The door to the basement of the Anvil lighthouse appeared to be bolted from the inside. Lena could not pick the lock, not even with magic. “It is either a magical lock or… I should wait until someone comes out.”

This was Lena’s plan before she realised that she was being shadowed and tried to lead away the assassins. If it wasn’t for Lucien, she would have been dead… but he happened upon that battle just in time, and now both of them stood on the hill by the Lady Doomstone overlooking the Anvil Bay.

“He must come out of there sooner or later!” Lena was becoming impatient. The lighthouse master did tell her after some persuasion that the tenant was a middle aged man, a mage perhaps, often dressed in a simple black robe. He didn’t even know his name.

“He pays in advance for a year!” The lighthouse master exclaimed. “Every year, without fail! I don’t ask any questions!”

“A Speaker or a Silencer,” Lucien concluded. “He must be among the Black Hand… but at this point it doesn’t matter that much who he is, as long as we find some proof… I know it sounds strange, but I don’t care who it is, as long as our names are cleared, all our names…”

Lena didn’t think it sounded strange, she shared the sentiment. Their exile and persecution had been going on for too long.

They’ve been waiting for several days watching the door, but no one came in or out.

“He might not be there,” Lena mused. “But we still cannot open the door.”

“But last time you watched him, you got shadowed,” Lucien noted. “And before that, when I noticed that substituted scroll, they were watching. We’ll have to bait them, there’s nothing else for it. You stay here and watch. I’ll stir up some fuss.”

“Just try not to die, Speaker,” Lena said in her thoughts as she didn’t dare to say it aloud.

Lucien went to the basement door and knocked. When there was no answer, he banged on the door with his fists, making as much noise as possible. Several fishermen heard him and turned to look. He banged on the door again, then gave up and walked off towards the harbour with several people watching. There he started asking every passer by whether they’d seen a man in a black robe who lived in the lighthouse basement. No one had seen him of course, so Lucien went to the Flowing Bowl, ordered some ale and prepared to wait.

Lena remained by the lighthouse watching the door. She hid in the bushes hoping to blend in sufficiently to remain undetected even without casting any spells. She wore a chameleon ring, it wasn’t powerful enough to conceal her completely, but every little helped, she figured. She sat there for a long time and nothing happened. Her skin started to burn slightly even though she fed just the night before, but being out in the sunlight all day was still going to affect her. She decided to ignore it. Then finally the night fell and she saw a dock hand approach the door and knock softly in a particular pattern. A secret knock. They should have expected it.

The door opened briefly, a scroll was passed through it to the dock hand, and the door was shut again. So the man was inside, she had to assume it was he. The dock hand stashed away the scroll and quickly walked back to the harbour. Had Lucien seen him? Lena wondered. She couldn’t see him in the harbour, but that didn’t mean much. She had to decide what to do, the dock hand was walking fast and would soon vanish from view. On a whim, she decided to follow.

The dock hand walked to the stables by the Northern gate, said a few words to a stable hand whom Lena had never seen before, passed him the scroll, turned around and walked back to the harbour. The stable hand mounted a horse and took off at a gallop. Lena saw Shadowmere following, so Lucien had been watching. She wondered whether he was being led into a trap. She was sure he realised the danger, but like her, he could not just ignore that bait. Everyone was baiting everyone, it seemed, and she wondered who would have the last word, the last move in that chain, and whether there was a way to get ahead and avoid being baited. She couldn’t see such a way.

She turned around and followed the dock hand back to the harbour. He walked to the lighthouse and knocked on the basement door with a different secret knock. The door did not open and he left. “He passed his message,” Lena figured. It also meant that the man in black robe was still inside, and as long as he was inside, Lena could do nothing but wait. The night was still long, but if she were to stay out the following day as well, she had to feed, which meant she had to leave her post again. She hesitated. Ah, but may be there was another way.

…

“Pssst!” Lena had run to the harbour and was now standing by the side entrance of Fo’c’s’le where the dock hand was headed. “Get it here at half price!” She hissed, flashing her thigh. It had been a common enough thing to do, she’d seen it many a time, and indeed the dock hand grinned and turned to look at her. “This way – behind the house!” Lena motioned him to follow and he did, eager to save his money. When they were out of sight of the street, Lena cast a spell. “Come with me, I know a quiet spot,” she said softly.

“Anything you say, darlin’,” the dock hand staggered after her, as if charmed.

