Act One

Chapter Twenty-four

To Trap a Wolf

The next few days passed much without incident. The job Varric had told Paden about ended up being a bust, as the woman's son had been missing just shy of two days, and returned home unscathed. When they went to question the boy's mother she told them he had snuck into Lowtown to visit a girl he was forbidden to associate with, and that he would be properly disciplined.

Leads on other jobs were not forthcoming, and Paden found herself with some free time in which to do whatever she pleased. So she hid her father's grimoire in a backpack, and hiked by herself to a secluded spot on the Wounded Coast where she could practice some new spells without the risk of watchful eyes.

The spot she chose was the hidden cove near the small cave where she and Anders had sheltered from the rain. It was far enough from the main road that it was unlikely anyone would stumble across it, and a thick coverage of trees growing around the edge of the cove made it very difficult to notice from a distance.

Paden paused at the mouth of the cave as she passed by. The rock tower she had made was still standing, though the flower had long since shriveled away. Paden smiled at the fond memories that resurfaced. This would always be a special place to her now.

She bent and quickly gathered up a few small rocks, and assembled a much smaller tower beside the first one, just to acknowledge that she had returned to that spot. It just felt like something she should do.

Then she continued on down to the cove, carefully descending the steep embankment, until she stood in the sand with the gently rolling waves before her. She set her father's grimoire on a boulder that was about table hight, and turned to a page she had marked the night before.

Malcolm Hawke had dabbled in every school of magic—except blood magic—and had kept extensive notes. Paden remembered him being especially skilled in the Elemental and Primal schools, and that is what he taught her from. But those did not give subtle examples of the use of magic, so now Paden turned to her father's notes to explore the less commonly learned Entropy school. Nearly every spell in this school was invisible, though none were lethal in and of themselves. But the damage they could do to enemies was still very great, since each one affected the enemy's mind, interrupting or completely disrupting their effectiveness in battle.

They were difficult to learn and not many mages ever bothered, mainly because one had to have a "victim" to practice on in order to see results. It was not as simple as conjuring a ball of fire or hurling a lightning bolt, and the chances of finding a willing "victim" were slim at best.

But Paden could practice the theory of the spells, and that is what she did, for the better part of the day. Concentrating, drawing power from the Fade, feeling the mana flow through her veins like a deep breath of fresh air, feeling the power tingle in her fingertips. She had heard of mages who practiced these spells on animals, but Paden could never bring herself to do that. She would practice on the very enemies the spells were intended for.

On her way back to Kirkwall in the late afternoon, Paden made a mental note to ask Anders about which schools of magic he specialized in—other than healing of course. She had seen him use elemental spells like fire and ice, but he also seemed to know quite a few others that she hadn't been able to identify. He had expressed an interest in teaching her some spells before, and she wanted to take him up on that offer.

When she arrived back home she was happy to see that Gamlen was gone for the evening, probably off getting drunk somewhere. Paden sat down in a chair by the fire and pulled off her boots. Her feet ached, as she had been standing or walking nearly all day.

Carver approached her, flapping an envelope with a broken seal at her. "What's this?" he demanded, a frown creasing his brow.

Paden arched an eyebrow at him as she set her boots aside. "Am I supposed to have any idea?"

"It's from Athenril," Carver explained. "I thought we were finished with her. Why is she still writing us?"

Paden gestured to the envelope. "You've obviously read it, why don't you tell me?"

"She passing us a job," Carver said. "But like I said, I thought we were through with her."

"We are," Paden assured. She stood up and went to the water picture that sat on the table and poured herself a glass. "We're through working for nothing. But if she's offering pay then who am I to refuse?"

"Did you sign her books?" Carver asked, his glare beginning to smolder.

Paden took a few gulps of her water before answering. "Yes, I did," she said simply, and wiped her mouth. Before Carver could protest she snatched the letter from his hand and read it quickly.

Hawke,

You might be interested in something that's come up. A contact of mine, a fellow by the name of Anso, is asking around for someone competent regarding a job, and I suggested you. He's always paid well, so if I were you, I'd check into it before someone else snaps it up. He said he'll be in the Lowtown Bazaar at night.

