Walk in the Shadows

Twelve

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.