumbled. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. It’s worse when it takes you by surprise.”
Qara pulled her hood back over her hair, thinking hard. The oddest thing was that she had every reason in the world to have been frightened – but she wasn’t. Not really. He would never hurt her. They were too close. It wasn’t even the strangest news she’d ever had, though definitely among the most unsettling.
“And yes,” Chip said. “It’s red. You dope, what other color fur would I have with hair like this? The only one in the family who doesn’t have red hair is Ma.” He grinned at her. “You coming?”
“Yeah. Yes, I am,” she said, forcing herself into motion. “Does Daddy know?”
Chip shook his head. “No, though I thought for sure he was going to guess. He asked if I’d gotten scratched by a werewolf. I hadn’t. So that’s all I told him. I’m sorry I kept it from you so long, Qara. It’s just that people don’t deal well with were-beasts. It’s not like vampires, who can just blend in. That’s one reason I’m glad my house is out in the middle of nowhere.”
She nodded slowly. “Ok. Let’s see if we can catch up with the others.”
Her mind worked furiously as they ran. It had been hard enough to grapple with what Chip had told her about their father; but somehow she’d managed to tuck that fact away into some tidy little corner of her mind. He wasn’t a vampire now. He wasn’t ever going to do any vampire things in front of her. He was just Daddy.
This, though.
Now it makes sense. Hearing waterfalls and bandits way before I knew they were there. Sniffing the air, and corners of the room. Talking about wanting…
Chip stopped short and hissed at her. “Over there,” he whispered, pointing toward the black nothingness that had to be one of the mountains. “I don’t know if you can see it yet but it looks like torchlight.”
Qara tried to shake herself out of her daze. “OK, I’ll take your word for it. I think we’ve come far enough east, it might actually be them.” She took out her map and peered at it. “We crossed the bridge, and that looks like a ridgeline off the road just in front of us. Yes. That has to be it. Good thing you spotted the torches. I would have missed them completely.”
They left the roadway and ran to meet the four men clustered around a group of large tree stumps. Ulgar turned to look at her well before she neared them, and Svegard, who was nearest the mountain itself, swiveled around a second later. Behind her, Qara heard Chip harrumph.
Wonder what that’s all about?
She didn’t have much time to think about it, though. Jarl Agnar turned as she closed the gap between them, his expression grim.
“I hope you’re ready, because we don’t have any time to waste. This is an old sewer entrance. We’re hoping it’s lightly guarded and we can get in without alarming the whole fort.”
“OK. Let’s go.”
Ulgar pushed the wooden cap aside, revealing a ladder down into the dark. Svegard descended first, followed by Thorlough and Agnar. Ulgar grunted and gestured to Qara, so she went next. She looked up at the opening just long enough to catch Chip and Ulgar giving each other a long look ending in a pair of nods.
Hmm. I wonder what that’s all about.
It was like stepping into the Ratway. Qara knew that she and Chip would be at home fighting in this enclosed space. But he’s right. That werewolf is just too big.
The Jarl and his retinue turned the corner first, moving up a stairway. None of them was particularly quiet.
“Who’s that shuffling about in the dark?” she heard from above them.
Somehow, Chip managed to get past her into the open space beyond the stairwell, a tall chamber with a hanging bridge spanning it above. Qara reached the room just as chaos erupted in a swarm of Yngvarr’s hired thugs. Qara didn’t dare Shout; and it was even a bit dicey to help with her blades for fear of striking Agnar, Svegard, or Ulgar by mistake. The only people she could definitely identify in the mass of people in nondescript armor were Chip and Brother Thorlough.
Chip’s repeated loud taunts told her he was fine. What surprised her, though, was how fiercely Thorlough battled. He and Chip stood near each other, sinking one arrow after the next into the goons atop the bridge and those trying to hide in the shadows. When he wasn’t using his bow, he pulled out a sword and readied some kind of frost magic in his left hand.
Perhaps I’ve underestimated him, she thought. In the next moment, voices from beyond the hanging bridge had her trying to rush ahead. Thorlough was fully in the way, and was so engaged in trying to find the source of the voices that he didn’t notice her trying to get by.