Athenril

Paden snorted and looked up at her brother. "This isn't even a job from her," she said. "She's just giving information about a possible job from someone else."

"But you still signed her books," Carver said.

"And it's a good thing, too, or she wouldn't have given us this lead. Come on, let's go check it out."

"That's it? No explanation? No excuses?"

Paden sighed as she sat back down in the chair and slipped her boots back on. "I'm not going to argue with you, Carver. I'm tired of you dissecting every single decision I make."

"Well if you didn't make so many bad ones I wouldn't have to," Carver argued.

Paden glared at him. "You're vote of confidence is overwhelming, Carver." She stood up. "Fine, I'll go talk to this Anso person and get paid. You can stay here." She left the house and headed at a brisk pace toward the market. The sun had finally set behind the hills, but the sky in the west was still tinged with yellow, the last remnants of the day sliding below the horizon.

Paden heard the door to Gamlen's apartment slam shut, and a moment later footsteps running up behind her. Carver fell into step beside her without a word, and they continued on to the market in silence.

They were just about to descend the steps into the Lowtown Bazaar when someone called after them.

"Hey, Hawke!"

They stopped walking and turned to see Varric and Anders coming out of the Hanged Man.

"What are you two doing?" Paden asked, retracing her steps to meet them halfway.

Varric chuckled. "Some blighted idiot puked all over the table right next to ours."

Anders put the back of his hand to his mouth and glanced away.

Paden smiled when she noticed. "You're looking a little green there, Anders," she commented.

"It was the smell," he said. "Had to get out."

"It was pretty bad," Varric agreed. "Where are you two off to in such a hurry?"

"Seeing about a job. You're welcome to come along if you wish."

"I'm not going back in there tonight," Anders said, jabbing his thumb back at the door to the tavern.

The four of them entered the Lowtown Bazaar together, and then paused in the street to look around for the contact.

The market was empty; all the booths closed up for the night, the people gone home. Then Paden noticed a dwarf standing with his back to them just down the street.

"I wonder if that's him," she mused aloud. Since he was the only person in sight, she approached him. "Are you Anso?" she asked.

The dwarf just about jumped out of his skin, flailing his arms out with a cry as he spun to face her, eyes wide with fright. "Sweet mother of partha! You can't just run up on someone like that!"

Paden arched a quizzical eyebrow at him. "Did you think I was going to attack you?" she asked.

He shook his head and waved his hands in front of him. "Oh, no, no…or…I hope not…anyhow." He frowned slightly. "Are you the human Athenril told me about?"

"I used to work for Athenril, if that's what you mean," Paden said.

"Yes! Yes it is. I mean…that is…"

Paden smiled slightly. "Why so jumpy?"

The dwarf let out a small, tense sigh. "My apologies, human. I haven't been on the surface very long. I keep thinking I'll fall up into that sky any minute!"

Varric chuckled. "Bartrand used to be like that. Got jumpy every time he stepped outside."

"I'd pay to see that," Carver said with an amused grin.

"But I digress," Anso said, his eyes still just as wide and bulging as they ever were. Paden started to wonder if they weren't that way permanently. "I need some help…rather badly, in fact. Some product of mine has been…misplaced. The men who were supposed to deliver it decided not to."

"And you want us to go get it for you," Paden finished. "Just what did these men steal?"

Anso chuckled nervously. "Did I say steal? I don't know if I would go that far. They seemed like perfectly reasonable smugglers. They smiled and everything!" He glanced around and shifted his feet slightly. "The goods are valuable, however…and illegal. And my client wants them very, very badly. You know how those Templars can be." He chuckled again.

Paden folded her arms across her chest with a frown. "You're smuggling lyrium to the Templars?"

"Of course he is," Carver exclaimed. "That's just bloody great."

"Maker's breath!" Varric said. "Between the chantry, the Carta and the Coterie…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

"Shh!" Anso cautioned, waving his hands frantically for silence. "By the Paragons, not so loudly!" He glanced around, checking that no one overheard them. Then he wiped his hand across his brow and muttered, "My word! I'm not cut out for this. I should have taken that job sweeping stables like Mother insisted."

