"Of course. It had to be you, you backwards, selfish, whore-devouring sack of tits!"

Adele flinched. If anyone in the Alienage heard her say something like that, she would have limped to her chores with a sore bottom and a mouthful of soap. Only when Zevran touched her wrist and brought a single finger to his lips did she realize she was holding her breath. She silently released the little gasp of air and joined him in watching Donal.

The mage's face was streaked blotchy scarlet as he spewed obscenities at the man locked in a prison cell in the basement of Redcliffe castle. They obviously knew each other, but the vitriol that came so easily to Donal, his anger, made Adele's throat seize up. She couldn't remember ever being that furious, even with Vaughn and all of his atrocities; sadness and shame it seemed were always the first emotions that bubbled to her surface.

Her father had taught her to embrace a softer touch. The bending willow was able to survive the storms while the proud oak was uprooted. Her mother had been prone to spikes in temper, as had Shianni. They had both suffered for their principles.

The imprisoned man locked his hands around the bars of his cell. Greasy, dark hair clung to his face and the bruise on his cheek looked a few days old. "I never thought I'd see you again, of all people."

"That's it?" Donal spluttered. "That's all you can think to say after what you did?" He lurched forward and gripped the bars as he continued screaming. "I trusted you! I helped you! And for what? So the Knight Commander could label me an elopement risk? So you could skip a village over and poison an arl? Your phylactery's gone and this is the best you can come up with? You-"

"I know-"

"-Ass philandering-"

"-For all I know, the arl's already dead-"

"-piss ant-"

"Donal, please-"

"-waste of seed-"

"Donal..."

"Maker forsaken vial of excrement!"

"Donal!" the prisoner snapped over Donal's tirade. "Will you just shut up? I need to know! What became of Lily?"

That got a laugh out of Donal. "Lily? Now you're concerned?"

The smells of dust and wet stone were overcast by metal and blood. Adele wished there was more light in the dungeon, her companions' faces turned strange colors beneath the sparse flickering torches.

"They didn't hurt her, did they?" the other man sounded desperate as he clung to the bars. "The thought that she might have paid for my crime..."

"What do you think?" Donal let go of the bars long enough to wave his hands around madly. "It was all laughs and kittens once you left? Aeonar, you dolt! She went to Aeonar, the joyful resort for Chantry girls who disregard their vows!"

"Oh." The prisoner swallowed and brought a hand to the mottled bruise on his cheek. "My poor Lily! She must hate me now, if she even lives. What have I done?"

"Turned to blood magic and poisoned an arl," Donal replied. He turned to face the others and gestured to the cell behind him. "This is Jowan."

"Oh, bloody hell," Jowan muttered. "You brought Nema along."

"Hello, Jowan," Nema said. Adele didn't know much about Nema, but she did know she didn't appreciate the way the other woman was smiling.

"A blood mage?" Alistair asked. "You know this man?"

"He's my best friend," Donal said. "I think. I don't know, anymore. What do you say, Jowan?"

Jowan grimaced. "We were friends, once. I know I don't deserve to call you that after what I did."

"You foolish ass!" Donal was back to raging at the cell bars. "Why would you poison the arl?"

Jowan glanced over his shoulder as if some specter in the shadows of his prison could overhear. He crept close to the bars and then lowered his voice. "I was instructed to by Teryn Loghain," he said. "I was told that Arl Eamon was a threat to Ferelden, that if I dealt with him Loghain would settle matters with the Circle."

"Why would an apostate be welcome in Redcliffe Castle?" Adele murmured.

Her question was answered by Zevran's hand gripped around her wrist. He made a shushing noise. "Sometimes, we get more answers by not intervening," he whispered. "Sit back and enjoy the show."

"All I wanted was to be able to return," Jowan said. "But he abandoned me here, didn't he? Everything's fallen apart. I never thought it would end like this!"

Donal's brow sunk down to an angrier expression, but he kept silent.

"Maker, I've made so many mistakes." Jowan buried his face in his hands. "I've disappointed so many people... I wish I could go back and fix it. I just want to make everything right again."

Donal pinched the bridge of his nose. "So the teryn hired you to poison Arl Eamon."

Jowan dropped his hands. "Connor had started to show... signs," he said. "Lady Isolde was terrified the Circle of Magi would take him away for training."

"Connor?" Alistair interrupted with a furrowed brow. "A mage? I can't believe it!"

That got a wry grin out of Donal. "Noble bloodlines aren't allowed a bit of magic now and then, are they?"

"She sought a mage outside the Circle, to teach her son in secret so he could learn to hide his talent," Jowan continued. "Her husband had no idea."

Donal crossed his arms. "And you have nothing to do with-"

"No!"

"Just like you had nothing to do with blood magic?"

