Sinead awoke very early in the morning, a few hours before dawn. The barn was nearly pitch black, save for the slivers of moonlight sliding through the cracks in the slats.
She should have been angry when she realized she had a clear and absolute knowledge of how to find Seer Hana mapped into her mind and her dead hand was scabbed over with a bit of cloth tied around the cut. To have an idea actively placed in her mind should have unnerved her – had unnerved her in the past. It was one of the more insidious powers blood magic allowed, and there was a tiny sliver of herself who regretted showing Cole how she did it – not to mention something in his spirityness gave him the ability to pass things on to her with relative ease once blood was involved, like the opposite of his mind reading.
But while these reactions did flicker within her for a moment, for the most part she felt relief. They were no longer wandering Rivain waiting for a seer to take pity on them and tell them where to go. There was a destination, a purpose, a reason to wake up and keep moving. After the horrors and the pain she witnessed the day before, it was everything she needed. Enough to beat back the darkness and tell it she did not have time to deal with it at the moment.
She healed her cut, unknotting the bandage with a small smile. It made her heart swell a little to know how good Cole was getting at knowing exactly what he needed to do to help someone – quite a bit different from the spirit who kept making people forget until he had it just right.
"You're different too. You're more…you than you used to let yourself be." Cole's voice was near her. She could barely make out the outline of his figure, leaning against the wall to her left. "You say the names now. Eluard, mother…"
"…whose name was Glidda," she whispered, continuing the list. "Norwin, who died because he felt too old to run from his books. And –" she stopped. Her tongue refused to have the last name on it.
"Rein. Who tried to take your mind. The first death." He paused. "You say most of the names now."
"Most is better than none." She sat up and finger combed the straw from her hair. "Come on, let's get things ready for the others before they wake. They all had very long days yesterday."
"So did you."
"And you. And yet, you'll pack things up for them to help?"
"Yes."
"Then so shall I."
Around dawn, the village seer and many of the villagers saw the crew off, some offering foodstuffs for their packs that Krem refused to take. They traveled east, on a small road that cut through the forests until the distant peaks of mountains became visible on the horizon.
For eight days they traveled, taking the horses on an easy gait, passing only two villages in that time and few fellow travelers. This was isolated country, where the forest grew thick. Parts of the road were overgrown with grass from lack of use.
As they traveled, Sinead noticed that the veil was thinner than in other parts of Rivain. It caught Dorian's attention as well.
"The one unpleasant part of stumbling into a land filled with deep arcane mystery is all the damned voices that start flittering around your head," he said, knocking against his temple. "And they never do listen when you ask them to keep it down."
"What is causing the thinness?" She held her hand up in front of her, feeling as if she could press against the veil if she tried hard enough. She rifled through her inner knowledge, trying to recall any major battles or elven stories about central Rivain.
"They came to convert those they lost to the Qun," Cole said from behind her. "They could not call them back. And so –"
"– slaughter," Tal-Ashkaari finished. She looked back at Sinead, shifting around in her horse. "Would any mass killing cause a thinness in the veil, or must it be associated with war?"
"Violent death is what causes it." Sinead shook her head to rid herself of the whispers from beyond the Veil. "Blood spilled with high emotions, increased pain. So yes, the slaughter of the Qunari would do it. I…didn't realize we were so near such a site."
Tal-Ashkaari nodded and flipped open her notebook as Sinead contemplated the many people in these forests who were killed in the name of Andraste – the people who refused to follow the Chantry and died in the name of the Qun. Not for the first time did she feel glad that she never felt the need to fight for the words of a prophet or a wise man.
"You risked your life for a set of hairpins," Cole said quietly in her ear.
"Good point," she murmured back. "I suppose we all have something foolish we believe in."
"Faith, not foolishness," he countered.
On the ninth day, Sinead led them off the road and onto a deer path. Krem was immediately wary.
"We've been lucky so far to only hit some bandits and come out fairly unscathed from a Tal-Vashoth attack," he said. "We go into the forests, and we're risking nature on our arses as well – wolves, bears, sylvan…"
Dorian cocked a brow. "Do sylvan count as natural?"
"Big damn trees that'll take a swing at you? They're basically one big metaphor for nature!"
"Well, it's the only way to get to Seer Hana," Sinead said. "So we either stop here and give up, or keep going."
