A/N: I had a lot of trouble uploading this one for some reason. FFnet decided that it didn't like .docx apparently and I had to save it as a .doc before I could get it to load. Whatevs. Still got it done. We're in a tornado watch here, which is rare and kind of exciting for our area!

Ellana has an encounter in a dream this chapter that will seem just like an interesting diversion but is actually setting the stage for a big event later...

Twenty-one

Jailbreak

Wearing in his wolf headdress, Solas watched as the first of his army of three hundred elven mages entered the eluvian and tried not to think about Ellana and what she'd done. He could not afford to let the events of the morning undo the previous two weeks of effort. The fight ahead would be challenging enough as it was.

Over the next few hours he would lead this army deep into the Crossroads to an eluvian that would only open for him, having been sealed with his blood millennia ago—one of the handful of times he'd been forced to use blood magic. Through that eluvian lay the Forgotten Ones' prison construct. During the time of Elvhenan Solas knew his army would have been little more than an inconvenience for just one of the Forgotten Ones, but millennia locked away from the Fade had to have weakened the ancient beings.

Like all spirits and demons, the Forgotten Ones embodied intangible things of the waking world—emotions, ideas, thoughts, and desires. Unlike most spirits and demons, the Forgotten Ones did not represent such innocent things as fear, compassion, wisdom, or desire. Instead the Forgotten Ones fed off even darker aspects of the world: destruction and death. But even they, in their maligned way, had some capacity for good. After all, death can only exist when there is life.

In Elvhenan the Forgotten Ones had tempered their destruction with bouts of peace to ensure they never ran out of future victims. They were like shepherds or gardeners, pruning the weeds or culling the sick from a herd. Their primary motivation had always been one of establishing balance between the physical and the intangible. In the world of Solas' time, when the People were immortal, death and disease came primarily from the Forgotten Ones. And though their ways were horrible and frightening, they were not without purpose, which was one of the many reasons Solas had not killed them.

But, as with many other things he hadn't foreseen, Solas had altered that balance and changed the Forgotten Ones by locking them away. By severing them from the Fade and the waking world, he feared their already dark natures had grown twisted into true demons. Denied their purpose for so long, the Forgotten Ones had to be weakened, but they now wielded their destructive powers with reckless abandon. They were no longer shepherds or gardeners tending the physical world. Instead they'd become embittered, spiteful and gleeful in their wanton destruction. If unleashed they would turn their wrath upon every living thing in Thedas.

Actually, Solas suspected they hadn't even needed to be free to wreak havoc.

It had been their voices, reaching out through the powers of blood magic to bypass the Fade and sing straight into the ignorant ears of Tevinter's mages, urging the destruction of Arlathan. They wove lies, alternate identities, claiming to be the massive dragons slumbering in the abyss: the Old Gods. They'd encouraged the humans to breach the Golden City, knowing the magisters would walk into a trap and return to Thedas carrying the Blight.

The Blight had begun as the Forgotten Ones' greatest tool, after all. And it was the Blight Solas feared most when attacking them now.

Looking over the forces he'd assembled, Solas kept his arms clasped behind his back and his shoulders squared. They'd formed into three groups of one hundred, each led by one of his Elvhen lieutenants—Zevanni, Abelas, and Mathrel. Beneath them each group of one hundred had sub-commanders: Zevanni's second was Darae, Mathrel's was Zaron, and Abelas' was Var, the Elvhen spy Solas had recalled from the Inquisition's ranks.

Solas had gone to great care to ensure the sentinels were intermixed with his own more trustworthy warriors. He knew the sentinels saw his machinations and the lack of trust it revealed, but there was little he could do. A reckoning would be coming between his people and the sentinels who served Mythal. He had no doubt of that, he just hoped it wouldn't be in the heat of battle.

His three lieutenants stood below him now, their faces tense and serene, even Zevanni's. Unlike the modern elves they commanded, these Elvhen warriors remembered the enormous and terrifying powers of the Forgotten Ones first hand. They'd spent the last two weeks preparing for the assault by creating enchanted talismans from any trinkets the elves had brought with them. The modern elves did not realize they were warding themselves against Blight with an ancient spell long forgotten from the world. It was better if they didn't know the full danger of their enemies, but Solas had personally walked through their ranks that morning to check every individual to ensure they'd cast the magic correctly. He couldn't afford to let even a single mage infected with the Blight slip through the ranks.