Paden sighed and glanced at Carver. If they took this job it wouldn't be the first time they had smuggled lyrium; Athenril had made them do it on several occasions. But they didn't work for her anymore. They could decide for themselves what sorts of jobs they would or would not do. Though, it wasn't like there were a lot of options.

Carver caught her glance and shrugged. "It's not like anything I say will matter; you'll still do what you want."

Paden rolled her eyes and shook her head in exasperation, then turned back to Anso. "If you make it worth my time I'll help you," she said. If she was going to resort to illegal smuggling yet again, then she had better be well paid for it.

"Oh, I will!" Anso assured quickly, then paused. "Or…I'll try to."

"Practically a guarantee," Carver said sarcastically.

"Will you pay us or not?" Paden asked.

"I will, I will," Anso said.

"I'm not doing this for free, dwarf," Paden warned.

He chuckled nervously and gestured down the street with his thumb. "The gentlemen conduct their business at night, in a little hovel within the Alienage. Here's the address." He handed Paden a small slip of paper. "If you have to kill them, then I guess it can't be avoided. But I'm sure they'll be reasonable."

"Oh, you're sure, are you?" Carver said. "Why don't you just go get it yourself then?"

The dwarf sputtered, and Paden held up her hand. "Let's just go and get this over with." She pointed her finger at Anso. "You just stay right here. This won't take long, and I'll be back for my coin."

"Oh, yes, yes of course," Anso assured.

Paden set out at a brisk pace toward the Alienage, which wasn't very far to go. It was just down the street from Gamlen's house, in the oposite direction from the market. She had been there a couple times in the past for Athenril.

"Why do we always end up with the jobs nobody else wants?" Carver complained as they walked.

"Look on the bright side," Anders said cheerily. "At least we don't have to hike up Sundermount or slog through sewers or take a ferry to the Gallows this time."

"Blondie's got a good point," Varric said.

When they entered the Alienage they stopped and took a careful look around. There was not a soul in sight, and a soft prickle began to travel up Paden's back. She glanced at the address on the scrap of paper and compared it with the numbers on the doors.

"It's that one," she said softly, and headed for it.

"It's a little quiet here tonight," Varric commented in a near whisper. "Too quiet."

Paden knocked on the door and waited, but there was no sound from inside. She knocked again, and when no answer came, she tried the door latch. It was unlocked, so she opened it cautiously and peered inside.

The room beyond was empty but for a few sticks of furniture. She pushed the door open all the way and entered the building.

"Hm, nobody home," Carver grunted. "That's no surprise."

There was another door on the far side of the room and Paden approached it carefully and placed her ear close to it. She thought she heard a shuffling noise on the other side. She motioned the others over and then unhooked her staff from her back and held it at the ready. The others likewise brandished their weapons, just as a precaution. Paden did not like the feeling she was getting from this place. Something was definitely not right here.

Paden knocked lightly on the door. "Hello?" she called. "Anyone in there? We're here on business."

There was no answer, so Paden turned the latch and pushed the door open.

Six armored men stood on the other side, blades drawn. Paden instinctively took a couple steps back, conjuring a fireball in her hand at the same time. She paused long enough to make sure the men were actually attacking before throwing the fireball; she didn't want to harm them if they were simply being cautious themselves. But no, they rushed forward without any hesitation, and seconds later the entire room was consumed in a fiery blast. Most of the men were knocked off their feet and screams filled the air.

The fire dissipated quickly, not hot enough or constant enough to catch the room on fire, leaving behind a swirling gray smoke. Paden cleared the doorway, making room for Carver and his sword. That, along with a couple well-aimed arrows from Bianca, ended the fight almost before it had a chance to begin.

They stood there for a moment in silence, looking at the six bodies that littered the room.

Paden frowned. "That was almost too easy."

"They were waiting for us," Anders said. "Someone must have tipped them off."

