It was long past midnight when I finally made it to the ruins called Snow Veil Sanctum. The aurora danced overhead in bright shades of green and blue. The stars added to the beauty, pinpricks of light in the midst of a black canvas.

By the time I came within sight of the snow-covered crypt, I was soaked through my armor, footsore, and hungry. The chilly wind made me shiver. Part of my Bosmeri blood being dominant meant I lacked the Nordic resistance to the cold. Something that would have been useful right about now.

As I got closer, I noticed some odd shadows sitting close to a snowbank several yards away from the ruins. When I got within a few feet, I realized the shadows were the outlines of a dead horse and someone's tent. Blood pooled around the horse's corpse, and the body was still warm. Freshly slain.

"Good," said a familiar man as I jumped back from the horse. "You're finally here."

I huffed, my breath coming out as a puff of white mist. "Didn't your mother ever teach you it's not nice to sneak up on someone?"

"You'd best keep those elf ears of yours open for danger. If I had been an enemy, you would be dead." He crossed his arms over his chest, tucking his hands under his armpits to keep them warm. "I've scouted the ruins and I am certain that Karliah is inside."

"Did you see her?"

"No, but I found her horse." He kicked the horse's limp tail. "I've taken care of it, and she won't be using it to escape. Let's get moving. I want to catch her inside while she's distracted. Take the lead."

I raised an eyebrow. "You want me to lead?" Was he being serious right now?

His face hardened, as if the cold air froze it that way. "I'm sorry, I was under the impression I was in charge."

"All the more reason for you to take the lead."

"You're leading and I'm following. Does that seem clear to you?"

Oh, how I wanted to say something like, "Sorry. The cold air made me a little deaf in one ear. Can you speak up?" But I pushed that urge deep, deep down and said, "Understood." like a good little thief.

"Just make certain you keep your eyes open. Karliah is as sharp as a blade. The last thing I need is you blundering into a trap and warning her that we're here."

I took my bow off my back and held it in my freezing fist. How I wished for some real gloves right about now. I walked past Mercer and to the ruins, where I descended the spiral stairs leading to the entrance. I came to the door, tried to find a way to get it open, but found no such way. The door was sealed tight.

"What is the hold-up?" Mercer asked as he swaggered down the stairs, as if he had all the time in the world.

"The door. I can't find a way to get it open."

"You can't pick it open?"

I held up one of my shaking, stiff hands. "Not in this weather."

He sighed and pushed past me. "They say these ancient Nordic burial mounds are sometimes impenetrable. This one doesn't look too difficult. Quite simple, really. I don't know what all the fuss is about these locks. All it takes is a little bit of know-how and a lot of skill." He inserted something into the lock. It had to be a lock pick, but it wasn't like any I had ever seen. He twisted the contraption in the lock a few times, then stepped back. "That should do it. After you."

Once he stepped away, the bars keeping the door shut retracted, and I was able to push the door open.

The hall we stepped into was narrow, but warm. My hands were already loosening. I heaved a sigh and pulled my hood down.

Mercer groaned behind me. "The stench in here. This place smells of death."

I snorted, trying hard not to laugh at his stupid remark. "Well, it's a tomb, so...."

I could feel his death glare burning into the back of my head. Funny thing was, I did not care.

I had never been inside an ancient Nordic tomb. For the first few minutes, I did not understand the big fuss about them. They did not seem so bad. They were warm and quiet. Nice place to stay, if you could get past the death smell.

But then I found out why people hated them. They were full of undead warriors.

"Draugr ahead," Mercer said, and I stopped just shy of the next room. He bumped into me, grumbling right in my ear. I tensed.

He chuckled a little. "You should relax. You're too tense to be shooting that bow."

I growled. "Pervert. Let's just keep moving."

I moved away from him, then readied an arrow. In the next room, I spotted one of the decrepit, rotting Draugr dead on the floor. Next to it stood a burial stone, unopened, and no doubt containing another Draugr.