"Oh, I'm not saying we don't continue." Krem held up his hands. "I'm saying, eyes and ears open, people. Last thing anyone wants is to come this far and get mauled to death."
They entered the woods, Cole and Sinead leading the others, and their path became difficult. Roots stuck up from the ground, slowing the horses as they carefully avoided stumbling upon them. The trees closed in around them, branches scratching at their arms and heads. Three times Sinead had to loosen a branch that got caught in her hair before she finally pulled up her hood, though the day was warm.
They traveled like this for over an hour, before Cole pulled his horse to a stop, making the others stop behind him.
"This…isn't right," he said, confused. He looked around the forest, peered down the path.
"Lost in the middle of the thin-veiled, ancient, foreboding forest? Must be Tuesday," Dorian quipped.
"We're not lost, we're exactly where we're supposed to be," Sinead said, equally confused. "Except, there's supposed to be an open clearing off to our right. We have to pass through it to get to Hana's dwelling. Are you sure the map is correct, Cole?"
"Yes. It's solid, steady, sure. And it feels more real than what we see. The forest feels wrong." He slipped from the horse and took it by the reins. He ran his hand over the trees to the right, his fingerless gloves scraping against the bark as he leaned forward. And then, his hand moved through one of the trees.
"Oh, an illusion!" Dorian pushed his horse past Krem's, examining Cole's hand as it pierced the "tree." Quite a good one, too. Nice touch with the lichen. Anyone wandering this path would have to stumble into it to even know it was there."
"Let's see what's on the other side," Sinead said.
Cole nodded and walked forward, disappearing within the tree. The horse did not shy as he did so, following his lead. Sinead felt a shiver of magic pass around her, and came through the illusion into a wide, sunny clearing cut through by a large creek. A cozy little cottage stood off by the widest part of the creek, fenced in to hold a number of goats who naaaad at the strangers.
An old woman was leaning against the fence, her arms folded over each other, watching as the rest of the crew passed through the illusion.
"I need a name!" Her voice echoed across the clearing.
Sinead was taken aback. "A name? What –"
"Eluard," Cole called back.
"And I need a message."
He dug into Sinead's pack, then held up the memory crystal.
"Oh, good, I don't have to kill you. I'm Hana. Come in for tea!"
Seer Hana pushed off the fence and hobbled into the cottage.
Sinead leaned over and stole Cole's hat from his head, making him look up at her. "Next time, can you tell me that there's a secret code to answer before we enter the killer Seer's lair?"
"Oh. Right. Sorry."
Seer Hana's cottage was one open room filled furniture. There was no lack of place to sit, given the amount of stools and stuffed and wooden chairs and ottomans available. There were also a number of tables – one long one by the pantry, then a dozen or so of various sizes, some holding knickknacks, some holding books, most holding cats.
"How did she get all this out here," Krem murmured under his breath as he picked up a cat figurine and turned it in his hand.
"You know, I was going to say something pithy like 'magic,' but I wouldn't mind knowing that myself." Dorian pushed away a cat gently with his foot – the cat rallied and hopped on the hand rest of his chair.
Tal-Ashkaari took the cat into her arms and scratched it beneath its chin. The cat approved, hopping up on her shoulders and spreading out over them like a furry, purring scarf.
"It has been some time since I've seen my cat," she said wistfully. "I do hope the apprentices are caring for her."
Dorian looked incredulous. "Qunari own cats?"
"Well, she was actually the Center of Higher Learning's cat," Tal-Ashkaari amended. "She is an excellent mouser. Very efficient. Also affectionate. She did have a fondness for me."
"Because you always gave her slivers of fish." Cole sat on the floor, propped against a chair. A few cats were sitting around him, staring at him. One gingerly batted at his boot, then jumped away.
Seer Hana hobbled over to the crew with a wooden tray filled with cups and mugs of various shapes and sizes. "Tea's on." She passed out the tea, then shooed away a cat from a large pink lounge chair and lowered herself into it. "All right, then. So which one of you is Eluard's student?"
"That would be me." Sinead placed her large, bowl-like mug on a nearby table, unable to balance it in her hand without fear of spilling hot tea on the large tabby that had taken up residence in her lap. "How do you know Eluard?"
"Good question! I suppose I don't. When I knew him, he went by another name – Elis, it was. Now that was a long time ago. Eluard started maybe…thirty years ago or so. Runs through names like a horny sister through clerics." She cackled. "Old git. Is he still on E's, or has he finally moved on to another letter?"
