As quickly as they could, Juliet and the others pried open the lids of the chambers in the machine. Both of the occupants were Tranquil—one a human woman, the other an elven man—and the elf was recently dead, drained of too much blood for his heart to keep beating.

The woman, however, was alive. Zevran and Naia lifted her out and laid her on a laboratory bench as gently as they could. Without a word, Anders began healing her with a conviction and gentleness that surprised Juliet. Magic flowed from him like a stream, knitting together the cuts on her arms, compensating for the strength that had been taken from her. She didn't think she'd ever seen such a skilled healer work in person. That's not the kind of talent I would have expected from him.

The woman opened her eyes slowly. "Enchanter," she whispered, her voice hoarse and faint. "Am I sick? Senior Enchanter Uldred asked for my help. But I do not remember what I was supposed to do."

Anders' jaw spasmed. "It's all right, Emili. You're sick. You need to sleep. Senior Enchanter Uldred doesn't mind. You should rest now."

Emili's eyes closed obediently, and moments later she was unconscious, her breath even once more.

Anders clenched his fists as he watched his patient's chest rise and fall. "That absolute bastard. The Tranquil can't say no to us. They can't fight back. He probably told her to climb into that awful thing and she …" His voice cracked. "She was going to die in there, like Avran did. And Uldred didn't care so long as their blood supplied the magic for his little trap."

Juliet swallowed hard and looked over at the machine. "Maker. Where did that thing come from? Did he build it himself?"

Anders looked at her as if she were insane. "Do we care? Let's smash that thing and get the hell out of here before Uldred finds us."

"Or we could find him," Naia suggested. Her eyes were focused on Emili's face. "I think I'd really like to find him and kill him."

"He's a possessed Senior Enchanter with an army of abominations backing him up. We have four guns, two mages, and no help to speak of," Anders said, crossing his arms. "Finding him would be suicide."

"But we still don't know where Alistair and Fenris are," Naia argued. "We're not leaving without them."

"Have you considered the possibility that they're dead?" Anders asked bluntly.

Naia's face darkened. Juliet opened her mouth to back up her partner—but then closed it when the laboratory doorknob began rattling.

Naia, Zevran, and Varric all pointed their guns towards the door. Juliet reached for her magic, her fingers spread wide, and tensed in anticipation of an abomination bursting into the laboratory. But the knob just continued rattling, and something scraped uncertainly against the deadbolt.

Zevran's eyebrows rose. "I believe someone is trying to pick the lock." Slowly, his gun still raised, he stepped towards the door and opened it.

A very surprised-looking man in a blue suit was on the other side. He leapt visibly when he realized Zevran was pointing a gun at his head. "Shit!" he hissed as Zevran pulled him inside.

Anders glared at the newcomer. "Marcus Amell," he spat. "You should probably shoot him. He's one of Uldred's."

Juliet tried to conceal her shock. Amell? That had been her mother's last name. She could even see some family resemblance with this man—same dark caramel skin, same wavy hair. Great. I finally meet some family in Denerim and he's probably a psychopath.

"Wait!" the man said, holding up his hands. "I—I'm here to take down the shield. I'm not with Uldred any more."

"But you used to be. Not a point in your favor," Naia said. Fang didn't move an inch.

Marcus looked over at Anders pleadingly. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. Anders, you know how bad things are here. Something had to change. I wanted to force the Templars' hands, not … not build a demon army!"

"Shut up," Juliet snapped.

Amell's head swiveled towards her. Juliet met his eyes and glared at him. "No one cares about what you intended, Enchanter. We care about what happened. And what happened is that a lot of people got hurt. Maybe including our friends. So save your explanations for someone who gives a shit."

"She doesn't mean us. In case that wasn't clear," Varric added.

Amell's face took on an expression close to a pout. Juliet heroically suppressed the urge to punch him. "Do you care that the hallway is clear?" he asked sullenly. "Uldred's trying something big in the Harrowing chamber. This is our chance to pull the plug on that shield and get the hell out of here." His eyes flickered over to the laboratory wall—specifically, to a large metal door with a keypad entry. The phylacteries.

