More family coming tonight, but hopefully I won't be as busy as I was last week. Crossing my fingers, anyway.

A Message Delivered

Leliana waited for me to seek her out - a kindness, considering that I still mourned Hawke and mourned Varric's grief at her loss.

I did wait a few days, but the reckoning couldn't be put off forever, and I had a message from a dead Divine to deliver.

Though I had already filed my report, I hadn't put Justinia's words for Leliana in it - just the fact that they existed. Still, I knew Cassandra would have delivered them - and by that same token I also knew Leliana would want to speak to me as well as to Cassandra, to question me about my observations and impressions.

My spymaster had claimed one of Adamant's towers and made it over into a rookery nearly - though not quite - large enough to rival Skyhold's. I could tell by the sound alone. I suspected that she intended to leave behind a contingent of her agents to keep an eye on and report back about the Wardens, at least until Cullen came up with a plan for them. She was sitting at a table on the top floor, and when I came close enough I saw a second chair and two bright spots that resolved into metal goblets, both already filled with wine.

Leliana was expecting me, it seemed.

I took the seat across from her without comment, and sipped the wine.

"I have been thinking about the Fade, and what you experienced there - both times," she told me, not bothering with a greeting. "You remember everything now, yes? The explosion at Haven. The Fade. Escaping the Breach. In your report, you said you remember Justinia there with you. But only you emerged in the end." She took a breath. "Why? Why were you the only survivor?"

It took me a moment to understand her real question: why had her Maker allowed Justinia to die? "I can't say why - at least not in a grander sense. When demons came for us, she gave herself up and pushed me toward the rift. I tried to hold onto her, but…she charged me with telling the world what had happened. I…knew I had to, since she couldn't. I don't think I lost my memories until I passed out - then the Nightmare was able to reach me."

"That sounds like her," Leliana sighed, sounding both grieved and proud. "Her message to me…I'm not sure I understand what it means."

"You don't?" I asked, remembering the Divine's voice, steady yet filled with sorrow as she offered up those last words. "But between you and Cassandra, surely - "

Leliana rose abruptly. "Did she say anything else? Anything at all? Please, if you remember…"

"She…sounded sad," I offered. "But those were her only words - or the only ones specifically directed at you. I recorded everything else as well as I was able in my report."

"There are no answers in the Fade," Leliana said, her voice hardening. "Only illusions. A warped mirror. Justinia never failed me." She turned her back on me, perhaps staring out the tower's only window, which I could see only as a bright spot in the dark wall. "I was her Left Hand. Now she is dead. I failed her ."

"The Fade can be a warped mirror," I allowed, "though only in the sense that any person can be a warped mirror for reality, because the Fade is shaped by the emotions and perceptions of those who touch it. Whatever feelings drove the spirit-reflection of Justinia to say what she said, they were real. I can't tell you why, or whether the words were the right ones to put to what Justinia felt - but the feelings that drove them were accurate."

"I don't want to think she died believing that she was somehow a failure," Leliana said, her voice thick with unshed tears.

"No," I agreed. "I…can see why you wouldn't. Ir abelas. I wish I could give you more clarity."

She heaved a sigh. "I received word from Josephine about your clan last night," she said, changing the subject. "She passed on a letter from Jester." She returned to the table and spent a moment fishing among her papers before handing it to me. "You may as well read it for yourself, but your clan is still secure. Our next move depends on what you want to do about the root of the threat."

I read through Jester's letter, and then looked up at Leliana, still standing just on the other side of the table. Her expression wasn't perfectly clear, but I thought her lips were drawn into an unhappy grimace. "Plague," I said. "That doesn't make sense. Humans and elves are susceptible to the same diseases, and illness almost always begins among the poorest and weakest."

"My thoughts precisely," my spymaster agreed. "Something else is going on - something we can't yet see. Poison, perhaps."

"A Venatori plot to direct aggression at my clan?" I offered, thinking that it sounded a bit far-fetched…but not as far-fetched as one of the sidereal magisters of legend coming back to force his way into the Fade to become a god.

"Quite possibly," Leliana answered. "If there are Venatori among the duke's advisors…"

"It would be nice to ferret them out," I said, turning it over.

"Josephine suggests sending in one of her ambassadors - Duke Antoine is, ostensibly, an ally of the Inquisition and greater notice from us would raise his status among the nobility of the Marches, which means he would be unlikely to turn our ambassador away." She sounded unconvinced.

"You don't agree," I observed.

"I wouldn't say that," she replied. "I think Josephine's path likely to be effective - I'm only concerned about its efficiency. The quickest way to eliminate the threat may be an assassination."

"The threat from Duke Antoine, perhaps," I countered, "but if Venatori have worked themselves into positions of power, one may take over - or may have influence over whichever noble does take over. To truly make my clan safe, we need to eliminate every trace of their influence that we can find. I think Josephine's way is the most thorough , and thoroughness outweighs efficiency in this instance."

Leliana spent another moment considering my words. "You're right, Inquisitor. Investigation may turn up targets to take into custody for questioning, and anything more we can learn of the Venatori and their goals can only help us."

"We've already stopped the full corruption of the southern Wardens due to such information," I agreed. "But that means our intelligence isn't fresh any longer. More would be welcome."

