Chapter Text
Talmeni wasn’t sure how much of her experience had been a dream. She’d had nightmares from bad skooma before, and she knew it could make you see things, even remember things, which hadn’t happened, and make you forget things that had. Sometimes it was better not to know.
She felt pretty certain she’d gone to that new skooma den she’d heard about, because Indaryn had just fired her for missing several days of work. She also remembered trekking out there, and stumbling back, or at least part of it. She’d woken up in the Treva river, and wasn’t sure how she had ended up there. On the way out, she’d not followed the river, she was pretty certain. Maybe she had fallen down a hill and hit her head.
The skooma den itself, she was less sure about. It had been hazy. Maybe it was because she’d smoked the skooma, instead of drinking it straight. It had felt like old times, although Talmeni wasn’t sure when those old times had been. It had probably been before she had crossed the border, but past that point she’d given up trying to recall. Then again, that she had smoked might just have been a random memory brought back by the red haze in the air.
She wasn’t sure who had given her the first sample of that red skooma and told her where to find the den. Maybe it had been Brynjolf, or Sarthis. That first hit certainly had her wanting more, which explained why she had headed out into the hills like that. The dealer there had been so nice as to give her a second free sample, probably. If she remembered correctly, it hadn’t been Sarthis, after all, he’d cut her off because she couldn’t pay, and that meant she also couldn’t have paid for the new skooma. At any rate, her pockets were currently empty.
Even if the red fog and the smoking had been real, the rest had to have been a dream. Admittedly, maybe somebody had entered her booth while she’d been watching the drifting smoke, but that bite had to have been a hallucination. The same about the weird spring or fountain she’d seen for a moment. After all, water couldn’t be red. And it wasn’t like that memory connected to anything before and after, although given that she’d made the return trip in a single day, she was missing at least two day’s worth of time. Who knew what had happened at that point. The first sample of that Redwater skooma had her out for a few hours, but maybe it was different smoked. Or maybe it had been a different batch.
For now, she tried to recall the last few minutes. There had been Indaryin, berating her. Parts of his speech were already slipping from her memory. But she was sure it had happened recently, even though she also remembered having heard him talk to her like that before. But being fired was new. Then he’d had her thrown out violently by Ungrien and Romlyn. There had been a bit in between that was a bit hazy. She’d threatened him, probably. Yes, her dagger was over there in the dirt, instead of its sheath, which meant she’d gestured with it.
They had thrown her out on the lake side of the meadery, because what she was lying on were dirty wooden boards, and she could hear and smell the water. It wasn’t as insistent an impression as the sun, though. Even with her eyes closed and looking away, it felt like it was glaring through her skull and into her eyeballs. It had to be a side effect from the skooma, just like her aching teeth. She couldn’t remember being punched in the mouth. While she’d gotten sensitive to light from alcohol hangovers, this was the first time she got it from a skooma down. Or maybe withdrawal, she wasn’t sure how to tell the difference.
She really needed another hit. Or at least something to eat. And some sleep. She felt tired, more tired than she expected. After all, she hadn’t worked at all today, just gotten shouted at and then thrown out. Maybe she just couldn’t remember struggling. But that didn’t matter, if she didn’t need to work, she could certainly take some time to rest. But first, she needed to do something about her growling stomach. Picking up her knife, Talmeni got to her knees and staggered towards the stairs back into the city.
A few minutes later, she found herself sitting on the stairs down to the canal, chewing on some wrinkled and limp carrots. Marise had given them to her, she managed to recall, even though she hadn’t paid. Something about these being about to be thrown away anyway. Talmeni didn’t mind. She couldn’t recall her meals, and would probably forget about this one in a moment. It wasn’t like she could even taste anything about the carrots.
Suddenly she was falling down the stairs, tumbling awkwardly and limply, unable to deal with the sudden change. As she came to rest against a few barrels on the wooden walkway above the stagnant canal, she managed to recall that somebody had kicked her, hard. Probably the one coming down the stairs after her. Talmeni tried to draw her knife, but it didn’t do any good. Somebody had grabbed her by the throat and was pressing her against the barrels. It was one of the guards.
“Threatening innocent people, were we?”, he asked with a sarcastic voice.
Talmeni tried to say something. It was hard, her head was swimming after that tumble, the sun was glaring at her even down here, and she was trying to remember where her knife had ended up. “My back. It hurts”, she managed, and after a moment of thought added: “Let go.”