Abelas entered after the first troop and Zevanni followed the second. Only a hundred remained. The modern elves had a variety of backgrounds; from Dalish Firsts and Seconds to city elves who'd escaped Circles or apostates who'd never been part of a Circle. Aside form the magic in their veins, the only things they had in common were their lithe figures and elven heritage. Many of them stared at him with awe or murmured entreaties as they passed.

Solas ignored them and fought off the wave of revulsion that made his stomach clench. No matter how many times he tried to convince them otherwise they still believed him a god. He could have foregone the wolf headdress to let them see how unassuming he appeared as just Solas, but the sad, infuriating truth was that he needed to inspire that awe and devotion now more than ever.

Once the Veil came down he could prove to them their devotion hadn't been misplaced. He would never claim godhood, but he knew his power, fully restored, would crush their enemies so thoroughly he might as well be a god.

When the last group of one hundred had passed through, leaving only their leader, Mathrel, waiting before the mirror, Solas leapt down from the wall. Landing lightly on his feet, he asked, "Are you ready, falon?"

The grim warrior nodded. "Fen'Harel enansal."

"Have you bidden Lyris goodbye?" he asked, hesitating a moment as he wrestled with the desire to ask how Ellana was. It twisted inside him, gnawing like an animal. He quashed it.

"I have." Mathrel's dark eyes narrowed with something akin to concern. "Ir abelas, but I must caution you, Fen'Harel. Expectant mothers are often emotionally unstable. You must not judge her too harshly for—"

Solas cut him off with a small wave of his hand. "I appreciate your concern and your wisdom in this matter," he said, admitting Mathrel did have more experience in dealing with a pregnant partner. "But now is not the time."

"You are correct." Mathrel dipped his chin in acknowledgment. "Apologies."

Gesturing to the mirror, Solas said, "Let us begin." Mathrel pivoted and strode through the mirror.

Alone, Solas let out a long, uneven breath and then, steeling himself, followed Mathrel through the eluvian.

Ellana found herself bathed in warmth, curled tightly in a lightless space. Walls enclosed her, soft and malleable, in every direction. She should have felt claustrophobic in such a tight space, but instead she was weightless and carefree. The strangeness of this environment struck her, but it seemed as though the ether of this existence soothed her from the outside in, as if with her every breath she drew in tranquility.

Except she realized she wasn't breathing, just opening her mouth. There was a taste on her tongue, tangy and salty and unfamiliar. And through the complete darkness of this tiny, enclosed world of weightlessness and warmth, she heard the comforting drumming beat echoing through it all. The sound was dull, as if muffled, passing through liquid.

I must be dreaming, she realized. But what kind of dream was this?

When she stretched her limbs against the flesh-like walls enclosing her they stretched and then gave way, light spilling into her eyes. Weight settled onto her shoulders again and she blinked, eyes adjusting to the dull, diffuse light.

She recognized the raw Fade—pools of stagnant water, gray-green stone and tawny sand with spindly red stalks growing along the edges, coated in a slime. Grimacing, Ellana turned in a circle, taking in the Fade around her and tensing with confusion. What's going on?

She saw a wispy shadow nearby and flinched from it, heart pounding as she expected it to attack. Her hands moved automatically over her shoulder, seeking a bow and an arrow to nock in it and finding nothing with a spurt of panic. The shadow flowed closer to her and she yelped, scrambling through the uneven, lumpy terrain of the Fade trying to evade it. But the shadow moved too quickly, lurching at her. She cringed, bracing for impact—but the spirit passed through her.

In the heartbeat that the spirit crossed through her, Ellana felt curiosity buzz in her mind, briefly replacing her fear. Then the wisp was behind her and she whirled to watch it, wary but perplexed. From what she'd gathered from Solas, most friendly or neutral spirits that were too weak or simple to speak chose to emulate something from a dreamer's memories to communicate. And usually they appeared as greenish specters or orbs of light. This spirit chose darkness rather than light, which had alarmed her immediately, yet it had done nothing overtly hostile and the sensation she'd gotten from it seemed harmless enough.

"Can you speak?" she asked it.