"We're agreed on pulling the plug. But we're not leaving without our friends," Juliet stepped closer to the machine and began running her hands over the tubes and gears, trying to figure out how she could disable it. The machine was basically a large battery—it stored the blood, turned it slowly into mana, then converted that mana into the shield. It was a hideously elegant mechanism.

Tentatively, Juliet reached out with her own magic. She could feel the power in the blood, dormant and waiting—but the mana above it was bright and powerful, like a hundred lyrium potions poured into a single vessel. The machine wanted to pull her magic away, to use it to join the mana powering the shield—but when Juliet tugged back, the mana slid towards her easily.

"Guys?" she said. "I think I just came up with a really bad idea."

The top floor of the Circle was filled with abominations.

Uldred led their group past five of the creatures standing guard in the hall. One, a rage abomination, clearly wanted to attack—but a look from Uldred quelled it. Fenris found himself disappointed. Any chance to destroy one of these creatures was a welcome one.

Fifteen more were waiting for them in the Harrowing chamber, standing in a ring around the room. The bodies of more than a dozen mages and Templars lay scattered across the chamber. The mages, Fenris knew, had likely died resisting the demons. He wondered if the Templars had died fighting, or if they had been kept for amusement as Agent Rutherford had.

Uldred gave the Grand Enchanter a hard shove, sending her stumbling towards the center of the room. Fenris saw that her hands were tied behind her back, preventing the use of her magic. A Desire abomination quickly moved forward to tie Enchanter Surana's hands as well. She submitted quietly, her eyes taking in the room, evaluating their chances.

Fenris himself did not feel optimistic about those chances. Especially when the five abominations from the hallway entered the Chamber and shut the door behind them.

Hawke. Please be safe. Please be close.

Fiona spun around to face Uldred. Her hair was disheveled and her blue Enchanter's suit was torn, but she seemed almost regal as she stared down her fellow mage. "Release them, Uldred," she commanded. "The Templar and the other men are of no use to you."

"I disagree," Uldred said calmly. He gestured towards one of his followers. A moment later a Pride abomination lunged at Alistair, grabbing him by the throat. The boy grunted in surprise but did not panic; he just glared at the monster, his jaw clenched. Fenris took a breath, but did not intervene. It would not help.

"You've been reluctant to join our cause, Fiona. I admire your tenacity." Uldred inclined his head in a mockery of a bow. "But if you do not accept the gift I offer you, you will watch your son die."

"And what is the boy to me?" Fiona asked coldly. "A screaming babe I gave to his father decades ago." But her eyes kept flickering to Alistair's face. Fenris was not fooled, and he knew Uldred would not be either.

"So heartless, Fiona! Do you really want those to be the only words your son ever hears from you?" Uldred mocked. "Perhaps you need to hear his voice. Alistair, say something to your mother."

Alistair turned his head and glared at Uldred, but then hissed in pain as the abomination tightened its grip. Fiona's eyes grew wide when it seemed he could not breathe—but then the monster relaxed, and Alistair drew in a deep, gasping breath.

"Hi, Fiona," he managed. "Nice to see you in person. So what's with Uldred here?"

Despite the horror of the situation, Fiona laughed, though there was more than a little sob in the noise. "He seems to have a rather ambitious plan to start a war."

"Do you think it's his plan or the demon's?" Alistair asked conversationally.

Uldred went still. His face paled, even as his eyes began glowing a deeper yellow.

Fiona arched an eyebrow at the Senior Enchanter's reaction, then tilted her head to the side, appearing to consider Alistair's question. "I would say the latter, given what I knew of Uldred before this unpleasantness began."

"So what percent Uldred do you think we're dealing with?" Alistair continued. "Thirty? Twenty? He still looks human, so there's some of him left. But probably not much."

