Karliah had never felt more paranoid, even when she was running for her life because of Mercer Frey using the Guild to hunt her down and kill her. Then, she knew how to recognize danger by identifying a Guild member; now, she wasn't sure she could look at anybody and rely on them not to tell dremora if tortured for information about sightings of them.

Fortunately, she had never had to meet a dremora, but she didn't know what to expect; the scarce writings described them as being red and black-skinned, with sharp horns and pointed ears; deep voices twisted by their guttural language; tall, broad, and either expert magic-wielders or deadly fighters driven by bloodlust. She didn't know if they could hide in plain sight, become invisible, or manipulate minds into not seeing them. With magic-wielders, one never knew. One thing all the writings agreed on: dremora were heartless, slaughtering any who crossed them.

Her eyes shot to every tree, bush, or boulder to come in sight as they made their way to Mount Kilkreath to Meridia's Temple; she looked for any anomaly, any color that didn't belong in nature, any form hiding. Quite a few times, Karliah nearly jumped out of her skin when a deer suddenly looked up or a fox shot out of some underbrush.

When they left Riften, they had decided to avoid roads—they were less likely seen walking through the wilderness; they would also refrain from going into any type of settlement—they would make camp away from civilization. They might send one into town to pick up any rumors concerning dremora sightings. So far, they had only seen wildlife; no sign of dremora.

Throughout the journey to Mount Kilkreath near Solitude, it was quiet amongst the Nightingale Trinity. The married couple behind her didn't say much, other than a few brief comments to her or to each other. Macayla's and Brynjolf's eyes were probably just as jumpy as hers. Their thoughts were probably on Aadalyn and what they could do to keep their daughter safe.

Nocturnal being back in Macayla didn't help, either. She really hoped the Daedric Lord's presence wouldn't put strain on their connection; Macayla and Brynjolf were meant to be together.

***

When they stopped for the third night, Mount Kilkreath was a two-day journey away. Since they were now in Haafingar Hold, Macayla directed them up into the mountains to what she considered a safer location to make camp: no one passing by would be able to see their campfire, sabre cats and bears wouldn't be able to sneak up on them, and they had a way out if something breached their camp.

After a small and quick meal, Karliah took the first watch—Macayla had taken the first night and Brynjolf the next. The married couple quickly fell asleep, Macayla tucked securely into Brynjolf's side.

She watched them sleep, a sad longing stretching her soul, which turned into guilt. Many times, it hurt seeing them together, since it made her remember her time with Gallus. She sorely missed him—his smile, the softness of his voice, his arms around her...

She pulled her legs in and wrapped her arms around her knees. Karliah couldn't be resentful of her friends for their love, but she wished she had what they did.

***

Mount Kilkreath was a crumbling ruin: the stone was cracked, arches had fallen, and weeds sprung through the cracks. An enormous statue of a winged-woman stood at the top, her arms reaching toward the sky and hands looking like they held the sun. Meridia.

They headed up the flights of stairs to reach the top; her gigantic form had to rise at least 30 feet above them and at her feet sat a pedestal, like it used to hold something.

Macayla huffed. "Great; her beacon's gone." Her voice was heavy with irritation and power—Nocturnal.

Brynjolf looked at her. "And what's that?"

"The only way for mortals to commune with her; she won't talk to us without it. She's... particular about it."

So were you with your Key, Karliah thought. "What are we going to do? We can't go running all across Skyrim in hopes of finding it."

"What are you doing, lass?" Brynjolf asked when Macayla walked toward the empty pedestal.

"I'm going to see where it is."

She kneeled before the pedestal, placed her hands on it, and bowed her head. Macayla's form grew darker as black wisps came off her body and dispelled into the air. Brynjolf worriedly began to go to her, but Karliah held him back.

After a few seconds, the wisps disappeared and Macayla lifted her head. "It's in a cave three miles from here; the chest is only guarded by five bandits." She stood to rejoin them.

"How do you know that, lass?"

"I can follow the trail of an item that's been stolen; the beacon has passed through many hands, but now that group of bandits have it. Come on." She turned for the stairs; they were right behind her.