"I knew something didn't feel right," Paden said. "I'd like to know what all this is about." She glanced around, noticing that the only thing in the room was a large chest in the corner. She pointed to it. "Anso's goods are probably in that chest."

"Just watch for traps," Varric cautioned. "It wouldn't surprise me if that thing was rigged."

Paden set her staff on the floor as she knelt and carefully inspected the latch and the lid of the chest. "It's not locked, and I don't see anything unusual about it." She flipped the latch up and carefully lifted the lid.

Nothing happened.

"Is it the goods?" Carver asked.

"It's empty," Paden said in surprise as she stared at the empty bottom of the chest.

"Waste of bloody time," Carver growled. "Who put us up to this?"

Paden frowned as she tried to figure out what was going on. "Well, I guess those smugglers would rather have the goods than Anso's payment."

"Sure," Varric said. "The sale of the lyrium would probably bring them more than twice whatever Anso was paying them."

"Check the bodies," Paden said. "Make sure none of them have it on them anywhere."

A quick search revealed several nice items that Paden could sell later, but not even a pinch of lyrium.

Paden sighed. "I guess all we can do now is go back to Anso and tell him."

"Another job we won't get paid for," Carver said. "Good one, Sister."

Paden shot a glare at her brother. "How is this my fault?"

"You accepted this bloody job."

Paden laughed incredulously. "I dare you to do better, Carver! You haven't secured us a single job, paying or not, in two weeks!"

Carver gestured broadly. "That's because I've been too busy running down every rabbit hole in Kirkwall with you!"

Tears stung the backs of Paden's eyes and she clenched her jaw tightly in anger and hurt.

"Hey now," Varric said. "I don't know if this is the time or place for this."

"Shut up, Dwarf!" Carver exclaimed, jabbing his finger at Varric.

An awkward silence fell heavily on the group for a moment, and then Paden spun away from her brother, leaving the house as quickly as she could before she said or did something she would truly regret.

Once on the street, she pulled up sharply. No less than ten armed and armored men stood as a blockade before her.

"Oh…not good," Varric muttered as he and the others came up behind Paden.

"That's not the elf," a woman in the group, possibly the leader, said. "Who is that?"

"It doesn't matter," the man next to her said as he drew his sword. "We were told to kill whoever enters the house."

"Not good at all," Paden agreed, letting a spark of electricity dance between her fingertips.

As the thugs made their advance, Paden sent the electricity into the nearest one, and it arced across to three others, stunning all of them. Then she let Carver deal with those while she turned her attention to an archer she noticed on the other side of the square. A quick freezing spell turned him into a human ice sickle.

By that time Varric and Bianca had taken down at least three more. But then reinforcements arrived. Four swordsmen and a mage. The enemy mage threw a ball of fire in their direction and Paden quickly ducked behind the huge sacred tree that grew from the center of the square. Carver was already behind it, and Varric was out of range of where the fireball would hit. Anders threw up a spell shield to protect himself.

Once the flames had dissipated, Paden went to Anders' side and he dropped his shield. Then together they threw simultaneous attacks at the mage, who threw up his own shield just in time.

"I need to get closer!" Anders called. "Cover me."

Paden frowned, not understanding his plan, but she did as he asked, using her staff to shoot smaller fireballs at the enemy mage, forcing him to keep his guard up and unable to attack as Anders halved the distance between them. Then he used a spell on the enemy mage that looked a lot like the Holy Smite that the Templars used against mages, and it seemed to have the same effect. Immediately the mage's shield collapsed. The fire from Paden's staff got through and the mage's robes burst into flame. Anders sent a bolt of electricity into the man, putting him out of his misery.

While the mages had been engaged in their own fight, Carver, Varric and Bianca had taken care of the rest.

"Blast!" Carver exclaimed, his voice tinged with a note of rage. "Blast and damnation!"

Paden frowned as she jogged to the other side of the square where her brother was examining a deep cut in his bicep.

"Carver! Are you all right?" she said, moving close to see how bad it was. Blood ran down his arm, dripping off his fingertips. The wound itself was gaping, cutting across the entire width of his arm. "Maker's breath," Paden exclaimed softly. "Anders! Get over here, Carver needs help!"

