And there is our map, showing the progress of our four stalwarts from Ostagar up the Imperial Highway to West Hill, just across the narrow Waking Sea from their destination. Vashti argues heatedly with several ship captains, none of whom want to sail to the Wounded Coast. The Dalish grimace and are at the point of accepting Kirkwall as their destination, but it's Finn who insists they dock elsewhere. Pointing to the letter granting him a leave of absence from the Ferelden Circle, he says that he's heard the Kirkwall templars are unusually strict and may confiscate it, and him!

So a decidedly shady-looking character operating a small skiff is found. The crossing is rough in such a small craft, and everyone, even the dog, feels ill. But the smuggler leaves them on the wild sandy shore as promised, and they begin their trek to Sundermount. Following Keeper Nessal's directions, they begin to find the hidden signs the Dalish use to signal one another that a camp is nearby...

Seven years. Seven years since she had been home; six since Ashalle had braved the strange streets of Denerim to embrace her after the Archdemon's fall. It had not always been a happy home, with the shadow of her father's corruption and death lying over her, but she missed it all the same. Maren singing to the halla, Junar and Fenarel boasting about their skill with the bow, Hahren Paivel's stories and the rasp of Master Ilen's methodical work all wove together in memory, tied up with Keeper Marethari's sonorous invocations to the gods.

"Are you excited?" Ariane asked.

Vashti jolted out of the reverie. "Nervous," she answered, after a moment's thought. The da'len her age had never even seen a shemlen before Duncan came; Marethari was much stricter about sequestering the clan than her father had been. What would they think of her now, having spent seven years among them? And bringing one into the very encampment?

Perhaps they should not approach with Finn. She could leave the dog with him and ask the Keeper's permission to bring him into camp. That would be more proper. She turned to speak to the mage behind her, but Finn was frowning at something above the tree tops. "Those are big birds. Are they the flesh-rending sort, do you think? Can we avoid them?"

Vashti turned back around to follow his gaze. Dark, broad-winged shapes wheeled and circled in the sky. "Ravens, I think," Ariane said. "Scavengers. They shouldn't bother us."

"A bad omen," Vashti muttered, thinking of Fear and Deceit, the two birds Dirthamen conquered in the Beyond.

"There's... a lot of them," Finn observed nervously. "What lives - or I suppose dies - up here that would attract so many? Are there dragons?"

"Calm down," Ariane said. "The clan has been here for years, I'm sure they've made the area monster-safe."

Vashti stared at the sky, then suddenly seized Ariane's wrist. "Something's wrong."

"What?"

She thought that if she turned her head, just a bit, she would seethe Dread Wolf stalking her. "They wouldn't leave a large pile of carrion so close to a camp."

Ariane's eyes widened, and she nodded. She had to gently tug twice before Vashti realized that she needed to let go of her wrist. The warrior drew her swords, and Vashti unlimbered her bow. Finn swallowed. "What's happened?"

"Don't know. We go carefully," Vashti said.

They passed the statue of Fen'Harel, but no sentry challenged them. From ahead came the sound of banners snapping in the wind, but otherwise silence. No singing, no boasting. No stories, no carving. No prayers.

Perhaps they left after all. We will arrive only to find they have left for Ostagar.

The clan banners came into view; beyond them, the aravels were still arranged around a central glade. Of course, they had no halla. They would have left the aravels, walked...

A raven stooped from above, and settled on a corpse.

One body. Two. Three...

Vashti stopped in horror, her companions likewise going still. All around the campsite were elven bodies.

The Sabrae were dead.

All...

All dead.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and stumbled forward, away from it. Staring, floating somewhere just outside herself, she drifted into the camp.

"Maker's breath! What happened here? ...Vashti, wait! It could be a plague!"

Vashti supposed that made some sense. She looked down at... who? Unknowable. The face was black char. Fire. Intense fire. The grass wasn't burned. Probably magical. Or a dragon.

There was a soft rustle to her left; another raven alighted, hopping toward one of the dead.

She stopped floating, pulled back into herself by the raging need to kill the vile bird that would disturb the dead. Her bow was already in her hand; she nocked and arrow and loosed.

She did not wait to see that she made her target before swinging around, sighting on another raven. And another, and another, until the birds took to the air. And then she shot them out of the sky, letting them fall like soft black hail, until her quiver was empty.

Then she fell down and cried, because her quiver was empty and now the ravens would come to eat her dead, her clan, her family.