***

As Nocturnal had seen, there was a bandit hideout stashed away in a cave three miles from them. The cave opened onto a small lake; they had to wade through waist-deep water to enter, but the Nightingales easily did since there were no lookouts. The hole they came into was filled with crates and barrels holding various food items; in front of them was a small waterfall as the water running down the tunnel met the lake. A wooden ramp led up out of the water to other planks, making a walkway across the slippery stones.

They ascended to find the planks ending at the start of the tunnel; a steady stream of water bubbled passed them. Macayla and Karliah went ahead and notched an arrow in their bows; Brynjolf already had one dagger in hand, but now unsheathed the other one. Once they were ready, Brynjolf took the lead.

After rounding a corner and sneaking down the long tunnel, they finally caught sight of bandits: two men walked toward them. Macayla quickly took sight and Karliah did the same beside her—if they didn't kill them now, they would be seen and raise the alarm. The bows twanged consecutively and the speeding arrows found their marks in the bandits' necks; they instantly dropped dead.

A man suddenly called out in surprise and they heard wood creaking as a heavy form moved. The bandit they heard appeared out of an opening just in front of the shot men. Karliah quickly readied another arrow, but Brynjolf hurled a dagger at the bandit and took off running. The blade sank into the man's back; he stumbled and cried out in pain. Just as he turned to see where the dagger came from, Brynjolf reached him and drove his other dagger into his gut. He gurgled but quickly died; he slumped to the ground.

Karliah and Macayla walked up to him, listening for the arrival of the last two bandits. He reached down to pull his dagger out of the man's back.

Where the first two bandits had been walking wasn't the end of the tunnel; it curved out of sight. Karliah looked at the opening the bandit came through to find wooden platforms built into it and leading up to another opening.

"So, which way?" she asked.

Macayla considered the tunnel curving around another corner, then up at the opening at the top of the platforms. "Water wasn't in the room I saw; it must be up there," she whispered.

With their weapons ready for more, they headed up the wooden ramp. The hill flattened out at the top and the opening on their left was a natural stone deformity; at the end of the short tunnel was a room. A woman in steel plate armor hunched over an Alchemy table, busy grinding ingredients in a mortar and pestle.

Karliah didn't like it; her or Macayla's arrows wouldn't penetrate her armor enough to kill her in one shot. Since she wasn't wearing a helmet, they could attempt a headshot, but with her constantly moving her head, the possibility of an arrow hitting was low. Shooting her would aware her of their presence and she looked strong with the battleax on her back.

She saw Macayla look at her husband. He nodded in response to her mouthing order, then crept toward the woman. Brynjolf stopped at the entrance into the room, then stepped over a tripwire. Karliah and Macayla both had an arrow ready as they waited in the tunnel in case Brynjolf wasn't able to kill her.

He snuck up behind the woman busy making a potion, straightened and swiftly clamped a hand over her mouth as he slit her throat. She struggled against him but gradually bled out and died; he laid her on the ground.

The women stepped in—careful to step over the tripwire—and Macayla's head immediately turned to her left. Karliah angled around her to see a fairly sizable chest.

"I'm guessing that's it," Brynjolf began as he walked over to the chest.

"Yes," Macayla said.

He checked for any trap triggers, then lifted the lid. He observed the contents for a second before reaching for something. "Is Meridia's beacon a cream sphere?"

"Yes."

Brynjolf straightened out of the chest with a large cream sphere with multiple indentations; it was large enough where he had to hold it with both hands.

He began to speak when he suddenly snapped to attention, hearing something only he could hear.

"Bryn—" Karliah began.

Macayla stopped her. "He's alright; Meridia's talking to him."

The Daedric prince of infinite energies didn't have much to say before Brynjolf turned to them, eyes now focused.

"Let me guess. She commands you to bring her beacon back to Mount Kilkreath," Nocturnal said through Macayla.

"That, there's a darkness within her temple, and I'll wipe it out."

"She doesn't know you're not alone?" Karliah asked.

Brynjolf shook his head. "Didn't sound like it."

"Let's go." Macayla turned to leave.

"What about the final bandit?" Brynjolf asked.

She didn't stop to think before Nocturnal answered. "We'll leave him alive; he'll get a surprise at seeing the gifts we left him."

The hairs on Karliah's neck shivered: things like that quickly reminded her that Nocturnal was evil.