The brothers were long gone by the time she made it outside. Even sprinting down the road to where it curved east, and a bit past that, didn’t let Qaralana catch up with them. She’d reached the edge of the eastern mountains without finding them, and looked around, confused. Then she consulted her map again.
The only way to get there from here is to go north, all the way to the river, and then around the edge of the mountains and back south again. That would take forever. Those bandits could have met Yngvarr, handed over the key, and gotten halfway back to Staalgarde by the time we all get there.
And the cave is due east, over the mountains.
She stared at them. They weren’t all that much steeper than the mountains east and south of Riften, and she’d climbed those plenty of times. It was worth trying. Plus, the Greybeards had taught her a Shout – Whirlwind Sprint – that might help her get up and down some of the steeper spots.
She took a moment to make certain everything was secured in her pack or elsewhere on her person, and started to climb.
It wasn’t even as difficult as it looked, except when she reached the very top of the ridge. There didn’t seem to be any good handholds or even flat places she could reach using her Shout. And she definitely didn’t want to try getting over the top that way without a flat spot to land on. Who knew what might be on the other side?
“This is bad,” she muttered to herself. “If I don’t figure this out soon I’ll have to go back down and I’ll have wasted all this time!”
She edged along the ridge toward the north – for, after all, the cave was east and slightly north of the road they’d followed to the manor house. After what felt like a lifetime she found what she was looking for. There was one spot – one small weakness in the almost vertical defense of this range – where a narrow, diagonal ridge of stone pushed out from the edge. It was a good way up and would be quite a stretch to reach.
She situated her fingertips as securely as she could on that small ripple of stone and jumped at the same time she pulled, and managed to get the side of one foot onto the ridge as well. Straining to hold on, she slipped her left hand up the protruding ledge and pulled again, shifting her weight enough to get her other foot onto the edge.
Then she just clung to the rock face for a moment, trembling and panting. If she had to, she could drop back down; it wasn’t that far. But she was stubborn and had no intention of giving up. Once she’d caught her breath, she continued inching her precarious way up toward the mountain’s summit. By the time she reached the top and was able to haul herself up and step the short distance to the other side, she felt as though she’d already won a war.
It was just as steep going down as it had been going up; and it took almost as long because this side of the mountains was covered in a thick layer of cloud and she couldn’t see her footing particularly well. To make matters worse, about the time she was halfway down it started to rain. She reached the valley soaking wet and cursing. She started scouting about for the cave, hoping there would be something to help her know where the brothers had gone.
She had her daggers drawn and was creeping through the thick undergrowth when she saw a flicker of light ahead that wasn’t simply the flash from a lightning strike. This was a redder light, a glow that could only be fire. Creeping nearer, she saw a small but well-established camp, with a cooking spit over the fire, chairs pulled up nearby, and a tent off to one side. It was too dark to tell who the figure seated on one of the chairs might be, but Qara could only assume that it had to be a bandit.
The brothers can’t possibly be here yet. Not unless they’re supernatural or something.
She crept up behind the seated man, taking a wide approach and inching left to attempt to see who it was before she struck.
“Good, you’re finally here,” Svegard said.
Qara jumped. Her mouth fell open as she sheathed her blades. “How did you get here so fast? And where’s Ulgar?”
“Hunting. He was hungry. He’ll be here in a moment. The bandits must have come and gone already. Let’s get in there. With any luck, the key will be laying around in there somewhere.”
You didn’t answer my question, Svegard. How did you get here so fast?
She had expected to be waiting for them, not the other way around. But Svegard was right. They needed to get inside and search for the key while it was relatively quiet here and they had the cover of dark.
Besides, I’m soaked. It’ll be good to get out of the rain.
“We’re looking for an amulet, right?”
“Right. Small, shiny, like the one Jalma wore.”
“Wait for me,” a deep voice called from behind them.
“Are you full now, Ulgar?” Svegard asked.
“Yes. It was a good hunt.”