"I'm fine!" Carver said, turning his body away from his sister.

"You're not fine, you're bleeding out."

"It's just the muscle," Carver argued.

Anders joined them and reached his hands out to examine Carver's wound.

Carver pulled away. "Stay away from me, Mage!"

Anders held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, but he didn't back away. "Carver, I need to close that wound," he said softly.

"You're angry at me, Carver," Paden said. "Don't take it out on Anders. Let him help you."

Carver glared at his sister, but he did as she asked, and stood still while Anders took a look. The healer placed one hand lightly over Carver's wound without actually touching it, then closed his eyes to concentrate. A bluish glow radiated from his hand, but no change came to the wound before he broke his concentration and pulled his hand away.

"What's the matter?" Paden demanded.

"There's poison in the wound," Anders said. "Only a small amount, but if I close the wound with it in there it will just fester; we need to clean it first."

Carver scoffed. "Can't you just magic it away?"

"I wish I could, but no," Anders said regretfully. "Healing magic doesn't work like that. All it can really do is give or take life. The poison has no life to take."

"Then let's hurry and get him someplace where we can help him," Paden said.

"My clinic," Anders said. "I have antidotes for various poisons there. But for now I need to stop this bleeding." He opened the pouch on his belt and pulled out a roll of bandaging.

Just then they heard footsteps, and looked up to see a man with the same armor the others had descending the steps into the Alienage. Paden instinctively put herself between the man and her brother.

"I don't know who you are, friend," he said. "But you made a serious mistake coming here."

Paden was about to try and reason with him, since apparently this had all been some sort of giant misunderstanding. But the man raised his voice, cutting off her chance.

"Lieutenant! I want everyone in the clearing, now!"

So there were even more of them? Depending on how many more this might go very badly for them with Carver out of commission. Paden drew her staff and stood ready for another attack.

Footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs just out of sight, but they were only one set, and they made a dragging, stumbling sort of sound. Finally a man in full armor stumbled into view, one hand against a building for balance. He was splattered with blood, and blood gushed out from under his breastplate, though there was no damage to the armor itself.

"Captain…" he gasped, and then crumpled to the ground.

Before anyone could react, an elf in dark armor came around the corner, stepping over the soldier's body.

"Your men are dead, and your trap has failed," he said to the captain. "I suggest running back to your master while you can." He walked past the captain and paused in front of Paden, regarding her curiously.

Paden stared right back at him, intrigued by his strange appearance. A mop of unruly white hair covered his head, partially obscuring his large green eyes. White lines, like veins marked the skin of his chin, throat and arms. Tattoos? Not any like Paden had ever seen.

The captain put a heavy hand on the elf's shoulder. "You're going nowhere, slave!"

The elf immediately threw up his arm, knocking the captain's hand away, and at the same time the white markings on his skin ignited with a pale blue light. He must have had other markings elsewhere on his body because the light escaped through different parts of his armor as well.

He raised a gauntleted fist into the air and then slammed it into the captain's chest. It penetrated the captain's armor and his body, punching clean through and protruding between the man's shoulder blades. The man gasped and gurgled, eyes bulging in shock and pain, and then he fell to the ground, dead.

"I am not a slave," the elf said. He turned to face Paden and the others, the light in his markings slowly fading.

Paden took a couple steps back from him, unsure what to make of the elf. She exchanged wary glances with Anders and Varric. This whole situation was getting more and more confusing with each passing moment.

"I apologize," the elf said, apparently realizing what they must be thinking. He walked all the way into the square and looked at the bodies that littered the ground. "When I asked Anso to provide a distraction for the hunters I had no idea they'd be so…numerous."

Paden's eyes narrowed as she regarded the elf. "You were responsible for this?" she said.

"I am the reason you're here, yes," the elf said, and turned to face her again. "My name is Fenris. These men were Imperial bounty hunters seeking to recover a magister's lost property, namely myself. They were trying to lure me into the open. As crude as their methods were, I could not face them alone." He gestured to Paden. "Thankfully, Anso chose wisely."