"See that chain?" Mercer's hand slipped over my shoulder and pointed to a pull chain on the wall by the dead Draugr's feet. "Pull it and we can move on."

It was only then that I noticed the metal grate blocking our way to the next room. Arrow still notched, I crept towards the chain, eyes locked on the burial stone. It remained closed, so I pulled the chain and signaled to Mercer. We both kept going, slipping past with no problem.

The next room contained even more burial stones, but they were all empty, and all the Draugr that had been in them were scattered over the floor and stones themselves.

"Karliah always was a nimble minx," Mercer said, more to himself than to me. "Slipping past the Draugr must have been like child's play."

We passed down another hall, which led to a room with a few unopened stones and a spike trap on the far wall.

"Pull that chain and get that gate open. But watch out for the spikes. Karliah undoubtedly reset the traps."

I moved to the chain, pulled it without much thought, then heard Mercer swear. "Are you trying to kill me?!" he whisper-shouted.

I turned to see that he stood only inches from where the spikes had slammed against the wall. He scowled at me, hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of his Dwarven sword.

"Next time, don't stand right there."

"I ought to take your head off for such incompetence."

I clenched my jaw. "I'd like to see you try."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Let's just keep going."

We pressed on in silence. I liked the silence. I had nothing to say to Mercer, anyway. Not after that comment he made about me being too tense earlier. Not after this rumor being spread about us being... together. I did not like him at all. I tolerated him because he was my boss. I had to tolerate him. I wanted to get this mission over with as soon as possible. Get rid of the threat to the Guild, then get back and fix those rumors.

Which would mean talking to Brynjolf first.

I tried not to let my thoughts of Bryn distract me. But it was hard to ignore the raging voices in my head, all of them telling me to forgive that stupid redhead. But even if I forgave him, would he forgive me? I humiliated him in front of the entire Guild. I yelled at him, called him a fool. Slapped him right across his scarred cheek. Would I forgive me for something like that?

"Did you hear me, Femke?"

I shook my head and turned to Mercer. "What?"

He sighed, an exasperated look on his face. "There are tons of Draugr ahead. We can slip past them and go up the stairs leading into the inner sanctum. Or we can take them on. I don't care. I would love to take down a few of them before killing Karliah."

My blood chilled at his tone. He was all too eager to eliminate this woman. Even though she did kill the previous Guild Master and lie to the Guild, someone who was part of an organization that does not kill people should not be so eager to take anyone's life, regardless of how guilty they were.

"Let's just skirt past them." I looked to the stairs he had mentioned. "I don't have that many arrows left, and I would rather save them for our fight against Karliah."

Mercer pursed his lips but nodded. We hugged the edge of the room and managed to sneak past every single one of the Draugr. I pushed an iron door open, then we passed through to the inner sanctum, as Mercer called it.

The faint sounds of burial stones popping open called for my attention, but I ignored them and made a left towards a large grated doorway. I pulled the chain next to the grate, then Mercer and went through. We came to a long, wide hallway filled with carving of sorts on the walls.

I remembered my mother telling me about things like this. She said that every ancient tomb possessed a Hall of Stories. The walls were covered in artwork that told the tale of ages past, of times when Skyrim was nothing but a Nord's land, filled with honor and battle. The Nordic part of me wished we could stay and study these carvings. But the practical thief in me knew we had to keep moving. Karliah could not wait.

When we came to the end of the hall, we found a door with three large rings in the middle. Each ring had a carving set in stone, and at the center of these rings was a circular stone plate with three crudely carved holes in it.

Mercer nodded his head a little and placed a hand on his chin. "Ah, it's one of the infamous Nordic puzzle doors. How quaint. Without the matching claw, they're normally impossible to open. And since I'm certain Karliah did away with it, we're on our own." He stepped closer to the door and pushed something into the center hole in the stone. I could not see what it was, for he was blocking my view. "Fortunately, these doors have a weakness if you know how to exploit it. Quite simple, really. Karliah's close, I'm certain of it. Now let's get moving." The rings in the center all rotated until each carving in the middle bore the symbol of a wolf, then the door began to sink into the floor.