"I'll write to Josephine with your orders." Leliana slid into her chair, pulling a fresh sheet of paper from a tidy pile at her elbow.

"Are you all right?" I asked her before she could begin.

"Are any of us?" she countered, and then let out a long breath. "It hurts. It never stops hurting. Still, we must keep going, mustn't we? What other choice is there?"

She clearly didn't expect me to answer and readied herself to begin writing. "Is there anything else I should read through while I'm here?" I asked.

"Always, Inquisitor," she told me, glancing up again. She nudged a pile of reports toward me, clearly expecting me to take them and go, but I took the top one and settled back in my chair.

"Here is as good as anywhere," I said, feeling rather than seeing the curiosity in her gaze.

Her voice held a small smile: "Yes, of course. Thank you, Inana."

Keeping her company felt like the very least I could do, and so we worked in companionable silence for a long period - her writing missives and me acquainting myself with updates on our various concerns. There was initial word from the Shaperate (a rejection, but a soft one that, Dagna noted in the margins, was practically an invitation for further negotiation), and preliminary findings from the team studying red lyrium (it could be purified by enough very hot fire, but was also prone to exploding, sending toxic red lyrium dust everywhere if not properly contained within barriers a dozen or more layers thick).

I felt Leliana's eyes on me more than once, and glanced up a few times to see her lips curving in a smile that I thought might be called "affectionate" even though I couldn't see her expression very clearly.

When midday came, we left her tower together to find a meal, my arm threaded through hers, and I was glad I had stayed to keep her company.

Afterward, I went to do the other task I had been putting off: speaking to Livius Erimond.

Adamant had no dungeons as such - Wardens killed darkspawn, they didn't hold criminals. There were, however, a few sparsely furnished rooms for holding people who became violent for one reason or another. Sometimes the taint, for instance, brought madness before it brought death - or so Stroud told me. As such, the doors of the rooms were outfitted with barred windows through which their occupants could be observed and spoken to.

Stroud himself showed me to the one that held Erimond.

"How is his magic being controlled?" I asked the Warden as we approached.

"Small doses of magebane, I'm afraid," he answered with a grimace. "We have no other means without making him Tranquil, and your spymaster insisted you object to Tranquility on principle."

"I do," I agreed with a shudder. "Is he very ill?"

"He isn't vomiting up everything he eats," Stroud replied, "though I'm told he never stops complaining of nausea. He has tried to stop eating once or twice, and the powdered version had to be…administered."

I winced. Magebane was much more potent when breathed in.

"Do you want me to remain at your side?" the Warden asked. "I'm certain you will find him unpleasant. He recants none of his faith or actions - defeat has, if anything, made him even more of a miserable zealot than he was before."

"No - stay close in case he's waiting with some sort of surprise, but I doubt his words can hurt me," I answered. "He was so eager to talk before that I can't discount the possibility he will let something useful slip now, but I'm not expecting much."

"As you please, Your Worship," Stroud replied. "Call me if you have need of me."

I nodded and he left me outside the door, drawing the guard who had been stationed there after him.

Erimond's aura was sickly. Even though I had only once seen the effects of a mage suffering from magebane, I recognized its influence on the halo of color and sensation that surrounded him. Even so, he drew himself up to his full height when he saw me through the door, and I presumed the look on his face was equal parts disdain and hauteur, though I couldn't see his expression. "Release me," he demanded. "You have no right to hold me."

"Don't be any more of a fool than you have to be, Erimond," I sighed, taking the chair the guard had vacated. "If Tevinter handed over Alexius for judgment, they certainly won't intervene on your behalf, and after what you've done to the Wardens, no one else will be inclined to, either. I'm certain I could do anything I liked to you." He began to protest his own importance, but I cut him off: "You know, you have the distinction of being the first person I've ever met who may actually deserve Tranquility."

That shook him. I saw the sudden roiling of his aura, and he tried - perhaps on instinct - to summon a spell. It fizzled in his hands, of course, and made him choke and gag, besides, as the magebane he had been given surged. "You…you cannot!" he gasped. "I am a lord, pissant! I cannot be treated this way!"

"On the contrary - you can easily be treated that way, just as thousands of other mages in the south have been for much too long," I told him, feeling more weary than triumphant. "It's your good fortune that I'm less inclined to give you what you deserve than I am to follow my own principles." I paused thoughtfully. "I might prefer rehabilitate even you if it seemed possible, especially if you have useful information to offer. So tell me, Lord Erimond: can you be reformed?"

"I serve a living god," he spat. "Death holds no fear for me - glory awaits me in the world beyond."

"I doubt that," I told him. "There is no reason to believe that Corypheus can reshape the Fade to his will in that way, and he certainly hasn't done it yet. Your spirit will pass through into the Beyond as all mortal spirits do. Death is as final for you as it is for anyone, and I know the Wardens will demand your death if I don't have a compelling reason to keep you alive."

"Their petty 'justice' or yours, it matters not," he intoned. "All truth lies in the next world."

"All right, then I'll let Stroud have you," I sighed, rising from the chair again. "If you insist on being too dangerous to leave alive, then your death can serve to cement his command of the Wardens. Thank you for speaking with me. Now if you will excuse me, I have to hurry off to Halamshiral to disrupt your master's plans there , as well."

I heard him begin to sputter, but I was already walking away.