Fun fact: this chapter ends on page 72 of my 230 pages (225 was an estimate - 230 is the exact number right now). We're not even halfway through.
No translations, though I believe there will be some next chapter.
Discovery
"It is Qunari," Gils said. "Mostly."
Crespin stopped playing in surprise. "Good guess," he told his sister, and then saw the look I was giving him. "Apologies, Inquisitor. From the introduction?"
"Yes," I confirmed shortly, stepping back to my original position as Fiona did the same. The opening chords of the minuet drifted through the air of Fiona's parlor, which was luckily provided with a harpsichord. I could hardly practice my minuet in public, and I sorely needed to - I had been so busy for the last season that I hadn't attended a single ball. Now, the dear Duke of Cumberland had seen fit to celebrate my arrival in style, and had planned a ball in my honor, coinciding with the expected arrival four days hence of a handful of nobles from Starkhaven. I would no doubt have the honor of opening it with him and the dreaded minuet.
I would have the envy - and pity - of every young lady there.
Thankfully Fiona moved in the sorts of rarified circles that required one to know how to dance, and Crespin played the harpsichord, so I had the chance to practice. Harding was there, too, ostensibly to hear the reports Gils and Roland were bringing us, but amusement was evident in her face, and I knew my practice was at least some of the draw. Ysabeau, Endris, and Amalia had been included, as well, on similar grounds as Harding, and I might as well get used to having an audience. I would have a much larger one at the ball.
I hadn't even packed a proper ball gown - I was going to have to wear the one I had planned for a nice, quiet court dinner at the Duke's palace, with the addition of extra petticoats, a very expensive necklace, and a tacked hem to shorten the skirt to an appropriate length for dancing. I could only hope Orlesian fashion dazzled the attendees enough that they would fail to notice the bodice wasn't cut quite low enough for a ball.
"Mostly Qunari," I noted, emphasizing the caveat and raising an eyebrow at Gils.
"I cannot say more, Inquisitor," Gils replied with a shrug. "The sample is so corrupted by red lyrium that it may entirely account for the - oddities. But perhaps not."
I spent a moment focusing on the steps Fiona and I danced around each other and thinking. "If one of their own - the Qunari - were that corrupted by red lyrium, they would likely kill that person," I reflected, "but odd it is the only blood we found."
"Something is very wrong about all this," Ysabeau said with a frown.
"It doesn't add up very well," I agreed.
"Maybe - " Harding began.
"No," I cut her off, already knowing what she was about to say. "You have your own investigation. You're not poaching mine."
She subsided with a sigh.
"Roland?" I turned my attention to the Tranquil researcher as I took Fiona's hand and stepped around her.
"So far the other wells are entirely uncontaminated," he said as I refocused on my dance partner. "Limestone appears to provide a poor substrate for the lyrium's spread - all crystals we have seen are submerged within the well water where a number of small creatures apparently thrive. I would not count on this to halt its spread indefinitely, however it does provide the chance for us to clean up what is already there. I predict only a ninety-one point zero six percent chance of failure."
"Which," Amalia put in quickly, "is much better than the chances he gave us in the Emprise du Lion."
"Well, that sounds...uh, promising," I replied. It mostly promised bad things, but at least there was a chance for success. "Although it also relies on corrupted spider monsters not continuing to spread the lyrium."
"We cannot attempt a clean-up while monsters still hunt the caves," Roland reminded me.
"Of course," I agreed.
"Ah," Fiona said, pausing in her dancing. "You went right instead of left."
"Well, I was...distracted. And anyway, we really need at least one other couple," I said, gesturing for Crespin to stop playing. "Ysabeau, Crespin - you know the minuet, don't you?" I didn't know their precise background, but everything about them screamed aristocracy. A minor house, most likely, but they had all the right manners, which meant they also had to be able to dance.
"Certainly," Ysabeau replied. "But have you another harpsichordist to play?"