“Move!” she yelled, trying her hardest to keep her shout from becoming a Shout.
I can’t get angry. He may irritate me nearly to death but he is on our side.
Once more Qara found herself at the rear of the knot of men, wondering how she could push through it to help defend Jarl Agnar. Once again she was left watching Chip’s superlative archery and being nearly as impressed with Thorlough’s ambitious efforts. And as usual, Ulgar and Svegard plowed through the narrow spaces, mowing down foes with their bulk and ferocity.
But she wanted to be in it, not just watching it.
I swear by all the gods, if these guys are pushing me to the back on purpose I am going to send each and every one of them flying. I don’t care whose side they’re on!
A pitched battle on a staircase ended. While the men all gasped for breath and looked around for the next targets Qara ran past them, up into the tower beyond. A lone archer stepped out of the shadows and took aim at her; but she’d seen him with more than enough time to duck, roll forward, and pop up just beside him, stabbing him multiple times.
Their seemingly-endless passage through the sewers led to stairs, to towers, and eventually to barracks and dining spaces higher in the fort. Unnvaldr men and hired mercenaries came out of darkened side-spaces and down from upper levels. Once or twice Qara found herself wounded, badly enough that she needed to back up and let the others take point while she healed. Finally, though, they emerged into a partially flooded space with cages at its far side.
“The holding cells!” Jarl Agnar cried. “They must be here!”
“They’re probably in the back somewhere,” Thorlough said.
“Good thinking. Let’s check,” Agnar agreed, disappearing into the darkness ahead.
Qara tsk’d. There may well have been more holding cells ahead, but who knew what might be between them and Agnar?
“Wait!” she yelped, darting after him as quickly as she could go while keeping her footing on the damp stones beneath. She would have completely missed Agnar if not for Jalma’s voice coming from a chamber to her left.
“Hello?”
Jalma once again impressed Qara with her calmness in the face of a fearful situation. She’d called out, but quietly – a loud whisper that might have escaped her jailers’ notice, if any had been left alive.
“It’s Daddy!” Wilhard cried. “I told you he would come save us!”
“Agnar!” Jalma choked out, her voice full.
“Jalma! Wilhard!” Agnar cried. “You are alright!”
“Man!” Wilhard yelped, with a youngster’s enthusiasm. “Everyone’s here! Mr. Thorlough, Ulgar, Svegard, and you!” He pointed at Qara. “You must be the Traveler!”
“My name is Qara, Wilhard. And this is my brother Chip. I’m glad you and your mother are ok!”
He grinned. “Man, these guys are in trouble now.”
“Stand back, you two,” Agnar told his family. “Ulgar, get the door.”
“I’m on it,” Ulgar growled.
Why do they need to stand back? What’s he going to do, blow it up?
If that had been the case, there would have been good reason for the Jarl’s family to stand back. Instead, Ulgar grasped the metal door and pulled. Hard. The sound that came from him as he bent and twisted the lock was a low snarl that grew until the lock broke and the cage door swung inward.
Qara dared a glimpse at her brother. He didn’t see her silent question, though; he was stroking his chin and nodding.
“Get going,” Agnar told his wife. “We have to get out of here as soon as we can.”
A war-horn blew somewhere in the distance. Agnar’s eyes widened for a moment and then narrowed, a hard, angry expression taking his face.
“Well, they know we are here. We don’t have many options. We can’t go back the way we came. The exit across the hall from us is locked.”
“And the one key we found doesn’t open it,” Svegard said, handing a key to Agnar.
Agnar reached for Qara’s hand, pressing the key into her palm. “Take this and try it on the door to the left. Maybe you can find another way out. We’ll work on getting this exit open. Let us know what you find.”
Qara nodded. She didn’t like it much, but she didn’t have a better idea to offer. “Come on, Chip,” she said, darting back out of the cell block and toward the door at the left end of the hallway.
As soon as she’d unlocked the door and opened it, a mercenary opened fire on her. This time she was in a large, open space with no Jarls or Jarls’ family members in front of her.