"Still E's," Sinead said carefully. "I'm sorry, but exactly how long ago did you meet him?"
"Goodness, what was it…'round 8:85 or so? Yes, that's it. Few years after Nevarra tried to take the Free Marches, the sops. Traveled a lot back then – saw a lot of death in the Free Marches. Huh. Conquerors are nothing but blood mongers."
Sinead quickly did the math in her head. "The Eluard I knew was somewhere in his fifties at most. In 8:85 he would have been…ten, at the very most?" She brightened. "You knew him as a child?"
Seer Hana laughed heartily. "Oh, I see how it is! Eluard, you bastard. He hasn't told you a thing about a thing, has he?" She held out her hand. "Before I say a word, I'd best listen to his message. Wouldn't want to spoil anything before it's time."
Cole handed her the memory crystal. She nodded her thanks, took a pin from a cushion nearby, pricked her thumb and pressed it against the cube. "Hana."
The cube turned a bright yellow, and Eluard's figure appeared within.
"Hello, Hana. I imagine if you're hearing this message, Sinead has found her way to you. She's the last one, I'm afraid – I've not been very successful in the last few decades, unfortunately. It is vital that we get her to safety as soon as possible. Titus is on the move, and his little cult has grown exponentially since last we spoke. It's almost as if something is spurring these elves on – not that that's without reason, but it puts us in a precarious position. You need to send her on.
I assume Sinead is listening. She's not one to enjoy being kept in the dark. Not to mention, one of her companions is a spirit of a sort, and I've never known a spirit who was good at keeping a secret for long.
My girl, I hate to be so secretive. I'm sure it seems suspicious. But if you are not alone, it's the only way to be sure that no one in your party betrays your position. Take the memory crystal with you. Once Hana leads you to your next location, your blood and the word cramoisy will open another message.
Be quick, Hana. Titus is clearly using the Eluvian network. If he catches wind of you at all, it won't go well for you or Sinead."
The cube flickered back to blue. Hana's wrinkled features were drawn, worried.
"He was in a hurry when he recorded this. Never good. And you're the last!" Hana handed the crystal back to Cole. "I had hoped there never would be a last."
"Eluvian network," Sinead murmured. "Elves spurred on, the last…cramoisy!" She reddened.
Cole smiled. "So it is a real word."
"Excuse me." Tal-Ashkaari raised a hand, like student in a lecture hall. "You and this Eluard are frustratingly vague. It seems inefficient. What do you mean by last? Why is this Titus a figure to fear? Why do you laugh at the idea of knowing this man as a child?"
Hana snorted. "You had to have one of her kind in your entourage, did you?"
"I thought Rivaini were pretty tolerant of Qunari," Krem said, surprised.
"Not a Qunari. A bloody Tal-Ashkaari. Nosy buggers, all of them. Simple to answer questions, though, for the most part." She pointed at Sinead. "You're the last of Titus's line. That's important for reasons I'm not rightly sure of, but know that being the last isn't a good thing. Why? Because Titus has killed or used every person in his family line that he's come across, and not for the better. El's found more than one drained, butchered corpse in his years that was on of Titus's line."
"Andraste's tits," Krem muttered.
"You said it, boy. Man is on a mission, feels he has some kind of higher calling. If you're the last, he'll be dead set on getting you in his grubby hands."
Sinead stared at the old woman. "Are you telling me there's some sort of familial madman after my blood?"
"Oh, much worse. He's very sane. Almost too sane. Zealots typically are."
"I'm rather glad we didn't stay in Antiva now, as per my advice," Dorian said. "If any of this is true, of course."
"Ah, a doubting ninny. So much in that noggin of yours that you can't help looking at every angle of a situation, eh?"
Dorian sipped at his tea sniffily. "Well, that was uncalled for."
Hana waved her hand in dismissal. "Now, as for the last question…" the old woman smiled. "Just how old did you say you thought Eluard was again?"
Sinead leaned forward in her chair, or as far forward as the cat in her lap would allow. "And how old do you think Eluard is?"
"Not too sure myself." Hana grinned. "He looked about fifty or so when I first met him."
Hana insisted that they finish their tea, then pressed them into action.
"No horses where you're going," she snapped, pointing at the mounts. "They'll not like the crossroads."