"I can send for one once we are finished discussing sensitive matters," Fiona answered. "And then we can dismiss the rest of the audience, as well."
"Awww," Harding said in an exaggerated groan. "No one ever invites me to balls. I never get to see this stuff."
I gave her a wry look. "You hate dressing up," I reminded her.
"Sure, but that means I have to take the chance to watch other people dancing like particularly awkward marionettes wherever I can," she retorted with a grin.
"I read a paper once that claimed to prove court dances adopted and simplified by the common folk are objectively more enjoyable to watch," Endris said from his seat, sounding so deadly earnest that I truly couldn't tell whether he was joking. I glanced at Fiona, who was smiling, and concluded he was.
"Few things can be proved objectively," she told him mildly, "aesthetics least of all."
"It's probably true, though," Harding replied.
"I don't know, you seem to be enjoying yourself," I pointed out.
"Have we anything else relevant to discuss?" the Grand Enchanter asked, recalling our attention to more important matters.
"When you next descend into the caves," Roland said, "I would like you to take, at intervals, samples of any water, soil, or stone you can find. I will provide you a kit so you can avoid contaminating them," he added.
"Very well," I replied. "Have it sent to my room. Harding - what do you plan for tonight?"
"Since I'm down a mage, I thought I might just spend the evening writing letters," the scout answered with a shrug. "Sera finally sent word and is on her way. We got a count on how many people have actually been poisoned, and the Divine wants them moved to the institutions the Inquisition has already established for palliative care. We're...also going to need more sites."
"Do I even want to know what that will cost?" I asked.
"You...do not," she told me. "But I understand the Viscount has already said he'll find the funds somewhere, and I believe the Prince of Starkhaven has gifted the Chantry one of his family's holdings outside the city as a location."
I knew I ought not feel as though Prince Sebastian owed me that much simply because he sent some nobles to meet with me and it precipitated the planning of a ball in which I had to open with a minuet - but I wasn't feeling especially reasonable.
"Some of them might be housed here," Fiona put in. "We have researchers with an interest in red lyrium and how to slow its growth once a person is infected."
"Too dangerous," I said before Harding could. "You're mages; it's red lyrium."
"We could send them on to the Chantry before visible crystals began to form," Fiona countered.
"Think of how it would look," I argued back. "The College taking in the poisoned for observations and tests? People will say you're experimenting on them, and then blame you when they inevitably die."
She paled slightly. "That - is an angle I had not considered," she acknowledged. "I thought perhaps their families would appreciate having them kept nearer home. And it would allow my mages their research without the trouble of traveling to a variety of far-flung sites."
"Let them come under the auspices of the Chantry," I told her. "Lyrium is much too connected to mages in people's minds. They'll blame you for red lyrium, given half a chance."
"As you say, Inquisitor," she replied with a nod. "I - am grateful for your continued support."
"I'm grateful you haven't found a reason to resent it," I responded, thinking of the courts in both Ferelden and Orlais. "Anything else?" I asked the room more generally.
There were shrugs and shaken heads all around, and so we dismissed everyone nonessential to my practice for the ball, and Fiona sent for someone to play for us.
Rather than let Fiona continue to partner with me, Crespin asked me to dance with such a beautifully executed bow that I couldn't refuse. "Try not to fall in love," his sister admonished him, tapping the fan she had borrowed from Fiona on his arm, as she moved to stand opposite the Grand Enchanter. "She may not be married, but the Inquisitor sits far too high above us for you to raise your eyes to her." Though her tone was light, the glance she gave me made it clear she meant to put me on my guard as well as warn her brother.
"A libertine, are you?" I asked Crespin, amused. He was handsome enough, I supposed, for a human, but he seemed impossibly young to me. Although - adding it up, he couldn't be more than two or three years younger than I was. It seemed a wide gulf, but that was likely because my last few years had held experiences enough for a lifetime.
He smiled sweetly as the music began. "Even if I were, I would gladly give it up for you, Inquisitor - if I dared raise my gaze so high."