“And worse, you held up business at the Black-Briar meadery”, the guard continued, as if she hadn’t said anything. Maybe she hadn’t, it was hard to remember which words were in her head and which were out loud. “Maven doesn’t like that at all.”
There were more things the guard said, about dirt in the city, and something about resisting arrest. Talmeni was sure she had missed something important, because suddenly the guard was a step away from her, and she had her knife in her hand. And he was drawing his sword.
He was going to kill her, she realized. Fragments of memory came together, making her notice just how stupid she had been. The Riften meadery paid well enough, but stepping out of line meant you upset a woman who had the city guard in her pocket and didn’t show mercy. And Talmeni had threatened Indaryn, the manager of the meadery. She’d even said something about his relationship with Haelga, if her memory wasn’t mistaken. And now she was being turned into an example for the rest of the city.
“Don’t kill me”, she shouted in panic, throwing her arms in front of her to hold of the approaching man. Somehow, the words tingled in her mind, and then her hands. And then, for no reason she could see, the guard stopped, sword raised above his head.
“On second thought”, he continued slowly, as if trying to recall something explained to him carefully, “I’ll let you live. You can, yes, beg in the streets. Much better as a punishment. You’ll never work in this town again.” By the end of the sentence, his arrogant tone was back, and while he put his sword away, he gave her a nudge with his steel boot that hurt quite a bit, before turning around and stomping up the old stairs.
Talmeni slumped against the barrels. Now she really wanted to sleep. And there had been something else. She looked around, trying to remember what she had held in her hand before the dagger. Maybe it had been food, but there was nothing visible nearby.
She jerked up, wondering how it had become so dark. It had to be sunset, so maybe she had dozed off. From what she could see, she at least hadn’t moved, and nobody else had bothered her. Her back hurt, from the falling and the barrels, and she had been sitting strangely. It was probably best if she went to bed. As best she could remember, there should still be a bed for her in the bunkhouse, because you paid for entire weeks. Talmeni thought she could remember paying before she left for the Redwater den.
Somehow, she got up the stairs, into the bunkhouse and even into bed, although she couldn’t remember how. It was night-time now, and there had been more than just the movement. She could call up the face of Niluva, one of the other Dunmer working at the brewery. Talmeni wasn’t sure if she had tried to talk to her, or the other way round, but Niluva hadn’t been happy about something. Probably it had been related to the scene at the brewery. Niluva hadn’t been among those that had thrown her out, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been around.
Now, however, the other woman was in bed, sleeping. Talmeni was trying to sleep, too, but it was hard. She felt thirsty, even though she was pretty sure she had drunk already several times from the water barrel in the hall. Worse, she didn’t feel tired. After the entire day of being exhausted and hurting, that was unfair. She tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. It also was too bright and loud. There was no candle burning, and the windows were small and dirty, letting in little moonlight, but somehow Talmeni could still see all the other sleepers, and hear their heartbeats.
This was getting too strange, she decided. She needed skooma. It wouldn’t help her find sleep, but it would make things easier. She didn’t have any worries on skooma. Either enthusiasm or apathy, but never any worry. After this day full of worry and change, she really needed something to set her head straight. That was probably why she was thirsty, because she hadn’t had a hit in several days, and her throat was craving it.
Thankfully, she wasn’t the only addict in the bunkhouse. There was Wujeeta, who now worked at the fishery, and who drank the stuff close to religiously. And of course Niluva, who tried not to show it, but couldn’t stop herself from having a dose every week. And while Talmeni’s stores were depleted, she knew the other two kept stashes of skooma close by.
Quietly, Talmeni got up from her bed and walked over to where the other Dunmer woman was sleeping. She didn’t even stir when Talmeni stood above her. So helpless, Talmeni thought, not sure why. For a moment, she stared at Niluva’s bare neck, before remembering herself. She wanted skooma, and that was under the bed. She knelt down and groped around under the crude bedstead, hoping the noise was masked my Tythis’s snoring from the other room. However, kneeling brought her even close to Niluva’s neck and its gently pulsing vein. She wondered what Niluva’s insides tasted like, and noticed her half-open mouth was drooling
Thankfully, her hand closed around a small bottle in that moment, and Talmeni crept away quickly. This was all too strange. Good thing she had skooma now, as clearly the world went mad without it. And that was good, reliable product from Morrowind, even if watered down, not whatever strange thing they brewed up in the Redwater den.