"The crossroads?" Sinead was alarmed. "You mean we're going to be using eluvians?"
Actually, she was more than alarmed. Her head was in a tizzy – blood mages and strangely old mages and eluvian networks and a family line that somehow cursed her with some sort of importance, and no one would tell her the full extent of what that meant.
"Yes, you'll be using eluvians. Only way to get 'cross the continent comfortably. Those ancient elves really were brilliant, weren't they? For a bunch of tossers."
Krem began unloading the horses, handing out packs and repacking goods from the saddle bags.
"But what will happen to the horses? They've started to like us. Well, they still don't like Sinead." Cole rubbed the nose of his mount.
"The horses don't like me?" This information on top of everything else made Sinead crack a bit. She began to giggle helplessly.
Hana gave her an appreciative look. "Never did like horses. Rotters, all of them. However, they'll be fine in my glade. I'll sell 'em to the next seer who comes 'round my way. Not to worry, lad. We Rivaini treat our horses like kings."
Then she cocked her head at Cole. "Wait a minute." She hobbled up to him and poked him in the chest. "Just what do you think you're doing, boy?"
"…saying goodbye to the horse?"
"Not that. This." She waved a hand up and down Cole's body. "Spirits've been pestering me about you since you walked in my glade. Thought to ignore them – nosy, they can be. But they're right, this is unacceptable."
Cole looked down, placing his hands on his chest. "I chose this. This is who I am."
"Boy, are you listening? They care not about the choice. The choice is fine, it's the way you're going about it! You're clinging to the Fade like a momma's boy to the apron strings!"
"I am not." He sounded affronted. "I just…don't want to fall too fast into myself."
"Fall too fast? When do you plan on embracing humanity fully, when you've gone gray? Huh!" She prodded Cole in the chest again. "You'll always have the Fade about you. It's what you are. But you made a choice, and it's time to come to terms with it. This way is cowardly."
"Hey, now." Krem looked up from rearranging his pack. "Cole's a lot of things, but cowardly isn't one of them."
"Then why is he still running around like a thing half made, eh?"
Sinead stepped in front of Hana, blocking her from Cole. "He's doing things his own way. Please don't berate him. He'll come to who he wants to be in his own time." She glanced back at Cole, who gave her a small smile.
"Well of course you support this nonsense. You're head's all full of mush for him. But I'll not stand for it – a choice has been made, and you can't live life by half-measures."
Hana elbowed Sinead aside and slapped her palm on Cole's chest. A blue light zipped up Cole's body, from toes to crown. He yelped and jumped back. Krem stood quickly and Sinead rushed to Cole's side.
Hana wiggled her fingers and nodded. "There we are. Much better."
"What did you do?" Sinead pulled at her mana and checked over Cole's body, looking into his blinking eyes, checking his pulse.
"She pushed me." He swayed on his feet, holding his head. "I feel…odd." He took a step forward and stumbled. Krem reached over and caught him by the arm.
Sinead turned on Hana, furious. "What did you do?"
"Calm down, girl. All I did was knock him off from his perch. He'll be fine as any other human, as soon as he gets his bearings."
"And how long until that happens?" Sinead snapped.
"A day at most. Must reorient, you know. He's been relying on the Fade for so long, his body's not used to functioning as it should. Right, is everyone ready?"
"Not our resident rogue," Dorian said as he shouldered his pack and took up his staff. "Thanks for that. I suppose we'll just have to make due if we run into anything that tries to kill us. And you." He nodded to Tal-Ashkaari. "Are we all sure she should continue on this journey with us?"
"I would ask that you not request that I leave quite yet." She was eyeing Cole as he leaned shakily against Krem like a cat eyeing a bowl of cream. "This is fascinating."
"No it's not," Sinead snapped. "Stay or don't, I don't care, but for Maker's sake, don't treat him like a shiny thing."
Tal-Ashkaari lifted her brows. "I am sorry, I did not mean –"
"Yes, you did." Sinead turned on Hana. "Are you going to lead us to this eluvian, or not?"
"Huh. Temper, temper!"
Hana hobbled forward, Sinead marching after her, trying to contain her anger. The others followed behind, Krem slowed by Cole's stumbling.
They passed out of the glade, through the illusion and into the forest. Hana moved through the forest easily, moving faster than one would presume she could around trees and over roots. The others kept up as best they could, Krem physically lifting Cole over some obstacles to speed him along.
