Rune had boasted of his royal lineage to each and every member of the Guild. If he could've found a skeever to listen, Macayla was positive he would've told it too. At first, the news astonished everyone, but after the third, fourth, or fifth mention, they were ready to strangle him.

Macayla decided to go to the marketplace to buy an apple from Marise Aravel before she went down to the Flagon to sell her loot to Tonilia. She felt a swelling of pride in seeing the straightened shoulders and hope in the townspeople's eyes. She had helped to be a part of that change. She had only lived in Riften for about a month and a half, but she considered it her home now. If she belonged anywhere, it was here.

She ate her apple as she watched the hustle and bustle of the marketplace when she felt someone watching her. The majority of Riften knew who and what she was, so these weren't suspicious eyes: they were threatening as they recognized her.

Edvar. The blood washed out of her face and she felt all the strength leave her. He had found her. Her bliss at being dead and ignored was gone.

She had to keep it together and think; she couldn't go running for the Cistern like a spooked deer. She had the responsibility of protecting the Guild. So she turned north to head down to the lower level of Riften, scanning the multitude of faces for any she recognized or that stood out.

A light-haired man was focused on her, but as soon as he saw her turn, he immediately turned his eyes down to pretend to check out the vendor's merchandise. But even with him being caught, Macayla still felt the pressure of more eyes—there was one more.

Now with a plan, Macayla went headlong into the throng of the masses; she hoped she could lose them in the confusion. She even drew herself in making herself smaller than the people corralling around her. For a few moments, it worked; she didn't feel their gazes anymore. But once she exited, she was seen, and she felt them shadowing her.

No matter; the backup plan was guaranteed to work. She headed down the creaking wooden steps to the lower level of the city. Macayla was in no hurry to escape those following her as she crossed the makeshift bridge over the canal, only pieces of wood tied together. The entrance to the Ratway sat to her left, but she headed to the right. The wooden steps creaked under their boots behind her.

Once she rounded the corner that hid her from sight, Macayla jumped into action. She held the apple in her mouth as she jumped at the wall to her left and used it to propel upwards to grab onto one of the rafters overhead. She swung her body for momentum until her feet caught another beam; she pulled herself up, completely hidden among the rafters. She watched for the men to pass underneath her.

The men ground to a halt right below her. "What the— Where'd she go?"

"Maybe there's a hidden door..." The speaker felt of the wall she kicked off of for grooves of a door. The other one leaned over the canal to check for disturbances in the water. She desperately prayed they wouldn't look up.

"There's a sign; check that store, I'll go back up. She couldn't have gotten far."

They ran off: Elgrim's Elixirs' door opened as one checked the alchemist's shop and the other's feet pounding the other makeshift bridge to head up top.

She didn't waste any time swinging out of her hiding spot and dropping down—her arms were about to give out on her. Macayla turned back around and hurried for the Ratway entrance. She carefully opened the iron gate so it wouldn't squeak, closed it behind her, then did the same for the wooden door.

***

After carefully sneaking through the Ratway again—having to kill the skeever replacements—Macayla practically ran into The Ragged Flagon. Her urgency alarmed Dirge before she could even reach him; he eyed the door behind her.

"What's happened?" he demanded when she finally reached him.

"The former employer who tried to have me killed knows I'm alive. He had some men in the marketplace, but I gave them the slip."

He took it as fact without asking any questions. "If they make it down here, Vekel and I won't let them get through. Go tell the others in the Cistern."

She hurried past Vekel, approaching Dirge to see what was going on to open the storage cabinet and shut it behind her. She jogged down to the Cistern's door.

Brynjolf was walking toward the Flagon when she came through. He looked relieved to see her.

"There you are, lass; thought I would have to go out looking for you."

She rushed toward him. "Brynjolf, we have a problem."

Concern washed over his face. "Problem?"

"Edvar's men are here and they saw me."

He cursed as he looked behind her.

"I led them away from the Ratway, but it's only a matter of time before they hear about it. We have to tell the others to be careful when they come in or out—through the graveyard or Ratway."

Brynjolf put his hands on her shoulders. "I will; you have something else to do."

This was why he looked for her: he had another job. "What?"

"You're off to speak with Maven Black-Briar; she's requested you by name."

Macayla's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Well, sure, but will I come out of there alive?"

He laughed. "If it was like that, she wouldn't be asking for you, she'd be calling on the Dark Brotherhood. It's just business."

"What does she want with me?"

"That's between you and Maven, and I prefer to keep it that way. Don't worry about it. Maven's business dealings usually have a lot of gold in it.

"And don't worry about telling the others about Edvar's men; I'll handle it."

***

When Macayla exited the Cistern through the false crypt in the graveyard, it was raining. Edvar's men would be watching the area where she disappeared so they wouldn't be on the other side of town. The bad thing was that she was to meet Maven Black-Briar at The Bee and Barb and the inn was located right over where she vanished. But the rain and it being night would help cover her and she would enter the inn through a different door. She wore a cloak to further disguise her.

The rain wasn't a deluge, but it provided curtains of rain and discouraged the townspeople from coming out. She gave the main entrance a wide berth and approached the solitary building from its back side, facing the marketplace. Rain poured off the roofs, transforming the badly drained streets into rivers. But even with the weather forcing everyone to hunch over as they hurried for shelter, she kept the cowl pulled in close around her head.

She slipped in and gave a quick search of the customers for either of Edvar's men. Feeling better at not seeing them, she lowered her hood and headed for the stairs leading up to the second floor. The sleeping quarters weren't as organized as those in The Winking Skeever: there were closed doors everywhere in whatever space a room could be squeezed into. In one niche, a single candle burned on a table and a woman sat at it.

She was an attractive Imperial, but in a harsh way. Her shallow face and small but pursed lips made her look like she was constantly disappointed. Her eyes were small, dark and beady, but reflected cunningness. She had dark hair with the slightest hint of gray beginning to streak through her hair. Her clothing was exquisite. Everything about her was proper, but her dark aura put off approaching her and expecting a friendly greeting.

Macayla walked toward her, receiving a glare from those sharp eyes. They roamed over her quickly.

"So you're the one. You don't look so impressive." Maven Black-Briar's voice was as condescending as her words.

Already on edge about Edvar's men, her disapproving attitude annoyed Macayla. "How about we skip the conversation?"

Maven's eyebrows rose. "You're a firebrand, aren't you? It's about time Brynjolf sends me someone with business sense. I was beginning to think he ran some beggar's guild down there."

Now she wanted to put down the Guild as they were just now starting to get back to their feet? "You have no faith in the Guild?"

"Faith?" She scoffed. "I don't have faith in anyone. All I care about is cause and effect. Did the job get done and done correctly. There's no gray area."

"You won't have that problem with me."

"I hope not; this is an important job. I have a competitor known as Honningbrew Meadery I want to put out of business. I also want to know how they managed to get the place up and running so quickly."

"So where do I go?"

"Head to The Bannered Mare in Whiterun and speak with Mallus Maccius. He'll fill you in on all the details."

She was done speaking and Macayla was glad to go—the woman, no matter how powerful, was too pompous for her taste. If the Black-Briars weren't just an influential and wealthy family, Macayla would've been tempted to suggest Mercer to cut ties with them.

Macayla donned her hood again as she left The Bee and Barb through the back again. She slipped between buildings to use their alleyways as she headed for Riften's main gate. She never felt the sense of being followed, so she left Riften, hired the carriage, and rode toward Whiterun as quick as she could.