"I dabbled!" Jowan ran a hand though his filthy hair and winced at some invisible injury. "I know it looks suspicious, but I'm not responsible for the creatures and the killings in the castle. I was already imprisoned when it began."

"And the only other mage in the castle is a boy." Nema raised one delicate eyebrow.

"I thought that, too," Jowan replied. "Connor has little knowledge of magic, but he may have done something to tear open the Veil."

"Or he's an abomination, now," Nema said.

"I forgot how pleasant you were, Nema," Jowan scoffed. "No, no, no, he could have just loosed some demons through the Veil or it could be someone else. I don't know."

She shrugged. "Or he has a demon inside him. All of these are possible."

"Is there something we can do if the boy's an abomination?" Adele asked. Her voice sounded taut and metallic as it bounced off the dank corridors.

"A quick, painless death." Alistair's mouth twisted, angry at the words that just left his lips.

"The arl's a decent man," Jowan said. "I wondered how he could possibly be the threat Loghain said he was, but I did it anyway. I'm such a fool."

Donal sighed. He pushed his back against the cell and slid down the bars until he was sitting on the stone floors. He looked away from Jowan and towards his companions. "So what do you intend to do about it?"

"I'm sick of running away and hiding from what I've done," Jowan said. "I want to fix it any way I can. Please, if my friendship meant anything, help me fix this."

Donal's gaze dropped from them and focused on his knees. "I can't make this decision," he muttered. "I'm too involved."

"Please, I'm begging you!" The bars stood steadfast as Jowan tried to shake them. "Won't you help me try and do one thing right in my life?"

"I say this boy could still be of use to us." As Morrigan stepped forward, the shadows seemed to dart away from her body. She stood over Donal and ignored everyone else. "But if not, then let him go. Why keep him prisoner here?"

"Hey, hey!" Alistair exclaimed. "Let's not forget that he's a blood mage! You can't just set a blood mage free!"

Anytime Alistair screamed or got angry, it sent Adele's heart pounding through her chest. She wondered if there was a way to make him behave more reserved. Or for her to recognize him as harmless. Zevran's hand was still around her wrist and he idly rubbed at her frantic pulse point.

Morrigan turned from Donal and toward Alistair. "Better to slay him?" she demanded. "Better to punish him for his choices? Is this Alistair who speaks, or the Templar?"

He twisted his face from hers, his nose in the air. "I'd say it's common sense." Alistair crossed his arms. "We don't even know the whole story, yet."

"But we do," Nema replied. She walked over to Donal and bent over to look him in the eye. "Donal, stop being pathetic and stand up."

"Please, Donal," Jowan begged. His voice began to curve up, higher and more desperate. "Don't leave my fate in her hands."

"He's your friend," Alistair told Donal. "You know him best."

"Alright." Donal stood up and dusted off the back of his robe. "Jowan, I want to let you go. It's stupid, I shouldn't, but I do. But what are you going to do if I set you free?"

"I'd..." Jowan blinked. "Well, I'd try to save anyone still in the castle. There must be something I can do."

Nema grasped the mechanism on the cell door and opened it. "I think you're right, Donal." Her nostrils flared and her words sounded awkward and uncomfortable on her tongue.

"Oh?" Donal's eyebrows shot up. "Because suddenly I am now unsure."

"Morrigan made a good point," Nema said. "Leaving him here is a waste of resources."

"What now?" Jowan asked.

"You come with us," Donal said.

Jowan hesitated, still in his cell. "I'm not sure that's a good idea." He staggered into the hallway and lifted his robe up to his knees. His ankles were blackened with dried blood and the skin was torn and inflamed. "Lady Isolde had me tortured when I wouldn't confess to the walking corpses. I'd like to help, but I'd slow you down."

"That ankle's shattered," Adele murmured.

"Sloppy work, too," Zevran replied.

"Then help," Donal said. "Just don't make anything worse."

"I won't, I promise." Jowan clapped a hand on Donal's shoulder and squeezed. "I'll find a way to fix this, somehow."

Jowan dragged his one leg behind him as he limped off down the hallway. Nema shook her head as she watched.

"Why didn't you heal him?" Adele asked.

Nema's answer was curt. "We're not healers," she said.

Donal shrugged. "The school of magic is just that," he said, "a school. And while we all learn rudimentary techniques, there are certain areas that individual mages excel or flounder in. Like Nema, there, she's a natural in the School of Power and all that primal destruction."

"And you?" Adele asked.

"Nothing," Nema said.

"Thanks, Nema!" Donal offered her a quick salute and an eye roll. "Not quite sure on that, yet. I'm just glad they didn't make me tranquil. Anyway, Jowan's a better healer than myself and I could see that he already tended to his ankle before we found him."

"So we should try to avoid injury without Wynne around," Zevran noted.

"Always a good rule of thumb," Donal replied," even with Wynne around."