It floated toward her again, moving into her face. Ellana backed away from it, trying to bat it away. Her hands cut through it, tearing thin tendrils of its essence away as if she could scatter it like mist. It was warm to the touch as it passed through her again, leaving her with that same curiosity tingling her skin.

"Please," she said, whipping around and trying to evade the shadowy spirit as it immediately turned to make another pass through her. "Stop that." The spirit hovered a moment longer in front of her face when she spoke, as if observing her, then darted forward to pass through her again.

Ellana groaned, batting at the spirit though that proved just as useless as before. The shadowy, shapeless form continued to dash around her, like an oversized and annoying gnat. Trying to ignore it, she started walking, making her way through the mixture of sand and stagnant, oily puddles. The sound of the splashing as she walked drew the spirit's attention and, as if easily distracted, it began to circle her feet and brush against the sand and the pools.

Strange, she thought.

Rounding a corner of green-gray stone, Ellana and the shadow spirit reached a broad, open space, flat except for the many small depressions filled with water. Greenish ether rose from the ground in ribbons, swirling on invisible air currents. In the sky, craggy rock islands floated in the bleak orange-gray sky, making Ellana remember the Crossroads. Far in the distance and high in the heavens, Ellana saw the foreboding spires of the Black City, gloomy and inaccessible as always. Scattered over the plain ahead were pale white stones and Ellana recognized them as being elven ruins, likely from Hellathen Hamin. A statue of the Dread Wolf sat, partly submerged in the sand and muck; the stone looked slimy.

The shadow spirit zoomed away from her, circling the Dread Wolf statue before losing interest and flying back to her. Again it passed through her, filling her briefly with that same bubbling curiosity. This time she heard a sound as it made another pass, slower now: the steady muffled beating from the dark, weightless dream. Ellana watched it, eyes narrowed as she steeled herself for its next dive through her again.

Then movement drew her gaze to the plain again. Staring out into the open space, Ellana saw faint shapes in the pale green of spirits that had materialized into bipedal shapes. The slim, gracefulness of their lithe bodies even while armored told her they were elves. Dozens of them moved over the plain, voices murmuring just a tad too quiet for her to make out any of the words.

A memory of the past, Ellana thought. This was just the sort of thing Solas sought out in ruins.

The shadow spirit sped away into the plain, streaking fast to zip through the incorporeal figures of the memory. The spirits reenacting the scene seemed to glimmer at the shadow's touch, flickering a moment, but they didn't falter. After a few passes through one spirit, the shadow flew to another and repeated the process.

A small splash behind her made Ellana gasp, whipping around to look behind her. As she recognized Morrigan she relaxed. "Morrigan," she said with a nod in greeting. "I didn't expect to find you. This isn't our usual meeting place."

The witch cast her a strange, almost wary look as she moved to stand at Ellana's side and overlook the plain. "My apologies, Inquisitor. I did not dare reshape the Fade until I knew your companion posed no threat." She gestured out into the distance at the spirit figures still walking and murmuring amongst themselves with the shadow flitting between them like a bird seeking handouts.

"My companion?" Ellana asked, frowning. "The shadow spirit? It seems to be harmless. Annoying, but harmless."

Morrigan smirked. "Annoying but harmless?" She laughed. "`Tis an apt description, I suspect, but I doubt you would say such if you understood what it is."

Ellana shook her head. "And what is it, exactly?"

Morrigan's smirk widened into a full smile. "Mythal whispers to me that it is a Dreamer—but a child." At Ellana's shocked stare, mouth agape, Morrigan laughed again. "The presence I sensed with you when we met earlier, it was the child entering the Fade, not Fen'Harel or one of his servants."

"How can you be sure that this is…" Ellana stared out into the plain, one hand covering her mouth as she remembered trying to swat the shadow away. "I hit it—I thought it was trying to attack me…"

"I doubt it was bothered in the slightest," Morrigan said with a shrug. She was silent a moment, golden eyes glazing as she tilted her head, apparently listening to the goddess dwelling inside her. "Mythal assures me that only another Dreamer mage could harm its spirit here. Even demons cannot tempt a being as simple as an unborn child. It wants for nothing, understands nothing. I suspect it shaped the Fade unconsciously until you happened to dream with it and introduce it to a world outside the womb."