And now she was on her bed, smiling, the empty bottle dropping from her fingers. This was the true life, happy and carefree, when you could do anything you wanted, when the colors shone and every sound was music. Now she was alive, when the sweet drops tingled in the throat, like a symphony written just for her, using and transforming the world.
Maybe it hadn’t been a full bottle. Niluva tried to keep the dosage small, Talmeni managed to recall as her thoughts swung by before she focused on the ceiling again, realizing just how many colors there were there, in what others just called darkness, a whole palette of hues she didn’t have names for, but that she really wanted to name all, and write it in a book.
Of course, for that she needed more skooma, to properly see them, and that needed money, and she needed a job for that, but that wouldn’t be a problem, because after all Bolli at the fishery had taken Wujeeta, so he would certainly also take Talmeni. She was halfway out of bed before remembering it was night, and there was no point. The secret, hidden colors of the darkness danced before her again, so she probably had laid back down.
Talmeni felt like she was watching herself from the outside for a moment, and wondered why. Things didn’t feel right, despite clouds of happiness filling her mind from the skooma. As she drifted, she kept bouncing into sharp thoughts, remembering and wondering. That half-bottle she’d drunk wasn’t enough to properly lift her up, not after that hard-hitting red version. She needed a proper hit, but getting up was too much effort and worry, and who needed worry, when the world was so wonderful and clear? And she was a hero, a goddess, who could only smile benevolently at the toils of lesser mortals, with bent backs and sorrowful minds, who closed their hearts to the wonders of moon sugar and all its miracles …
“Sleeping in, I see?”, somebody asked her. Talmeni jerked up from her bed, then had to shield her eyes as the sun almost blinded them. She tried to take stock. There had been bad things happening. Losing her job, she managed to recall. And there had been a guard in there somewhere. But that had been yesterday. Just now, there had been Svana, talking to her. That hadn’t been bad, probably, although she might have mentioned that rent was due. The rest had just been concern about Talmeni sleeping in and looking pale. But now that was in the past, and Talmeni was standing in the market, still trying to shield her eyes from the sun.
It looked like almost noon. She must have indeed slept in. She couldn’t remember when the skooma had worn off, but usually she could get up fine afterwards. But today, she felt tired. She hadn’t done anything, at least nothing worth remembering, and already wanted to sleep again. Maybe it was because she hadn’t eaten enough, although she wasn’t sure if she had. It was hard to say if she’d eaten less over the last few days, because she couldn’t remember how much she’d eaten before. Skooma was enough to keep her going.
The front desk of the meadery was in front of her, and behind it stood Ungrien as usual. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be here”, he said, hesitantly.
Talmeni stopped, and thought why he would say that. “Right. Fired”, she recalled after a while. “I’m sorry?”, she added after a long pause in which she tried to remember how to ask to have a second chance.
“You should be, after what you did yesterday. I’m amazed you’re still alive.” Talmeni hoped he would explain what he meant, but Ungrien apparently expected her to understand.
She considered things, and managed to recall something that seemed relevant. “There was a guard.”
“Probably sent by Maven. Look, I don’t want any trouble with her, so just go away, please.”
“But…” Talmeni felt strange again for a second, as something tingled within her as she tried to convince him to let her work here again. She waited, confused, until that strange feeling had gone away. “I need money. By work.” That didn’t seem enough, so after a moment she added for emphasis: “Here.”
“No, not here. We’ll both end up at the bottom of the lake if I let you in here again.”
And then the door of the meadery slammed shut behind her again. Talmeni wondered about it, it seemed familiar. It happened before, recently. But this time, she was on the city side and was standing. But she still needed skooma. And something against the sun. It was lower now, but still too bright.
As she walked around, she tried to think, despite her tiredness. What was the next step? Sarthis sold skooma, she needed some. She wasn’t sure if it was the right day, but the warehouse was right there. No wait, she had no money. There was this other thing she needed to do. Right, working. She needed to find work. There were not many places, and most belonged to Maven Black-Briar. There had been one that didn’t, she remembered thinking about it recently, but now she couldn’t remember. Some skooma would help her recall, but she couldn’t have any.