As they walked, Hana began reciting directions.
"When in the crossroads, remember – four forward, three to your left, mirror with two Fen-Harel statues framing it. Key's a hand on the glass and the thought of your favorite sweet. Don't ask, I don't get it, either. Don't worry about the sick feeling – crossroads was built for elves, and everyone else gets a nice, hungover feeling from them. Can't tell you where that mirror will bring you, it's been a long time since I've been through it. But it's the right mirror, I'm sure of it."
"Good." Sinead's voice was short. She was finished with this Seer Hana. "How much further is it?"
"Patience, lover girl. It's just around this boulder –" she stopped as they circled around a large boulder ringed by trees into a very small clearing. A large mirror was propped against the boulder, dark and unreflective.
And a gray-haired elf was sitting cross-legged in front of the mirror. He looked up and smiled as the group entered the clearing.
"Oh, bollocks," Hana muttered. "Titus."
"Seer Hana." The elf stood, picking up a staff and giving the Seer a small bow. "Well met."
"Wouldn't say the same to you, old man," Hana sneered. "Where in the void did you come from?"
"The eluvian network of course. I had an interesting conversation with the Inquisitor, in which she told me where my granddaughter was headed. I couldn't find you in the forest, which vexed me. So I've been waiting here for you to make an appearance."
"The Inquisitor told you where we were going?" Sinead shook her head. "I don't believe you."
"He took it from her." Cole's voice was shaky as he spoke. "He's not alone. The other in his head pulled it from her mind."
"Wait, he's an abomination?"
"That's always been an inaccurate description for those of us who let the spirits take us. Wouldn't you say so, Seer?" Titus smiled. "I must say, granddaughter, you've certainly surrounded yourself with some interesting companions."
Krem lowered Cole to the ground and drew his sword. "All right, listen, we don't want trouble. Just want to pass through the mirror and be on our way."
"Of course. The rest of you may go. First, I'd like to have a chat with Sinead."
Before anyone could move, he cast a spell, freezing everyone in place. Sinead tried to move, but the spell was heavy – like the weight of the world was bearing down on her. She would have been afraid, would have allowed the panic to take her. However, the anger that Hana had sparked through her treatment of Cole boiled over into a seething rage.
Titus approached her, examining her with approval.
"Well. Marcus's roll in the hay with the little Antivan girl certainly produced favorable results. You're one of the prettiest of my progeny. And powerful, too! It's no wonder you were taught blood magic. A pity Marcus didn't choose an elf maid – but no matter, the Elvhen within your blood is strong."
He stood in front of her. "My dear, I am sure the man you call Eluard has told you many tales about me. But there is only one truth – I work for the gods who were locked away by the Dread Wolf. The gods who my people call to with no answer. The spirit I share my form with sees this as the true abomination. The world sundered from its true existence, the highest beings imprisoned, while my people languish in ghettos and as slaves and as ridiculous lore-bound children prancing about the woods. Abominations on top of abominations.
"But we have a chance, you and I, to set things right. The blood within us both sings with power. We hail from a line of powerful mages, some of whom still walk the Fade in Uthenera. And every year that passes, my power grows. This can be true of you as well, if you allow it."
His eyes glowed for a moment, bright white. "You wish to speak."
Her mouth was released. She took a breath and licked her lips.
"What in the Maker's blessed sack are you going on about?" She snapped. "And stop looking at me as if I was a nice head of cattle."
Titus was taken aback. Then he laughed. "What a mouth! I was under the impression you were learned."
"Oh, I am." Sinead glowered at him. "But you're telling me I'm a pretty piece of meat while also going on about working for the Elvhen gods, which I'm sure are speaking to you through the spirit in your head."
"They are."
"Of course they are." She smirked. "I've also heard tales of you butchering some of our mutual family, which I may have been willing to give you the benefit of the doubt about if not for the fact that you've frozen my friends and me and this old hag to the ground." She lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. "So what are you about, Titus who claims to be my father's father? What do you want from me?"
"I never claimed to be your father's father," Titus said with a smile. "And what do I want? My dear, I want to raise Arlathan. It is my goal. It is the only goal worthy of any elf's effort."
Her eyes widened. "So you are mad. Raise Arlathan? With my help? Look at the ears – I may be a half-blood, or three fourths, or whatever, but I'm hardly elfy enough be a champion of Arlathan! Andraste's flames, the ancients that he Inquisitor ran into called her a shem – none of us are worthy."