"Shut up," Uldred hissed, his chest swelling in anger. "You know nothing, boy. You never even became a Templar. You are utterly ignorant. I am in control." His fists tightened at his side.

"I'm a Templar. And I think I agree with Alistair." Agent Trevelyan's voice was cheerful, but his eyes were slightly narrowed, watching Uldred's response.

"It's a Pride demon," Surana said, her voice cool and analytical, as if she were giving a classroom lecture on how to recognize demon species. "Taking healthy ambition and twisting it to violent purposes is typical of a Pride demon. This was almost certainly its plan, not Uldred's."

We make a desperate gambit, Fenris thought, watching as Uldred seethed in rage. Pushing Uldred closer to a confrontation with his demon, however, was one of the few options they had to unsettle the situation and buy themselves more time. "I saw this many times in the Imperium," he added. "Magisters seeking an edge over their rivals convince themselves they can keep the upper hand in a bargain with a demon. They are inevitably disappointed when they lose the battle and transform."

"I am still myself! " Uldred roared. He wheeled on Fenris, his eyes so bright that the yellow glow seemed to pour over his cheekbones. "I will not allow myself to become a vessel! I will see the Circles torn down, I will keep the upper hand, and then I will cast this thing out of my head!" For just a moment, the yellow light faded in his eyes.

Then it came blazing back, even brighter than before. Uldred screamed and clutched his head in his hands, shaking as the demon asserted its control. His shoulders began twisting and stretching. Spikes of bone tore through his skin. He grew taller, his fingers longer, his skin darkening to a bruise-like purple. Slowly, the scream died, replaced by an inhuman groan.

Evidently the demon did not like that plan.

And in that moment, when all eyes on the room were locked on Uldred's transformation, Fiona launched herself at the Pride abomination holding Alistair, and all hell broke loose.

When Fiona struck the Pride abomination, throwing her body against its torso in a surprisingly fierce blow, it flung Alistair against the ground in sheer surprise as it stumbled back.

He watched what happened next as if in slow motion. The Pride abomination wheeled on Fiona, her hands still bound. It grabbed her by the neck and lifted her as if she weighed nothing. As Alistair stood and launched himself forward, the monster flung the Grand Enchanter across the room with as little effort as a child might need to throw a rag doll. Fiona struck the far wall and slid down to the ground, where she lay in a crumpled heap, her eyes closed.

"No! " Alistair howled as he reached the monster. He knew, even as he swung his fist, that he was desperately outmatched. The abomination was stronger, faster, more resilient, and he didn't even have a weapon. But in that moment he did not care.

The Pride demon slashed at Alistair with its claws, shredding the front of his sweater and drawing blood. But suddenly ice crystals bit into the abomination's spine, causing it to arch back in agony. Alistair turned his head to see Mei Surana, her hands freed, and Max Trevelyan standing beside her with the rope in his hands.

"Alistair! Get a sword!" the Templar yelled, dodging as two abominations flung themselves in his direction. Surana cast a wall of ice behind her partner, blocking the creatures' pursuit; she followed this up with a blast of fire that set both monsters ablaze.

Alistair set his sights on a longsword lying next to a dead Templar and began running towards it. It seemed rather pointless at first—three abominations were within striking distance—but fortunately for him, the monsters on this side of the room seemed to be focused on Detective Leto.

The terrifying Detective was showing the full force of his abilities as he fought the creatures. They were landing blows, and he was already bleeding from a gash on his cheek, but two abominations lay dead at his feet and he had his hand in the chest of a third. The wilier Pride and Desire abominations were now keeping their distance, waiting for their moment.

It won't be enough, Alistair thought wildly. Even if he and Max got swords, even if Enchanter Surana cast her best spells, even if Leto could kill more than his share—four against twenty.

Four against twenty-one. Don't forget Uldred.

Uldred.

The newly-transformed abomination was standing in the middle of the room, watching the chaos unfold and laughing. Surana had been right; it was a Pride demon, spiky and monstrous, easily a foot taller than any other creature in the room. Alistair grabbed the hilt of the dead Templar's sword and drew a deep breath.