She took a nap, near the Talos shrine, hoping it helped. The sun was gone when she got up, and that surprised her. That hadn’t just been a nap, but full sleep. She hadn’t meant to, but apparently the day had been so tiring she had needed it. Now, she felt awake and refreshed.
The twilight deepened, and the light faded from the world. Not, however, the colors. Talmeni looked around in wonder, at how the world looked in shadow. It was so colorful, even without skooma. It was different from the colors of the day, with so different hues and impressions. Flowers that were a wide palette during the day looked like a drab tangle, while stone and earth that were just gray in the sunlight turned into fantastically marbled sights.
But she was thirsty, really thirsty. A guard walked past, and she just stared at their neck, thinking about their veins. That wasn’t a normal thirst. Maybe it was about blood. She took out her knife and experimentally cut herself in the finger and licked at it. There was very little blood coming from the wound, but it tasted nice. But she felt even thirstier now, and drooled uncontrollably.
That was the last straw. She needed another bottle of skooma, she couldn’t think like this. Even if it wasn’t the Redwater version, another dose would stop these cravings. Hopefully, Niluva could spare another bottle. Once Talmeni was well again, she could pay the woman back.
It was hard to wait until it was late enough and Niluva would have finished her meal and fallen asleep in the bunkhouse. Talmeni felt full of energy, despite her aching teeth and hurting head. To pass time, she did whatever she could think of. She took out her knife and watched the blade glint in the moonlight. She walked over towards the market and listened to the sounds of revelry coming from the Bee and Barb. For a moment, she followed a guard in their round, flitting from shadow to shadow after them, unnoticed.
There was a strange feeling in all this. She felt like being outside. Far away from normal people, normal concerns. Watching the world through a looking glass. Sometimes, she had felt like this when smoking good skooma. But she hadn’t taken any yet. She was sure of that.
As Talmeni sat at the well in the middle of the market and threw pebbles down to hear the faint, echoing plunks as they hit the water, she spotted Wujeeta, out and about unusually late. It didn’t take her long to know what the Argonian was doing, quietly closing the door to the docks behind her and disappearing in the narrow alley between the Pawned Prawn and the Bee and Barb. Especially not when she was clutching a satchel like that.
This was also good, and Talmeni jumped up. She could also pay back Wujeeta, it didn’t matter. And the skooma was right there, not hidden or anything. Quickly, she circled around the Bee and Barb on the other side, and caught the Argonian on the bridge of the canal.
“You are up late”, Wujeeta said when she noticed Talmeni walking next to her. Instinctively, she pulled the satchel a bit closer to her chest.
“Sarthis. He gave you skooma?” Talmeni stumbled, as trying to walk and talk was difficult while being tortured with the prospect of skooma. She could almost taste that sweetness already.
“I, yes”, Wujeeta said guiltily. “I tried. But I needed another.”
Talmeni placed herself in front of the Argonian. “I need some too. Give me.”
Wujeeta was shivering, and Talmeni could hear her heart beat. So fast, so frightened. “Your eyes”, the Argonian woman managed, “So hungry.” And she kept also staring down from time to time. Talmeni followed her gaze. She had taken out her knife without realizing.
This wasn’t what she had meant. Talmeni put the knife away and tried to say things differently. “Will you share? I’m a friend.”
That didn’t seem to be enough, as Wujeeta just stood there, not moving, not answering.
Talmeni tried again, trying to think through her thirst and her cravings. “Please, share”, she managed, holding out her hand. The words tingled in her mind, and in some invisible way, jumped from her hand over to the Argonian.
Without saying much, Wujeeta loosened her grip on the bag. Her movements were jerky, almost hesitant, and her eyes strangely blank, as she took four of the small bottles and pressed them into Talmeni’s hands.
And then it was noon again. Talmeni tried to pierce together what happened, even though her entire body felt hurt by the blazing sun, and her head was swimming and skipping. The skooma had taken its price. It had probably been fun, if she managed to remember. And to tell what had been real.
After that meeting with Wujeeta, she must have drunk at least one full bottle, maybe two. It hadn’t calmed her at all. She managed to recall some running, and leaping. And maybe swimming. For certain, a body had splashed into water. It had helped with the thirst for certain. Talmeni felt much calmer now, and her teeth had stopped hurting.