A cold, wet thing nudged her tear-streaked cheek; when she did not rise, the dog whined in her ear and licked at her face. She half-sat up, throwing her arms around the dog, old dog, loyal dog from Ostagar, another tainted creature saved from death and thrown against the Blight. The clan had never met the mabari and now they never would and that was horrible, too.

The music of chain and plate, the smell of steel and oil signaled Ariane kneeling beside her. "We will discover who or what did this," she promised, voice low and thick with anger and a less personal, but no less real, grief, "and we will pour out the burning fury of Elgar'nan upon them."

Vashti sobbed and nodded agreement into the dog's shoulder.

They stayed like that, huddled wordlessly on the damp ground (how could spring flowers bloom in earth so watered by blood?). "I think Finn is making graves," Ariane said at length. "He is strong with stone magics."

"Good," Vashti managed to choke out. Of course, they would need to give the dead proper -

"Ah! Ow! Ow ow ow!"

"Go away, shemlen, before I kill you!"

Both women and the dog came to their feet at the sound of Finn's shouts and the high, young voice. The mage was staggering back away from his work, not far from the last aravel up the mountain. His staff was on the ground, and he clutched at his left shoulder, blood seeping from between his fingers.

"Atisha! Atisha!" Ariane had the presence of mind to call for peace in the Dalish tongue.

"What? Who's there?" A parti-colored face, soft and young, and top limb of a bow appeared over the rear of the aravel. "Go away! Leave us! Many hunters will return soon, you should go now!"

"Hunters?" Vashti croaked, heart lifting in hope. Could there be other survivors?

"Da'len," Ariane sheathed her weapons and held up empty hands, "I am Ariane, of Solan's clan. Our clans met five, six years ago. This is your clan-sister, Mahariel. Aneth ara."

"Why did you bring this shemlen here?" the child demanded.

"He's a friend," Ariane said, daring to move closer. "He wants to help the dead to pass Beyond, to bury them properly."

"I've been trying," the boy said, bow wavering. "It's... it's very hard..."

"Creators, you're so young." Then Ariane gasped. "Tamlen?"

Vashti felt her knees go weak and her throat close up, and the boy raised his bow again. "How'd you know my name?"

"I said, our clans met a few years ago. You were a baby. They let me hold you for a bit, and I remember your name."

"Are you going to kill the people who did this?"

"Yes."

"Then... then all right." Tamlen disappeared from sight momentarily, and Finn - now seated on the ground and still clutching his shoulder - quietly healed himself. The aravel's door opened, and the boy came warily out.

His face was half-covered in ash - an imitation, Vashti realized, of Falon'Din's vallaslin. If he had felt the need to mark himself as a man, then... "You said the... that hunters would be returning?"

He shook his head, and the new-born hope withered. "I was trying to scare you. There's not... nobody else... I tried to do the rites by myself but it takes a really long time to dig. Ah-abelas..."

Ariane knelt down so that she was his height, and reached out a hand to him. "Tamlen. It's all right."

He took her hand hesitantly, then looked at Vashti. "But you're really Mahariel? Keeper said you are a great warrior. They were witches who were here, who did this. Can you kill witches?"

Awkwardly, Vashti knelt down, too. "Tell me who they are, and they will pay."

The boy closed his eyes to remember. "There were two shemlen, a woman with dark hair and a man with light. Keeper knew them, and so did others in the clan. And they had a Dalish woman with them." He opened his eyes. "I think she must be the witch Keeper warns us about. She used to be one of us, but went to dark places."

Vashti's mouth went dry. "Merrill?"

Tamlen frowned. "A lot of people were saying that name. Is that the witch?"

"Perhaps." It tallied with what Keeper Nessal said had happened, but she hoped there would be some other way to explain this. Keeper Marethari as much Merrill's mother as Ashalle had been hers; she couldn't understand how a First could turn on her own people like this. "Did they say any other names?"

He shook his head. "When they left, I asked Mother who the shemlen were. She just told me to stay away from them. And then they left, and everyone was happy at first. But then someone said the Keeper was missing, and some of the hunters gathered and went up the mountain to search for her. Some of them came back, fighting. With the two shemlen and the witch, who were all throwing fire and lightning and... and..." Tamlen's eyes grew bright with tears, and he looked down at the ground.

"You are very brave," Ariane said softly.