Something about the way he said that raised the hackles on Qara’s neck, but she didn’t know why. She shook off the odd feeling and followed Svegard into the cave.
It was a well-lighted cave as such things went, with a brazier crackling warmly just inside the entrance and torches along the walls of the tunnel. Qara was glad of it. All the light would, of course, prevent them from making a surprise entrance; but she wasn’t convinced Ulgar was even capable of such a thing after watching him lumber through their obstacles the way he had been. They made reasonably quiet progress along the path even so, until they reached a spot where the tunnel made a sharp turn to the left.
“I wonder if she’d take me back if I repent,” a soft voice mumbled from up ahead.
All semblance of quiet vanished as Svegard rushed the bandit Qara couldn’t yet see.
“Come to play? Or to die?” the bandit taunted.
Qara heard swords clashing. She managed to turn the corner in time to see a mer in the corridor, just in front of Ulgar. Svegard had run past; judging by the ice spikes flying through the air, he was dealing with a mage in the room up ahead.
Qara kept low and managed to slip past Ulgar’s greatsword and under the ice flying through the air. She came up behind the mer, turned to make brief eye contact with Ulgar, and set her blades into motion. The mer was bare-chested, with next to no protection against her blades and Ulgar’s. He fell into the doorway of a side chamber that, to her quick glance, held a cook fire and a cage. Searching it would have to wait, though, as Svegard was still fighting up ahead. She looked down at the nearly-naked elf and shook her head.
I’ll never understand that. You could get wounded just by running into sharp rocks. Wear something, people!
She rounded the corner just in time to see Ulgar take aim on the Mage.
“You may be a Nord,” the man spat, gathering his magic, “but you don’t belong in Falskaar!”
“I… must slay you,” Ulgar responded with a grunt and a powerful horizontal attack.
Just beyond them was Svegard, fully engaged in battle with another bandit. This one was a powerfully-built man with another of the metal-clad polearms she’d begun to respect.
Qara couldn’t reach either of them from her position in the mouth of the narrow tunnel. She needed to either slip under or leap over one of the brothers in order to engage one of the adversaries.
It wasn’t a difficult choice. Get rid of the mage. Always get rid of the mage.
She waited until Ulgar’s next blow, another massive horizontal sweep of the greatsword, had passed her. Then she leapt for the gap between the two bandits, rolled forward, and came up onto her toes with blades ready. She took a couple of stabs toward the mage and stepped back, only to have the other bandit take his own step backward, coming between her and the mage and pushing her out of the way. Qara’s temper flared.
“FO- KRAH!”
The powerfully-built bandit moaned, but turned back toward her and raised his pole.
“Bring it on, milk-“
He didn’t get a chance to finish the insult. She had gone into the dance her mother had taught her, the dance of blades. Slash, slash, step back, whirl, slash, slash. Ulgar had done more damage to the man than she had realized. It took only one set of attacks to send him to the cave floor. She’d lost track of the mage, but looked back in time to see Svegard sheathing his sword, standing over a corpse.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Ulgar said.
“For once I have to agree with you,” she responded.
The cave they were in was almost completely empty aside from the corpses and a brazier lighting a ledge at the far end. She jumped up onto the ledge and looked around, carefully, scanning the ground for anything shiny. There was nothing. What she did see, though, was a second side chamber that had been just out of sight from below. The brothers were heading for that doorway; she hopped down from the ledge and followed.
The most obvious thing in the space was a large wooden chest. Ulgar headed for it, but Svegard shook his head. “It won’t be in there.”
“Why not?”
Qara chuckled. “If you were in charge of something really valuable, would you leave it in a chest that screams ‘treasure’?” She started scanning the room as Delvin and her father had taught her, looking under things. There were barrels under the table; she expected to find only ingredients or food in them and was not disappointed, but she also took a moment to kneel and run her fingers along the bottom edges of them, just in case. She stood to examine the things on the tabletop. There was a glazed plate with an uneaten, cold baked potato on it, but nothing underneath.