Adele ducked under the cobwebs that draped support beams as they made their way to the dungeon's exit and up the stone spiral staircase that led into the castle. It felt less like a home and more like a crypt with the lack of servants scurrying about. Minstrel music drifted down the long corridors when they reached the main floor.

It was too quiet. Quiet enough for the music to softly echo, quiet enough for their footsteps to reverberate. Adele could hear the pounding of her heart, off beat with Zevran's breathing, as frantic as Donal's feet against the stone. As they entered the main hall, she was struck with how completely out of place she was there. The carpet was dyed a deep, expensive crimson, elaborate tapestries adorned the wall and the throne was covered with gilt.

It was a strange intrusion of sorts. It was too empty. It should have been filled with people more sophisticated than she was with her mixed metal engagement ring and tatty heirloom boots.

Those undead creatures were the source of the music. One plucked feverishly at a lute while Bann Teagan danced. Teagan was still alive. At least, Adele thought he was. His smile was unnaturally wide and his body jerked as if he were a marionette and someone else was in control of the strings. In the center of it all, a little boy clapped his hands and giggled. Isolde stood, her face decorated with old tears as she watched her son.

Alistair was bold enough to rush to the front, while Nema just stood back and crossed her arms. All Adele could hear was her long inhale of air as the bann cartwheeled and then somersaulted. Her heart was fighting its way out of her chest as her blood chilled her and slowed her movements.

"So these are our visitors," the child, Connor, said. The words left Connor's mouth, rather. The voice was deeper, not human, Adele wasn't quite sure what. "The ones you told me about, Mother?"

Isolde didn't look at Connor as she stammered, "Yes, Connor."

"And these are the ones who defeated my soldiers?" Not-Connor asked. Was this what Nema meant by an abomination? "The ones I sent to reclaim my village?"

"Yes!" Isolde stretched her chin upward and bit down on her lower lip.

Adele had tried that move many times to still her tears. It usually only worked long enough for her to run back and find her father. She turned to Zevran. His kind, almost teacher-like expression was gone. Now, his fingers twisted around his daggers in a firm grip as his eyes darted from the three doorways to the undead musicians that abandoned their instruments.

"And now they're staring at me!" Not-Connor bellowed. "What are they, Mother? I can't see them well enough."

Isolde turned to her son, her hands outstretched. "Connor, I beg you, don't hurt anyone!"

The boy gripped at his head and swayed. "M-mother?" His voice was soft and high. Nothing like before. Adele could see Isolde's lip tremble as she reached for her child. "What's happening? Where am I?"

"Oh, thank the Maker!" Isolde fell to her knees and crushed the boy against her chest. "Connor! Connor, can you hear me?"

It was too good, too simple. The undead creatures were posturing and clanging their swords against their shields. Connor's face contorted and he was gone in the time it took him to strike his mother in the face.

"Get away from me, fool woman!" It raged with its fists still clenched. "You are beginning to bore me."

"Maker's breath," Alistair breathed. "What has happened here?"

"Grey Wardens," Isolde said. Still on her knees, she ignored the red welt on her cheek. "Please don't hurt my son. He's not responsible for what he does!"

"Bann Teagan." Donal raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the man who sat on the ground like a discarded toy. "What did you do to him?"

"Here I am!" The bann seemed to inflate as his shrill voice bounced off the walls. "Here am I! Ha ha!"

"Right," Donal muttered.

"I like him better this way," Not-Connor said. "No more yelling; now he amuses me."

"Connor didn't mean to do this!" Isolde insisted.

There was a certain resonance to her voice. It reminded Adele of herself when she had implored Vaughn so long ago. Shianni didn't mean to do that. Nobody needed to get hurt over an accident.

Isolde hadn't bothered to get up from her knees, yet. There was a pathetic nature to her now, one that overcast her earlier regal air. Was she trying to convince them, or herself? "It was that mage!" she continued in one strained breath. "The one that poisoned Eamon- he started all of this! He summoned this demon! Connor was just trying to help his father!"

"It was a fair deal!" The demon declared. It smiled with Connor's face. "Father is alive, just as I wanted. Now it's my turn to sit on the throne and send out armies to conquer the world! Nobody tells me what to do anymore!"

"Nobody tells him what to do!" Teagan chanted as he raised his weapon and jerked upright. "Nobody!"

"I crave excitement!" Demon-Connor pointed his finger at them. "And action! You spoiled my sport by saving that stupid village and now you'll repay me!"

He darted off through the closest exit. Adele looked back to Zevran, but he was already stalking toward the closest undead creature with a sword. With Teagan at the head, all the monsters had surrounded them while Connor had talked.

"Kill the others!" Alistair shouted. "Leave Bann Teagan to me!"

Adele swallowed and reached for her daggers. With his sword raised, Bann Teagan charged at them.