There was one memory that was worrying her. Or rather, the fragments. It wasn’t enough to paint a full picture. It was like what happened out in the Redwater den. They had to be visions, false memories. She wished it was easier to tell. What she remembered was a neck, and her knife being covered in blood. Also a staggering shape in the darkness. It hadn’t been Wujeeta, though. Probably. And Talmeni had licked her knife, for some reason. It was maybe better not to ask. Too many things were logical on skooma, and not afterwards.
Carefully, Talmeni tried to probe her recent memory, to find out how she had ended up here. Here, in this case, being the lower level of the dock walkways, somewhere behind the meadery. She’d run here after something, some kind of thought. It had already been day at that point. She’d slept in between, or at least that made the most sense. Otherwise, there was a very big gap she was missing. And she hadn’t slept in the bunkhouse. Maybe because it had been too late. Or maybe because she’d been too tired to reach it when the skooma wore off.
Slowly, the missing bits of her awakening came back. There had been blood. On the knife, on her hands, on her clothes. And she’d run here to hide, to wash it off unseen. Talmeni looked at her dripping hands. It had washed off the skin, but there were still brown stains on her sleeves. She tried to tell herself it was just mud. She didn’t want those night-images to be real.
Slowly, her knife at the ready, she stepped out of her hiding place. After having seen the colors of the night, the day world looked like a bad painting to her. In the light of the sun, it was all just shapes and contours, drawn in just blinding whiteness and feeble darkness, trying to hold on. It was not so bad that she couldn’t see, but she felt limited, downright fumbling, as she navigated up the rickety stairs.
Talmeni let her feet do whatever as she tried to get her memories back together. The present skipped and skidded as she tried to get a grasp on the past. One moment, she was on the docks, the next, she was in the market, and then, in another, she was standing on one of the bridges over the canal. She didn’t care. What was important was that she remembered not to try to go to work in the meadery again. She’d been thrown out, twice. To earn money, she had to try somewhere else. Bolli, she thought. He’d taken Wujeeta in. It felt like a familiar thought, so she had probably considered him before. However, she couldn’t remember acting on it.
On the steps back out of the city, towards the fishery at the docks, the memories of her amble over the market caught up with her. Some people had greeted her, some others kept their distance. And then, there had been a shout, and everyone rushing to look. Something in the canal. The guards had found a body, and pulled him out of the water. Talmeni shook her head. Not important. Not relevant. It couldn’t have been her. What was important was getting a new job.
Inside the fishery, with the small window letting in only little light, Talmeni felt a lot better. She could see more, and some of the exhaustion and tiredness went away. Wujeeta ambled past, and Talmeni felt relieved. However, she said nothing, just kept going to the office on the far side.
In there sat Bolli, writing something in his books. He looked up as she approached. “Mara’s blessing be upon you”, he said automatically.
Talmeni had to pause to think, but then remembered. “Three blessings”, she said politely.
The fisherman looked her up and down. “It looks like the gods have not been kind to you. You should visit the temple, Maramal will surely help.”
She shook her head. It wasn’t gods she needed right now. Her hand idly tapped against the pocket of her ragged trousers, causing two small skooma bottles to clink. It brightened her up. She would be fine. “I don’t want gifts”, she managed to say towards Bolli, “But work. From you.”
Now he shook his head, gently. “I had expected that, after hearing what happened to you. And in different circumstances, you could certainly work here. But I can’t endanger my other workers.”
“I’m not. Not a danger.” Talmeni tried to hide the stains on her sleeves.
“Maybe, but you angered Maven Black-Briar. When I heard somebody was found dead in the canal, I expected it to be you, and thank Mara it wasn’t. She won’t forgive you for how you threatened everyone in the meadery.”
“I…. Please.” She tried to find words, to somehow get her thoughts lined up enough to explain. But all she found was darkness. If Bolli didn’t take her, nobody would. He was the forgiving one.
“All I can offer is some coin so that you can buy yourself some food. You look ashen.”
“Please”, Talmeni repeated, trying to move the word into his head like she had done with Wujeeta, and the guard. Slowly, she could feel the tingle begin. “Anything”, she said, “Any work.” It felt weak, and she wasn’t sure if it had even been enough to jump from her fingers.
Bolli paused, and looked around. “There is”, he said, slowly, in a strange tone, “Yes, there is something you can do for me. And it could give you a fresh start, somewhere far away from the Black-Briar family.”
Talmeni watched numbly as the Nord started to go through his papers. He was explaining something, but it sounded technical, and it had a hard time getting past her anxiety. Could he really help?