We made our honors to each other. "And does that line actually work?" I wondered as I met him in the middle of the floor.
Behind her fan, Ysabeau laughed, delighted, and Crespin had the grace to grin sheepishly. "It works - reasonably well," he admitted. "But you truly are-" he broke off as we circled each other before parading down the center of the mostly-imaginary line of dancers. "Now you will not believe any compliment I offer," he sighed.
"Likely not," I allowed. "But don't let it bother you - even if I had time for romance, Dalish elves generally don't consort with humans that way, so it would be a lost cause in any case."
Fiona caught my eye and gave me a knowing look, but didn't bring up the other reason a man's interest, sincere or not, would gain little traction with me.
I didn't falter in my dance steps at all this time, and Ysabeau complimented my grace steps, calling them "seemingly artless, yet elegant and sophisticated."
"Oh, certainly, you simply accept her compliments," her brother complained to me, giving her an affectionate bump with his shoulder at the same time.
After two perfect runs through two different minuets, I called a halt to practice. "We will need to be better prepared tonight," I told the twins. "Make certain your kits are ready. We leave directly after dinner."
It wasn't quite that simple, of course - I had to dress for dinner, and then get out of my gown and into armor. And it was armor tonight, because tonight I was making no compromises. I even insisted that we all carry a little food in addition to the - uncontaminated - water that we habitually took everywhere. The cave system was large, and if we got lost in the dark, it might take time for a rescue to find us. Ysabeau had at least made a copy of the map so far, marking the room we intended to return to, so that was some insurance.
It was fully dark by the time we left, making for the same entrance we had used the night before. This time we moved more quickly through the cave, despite occasional pauses to gather samples for Roland, and even with my admonition that everyone keep an eye out above us. Endris was helpful in this regard - Gils's mage light continued to float before us, while he raised his to better illuminate the ceiling. Most of the time the ceiling was too low to really matter, or to miss a giant monster skittering about up there, but sometimes it wasn't.
Still, everything was quiet - unnervingly so, I thought - as we made our way back to the large room where we had been halted the night before. This time all of us were prepared to wade through the water, though Crespin offered to carry me across anyway, causing his sister to roll her eyes dramatically and note that Gils was considerably larger and stronger-looking than he was. I quickly turned down all offers of help, and crossed the water just like everyone else: on my own two feet, holding my breath and hoping I wouldn't somehow get infected by red lyrium.
It was supposed to be relatively harmless to the touch, so long as one didn't touch it for too long, but some people have proved too sensitive to it even for that, and no one ever knows if they happen to be susceptible or resistant until they have already been exposed. I have been exposed, unavoidably, considering how much I have destroyed or had shot at me by red templars, and it seems I'm reasonably resistant. But that just meant that if it found its way to my skin, this touch might be one touch too many.
I didn't feel any telltale trickles of water against my skin, so that was something. Once we had crossed I called a halt so we could dry off, check for leaks, and take more samples while we were paused anyway, but it seemed everyone had made it through as safely as could be expected. We left the linens we had used to dry ourselves in a pile to be burned later. Our armor would receive the same treatment once we returned to the College.
A shame - I was rather fond of this set.
The contamination problem dealt with for the moment, we continued on.
The passage beyond the water was broad but gently winding, narrower on the ground than above, with a high ceiling and pillars that occasionally made progress difficult, though not impossible - at least on the ground. It was clear that the monster used this passage often, and habitually traveled across the ceiling. Thick strands of silk hung down, constantly shifting in the slight breeze that generally characterized caves, confusing us with strange shadows that no number of mage lights would have been able to entirely dispel. It was, I reflected, almost a caricature of the decor that had welcomed me to the College of Enchanters - revolting instead of wondrous, the ceaseless sense of movement drawing our eyes to the ceiling in anxiety rather than awe.
"Maker, I hate spiders," Ysabeau muttered.
"I am coming around to your way of viewing them," her brother replied.