"Wait a minute," Paden said, trying to put the pieces together. "There was no stollen lyrium then? Everything Anso said was a lie?"

"Not everything," Fenris assured. "Your employer was simply not who you believed."

"So there really was no job. You know, I don't appreciate being lied to," Paden said. She glanced at Carver to see how he was doing. He was starting to look a little pale. "Especially if we're putting our lives on the line. I like to know what I might die for."

"Perhaps the deception was unnecessary," the elf allowed. "If so, I am sorry. I have become too accustom to hiding."

Paden gestured at the bodies lying around them. "This seems like an awful lot of effort just to find one slave."

"It is," Fenris said, not elaborating.

Paden arched an eyebrow at him. "But I take it you're no ordinary slave. Does this have something to do with those markings?" She pointed to his tattoos.

Fenris lifted his arms and looked at the white vein patterns that traced across his biceps. "Yes," he said. "I imagine I must look strange to you. I did not receive these markings by choice. Even so, they have served me well. Without them I would still be a slave."

"Yes…I can imagine," Paden said hesitantly. So it was the markings that allowed him to punch his fist through a man's chest like that? It was very bizarre, but Paden had seen a lot of bizarre things over the last couple weeks. Not a lot could surprise her now.

Paden heard Carver grunt, and she looked over her shoulder to see Anders wrapping a bandage tightly around her brother's arm.

Fenris lifted a hand and took a step toward Paden, bringing her attention back to him. "If I may ask…what was in the chest? The one they kept in the house?"

"It was empty," Paden said.

A look of disappointment crossed the elf's handsome features. "I suppose it was too much to hope for," he said softly. "Even so…I had to know."

"You were expecting something else?" Paden asked.

"I was," Fenris said with a soft sigh. "But I shouldn't have. It was bait, nothing more." He crouched beside the body of the dead captain and began searching through the man's belt pouches.

"You know, you didn't have to lie to get my help," Paden commented as she watched him.

"That remains to be seen," he muttered. Paden frowned at that, but before she could say anything he stood up. "It's as I thought," he said. "My former master accompanied them to the city." He turned to face her. "I know you have questions, but I must confront him before he leaves. I will need your help."

Paden's frown deepened. "Really? After all this," she gestured around them, "Luring me into a trap, lying to me, and now you want my help?"

"If Anso had asked you to divert an ambush of Tevinter bounty hunters, would you have done it?"

Paden smiled grimly. "You'd be surprised what I might do for coin these days. But you're right, coming from him it would seem too strange. Coming from you, though…"

"Had I known of you earlier I might have asked you personally," Fenris admitted. "I had only Anso to rely on, I fear. I am not lying to you now. Please, help me do this."

Paden regarded the elf for a moment, trying to figure out his many contradictions. He was a former slave, but his manner of speech made him seem educated or well brought up. The great-sword strapped to his back implied that he was a strong warrior, and he was obviously deadly, yet he seemed kind, and was one of the politest people Paden had ever met.

"So, you need my help to confront your old master," Paden said. "Sounds like you intend to do more than just talk."

The elf's brows furrowed slightly. "Danarius wants to strip the flesh from my bones, and has sent so many hunters that I have lost count. And before that, he kept me on a leash like a Qunari mage, a personal pet to mock Qunari custom." His eyes narrowed and his voice became deeper, almost like a growl. "So, yes, I intend to do more than just talk."

Paden stared into the elf's eyes for a moment and then she sighed. "We took the job with Anso because we really needed the coin. That fact hasn't changed."

"My funds are limited," Fenris admitted. "But I will find a way to repay you if you help me, I swear it."

Empty promises, Paden thought. But no…somehow she knew this elf was good on his word. She didn't know how she knew that, she just felt it in her gut. This one had honor and he would stand by what he said. Besides, he was a former slave running from those who had oppressed him. Didn't he deserve his freedom?

She finally nodded. "All right, I'll help you."