"No I'm not!" the boy answered, hands balling into fists. "Mother hid me in the aravel and told me not to come out, and I just hid in there! I didn't do anything!I just hid!"

"Da'len." Ariane tried to draw him into an embrace, but he pushed her away. "You weren't meant to fight three mages. Your mother's spirit rejoices that you were spared."

Who had his parents been? Did Variel finally bond? Junar and Maren, blessed by the Creators at last? How could Ariane sit there and speak of 'his mother' when she didn't even know?

It was an unreasonable anger; she shook her head as if it might toss it aside. "When did this happen? And where did the mages go?"

"Three days," the boy answered. "It was three days ago. And I don't know. The shemlen city, maybe?"

The plan fell into place like slabs of iron, solid with purpose to wall off the pain. "We can start with the templars. Ask them about any Circle expeditions out here, or any powerful apostates they're aware of."

"You... you're going to go into the shemlen city?" Tamlen stared at Vashti with wide eyes. "But... we're not to go into such places. We'll get sick and our ears will get flat!"

"It will be hard to do what needs to be done with a child in tow," Ariane murmured. "But we can't just leave him here by himself."

Vashti considered, then summoned the dog with a glance. As he bounded over, tongue lolling out, Tamlen scrabbled to get behind Ariane. "Mythal protect me, it's the Dread Wolf!"

"This is a mabari," Vashti said. "Dog, this is Tamlen. He is my clan-brother." The dog whuffled in the child's direction, then barked. "You will care for him?" The dog barked twice and bounced around happily, stump tail wagging. "And if we don't return, can you take him home?"

The dog stopped bouncing, put his ears back and whined. "Just in case," Vashti reassured him. He whined again and licked his nose, but barked. "Good dog," she said. "Tamlen," she turned to the boy, who was watching their conversation with disbelief, "we can make you a small camp and provision it. The dog will guard you well, as he has guarded me in all my battles." The dog barked twice, obviously pleased with the commendation. "We will bury the dead, then go to the city. We will return in a week and tell you how we fare."

"Will he bite me?" the boy asked.

"If you break your leg and he has to pull you to safety in his jaws, his teeth will still not break your skin," Vashti promised. "He has the soul of a halla, this dog." That earned her a puzzled whine, but she disregarded it.

"Aneth ara, Dog," Tamlen said, as the mabari slowly came closer to him and, sitting, leaned against his leg. The boy tentatively stroked the great wide-muzzled head, and the dog grinned, panting theatrically.

...oo00O00oo...

They put Tamlen to work finding branches of oak and cedar to lay on the graves, and then sails and blankets from the aravels to wrap the dead. He wished to help, to honor his clan, but they all silently agreed he need take no part in shifting the bodies.

Finn, uncharacteristically silent and somber, opened rents in the ground with magic, and helped Tamlen lay out the shrouds. With Ariane, Vashti found the members of her clan, bidding each an unheard farewell. They collected the family amulets to return to Ostagar, since - save for Tamlen and Vashti - there was no family to take them.

They learned he was Maren and Junar's son, and so they were careful not to let him see their bloated bodies. And aside from the very moment she recognized her, Vashti could not look on Ashalle; Ariane mercifully wrapped her foster mother alone while she went away to be sick.

Even when all the Sabrae in camp were in the ground, and the prayers to Falon'Din were said, they were not done. After resting the night, they left Tamlen with the dog and set off up the mountain, in search of the party of hunters who had first gone to find Marethari.

The trail led far up Sundermount, to a glade just outside a cavern. Stout-hearted Fenarel was there, he who had demanded that she take him along to search for Tamlen. It was all the clan found now, save the Keeper and First.

Marethari was in the cavern, her body prone before a hideous statue of some forgotten god. Finn arrowed to the statue immediately as they lifted the dead Keeper onto a shroud. "From the dawn of the Tevinter Empire, I'd say. This is ancient. And look... felandaris, right over there. That means the Veil is thin here. I suppose it's rather thin all around here but... it feels... It reminds me of Eleni Zinovia but not quite."

"Is this really the time, Finn?" Ariane asked irritably.

"It is if this is where that bound demon was held." Finn glanced around the cavern. "Because... I don't think it's here anymore."

"Creators!" Almost dizzy, Vashti put out a hand to steady herself against the wall. The clan had remained here to guard the place against Merrill. Merrill returned, Marethari tried to stop her and... "Must be it. Demon turned her against the clan."

"An abomination," Finn said quietly.