“Hmm. That would have been a good place to hide it,” she muttered. “So… maybe under the water keg?” She felt around it and then crouched down to gaze underneath it. A glint of something metallic caught her eye, and she rose, grinning. “Or perhaps behind it.” There was a barrel placed in such a way that it blocked her from reaching behind the keg, but she wrestled it out of the way and stepped in.
There was an amulet, laid casually on the table just behind the water keg. Qara shook her head. It made no sense. They’d taken the key from the Hjorgunnar mansion, then brought it here and simply… laid it down, out in the open.
I guess they thought three goons were enough to keep it safe until they could meet up with Yngvarr. They weren’t counting on the three of us catching up with them.
I still am not quite sure how that happened.
The two men were headed for the exit when she spoke up.
“Svegard.”
“Did you find the Key?”
“I think so. Isn’t this the amulet you were looking for?” She held it out for him to examine.
“Yes! Great. We’ve got it. Bring it back to Amber Creek and give it to Agnar. We’ll meet you there. But you must hurry. I shouldn’t have to explain why.”
Qara fumed. You took so long getting to your family home that we almost didn’t get the key at all, and now you’re trying to tell me to hurry? You have nerve! Lots and lots of nerve!
She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she merely nodded and watched the brothers leave. “And now they’re going to travel back without me. I wish I understood what’s going on.”
She took a moment to relieve the dead bandits of anything valuable, and checked in the other side chamber. There wasn’t anything worth looking at there, either. Then she headed back up the side of the mountain. It was going to be much easier to scale the ridge from this side.
The skies in Amber Creek matched her mood: gray and ominous. She should have been happy; after all, she’d gotten the thing they’d been looking for and was more or less intact. But all the way back she’d had a growing sense of impending doom coupled with a smoldering resentment.
It didn’t seem right of her to be angry at them all. They weren’t thinking about anything aside from saving their own land and their way of life. The problem was that she’d stumbled into their midst. They’d figured out, right away, that she was a good fighter and of value to them; and while at first Jarl Agnar had politely asked things of her, the situation had had now devolved to the point at which she was just given terse orders by one or another of the men.
She didn’t like it.
In spite of having decided that she needed to help these people, she didn’t like it.
She had to wonder how many of them understood that she was Dragonborn. That was definitely an advantage she had over a common fighter – or in her case, a common thief-by-training. As she’d been running up the road toward Amber Creek she’d recalled an exchange between Roggi and Dardeh, back when he was still the only one who could absorb a dragon soul. It hadn’t meant anything to her at the time.
Dardeh had been grumbling about something or other.
“But, Dar. Remember who you are. You saved the world, after all,” Roggi had said.
Dardeh had positively growled. “Yes. And did I ask for the chance to do that? No, I didn’t. I just wanted to find my sister and go back to work in the mine. And as soon as they found out what I could do, they took me for granted.”
It didn’t make sense then, but it sure does now. They’re not using me because I’m Dragonborn – at least I don’t think so. I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to do with that anyway. No, they’re using me because I’m “the Traveler” and came through a Dwemer portal. What about my family? What about my friends? What about… the very attractive Imperial man I met recently?
She laughed at herself for that. The moment of amusement vanished almost instantly.
I didn’t ask for this.
But here I am, anyway.
She found Jarl Agnar seated beside Brother Thorlough, on the upper level of the Borvaldur Manor. He looked deathly serious, and close to dead tired.
“Greetings,” he said.
“I have the Key of Strength,” she said, feeling any elaboration would be superfluous at this point. Agnar’s face lit up.
“The key! Fantastic! We got our key, too. We must all meet, and discuss our next move. Everyone should be here shortly, if Ulgar is finished eating. Have a seat at the table, and we can begin.”
It seemed like a million moons ago that they’d all been seated around the Jarl’s feasting table. Yet here they were, all of them, she once more being taken for granted as part of the Jarl’s subjects.
Stop it, she told herself. It will do no good at all to become bitter about this situation. I could have left, but I didn’t. I said I’d help.