The corner of Fenris's mouth turned up into the barest hint of a smile. "The magister is staying in a mansion in Hightown. We must enter before morning." He gave Paden the address.

Paden gestured to Carver. "My brother is injured and needs care first," she said.

Fenris glanced at Carver and then back to Paden. "Just meet me there as soon as you can." With that he left the Alienage.

Paden let out a tense breath and turned back to her companions. Anders was just putting the finishing touches on the bandage. "How are you doing?" she asked her brother.

"I'll live," Carver said flatly, his mouth a thin line. He refused to make eye contact with her.

Paden looked at Anders for verification.

"Let's get him to my clinic," the healer said. "He'll be fine then."

"Right, let's go."

All the way through Darktown they were silent. Carver walked behind Paden the whole time, his head bowed. He was really mad at her this time. Or perhaps this had been the final straw atop a mountain of perceived wrongs. Paden could do no good in the eyes of her brother. Every decision was the wrong one, every bad thing that happened was her fault.

That hurt. Knowing that he felt that way about her hurt like the Void itself. But what could she do? She was already doing her best, doing what she could. As long as he continued refusing to step up, make decisions, do something on his own, then he would just have to be all right with her feeble attempts. That's all there was to it.

They arrived at the clinic and Carver sat down on a cot while Anders went to his apothecary for the supplies he needed.

"Is he going to be all right?" Paden asked again.

"Sister, quit mothering me," Carver growled.

Anders returned with a tray containing a bowl of water, a small bottle of dark green liquid and a stack of rags. He gave Paden a reassuring smile as he set the try on the cot beside Carver. "He's going to be just fine."

"Maybe he should stay here until we return from Hightown," Paden suggested. "There could be more fighting."

"I told you to stop mothering me," Carver said. "I'm not staying anywhere. We're finishing this job and we're getting paid, and I'm helping." His voice softened just a bit. "Besides, who's going to watch your back if there's a fight?"

Paden's chin trembled and she glanced away, feeling grateful that no matter what she did or said, no matter her shortcomings or her failings, and no matter how angry she made him, he was still there for her; he still had her back.

Anders used water and rags to rinse out Carver's wound, then he doused it with the dark green liquid and let it sit for a few minutes. Then he rinsed it again. Finally, he placed both hands over the wound, closed his eyes to concentrate, and the blue glow came from his hands, the healing magic knitting Carver's flesh back together.

It took a lot longer than Paden thought it would; close to fifteen minutes before Anders finally dropped his hands. His body sagged from exhaustion and he braced his hands on the edge of the cot to keep from falling to the floor. Paden rested her hands on his shoulders to steady him.

"Are you going to be all right?" she asked with a concerned frown.

He nodded and held up one hand to assure her that he was fine, but he didn't speak, and kept his eyes closed.

Paden turned to her brother, and was amazed to see only a deep scar where the wound had been only minutes before. That had been the most extensive healing she had witnessed for herself and she was greatly intrigued.

Carver touched the scar experimentally and then smiled slightly. "It doesn't even hurt anymore," he said. He lifted his arm, moving it back and forth. "Skin's a little tight, but I think I'll do all right."

"I'll finish it up later," Anders assured. "I can repair the scar, I just can't do it all in one session."

"So then we should get to Hightown," Varric suggested. "That elf is waiting for us."

"Will you be all right, Anders?" Paden asked. "You don't have to come."

Anders gave her a smile as he stood up. "I'm fine, I just had to catch my breath. Let's go."

Paden led the way from the clinic, but she glanced back and saw that as Anders was passing by his apothecary table, he paused and withdrew from his potions chest a small vial of lyrium potion. He popped the cork off and tipped it back, swallowing the pale blue liquid in one gulp, grimacing as it went down. He left the bottle on the table and hurried to catch up with them. Paden quickly glanced away, pretending she hadn't noticed.

He was more exhausted than he let on. Worry lines creased Paden's brow as the group made their way to the surface. Should he be that exhausted after performing such a simple healing? Paden didn't think so. There were other factors working against him, there must be. How long had he been taking lyrium like that? She would have to find out.