The smile on Titus's face dropped into a furious frown. His eyes filled with fire as he slapped her. She was stunned by the blow, her eyes made to water.
"Not true," he snarled. "Not true! I am the closest to Elvhen who has existed in over a thousand years! They speak to me, they honor me, they need me!"
Sinead laughed with relief. "I knew Eluard was the one to trust. I knew it!" She looked at Titus with disgust. "So, what are you planning on doing with me? Slicing me up as a sacrifice? Draining me to use my blood to power whatever nonsense spell your cracked head has cooked up?"
Titus took a deep breath and regained his composure. "That would be a waste," he said pleasantly. "You are the last. You cannot remain so. We will have to remedy this before we move forward. Whether you chose to help me or not."
Now horror set in. Even her fury could not buoy her over such terrible implications.
"Now don't give me that look. I'm no monster. We will find someone suitable among my ranks." He placed a hand on her cheek. "And I'll make sure you are a happy and willing companion."
"That's enough of that!"
Sinead felt her limbs loosen and free from Titus's spell. As soon as her arms could move, she drew her knife and stabbed into her dead hand, pulling the blood to her, then pushing out. Titus stumbled back, not expecting the attack. She looked around – the others were also free, also drawing their weapons, save for Cole, who had trouble rising to his feet.
Hana stood, back straight, a head taller than she had been before. Her eyes glowed white-blue.
"Both of us can ask for help from the spirits, you old twit." Her voice boomed against the trees. "You think because you have a few years on me you can beat me in a fight?"
"That's what I think exactly," Titus said jovially. He swung his staff and unleashed a wave of power that knocked all but Hana to the ground.
Hana lifted her arms, and a great wind whipped up, stirring up debris and dust until Sinead could not see in front of her, or keep her eyes open for long for fear of the detritus blinding her. She felt a hand on her shoulder and a whisper in her ear.
"Move. We will lead you."
She scrambled to her feet, arm in front of her face, and walked at a slow pace, careful with her footing. The wind stole locks of her hair from her braid, and they lashed her face. The hand on her shoulder pressed her forward through the wind, then gave her a gentle shove, and she was free from the whirlwind and tumbling over old, cracked cobblestones.
She hit the ground hard with her knees and the heel of her hand, then fell over onto her back. The world had gone a pale gray, and she felt sick to her stomach. She blinked, thinking something was wrong with her sight, until she realized that she was within the crossroads. She sat up – an eluvian was nearby, shimmering in brilliant, opalescent colors.
She sheathed her knife and stood. As she did so, Dorian fell through the mirror and skidded over the ground, catching himself with his staff. Tal-Ashkaari followed, then Krem, his arm crooked through Cole's. They dropped to the ground in a tangle.
"You must run," the voice near her ear said. "Hana cannot hold him for long. Be safe, Grace."
She turned, but could see no one, spirit or otherwise.
"Okay, that was all sorts of bizarre," Krem said, sheathing his sword. "Let's go."
No one argued. Sinead ran forward, whispering to herself "four down, three over." What Hana didn't explain was how far between each other the eluvians could be. The first two were next to each other. The third was over a stone bridge without railings that hovered over a cloudy sky that had no end. She kept running, not looking down, only looking behind her to make sure the others were there.
They climbed a hill, passing the fourth mirror, and as Sinead turned left, in the distance, the mirror they had come from flashed. Titus came through, only it could not be Titus – whatever passed through the mirror was a head taller than Titus, bulkier, twisted. It swung its lolling head around, sighting them.
"Shit," Krem said. "How much further?"
Sinead did not answer. She ran, faster than she had ever run in her life. She allowed her panic to rule her, push her forward, ignoring her burning legs and lungs. Two mirrors passed over the strange rocky terrain, through a tall gothic arch of a doorway, and she skidded to a halt in front of a large eluvian. Fen'Harel howled on either side of the darkened mirror.
She pressed her hand against the mirror, but her mind went blank.
Behind them, there was a roar and a rumble. The thing that was Titus was crossing the stone bridge at an inhuman speed.
"Hurry it along, Lady Lotus!" Dorian snapped.
"Sweet things, favorite sweet things," she said frantically. "Who has a favorite sweet thing?"