It was only at the end of his explanation that she managed to focus on the present again. “Bring this to Kleppr in the Silver-Blood Inn in Markarth, and he’ll pay you his part of the fee”, Bolli explained, while pushing a sealed envelope and a small purse of gold coins into her hands.
“Markarth”, Talmeni repeated, trying to commit his instructions into memory.
“It’s at the other end of Skyrim, in the Reach. You can take a carriage there.”
“I know. I think.” She had heard of the city before. It was very far away. Maybe that was why Bolli wanted to send her there.
“Where will you take this?”, Bolli asked with a harder voice.
Talmeni glared at him. “Kleppr. Silver-Blood Inn. Markarth. Reach. With carriage. I’m not stupid.” She tried to push away her thoughts of biting him.
He glanced at her hand, which had wandered to the sheath of her knife without her noticing. “No offense. You did just look a bit absent.”
“I’m fine.” She moved her hand off the knife hilt and into her pocket, closing around the bottles of skooma. As long as she had some, she would be fine.
The conversation went on a bit longer, but it didn’t stick to her mind. She managed to recall only that after it, she went out to the stables and had a talk with Shadr there about the carriages. “Markath, you said?”, he explained, “You’ll have to take the carriage to Whiterun from here. There should be another that takes you the rest of the way there. I think it takes about a week in total, although between the civil war and the dragons, who knows.”
“This one?”, Talmeni asked, pointing at the wagon standing in the yard of the stables. There was no horse hitched to it, but there were several waiting in the stalls.
“Yes, but it’s not leaving today. Sigaar always leaves at sunrise, early in the morning.”
“That works.” Given how awake she always was during the night, Talmeni was sure she could manage to stay up until sunrise. Especially if she used the rest of today to have a nap. She did feel dead tired, after so much talking.
There was one more thing she wanted to know, however. “How much? In gold.”
Shadr shrugged. “The fare itself is twenty septims, but you’ll have to pay for lodgings in between. I would guess maybe a hundred in total?”
Talmeni had a look into the bag that Bolli had given her, and counted. It looked something like two hundred septims total, so the journey would cost her about half of it. The other half, maybe she could turn it into skooma. Except, it was the wrong day. Sarthis had sold to Wujeeta yesterday, so it would be another week until she could get some from him. And the Redwater den was too far away. She would just have to stretch what she had.
Thanking Shadr, she wandered back into the city, looking for a place to sleep. There was no point in renewing her rent in the bunkhouse if she was leaving tomorrow. Besides, the bunkhouse was bright and lively. Right now, Talmeni wanted quiet and darkness, someplace far away from the sun. Maybe down in the sewers, in the Ratway.
She circled the market, staying on the far side of the canal, away from all the people and noise, and then took the stairs down to the water level. There was an entrance around somewhere. After a moment, she found the old, rotten door with the brick tunnel behind it, and went inside. The walls were damp, and the air smelled of rotting flesh and skeever droppings, but Talmeni’s spirits lifted. There was no light, just the dark, damp tunnels, winding away in the distance. It was perfect. She wandered until she found a small dead end branching off, and sat down with her back to the bare stone and closed her eyes.
It didn’t feel like much later when she was woken up by somebody grabbing her. Talmeni reacted by instinct, before she even had taken in the situation. Somebody held her right hand, but she grabbed her dagger with the left, twisted upright, stabbed at the shape in front of her and jumped back as it cursed and left go.
“Doesn’t look dead to me”, a voice commented sarcastically. Talmeni took in the scene. Two people were standing in front of her, blocking the way out. One she recognized as Maul, who did things for Maven Black-Briar. Nobody ever spelled out what things. People just kept their head down when he came to the meadery. The other, she didn’t know, but there was a family resemblance to Maul. That was the one she had cut into the arm with her wild maneuver.
“You can have the next go”, the wounded man said, rubbing his arm, “Shor’s balls she’s fast.”
Maul stepped forward, keeping his eye on Talmeni’s knife. She had been lucky it hadn’t been him grabbing her, as he wore armor. Her little iron blade would have done nothing against that. “Stay away”, she warned, knowing it was an empty threat.
“You still owe Maven for that shit you pulled in the meadery”, Maul said, stepping closer, “And if you pull any more tricks, you’ll just make it worse for yourself.”