"I would be happy if I were absolutely certain this is a spider," Endris muttered in response. "Or just a spider."
Gils, characteristically, said nothing, and though his eyes roamed the space warily, he didn't seem nearly as spooked by it as the rest of us.
I considered hushing them, but after the noise we had made crossing the pool and then taking care not to let any more red lyrium than necessary linger on our persons, stealth was likely a moot point, even leaving aside the lights we wouldn't be able to do without. Let them talk if it makes them feel better, I told myself. There was no need to let on that it made me feel even more unnerved.
Ahead, there was a sharper bend than any we had yet encountered in this part of the tunnel. The five of us exchanged glances and nods, and we rounded it carefully, weapons ready, Endris with his eyes trained on the ceiling - and we found we had come to another large room. This one, however, was clearer than the last. After a short ledge of limestone, the floor sloped away in a long curve of sand. There were no significantly-sized stalactites or stalagmites, which might be explained by the fact that this room felt oddly dryer than anywhere else we had been in this cave. I took in a long breath, and realized that, in spite of this spot almost certainly being lower than where we had entered, the ceiling was high enough that fresh air from outside was stealing in.
It would have been an inconsequential location but for four complications: first, it was covered in webs. Second, other than the entrance at which we stood, there was no other obvious way in or out. Third, there were clear signs of struggle here, the sandy floor choppy with the imprints of feet, bodies, and thrashing, and there were some discolorations that might well have been blood. Fourth, in spite of the evidence that people had fought and likely died here, there were no bodies - no sign this was the monster's nest.
"Perhaps...the webs hide another point of egress," Ysabeau murmured.
It was worth a try. We spread out across the room, searching for some breach in the walls that would admit us, let alone a giant spidery monster, and came up with nothing. Crespin even scaled the walls at several points to better inspect the ceiling, but the outside air seemed to be coming in through a series of extremely narrow cracks and fissures, the largest of which he could only just fit his fingers into.
"Why would the monster bring its prey here to kill them, only to take them elsewhere to store and eat?" I asked.
"Perhaps it eats them whole," Endris offered.
"And it digests everything with perfect efficiency?" Gils replied with a sharp shake of his head. "There are no droppings, even."
"Besides, whatever this creature truly is," Crespin added, "it climbs and makes webs like a spider. Giant spiders cannot store up fat as we do - instead they must store their food. That is why so many use a paralyzing venom to bring unconsciousness but preserve life."
We were all silent, pondering the riddle - and then I felt a tickle - no, more than a tickle, a tingle, almost a pain, in my left hand.
My...missing left hand.
Perhaps it shouldn't have surprised me when a Fade rift opened in the center of the room a heartbeat later, certainly not as much as it surprised my companions - but it did.
Then the rift disgorged...a monster.
The first thing I noticed about it, before even really taking in its size or other deformations, was the fact that the torso of a Saarebas sat atop the horror, its skin a hideously unnatural mottle of red and deep purple. Nor was this a trophy or a meal claimed by an otherwise normal giant spider - the Saarebas moved, its hands collecting visible motes of energy and magic, as the spider legs under it scuttled towards us.
It was only then that I realized the bottom half was quite a large spider, the tops of its legs easily reaching Gils's height, with small shards of red lyrium poking from its flesh at various points. Though it sat too low to the ground for me to get a look, its underbelly shed an ominous red glow, implying that a higher percentage of its body was covered by crystals there. It had a spider's mouth and fangs, but the Saarebas was attached at the point at which its eyes had probably once resided.
All of us instantly scattered, diving for whatever cover we could find, but - perhaps because of my recent plans to enter the Fade - something about the rift itself drew my gaze even as I dived clear of the fire spell the Saarebas cast. I looked through the rift into the Fade and I realized - "The nest!" I shouted to my companions. "The nest is in the Fade!" And without another thought, without even hesitating to see if anyone else was likely to follow, I rushed past the monster and leapt through the rift.