The castle was interesting at first. Teryn Cousland had told them they should stay in the west wing, and avoid talking to anyone but the servants that were sent to attend them. There was a lot of traffic between Highever and Castle Cousland and he didn't want them to risk having someone report that they were staying there. He also hinted that Mathus and his father wouldn't be a problem for much longer, and Mama told Anders she thought the Teryn might have enough evidence to convict Mathus' father of smuggling.

"Does that mean he'll be thrown in jail, Mama?" Anders asked her. She was brushing his hair one morning in the bathroom (a whole room - next to the one they slept in - just for a bath!) and they were talking about when they'd be able to go back to Papa.

Mama's face turned grim in the mirror as she tied the blond strands back from his face. "From what I've heard it's more likely they'll hang him," she said. "There have been some deaths involved."

"He killed people?"

She nodded. "Or had them killed, which amounts to the same thing as far as punishment is concerned. The Teryn is very protective of his people."

"I know," Anders said. "Why is he helping us?"

"Because I helped his wife once," she said. "And because Nan is my friend. And because he is a good man who doesn't think we should be locked up for something we can't help."

"Is the Tower really that bad, Mama?"

She got up and moved to the bedroom, and he followed. "From what I know, it's a quiet place, where the mages study and help each other develop their magic."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

Mama laughed. "You could never be quiet enough for them, my darling," she said, sitting on the bed. "And although that sounds lovely in its own way... Anders they never let you out. You're in the Tower all the time. There are Templars in every room watching you to make sure you don't do something wrong or become evil or..." she shook his head.

"How do you know, Mama?" he asked. "You've never been there, have you?"

She shook her head. "No, my love," she said. "But I know... I knew someone... some people who were."

Anders thought for a moment about it. He liked studying. He knew he was good at it. When Mama and Papa had taught him to read it had been like a new world had opened up for him. But he also liked running around the city - he liked exploring the countryside. He liked getting caught in the rain sometimes, or making snowmen or better still pelting girls with snowballs. He liked looking at the people in the streets as they went about their business.

"Are mages allowed to have families Mama?" Anders asked.

She shook her head. "No."

"I'm glad you're not in the Tower," he said.

"So am I. And we'll keep you out of the tower too, Anders. Don't worry."

He worried. How could he not worry? And he worried about Jairo and Maeve as well, even though they still weren't sure about them. Mama said just because they hadn't shown any signs yet didn't mean they wouldn't - she hadn't been able to use magic until she was ten.

Two days later the Teryn came to see them. "Well," he said. "It looks like you'll be all right to leave the castle in a couple of days. We managed to catch Mathus' father's last shipment. He's in custody, and Mathus and his mother are leaving Highever. The Templars are without a witness, and they were suspicious of Mathus in any case."

Anders felt the tension drain out of Mama. She missed Jairo and Maeve, he knew. He did too. And Papa.

The Teryn smiled at them both. "I'll urge you to be careful, however," he said. "What I said before is still relevant. The Templars won't simply ignore you."

"They never do," Mama said. "But we can deal with them."

Two days later they were back at home. Anders was happy to be back with Maeve and Jairo and Papa, but he was nervous about going out to play with the other children. Although none of them truly liked Mathus, some of them had hung around with him, and he was frightened that while the adults didn't believe his story, the children might.

They didn't care. Mathus had teased everyone, even the children who hung around him. Not having him there was like having a weight lifted from the group. Although there were still boys and girls who were nasty none of them were as bad as he had been.

Anders tried to find out where he had gone but none of the children seemed to know. Some of them suggested they'd taken ship for Orlais. He found he didn't care enough to pursue it.

Papa and Mama argued about whether they should stay in Highever at all. Mama said if they left the Templars would be even more suspicious. Papa said they were safer on the move. In the end it was the Teryn who convinced them to stay, promising that they still had his protection.

A year passed. Then two.

"You don't have to swim," Anders said. "Just come down to the water with me."

"Mother says not to," Tia was being remarkably stubborn today. He wondered if that mother of hers had warned her off Anders. It would be typical of the woman. The smith's wife was shrewish and spouted Chantry nonsense at every opportunity, despite her rather reasonable and jovial husband. Anders didn't understand how the two of them could have produced Tia. Slender, milk pale skin and waves of auburn hair, the older boys had all started trying to gain her favour. Usually she was quite happy to go off with Anders and do things.. although she wouldn't let him kiss her. Anders was working on that one.

At fourteen he'd shot up to be almost as tall as his father and he had enjoyed the company of several of the Highever girls in the last season. He'd been surprised at first - girls had always been... well, aliens. Some of them were as much fun to play with as the boys, but most of them were boring and some of them were downright mean. But this season he'd actually been approached by a few of the older girls and suddenly he realised they were.. curvier and had nice, soft hair and other things that kept him awake at night.