“I’m leaving”, Talmeni said, “I’m no more trouble.” Old memories came back. She’d killed people of Maul’s stature. But from behind, in the dark, unnoticed, like Mephala commanded. But with him in front of her, there was little she could do.
“Fine by me. You got damned lucky, girl, because I’ll make you a deal.” Maul stepped closer, close enough that she could have stabbed him. But with his friend standing over there, hand on his dagger, it would be suicide.
“What deal?”, she asked, not lowering the knife. Maybe she could slip between the two, if she got them to flinch with some feints. But listening seemed a better plan.
“I’ve got a message I’m supposed to deliver to Markarth, and with the war going on, my usual courier has done a runner. You deliver that message for me, and I’ll keep mum with Maven. Tell her you’ve been dealt with.”
Talmeni offered a silent prayer to Azura, for that bit of luck. “I do it”, she said quickly.
“Good.” He pushed a sealed cylinder into her chest, then let go. Talmeni managed to catch it awkwardly while Maul continued: “Mess this up, and she’ll have the Dark Brotherhood after you. And they won’t be as stupid as Dirge here about noticing who’s just playing dead.”
“For who is it?”, she asked, trying to look at the missive cylinder while not loosing track of Maul, who still stood dangerously close.
“Thonar Silver-Blood. Make sure it gets to him personally.” When she nodded, Maul stepped back. “Good. And stay out of Riften once you’re done, because I damn sure won’t risk my neck for you. You’re dead around here, got it?”
“Got it.” She put the cylinder away, but kept the knife ready until Maul and Dirge had left. She noticed they didn’t head towards the exit she’d come in. Probably headed for the Thieves guild. Everyone said they lived down here, somewhere in the sewers. Talmeni, not being stupid, didn’t follow.
Instead, she went out on the city side, to check the time. There was a faint glow still on the horizon over the lake, with the Throat of the World a large triangular shadow in the twilight. An hour after sunset, Talmeni guessed. The stars were just coming out, and the colors of the night recovered from the glare of day. It was rather beautiful, and Talmeni watched for a while, until the last shreds of red had disappeared and the land was dark and silent.
The nap, even if it had been interrupted, had done miracles. She felt awake, more awake than ever before. And stronger. Probably, whatever weird illness she had picked up in the Redwater den had worn off. If it had been an illness, and not whatever they had cut their skooma with.
For a moment, her hand went to the skooma in her pocket. A hit would make her feel even better, but she stopped herself. The last two times, she had not woken up until noon, and tonight, she had to be up at sunrise for certain. It was better to just stay sharp, even if the knowledge that the skooma was right there was driving her crazy.
Remembering Maul’s warning, she did not go back up to the market. While the sun was down, the drinking in the Bee and Bard could keep going until midnight, and she didn’t want to be seen by any patrons going home.
Instead, she wandered around the Ratway, carefully and silently, exploring it curiously. She had stayed away from it in the past, however long that had been. People generally did. Only the criminal and the insane, it was said, had their home in the Ratway. She wasn’t sure about the insanity, but there certainly were other people around, having arranged little living areas here and there in the darkness. Talmeni watched them for a while, but didn’t stick around. While the darkness hid her from view, she could still make a noise, and right now she didn’t want to be found.
After a while, she returned to her little dead end near the entrance, and sat back down. She felt a bit strange, out of sorts. She could remember too much, if that made sense. After a life of skooma, which mercifully blotted out the past, it was a bit frightening. While so far, it was just vague hunches, little more than hints that there were memories, the knowledge that these old things were still around made her anxious. Skooma, however bad you felt after, was good in reducing life to the moment, something Talmeni thought was for the best.
Her teeth worried her, too. They didn’t ache, not any more, but when she felt them with her tongue, they felt unusual. The canines were very long and sharp, something she couldn’t remember being the case before. Of course, she could be wrong. Her memory was not the best reference place.
The night was long, and Talmeni did not spend all of it with introspection. When she guessed midnight to be past, she went outside, if only to get some fresh air and to stretch her legs. She ambled aimlessly around the sleeping city, feeling strange as she realized that all around her, people were sleeping, protected by nothing more than a few tumblers in their locks and some patrolling guards, who saw nothing beyond the feeble range of their torchlight. Talmeni could have entered any house she chose and done whatever she wanted. That thought made her feel like being outside again, separated from normal life by a wall of glass, through which she watched people with detached interest.