“FUS- RO DAH!”
The archer flew end over end, slamming into the wall; she was able to take advantage of his being down to run forward and end his life. She turned to the sound of Chip’s bowstring twanging over and over and gasped to see Ulgar, backing into the room with his greatsword held high, staring up at an adversary somewhere over her head.
“Get back to Agnar!” she hissed, running past him. “Protect the King!”
Ulgar ignored her. Even worse, Brother Thorlough entered the fray, running past Chip’s drawn bow and up the stairs past Ulgar.
“What are you people doing?” she shouted; but they paid her no attention. She shrieked in anger, hurtling up the stairs past both of the men, hoping that Chip was following but not really caring one way or the other. The mercenaries in the chamber at the top of the stairs made her care. One of them went down easily but the other swung a war pick – a mace with two long, nasty spikes that made solid contact with one of her arms. She cried out, backing away from the man and barely hanging onto her ebony blade. There was a distinctive whoosh, followed by a thud; and the man groaned, falling to the floor.
“It’s done, then,” Chip said, emerging from the dark hallway. “Are you alright?”
Qara gulped and nodded, casting healing on herself. “I will be. What were those idiots thinking, leaving Agnar like that?”
“They were trying to clear the path for us, Qara. Don’t be so hard on them. Besides, Agnar still had Svegard and Jalma with him. Don’t underestimate Jalma. I saw her pick a greatsword up off one of the bodies. She’s not to be trifled with.”
“Ok,” Qara said, panting. “Ok. I’m better now. Let’s go.”
There were two more flights of circular stairs up into the tower, and one more room holding one of Yngvarr’s hired goons. This time, Qara was able to creep up behind the man and slit his throat before he knew anyone else was in the room with him.
“Unsportsmanlike on my part,” she said quietly, “but I don’t think I care.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Chip said. “I’ve still got a couple of cards to play, too, if it gets bad.”
“That totem staff?”
He nodded. “Yeah, that’s one.”
“And the other?” Qara asked, not certain she really wanted to know the answer.
He grinned. “Me.”
He’d said that just as they reached the end of the hallway – a dead end with only a ladder leading up. She climbed the ladder and pushed the hatch above it open.
“You again?”
They were obviously at the top of a tower, but one for which the stone railings had been reinforced inside by an almost solid ring of tall, sharpened, thick wooden posts. Qara was completely disoriented. She couldn’t see over them to get a sense of where they were in the fort, and she couldn’t see where the Orc’s voice was coming from.
“You may be able to break into my fort, but you’ll never get the Key!” the Orc rasped. It was the same self-important soldier she’d encountered with the late Jarl Valfred, in the catacombs beneath Borvald. “I’ll crush your skull! And feed your body to the…”
“Oh, shut up,” Qara said. “FUS- RO DAH!”
The force of her Shout struck the Orc full in the face. He flew backward into the wall of spiked posts and crumpled to the stones of the tower, giving her the opening she needed to attack with blades. Chip drew his own daggers and dashed forward, helping her get through the full Orcish-make heavy armor Yngvarr’s lieutenant wore.
“He’s got the Key of Shelter on him somewhere,” she said, kneeling down to search the body. “This is the guy who stole it out from under our noses. I’ve been waiting for a chance to take him out.”
“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” Chip said, one eyebrow raised. Qara couldn’t help but snicker.
“Ok, let’s get this key back to Agnar.”
The Jarl was waiting just outside the cell block when they finally made it back down through the tower. He looked not so much anxious, Qara thought, as impatient.
“Did you find anything useful?” he asked. “Because, eh, we got this door open.”
“That’s great then,” she said, “because we got the Key of Shelter. Here you go.” She handed it back to him as he gasped.
“What? So then… you had a run-in with Lieutenant Kolgrim, I assume?”
“That’s his name? Yeah, we did. That irritating Orc won’t be irritating anyone else again.”
Agnar stroked his chin. “Wait. If he is dead, that means the fort is without a commander.” He broke out into a slow grin. “We have a huge advantage! What do you say we take out as many soldiers as we can? I have grown tired of Yngvarr’s games.”