The older boys whispered to him about ways to... encourage their company and although he had never done anything quite as graphic as what Thomas at the grocer's store described to him one sunny afternoon (Anders had gone home in a very thoughtful mood that day and Father had given him a funny look) he had spent a very instructional afternoon behind the Peacock and Grouse's stables with Portia the Baker's daughter. She'd been all giggly around him for weeks.

But now Portia (who was sixteen) was betrothed and not allowed to mix with the rest of the children (at least not in that way) so Anders had directed his attentions to Tia, who was younger than Portia and Anders and, rumour had it, going to be betrothed very soon. Tia's father had eyed Anders up and obviously dismissed him for that role the first time they'd met, although a few of the other parents had been looking at him with a more than critical eye lately. It made him nervous. Only old people got married.

Now Tia was telling him she wasn't going to go anywhere with him any more.

"Why not?" he asked, leaning against the wall of her house and giving her his most charming grin. He knew it was working, because she blushed and looked down.

"I've seen you with Beatrice," she said. Ah. "And Rose." Oh. "If you want me to go anywhere with you again, you'll have to stop seeing them."

At least she didn't see me with Fiona... he thought. But he stood up and dusted his hands on his shirt, mind racing through his repertoire for a story that would convince her of his... well if not his innocence, at least his intention of possibly being so in the future. "You don't understand.. Tia..." he started, but was interrupted by the figure of his little sister flying towards him. At nine years old she was starting to look more and more like Father, although she had Mama's eyes and the disconcerting habit of knowing exactly what to say in any given situation to embarrass her brother.

"Anders, Anders, Anders!" she barreled into him at top speed, nearly knocking him over.

"Easy, Maeve," he said, throwing a pained smile in Tia's direction.. but the redhead was already moving off. Anders frowned down at his sister. "It better be good, sis."

She shook her head, looking serious. "Mama's back. Father sent me to find you."

Mama wasn't due back for another week - she'd gone to collect herbs and visit a few of the outlying villages and farms. If she was back, something was wrong. Maeve was tugging on his hand, pulling him towards the shop and he allowed himself to be led, wondering what could have happened, if they would need to leave again or if...

Just get home and ask her already! He increased his pace to match Maeve's and they were home soon after.

Mama was sitting in their kitchen, on the big chair - the one that everyone fought over when she wasn't home. She looked tired and Anders knew, even before he was fully in the room, that she was sick. Father was sitting next to her on the arm of the chair, his fingers in her hair. She had leant her head on his shoulder and her eyes were closed, but Anders knew she was hurting with his special sense and it was a hurt he'd never felt before in anyone.

She looked up when she heard them enter and caught his eyes with hers. She knows, he thought. In that one moment he felt like she had told him everything - she's been hiding it for months. Why didn't I pay more attention? When did it start?

I can heal her. He had his hands out in front of him before he could finish the thought but Mama leapt up and crossed the room in one stride, grasping his hands firmly. "No," she said. "Not here."

His power dissipated - he was so used to following her commands when it came to his magic that it felt like she'd dispelled it herself.

"We need to get out of the town," he said. "Now."

She brushed his hair from his forehead. "Anders, you can't do this."

"I can."

"I've tried, darling. I'm sorry."

"I'm stronger than you," he said, realising as he said it that it was true, and frightening for both of them. "You need to let me."

Papa was standing behind Mama then, his face a study in worry. He put his hands on Mama's shoulders and squeezed. "Joscelyn," he said. "Why not let him try?"

"I know this illness, Felix," she said, turning to Father, although she still held Anders' hands in hers. "I've tried to heal it before. It... it always comes back. Anders will just exhaust himself if he tries."

Papa cupped her chin in his hands. "Please?" he said softly. "For all of us?"

Mama's fingers tightened on his, although she was still looking at Papa. Jairo was clinging to Papa's trousers, his big dark eyes wide and fixed on his mother. Maeve was standing behind Anders in the doorway. He felt her small hand tug at his elbow. They didn't know what was going on. Not even Papa fully knew, Anders was certain.

"Mama?" he said softly. His mother let out a long sigh.

"I'll let him try," she said, then turned back to Anders. "But Anders, it will be me who tells you when to stop. You have to stop when I tell you to, do you understand?"

Anders nodded, hope burning in his chest.

"We'll help you get packed," Papa said then, and Anders could see the tension leaking out of his frame. Papa trusted him, he realised. It made him feel proud, but there was a tight kernel of fear in his belly that would not go away.

I can heal her, he said to himself. I can.