"I like honey cakes," Tal-Vashoth said, her normally calm voice pitching high.
Sinead ran over to the Qunari, took her by the wrist, dragged her to the mirror, her spear clattering on the cobblestones, and pressed her palm against the glass.
"Think honey cakes!" she screamed into Tal-Ashkaari's stunned face, pulling herself up on her toes.
The mirror burst into light, and they fell through together, tumbling over onto a grassy knoll. The men followed quickly behind, Krem shoving Cole through before following. He then turned around and beat at the mirror with his sword, cutting into the frame.
"Stand back!" Sinead cried.
She pulled blood from the wound on her hand, wrapped it around her mana, took a great breath then threw her power at the mirror. It warped, the frame cracking, then burst apart, glass shattering across the knoll along with bits of the frame. The force of the explosion pushed everyone onto the ground.
There was a moment as everyone staggered to their feet, checking for injury. Sinead healed her hand and walked over to what was left of the base of the mirror. She kicked at the glass. Dorian stepped up beside her.
"That. Was also a neat trick," he said. "Also, I don't know if you realize this, but your grandfather is insane."
She looked up at him and started to laugh, or to cry, she was not sure which.
Krem decided that they had had enough excitement for the day, and they set up camp down the hill from the ruined Eluvian. It was then that the questions began.
"What I want to know is what he's really doing," Dorian said. "Raising Arlathan? That's a madman's idea. As is his claims of speaking to the Elven gods. Maybe he's bringing demons through the veil?"
"He was certainly possessed," Sinead said, doubtful. "But have you ever heard of a group of demons joining ranks to convince one man to bring the lot of them through? That would take far more cooperation than demons are capable of."
"Cole, you get a read on him?" Krem asked.
"Not more than what I said already." Cole was laying on one of the bed rolls, his hat next to him, opening and closing his hands above his head. "It was all muffled – all the sounds and colors and lights and sights. It's…getting better. Why are my hands feeling the air? I don't think they did that before."
"That damned seer. He sounds like an apprentice on aquae lucidius." Dorian leaned over and snapped his fingers in front of Cole's eyes.
Cole grabbed his hand and turned it around. "Such a sweet sound," he said in wonder.
Dorian shook him off. "How could she manage to make him stranger than before? If she pushed him further from the Fade I'd think it would have made him more grounded."
"Maybe it's like a concussion," Krem said. "She knocked him silly, like."
"I could have throttled her," Sinead said darkly. "Who is she to mess about with someone like that?"
"She was a wise woman." Tal-Ashkaari looked up from her notebook, which she was writing in energetically. "Wise women often believe they are the only ones worthy enough to mess about with people."
"Good point." Sinead sighed, dug in her pack and pulled out the memory crystal. "Well, we might as well find out where we are. And where we're going. No reason to doubt Eluard now, do you think?"
"Not after seeing that thing," Krem said with a shudder.
"Or heard him going on about the Titus family breeding program," Dorian added.
Sinead gagged. "Maker, never mention that again." She slid her knife slightly out of its sheath, cut her thumb on the edge, and pressed it against the memory crystal. "Cramoisy."
"Red cloth!" Cole said, delighted.
"Yes, yes," Sinead muttered.
The crystal flickered a dark green.
"Sinead. You should be through the eluvian and in Nevarra now."
"Navarra!" Krem looked around the rolling landscape and slapped his forehead. "Of course!"
"You need to find your way to the capital," Eluard continued. "There you must find a Mortalitasi who goes by the name Gemeinhardt. Send him notice that Eluard's apprentice seeks his immediate counsel. That will get his notice. Give him the crystal. This little scavenger hunt is almost finished, my girl. Stay safe."
The crystal flickered back to blue.
"Nothing about where we are in Nevarra," Sinead said, frustrated. "Are we even near a road?"
"Something to figure out tomorrow morning." Krem lay back on the bedroll. "We're going to have to take turns with watch tonight, I think. Cole probably isn't up to it. You all right, Cole?"
There was no answer. Sinead looked over at him. His eyes were closed, his hands draped over his torso, his was face relaxed. Worried, she crawled over to him and pressed his chest.
"Cole?"
He breathed out deeply and shifted, his head falling to the side.
Sinead looked up, shocked. "He's asleep."
Krem sat up. Dorian gave her a wide eyed stare.
"Well," he said. "That's new."