Qara frowned. It seemed to her that getting Jalma and Wilhard back to the safety of Amber Creek was a higher priority at the moment than settling squabbles on the backs of an already-depleted force here at the fortress. She had just opened her mouth to say so when Chip spoke.
“Sounds good to me.”
Qara swung around to stare incredulously at her brother.
“Help us clear the base,” Agnar said. “Then we’ll get the front gate open and meet back in Amber Creek!” He turned to the rest of the party, waiting next to the door they’d gotten unlocked. “You heard it. The Lieutenant is dead. Let’s show these bastards what we are made of!” By the time he’d reached the end of his statement, the Jarl’s voice had changed to a deep-throated growl.
He turned and made for the door. Qara tried to catch her brother’s gaze but he, like Agnar, had an almost bloodthirsty spark in his eyes. All of the men ran through the now-opened door and disappeared, and Qara screamed in frustration and stomped her foot on the ground.
“Men!” she shouted to the empty room. “Idiots, every last one of them!” Even Daddy. Then she drew her daggers and followed as quickly as she could.
Making their way out of the fort through this newly-opened passage was much like the trip into it had been. There were pockets of mercenaries stationed all through this wing of the fort, and too many of them fighting in close quarters for her to play much of a role in clearing them out. She ended up standing beside Jalma as the Jarl’s wife halved one of the more lightly-clad bandits with her borrowed greatsword; and even Wilhard had a shortblade in hand and was doing his best to make his own way through the fighting.
And then they all stepped outside.
Qaralana had hoped that they’d taken out most of Yngvarr’s hired hands. She was wrong. The fort’s yard was easily as well-manned as the inside had been, if not moreso. And it was still pitch-dark out. As difficult as it had been to tell friend from foe inside the towers, it was worse out here. She ran to attack the nearest form she saw and then stopped at the last second, horrified, as she realized she’d almost slashed Jarl Agnar. Thorlough was there beside his Jarl, and reached under Agnar’s weapon to take down the nearest bandit himself.
Thank the gods Thorlough was there. And I never thought I’d be saying that.
The noise was overwhelming. She could hear Agnar’s ultimatums, Chip’s sarcastic taunts, and the distinctive sound of his bow. Ulgar and Svegard were snarling, laughing, and based on the sounds she heard, slicing up enemies. But she couldn’t make out where anyone was.
An arrow struck her in the leg, and she whirled to find a Bosmer archer behind her. A Shout sent him flying off the edge of the platform they both occupied. She followed down the stairs to finish him off, but he’d landed behind her and clambered to his feet, firing another arrow that grazed her hood. She was positioning herself to attack and watching the Bosmer draw his own blades when an arrow flew down from the platform above, and the Bosmer dropped.
“Thanks, Chip!” she yelled, not seeing him but recognizing the sound of his bow and the speed with which he fired.
“Right behind you!” he shouted back. It turned out to be good that he was, too, for there were several more archers in front of her, trying to finish what the Bosmer had started. She stepped back into the shadows to heal herself as Chip’s arrows flew past one after another.
There was a sudden lull of near-perfect silence. For a moment of sheer horror she was afraid someone had managed to kill Agnar. Then she heard a roar, the clang of a sword, and Ulgar’s robust voice chuckling. “That wasn’t so bad!” Her relief nearly had her legs giving out from beneath her.
“Come on!” Chip called, leaping down from the platform and dashing into the dark toward the rest of the party. Qara collected her wits as best she could and followed.
They’d reached the main gate. There were a few more mercenaries there guarding the exit, but they were being swarmed by Agnar in his righteous wrath, and his housecarls and followers in theirs. It wasn’t long until Agnar was able to sheathe his weapon and turn to her.
“Go get that gate opened. We need to get back to Amber Creek.”
Qara didn’t take time to be offended that he’d just given her another order. Clearly, he thought of her as one of his people, and not as some outsider who had just stumbled into his lands. She nodded and ran back, up the several levels of fortifications toward the broken tower holding the lever that controlled the main gate. She had just about made it back down to the gate as it swung open.
They weren’t alone.