"Be wary. This is the perfect place for an ambush."

I readied my bow, holding one arrow on the string and another in my teeth. This was it. It had to be. I crouched low and began to creep into the snow-filled room. I kept looking around, watching for shifting shadows or any form of movement. I saw none. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and my gut twisted in anticipation. Danger was coming. And it was coming quickly—

Sharp pain pierced through my right shoulder, making me release my bowstring. The arrow that had been nocked shattered as it impacted with the stony floor. The one in my mouth fell out as I let out a silent scream. My legs wavered, my arms fell limply at my sides, and I dropped to my knees. My vision faded in and out. I tried to call to Mercer for help, but my tongue no longer worked. As my eyes grew dark, I fell to the floor, laying sideways and unable to protect myself.

I had no idea how much time had passed before my vision started coming back. Although dim, I could still see two distinct shapes in front of me. One was Mercer. The other a small woman with a bow in her hands. I could not see her face below the shadows of her hood. But I knew it could only be one person: Karliah.

"Do you honestly think your arrow will reach me before my blade finds your heart?" Mercer asked, arms crossed, stance mocking.

"Give me a reason to try," said Karliah. Her voice was laced with venom, with poorly-concealed rage.

"You're a clever girl, Karliah. Buying Goldenglow Estate and funding Honningbrew Meadery was inspired."

"'To ensure an enemy's defeat, you must first undermine his allies.' It was the first lesson Gallus taught us." When she said "Gallus," her tone became soft, mournful.

"You always were a quick study."

She put her bow away then, but I knew she was not relaxing around Mercer. "Not quick enough, otherwise Gallus would still be alive."

Mercer scoffed. "Gallus had his wealth and he had you. All he had to do was look the other way."

"Did you forget the oath we took as Nightingales? Did you expect him to simply ignore your methods?"

"Oath as Nightingales?" "Ignore your methods"?" What in the world does that mean?

I wished my befuddled brain could think faster. But whatever had paralyzed me kept me from thinking clearly.

Arms dropping to his sides, Mercer ripped his sword from his sheath, standing in a battle-ready position. "Enough of this mindless banter! Come, Karliah. It's time for you and Gallus to become reunited."

Instead of pulling out her bow, Karliah took something from the bag at her side. She unstoppered it, held it to her lips, and then—

She vanished in a ball of yellow and blue light.

"I'm no fool, Mercer," said her disembodied voice. "Crossing blades with you would be a death sentence. But I can promise the next time we meet, it will be your undoing."

Mercer groaned in frustration as Karliah's voice faded away. He put his sword back into its sheath, then began to walk towards me.

Get up! Move! You have to!

I tried to move. Tried to do anything. But I could not even wiggle my finger. Could not turn my head. I was trapped within my own body.

By then, Mercer had stopped and knelt in front of me. "How interesting. It's appears Gallus's history has repeated itself. Karliah has provided me the means to be rid of you, and this ancient tomb becomes your final resting place. But do you know what intrigues me the most?" He chuckled and held my chin in his hand. If I could move, I would have bitten his hand. "The fact that this was all possible because of you." He dropped my chin and stood up. Drew his sword again. "Farewell. I'll be certain to give Brynjolf your regards."

Brynjolf. No! I can't! I can't die! I still have to tell him—

But those thoughts vanished when Mercer stabbed his golden blade straight into my chest. White-hot pain ripped through my entire body as he jerked his blade out of me. My vision sparked scarlet, then began to pulse between black and crimson. I could not breathe. Could not see. Could not move.

Oh, Bryn. I am so sorry, I thought as my vision went completely dark. Please forgive me.