"Uldred! " he shouted. "Or whatever your name is now."

The monster turned to him. "Ah, Mr. Guerrin." There was no trace of human left in that voice; it was rasping, scraping, metallic, and echoed with menace. "You intend to fight me, I suppose."

"He's not the only one."

Mei Surana strode forward with magic flying from her hands. Her face was twisted with rage as she flung her first spell at the abomination. Fire and lightning and ice seemed to encase the monster all at once, and Alistair's hair stood on end, electrified from the force of her magic. There was no question about it—Surana was powerful.

Uldred laughed and stepped towards the mage, seemingly unaffected—but the second step was harder. By the third step he was shaking as burns and gashes formed on his purple skin. Her next spell was ice, again, a more focused blast concentrated on the monster's head and throat.

"Do abominations need to breathe?" she snarled, clenching her fists.

Crystals burst through the monster's mouth, choking off his air, and more ice grew from that, all but enclosing his head. Uldred howled and beat at the spell with his claws, shredding bits of ice from his prison—but he could not break the spell as fast as Surana was building it. In a last, desperate attempt to save himself, Uldred launched himself at Surana, claws extended.

He never made it to her. Alistair stepped in his path and thrust his sword upward through the creature's belly. The abomination's skin was tougher than a man's, and Alistair had to brace himself to push the blade in deep; his feet scraped against the stone floor of the Harrowing chamber, skidding back as Uldred fought him. Foul-smelling blood leaked out around his borrowed sword, and Uldred delivered a painful blow to his right shoulder, but Alistair bent his knees, tightened his grip, and pushed.

Maker, I hope his heart is still in the same place.

It was, and finally, the blade sunk deep enough to find it. The monster that had been Uldred choked, fell to its knees, and then collapsed, Surana's ice prison breaking as it struck the stone floor.

They didn't have time to celebrate. As Alistair pulled his borrowed sword free, a desire abomination seized Surana from behind, lifting her off her feet, crushing her in its grasp.

Alistair turned to help, but the elf shook her head frantically. "No, the Detective!"

He spun around to see four abominations converging on Detective Leto. The Detective's left arm was hanging at a wrong angle, and though his tattoos still glowed blue, the light was fainter than Alistair remembered it. Max was trying to get closer, trying to help, but he was surrounded as well.

We're going to lose.

And then the wall exploded.

"You're not serious," Anders said incredulously after Juliet explained what she wanted to do. "That much mana channelled through one person? I don't think it's ever been tried."

"We should share it, link our magic," Amell proposed, his eyes brightening. He stepped forward, but halted his progress when Juliet gave him her most withering you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me glare.

"No. If I'm going to do this, I need to be the one handling the magic. I don't want to be in some tug-of-war over it." And no way in hell am I putting that much power in the hands of Uldred's ex-right-hand man.

Amell scowled but didn't argue. Anders just shrugged. "Fine with me."

"Of course it is," she muttered. "Naia? Varric?"

"I don't like this, Hawke," the dwarf said bluntly.

Naia chewed her lower lip. "I'll back your play here. But … Maker. Are you sure?"

A horrifying scream ripped through the wall between the laboratory and the Harrowing chamber.

"No," Juliet said shortly. "But we're out of options."

She snapped her eyes shut, tangled her magic with the generator's well of mana, and pulled.

For a long, silent moment, it appeared that nothing was going to happen. A little trickle of magic flowed towards her, but nothing substantial. Was the machine designed to prevent this?

But then every scrap of magic in that machine came rushing towards her and through her.

More power than she'd ever imagined crashed into her limbs and stomach and brain with incredible force, nearly overwhelming her on the spot. Juliet's eyes flew open. As the power threatened to explode out, wild and uncontrolled, she grappled to contain it and flung her left hand at the wall. A massive blast of magic shattered the bricks and wood between the laboratory and the Harrowing chamber.