“What are we going to do next?” Svegard asked.
“Well,” Thorlough began. “Yngvarr has two of the keys.”
“Yeah, and we have three,” Svegard snorted.
Ulgar grinned. “Last I checked, three is higher than two.”
“Ulgar has a good point,” Svegard said.
“Yngvarr shouldn’t have any keys,” Thorlough protested loudly.
Qara sighed, and rubbed her forehead. “And I shouldn’t have been able to come through that portal. But I did, and he does. Could we maybe deal with the reality of the situation?”
She found them all staring at her, and felt her face flushing. “I’m sorry if that seems rude, but we can’t waste our energy wishing things away.”
“Also… a good point,” Svegard said.
“I wouldn’t count on us getting those two keys,” Agnar said.
“So then, what do we do?” Ulgar asked.
“The Heart Chamber.” That was Thorlough. He was now the focus of everyone’s scrutiny; Qara was glad to be out from under it.
“The what?” Svegard asked.
“This is no time for poetry,” Ulgar muttered. Qara found herself stifling a laugh.
Thorlough, to his credit, didn’t get upset for once. “No, no. The Heart Chamber. It’s the underground cavern that was made to store the Heart of the Gods.” He stared at the Hjorgunnars as if he expected them to understand immediately.
“So…” Svegard prompted. “What’s your point?”
“I think he’s saying we need to find it,” Jarl Agnar said dryly.
“Exactly. Yngvarr may or may not know where it is. Either way, we have to find it.”
“And just how would we go about doing that?” Ulgar asked.
Thorlough crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. Qara had the sinking feeling they were in for a saga.
“The old scholars of Falskaar used to study in an old ruin to the northwest.”
“Vizemundsted?” Svegard asked. “We have all heard the stories.”
“The scholars were there until the place awakened,” Ulgar said. “And the Dwemer tech crushed the poor little guys.”
Thorlough made a sour face at that, but mercifully didn’t respond to it. “There was a book. Documentation of the Heart Chamber. It contained all sorts of information, including the location.”
Nice of you to remember that now, Thorlough. I guess we needed the keys first, now that I think about it, but… Qara couldn’t help but shake her head.
“So we need that book?” Agnar asked.
Svegar frowned. “How do we get it?”
“Someone has to go to Vizemundsted and get it.”
Everyone around the table shifted uncomfortably in their seats. “OK…” Ulgar said, breaking the silence. “But who goes?”
“I have a town to run,” Agnar said flatly. “I can’t just disappear into the mountains.”
Qaralana’s mouth sagged open at that. He had a town to run while they were off searching for a key, too, but it didn’t stop him then!
“And I’m not leaving your side again,” Svegar told him. “Yngvarr’s bandits were at Hjorgunnar Manor. Yngvarr’s men are getting more dangerous.”
Thorlough laughed. “They’re probably cowering right now, pulling their hair out.”
“Then we stay here with Agnar,” Ulgar said. “That doesn’t leave many of us.”
I don’t like where this is going. And I definitely don’t like the idea that it’s going there with Thorlough.
“Me?” Thorlough said, almost as though he’d read her mind. He scoffed. “I’d love to go, trust me. But I fear I’m not much of a combatant. Dungeon delving isn’t my thing.”
Qara’s mouth fell open again. She tried to contain herself, but it didn’t work.
“Not your ‘thing?’ Really? It didn’t bother you to go with Jarl Agnar to fight for a key. Aren’t you the one who said Yngvarr had poked the nest with a stick, and you’d fight for the Jarl, and all that?”
He gave her a sour look. “Kalrun was already pushing it.”
“So put on some actual armor,” she muttered. “Run around in paper-thin robes and wonder why you get hurt?”
Jarl Agnar proceeded as if he hadn’t heard her outburst. “That just leaves one person.”
They all turned to stare at her. This time she didn’t bother trying to hide her reaction.
“No! No way am I doing this alone!”
