The next thing Alistair knew he was lying on a pile of straw in his undergarments, his head throbbing. The light was dim, but he could see a torch in a hallway through the iron bars. He dragged himself to his feet, and tried the door on the cage, though he knew it was pointless. He had failed in every way. Failed to find Aedan or even what happened to him, failed to prevent the Wardens from making a ruinous choice. And now he was trapped. He had lost his temper and understood why he had been ejected from the hall, but had not expected to be imprisoned.

The last time he had been in a cell was a long time ago, in Fort Drakon. But then Aedan had been with him and with his skills, they had escaped. He recalled with a smile how they had walked out of the fort clad in Denerim guard uniforms, passed for men going out on patrol. Now, he was alone. He could not even see another prisoner; the cages near him were all empty. Would they release him? Not without agreeing to their plan, he suspected. They must fear a revolt among the rank-and-file Wardens, or they would not have imprisoned him.

If only Aedan had been here. Aedan would have kept a cool head, been calm and convincing, like he had been when he had persuaded Ser Cauthrien to allow them into the Landsmeet. People listened to Aedan. Perhaps that was why Aedan wasn't here. Though Alistair no longer thought he had been captured for Aristomachus' ritual, he remained certain that the timing of Aedan's disappearance was no accident. Whoever was pushing the Wardens toward this horrendous course of action, whoever was behind this Livius Erimond, had wanted Aedan out of the way.

After a few minutes on his feet, he felt a bit nauseous and dizzy. He sat back down on the pile of straw, thinking he would rest a short while. He was not certain how much time passed before he heard a hissing whisper, "Alistair?"

He opened his eyes and looked blearily through the bars of his cage. Was he being released? As his focus sharpened he recognized the robed figure carrying a heavy pack unlocking his cell in the dim light. It was Adelheid. An escape, not a release. "How-" he started to ask, before she held a finger to her lips.

She handed him a robe that was too short for him, and a pair of men's boots that were a bit too small, and ushered him down the corridor, her eyes searching the dark grey stone wall. After they had moved a short distance, her hands moved along the wall. There was a moment of fumbling, then she pushed and winced at the noise as part of the wall swung open. They moved into the narrow passage and she tried to close the concealed door behind her, but even with Alistair's help, it remained slightly ajar. She shook her head and sighed, then turned toward the dark corridor that had been revealed. She spoke a soft word to her staff and it began to glow with the pale green light of veilfire, illuminating the way forward.

The corridor soon opened into a larger space. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he could see that they were in a room with a vaulted ceiling supported by many columns extending in lines beyond the limit of his sight. They moved along a narrow walkway with water on either side of them. The only sound in the vast room was the dripping water and its echoes.

"Where are we?" he whispered.

"The Cistern. We must move quickly but quietly. I cast a sleep spell on the guards but it will not hold for long."

Alistair remembered being told that the Wardens maintained an emergency water supply gathered from water collected from rooftops, in case of a siege, but had not imagined it would be so large "Will there be guards?"

"Not where we're going, but pipes connect this chamber to every rooftop in the Kastell and the sound carries here." She urged him onward. After a time they heard a commotion behind them. The echoes made it impossible to make out individual words but Alistair felt sure his escape had been discovered, and they would soon find the open door through which they had passed. Adelheid cursed softly, but then clenched her fist in triumph as a peculiar sculpture came into view ahead of them.

It was a stone dragon's head, upside down, half in the water with the chamber wall a few metres beyond. It looked so ancient that Alistair wondered if it could be one of the dragon gods of the old Imperium. The fortress had not been built by the Imperium, but builders often reused stone from older structures. Adelheid touched the end of its snout with her staff and said: "Sieg!"

A semi-circular band on the wall beyond began to glow in the veilfire. Adelheid took a deep breath, struck the wall with her staff and said: "Wachsamkeit!"

Then within the glowing semicircle the wall vanished, revealing a corridor. Though the sound of footsteps was coming closer behind them, Adelheid no longer seemed worried, striding forward into the corridor. The wall reappeared behind them and they walked through a semi-circular tunnel, coming at last to a dead end. But Adelheid ran her staff over the floor, and eventually the veilfire revealed a rune upon it. She touched the staff to the rune and intoned: "Opferung!"

And the tunnel opened up before them. Alistair had to close his eyes as morning sun was blinding. They had escaped.

They emerged onto a narrow ledge high up on the rocky precipice on which Weisshaupt stood. Alistair looked at the shear cliff below them. "How do we get down from here?"

"Carefully. There should be a trail down to the dorf but it may not have been used in centuries. This way, I think."

Alistair swallowed. He was still suffering the effects from the blow that had felled him the day before and did not trust his balance. He followed her lead with trepidation. "Do we have time to be careful?"

"I believe so. There are several entrances to the Cistern, so they will not suspect that we have left the kastell. They will search for some time before realizing we're outside. Those passages were designed as a way for people to move secretly out of Weisshaupt in case of a siege, but there has been no need of them for centuries. I doubt anyone will remember they exist, if they knew of them at all."

"How do you know of them?"

She chuckled. "Being an archivist has its advantages. The original plans for Weisshaupt are in the library, as are the details of every alteration that has been made over the centuries. After the debacle yesterday, I went back to the library to seek them out."

They wound their way back and forth down the face of the cliff. At times they had to stretch and reach across gaps where the old track had crumbled away, and at others the rocks were slick with water seeps. Several times Adelheid asked Alistair if he was okay, and he denied any problems. It was merely a question of focus, he told himself. He had fought often enough in this condition, he could stay on his feet and follow a narrow and slippery path. He had no choice.