As the dust settled, Juliet could see an army of very surprised abominations staring at them through the brand new hole in the wall. And then—Andraste, I can't believe it—she saw Alistair and Fenris, paused mid-fight, bloodied but alive.

Juliet grinned and stepped through the wall with both hands thrown out. Lightning leapt from arms and struck the nearest abomination. From there, it branched out, striking two more. Then four more, then eight more, until every monster in the room was caught in Juliet's web.

Juliet clenched her fingers tight as the creatures' shrieks rose in unison. She began to smell something a bit like charred flesh as she moved forward into the room, and she poured more and more power through the chained lightning. Behind her, she could sense Naia and Varric trailing in her wake, watching her back, their guns trained on any possible threats. But none emerged. Nothing could stand against the power she had stolen. Power surged from her, tumbling out of her like an avalanche, and one by one, the monsters fell dead.

As the last creature fell, Juliet felt an insane grin spread across her face. Maker. We did it. We actually did it.

Behind her, Naia whooped in triumph. Varric let out a relieved laugh. "Hawke, that was incredible even for you."

Juliet turned to them with a grin as she wound down the lightning spell, drawing its power back into herself. "Not bad for …"

Then suddenly she felt the machine's magic surge within her.

Juliet tensed herself against it, tried to force the magic to subside and rest within her, but it was too much—she could not reabsorb this much mana. I have to, she thought wildly. If I don't … Maker. It's going to explode.

Lightning began to crackle around her, licking between her fingers and sending shocks through her, and she hissed in pain as she fell to her knees. Naia was there in an instant, kneeling beside her."What's wrong?"

Every muscle in Juliet's body was shaking. Worse, little flickers of lightning were spreading out from her hands and knees, spreading across the floor. She could feel a burn starting to grow on her forehead, the energy she'd stolen scorching her from within.

"I—killing them didn't use enough. I don't think I can control it," she whispered. "Naia, get everyone out of here."

"I'm not leaving you," Naia snapped. She grabbed for Juliet's hand, but had to jerk it back when she met with a vicious shock. But still, she did not move.

"Varric, get her out of here," Juliet yelled. But Varric, too, simply drew closer, his brow drawn in worry.

A shock wave rippled underneath the floor as Juliet fought for control of her borrowed power, and the walls and ceiling shook, releasing dust down onto the fallen abominations. Out of the corner of her eye she could see someone limping closer—Fenris, his face in agony as he took in the scene.

Juliet's eyes met his and she shook her head. He shook his back and knelt next to her, cradling his broken left arm in his right.

A wind rose in the room, howling around their little group, creating an almost painful whistling sound. Juliet tried desperately to think of something, some last trick, some way to save her friends, if not herself. But she had nothing.

And then Mei Surana stuck her right hand in Juliet's face. "Take hold!" she yelled, screaming to be heard over the wind.

Juliet shook her head, her limbs shaking, lightning still rippling over her. But Surana didn't move. "I can help! Trust me!"

Swallowing hard, Juliet accepted the offered hand. Surana flinched when the lightning met her skin, but she did not back away and she did not let go. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and flung her left hand towards the sky.

Power exploded upwards and tore through the ceiling as if it were paper.

The torrent of energy seemed to flow on, and on, and on, but the elven mage's face remained serene. Juliet felt the power within her rush away and outward, guided through Surana's confident hands. Cracks began to spread out from the growing hole above them, and Juliet felt the structure shake around her as the ceiling and walls of the Harrowing Chamber began to break apart.

After an eternity, Surana lowered her hand and clenched her fist, breathing hard, her eyes still closed. A bright golden shield snapped into being seconds before the remains of the room crashed down on them. Juliet flinched as chunks of the building smacked against the outside of the shield, but Surana's work held steady.

Suddenly, all was quiet. Dust swirled outside Surana's shield, and Juliet suspected that they should not remain on this floor much longer, but the room's collapse had stopped. More importantly, her body was no longer rippling with lightning

Juliet turned to look at Fenris, and saw her friend smile in relief—just before her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed onto the floor.