“Please,” Agnar said. “You have proven yourself time and time again.”
“Yes I have!” she snapped. “I’m convenient, aren’t I?”
“You can do this!” he said. “Help our people, those who are in need, once more!”
“No, I can’t do this!” Qara yelled. “Not alone!” She drew a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m sorry to be disrespectful, but I was lucky to make it through the Dwemer ruins I came through to get here in the first place. I’m trained as… well, not as a fighter. I have some special skills but I’m not good enough with them, yet.” I’m only fifteen years old! You people are men who have been around a long while and you’re all bigger than I am!
None of them looked persuaded. In fact, they all gazed anywhere but at her. They all shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
She sighed. I have to do this, don’t I. I wish I’d just gone…
“Wait,” she murmured under her breath.
“What is it?” Agnar asked.
Harald! Harald knows Dwemer ruins! I’ll go to Windhelm and get him to come with me! I know he will!
“You already said Yngvarr may not know where the Heart Chamber is; and even if he does know, we have three of the keys. That buys us some time.” She looked at Agnar and grinned. “I’ll do it. I’ll go. But you have to give me a couple of days. I’m going back to Skyrim to get a friend. He’s the… Well, all you need to know is that he’s a real fighter, and he loves everything Dwemer.” She could see the look of discomfort on Agnar’s face, and thought he was about to forbid it.
But you don’t get to forbid anything, Jarl Agnar. I’m not one of your subjects.
“Give me a couple of days. I’ll be back just as quickly as I possibly can be, and then I’ll go find your book.”
“I don’t like it.”
“I don’t care,” she said firmly. “Those are my terms. Take it or leave it.” She shrugged. “Listen, I want to help all of you. My daddy was born here, even though he left when he was very young. So I feel like I have ties here, sort of. And I wouldn’t feel right about leaving you without some assistance, even if I didn’t have those ties. But I’m not doing it all by myself. You have other people in this city, and they can help, too.”
“Very well. We’ll be waiting for your return. May the Divines watch over you.”
“Fair travels, friend,” Svegard added.
Agnar and the brothers rose to leave. Thorlough did, as well, but Qaralana grabbed him by the arm.
“I need you to tell me about this place I’m going to.”
He nodded. “Vizemundsted was used by our scholars as a library. However, in 147 of the Third Era the Dwemer machinery somehow reawakened, killing all but one of them. Only that one man made it out alive, and the library itself was lost. A tragedy, really. As far as we know, nobody has been inside since. The one man who survived immediately tried to rewrite as many books as he could, though memory is never perfect, so a lot of details probably got… skewed. ”
“Right. So how do I get in?”
“Oh, the actual entrance.”
“Yes. It would be helpful.” Gods but you’re stupid.
“Well, after the one man escaped, it was sealed. However, legend says you can access it by going through Watervine Chasm, to the west. It supposedly connects to a massive network of caverns, underground rivers, and ruins that should lead you right into the library.”
“Massive, eh? And you hadn’t thought to mention this earlier? Now I know I was right to insist on help.”
He ignored her. “Once you’re in, look for a book called The Heart Chamber. That’s what we need. Bring the book back to Agnar. Then we can figure out where the heart is and stop Yngvarr from obtaining it. It’s going to be a long journey, and I’m not sure what kind of dangers you’ll encounter. But I know you can do it,” he added softly. “And may Shor guide your journey.”
Qara nodded at him, and left the longhouse, headed for the docks. She waited until she was clear of the town to indulge in a long, loud scream of utter frustration.
By the time she made it to the docks the clouds had mostly cleared. The sun revealed a beauty to this coastline that the dark and damp had concealed the last time she was here. Still, even as dark as it had been she recognized the dark-haired Nord on the ship. She dashed down the gangplank and onto the ship, and he looked up at her and smiled.
“Hi there. Name’s Wulf. I’m the captain of the ship docked here.” His accent reminded her of Delvin Mallory and made her even more anxious to get back to Skyrim. “I wanted to thank you for helping out. Damned bandits snuck up on us.”