“Works every time,” Lena grinned, leading him into a smuggler’s cave nearby and out of sight of the city guard. She wanted to feed, yes, but she also had other plans for him.

Once in the cave, she quickly recast the spell to make sure the charm still held, then gently pushed him against the wall, leaning onto him.

“I’ve seen you around, my handsome,” she said in a low, guttural voice and the man started to drool. “What’ou been up to? The lighthouse is my turf.”

“Is it?” He moaned, his eyes glazing over. “Lucky me.”

“Not been looking for me then?” She said in a clearer voice, and the man looked up.

“I didn’t know!” He cried in his defense. “I been to see the ol’ man.”

“And so I noticed,” she leaned against him a bit closer and felt his hands around her body. No matter. It wouldn’t go much further. “The ol’ man is mine.”

“No, I didn’t come for that, I swear!” The man was getting nervous. “I’d never… No, I just… you know… been looking out for him…”

“Aha…” Lena pushed against him and felt his hand slide up her thigh. She was almost done. “I think you’re lying.” She pushed his hand down again. “I want no competition.”

“No, am not!” The man shook his head vigorously. “Look here – see this?” He produced a scroll, unrolling it under her nose. “That one was his… was supposed to drop it off into one of the fishing barrels… will do it later, it’ll keep… I promise I ain’t no competition for you!” Lena smiled and he dropped the scroll, returning his hands to her body. “I’ll pay you full price…” His hand started wandering up her thigh again, but she pushed it down.

“What barrel?” She leaned into him, breathing into his ear and nibbling it gently.

“The one without the fish…” he moaned and she allowed his hand to go up.

“Good boy…” She bit his neck.

…

Lena had no intention of killing the dock hand. She took enough blood to see her through the following day and left him sleep in the cave. He would not remember her face anyway, he would not remember right what had happened… She took some coin from his purse, undid his trousers, the illusion would be complete. She picked up the scroll and read it. It made no sense, just random words jumbled together, it must have been in code. She tried this and that, but could not figure it out. One word stood out however: Applewatch. She knew it was a Black Hand safehouse near Bruma, Lucien had told her about that. They were planning an ambush, he was in mortal danger. Yet Lena could not leave her post, she could not warn him, she could not come to his aid. She hesitated. Then she sneaked into the Mages Guild library and forged another scroll with all the same words but replacing Applewatch by Weatherleah, a cottage in the Imperial Reserve that she came across in her travels. She didn’t think it would fool anyone, but it was worth a shot. Then she dropped the forgery into the one fishing barrel without the fish.

It was almost dawn when Lena resumed her post in the bushes behind the lighthouse. She stayed there all day, and again her skin started to burn. But then, just after sunset, she heard a faint noise from the door as if someone was undoing the bolts… She quickly cast invisibility and approached. The door opened, the man in black robe looked out, saw nothing, then went outside, pulling the door shut after him. The lock clicked but Lena had already slipped inside. She could only hope that Lucien would survive that trap on his own.

The basement of the lighthouse was a shrine. It was a place of madness, that much was clear. There were papers everywhere, Dark Brotherhood contracts, copied, altered. She found a journal too – the man was a Speaker. She gathered what she could and slipped out again before the man returned. She didn’t think he’d return too soon anyway, she expected he’d have gone to Applewatch to see to his trap. She wanted to rush there too but her task was not yet done – the Listener had to have her report, had to see the proof, that was most important of all. “Our names have to be cleared,” Lucien made a point of it earlier. “Regardless of whether I fall or not. You must go to the Listener first, no matter what happens.” He had expected a trap, and was prepared to be the bait so that she could clear all their names… She took a deep breath and rode to Bravil.

In Bravil she had to find a way to deliver her evidence without being seen, after all, she was still exiled for her transgressions, with a death sentence hanging over her head. If the Listener saw her, he would likely attack, and she had no illusions of not being able to stand against him.

She spent the day in her house writing her report. She included a number of scrolls and a diary, but she couldn’t bring it all, the Listener would have to see the room in the lighthouse for himself to judge the sheer scale of that madness. She wrote it all. Then she slipped into his house during the night and left it on the table. But would he act on that? She had to be sure, and that meant losing more time, waiting to see what would happen.

The Listener didn’t disappoint, and Lena saw two Brothers leaving his house with her scroll in hand. They mounted their horses and rode towards Anvil, and Lena mounted hers and sped towards Bruma, praying to Arkay that she wasn’t too late.