“You’re welcome. I was told you could get me back to Skyrim.”
“Yes. If you need to travel between Falskaar and Skyrim and I’m in port, I’ll take you. However, it won’t be free. I wish it could be, but travel simply costs too much these days. It’ll be five hundred gold a trip.” She must have looked shocked, because his expression turned apologetic. “I know it’s a bit steep, but I’ll shift my schedule for your convenience. Hopefully that’s alright, but it’s the best I can offer. The trip takes less than a day.”
“Well,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t mind honesty, “it is pretty steep, but I understand. Here’s the thing. I need to get back to Skyrim right away. As in as soon as you can get me there. It’s imperative that I go get some help because things are looking bleak in Amber Hold and I promised the Jarl I would help. But I can’t do it alone. My help is in Skyrim.”
“Alright then,” he said. “You can even have the top bunk.”
She went below, positive that there was no way she could possibly sleep at sea. And yet the next thing she was aware of was the call “we’re in Dawnstar, miss!”
Dawnstar? Oh no. More delay. Well, I’ll take the ferry over to Windhelm. That’s pretty close to Harald’s house, anyway.
She darted down the beach to where the much-smaller local ferry was and gave the ferryman his money.
“Climb in the boat and get comfortable,” he said, picking up his oars.
It seemed an interminable amount of time to row down the coast, in part because on the small, open boat there was no sleeping and no shelter from the cold winds. It was still dark when they reached Windhelm, but it didn’t prevent her from scampering up from the docks into the city and then out the main gates. If she’d had more time, or it had been daylight, she might have stopped to pay her respects to the King and Queen, but as it was she was more interested in locating their son. She dashed down the long, ancient bridge and skidded around the corner of the stables, then across the road and up the slope to Harald’s home.
“Harald?” She pounded on the door. He wouldn’t be happy about being roused in the middle of the night, but when he found out why, she was sure it would be fine.
There was no answer. She pounded again, longer and harder. “Harald! Are you home? I need you!”
She heard a loud yawn from across the roadway, and looked back just as the local carriage driver came crawling out of his tent.
“He’s not home, lass,” the man called. “Been away quite awhile now.”
Leave it to the carriage driver to know everything. But damn. Now what? I was counting on him to come back to Falskaar with me. If not Harald…
She darted across the road to where the man stood yawning. “Take me to Riften. Just as fast as you can go. I’ll pay you extra if you can push your horse a little. It’s an emergency!”
“Alright then. Climb in back and we’ll be off.”
All the way south she rehearsed what she would say to Chip – more or less the same things she’d told herself when trying to convince herself to help. It was Falskaar. It was where their father was from. They had ties there.
She grinned. And if all else fails I’ll tell him the hunting is really good there. That’s what Ulgar says, anyway.
She jumped down from the carriage and ran past the stables toward her cottage. It was too early to find her father in the marketplace, and it would take far too long to circle around the city to visit her mother. No, she just intended to duck into her house, drop off a few things, refill her waterskins and head up the ridge to the west to get…
As she rounded the corner of her house, a huge roar just over the lake nearly startled her out of her boots. She grabbed her bow in dismay. The last thing she needed was to fight a dragon right now. She couldn’t tell what sort of dragon it was but its back was lined with upright spines, and its tail carried more of the same.
She cleared her throat and focused her mind on the thing she’d done in Falkreath, the Shout she’d used to bring a dragon to ground. It needed to get close enough to her for her energy to reach it, and it was just circling over Riften and over her cabin, looking down at her.
Get down here, get down here…
It roared, turned, and sailed away to the northeast.
“No!” she shouted in frustration. She and one of the Riften guards chased it down the road for a bit; but when it became obvious that the dragon was heading high up into the Velothis she stood watching for a moment, until it disappeared into the mountain clouds.
I guess the gods don’t want me to forget these are here, huh.
She ran back to her cabin.
“Get ready for an adventure, brother!”