"Are we in the raw Fade because of my child?" Ellana asked, shaking her head in consternation. She felt dizzy with this bizarre new discovery.

"I…cannot say," Morrigan admitted, frowning. "But Dreamers access the raw Fade as others cannot, so it is possible. However, it could also be the magic of the Anchor." Grinning, Morrigan chuckled. "Is it truly so shocking to learn this, Inquisitor? Your child is the offspring of the last whole and free Evanuris after all. Mythal tells me that her own children manifested this way in ancient Elvhenan. She suspects your lover will be most pleased—though I doubt you will wish to share this knowledge with him after what I am about to reveal to you."

Ellana gnashed her teeth, the heat of fury making her skin flush red. She'd tried to sleep to escape reality, but Morrigan's reminder brought it all back to her, crashing onto her like an avalanche. "I am his prisoner," she growled, hands clenching into fists at her side. "I will not be able to escape. Solas has placed me under guard."

In the plain ahead of them the shadow had frozen amidst the elven figures, its shapeless form flowing like mists, growing tumultuous. It hovered and then rose into the air above the plain, buzzing around a floating stalagmite like a giant moth.

"I am aware," Morrigan said, sounding coy. "But he will not be able to stop you from leaving if that is your choice. I have commanded Arina to aid you should you wish it."

"How?" Ellana asked, frowning with confusion. "Arina must still be awake, guarding Dorian and the others. How can you be in communication with her?" How had Morrigan known that Solas had imprisoned her as well? Ellana stiffened, wariness sending a chill arcing through her.

The witch tilted her head slightly and grimaced as if in pain. "I…she can reach out from the Fade to any of the sentinels. Because of their vallaslin."

"They are slaves to her then," Ellana muttered. For all her fury with Solas at the moment she had to admit that he remained loyal to his own principles. The power of vallaslin to compel servants and warriors and whole armies had a dark appeal to Ellana as she considered how useful they'd have been in dealing with her own Inquisition. But of course she would never stoop to such a low—though it was easy to see the appeal.

"They are not slaves," Morrigan snapped, sounding offended. "Mythal did not use such bindings the way most of the Evanuris did. Her vallaslin allow a connection, that is all." She huffed. "`Tis unimportant, Inquisitor. What is important is that you must understand Fen'Harel had long since broken your trust. It is time you learned the truth."

With her heart whooshing in her ears, Ellana wrapped her arms around herself and sucked in a deep breath. "You don't have to pour poison in my ear to make me go to the Dales, Morrigan. I've already made my decision."

"I understand," Morrigan said, lips twisting downward. "But Mythal insists that you must know that Fen'Harel has been a bane to Thedas ever since he woke from his long sleep. She knows you will waver as his lover and mother of his child and she fears your affection will blind you, leading to disaster for us all."

Striding ahead, shaking her head as if she could dislodge Morrigan's voice, Ellana called out over her shoulder, "I don't want to hear it."

"Fen'Harel gave Corypheus his orb," Morrigan shouted at her. "Did you know that, Inquisitor? Did you know that the explosion at the conclave, the Divine's death, the Anchor that pains you—`twas all his doing."

Ellana froze, staring out at the plain and the memory still playing out with the shadow now watching from its elevated position, unmoving. Slowly, with a frown, she pivoted to face Morrigan. "Solas told me the orb was stolen and fell into Corypehus' hands."

The witch's smile was hard and cold as she shook her head. "No, Inquisitor. Your lover's spies passed the orb off to Corypheus. They tracked him, spied on him, and fed the information to Fen'Harel so that when Corypheus made his move and unlocked the orb, the Dread Wolf would be onsite to reclaim the Anchor and the orb altogether. He would have destroyed Thedas that very day by tearing down the Veil."

Shaking with rage even as the air seemed to have been squeezed out of her lungs by the pain and grief of betrayal, Ellana stammered, trying to deny it. "Why would he do such a thing? He despised Corypheus…"

"He woke near death from uthenera," Morrigan answered. "He planned to have Corypheus unlock the orb and die in the process, but he miscalculated on multiple fronts."

"How could you know this?" Ellana asked, her voice thick and breathy. Her stomach clenched and she swallowed, feeling as though she might vomit, though she wasn't sure she could do it in the Fade.

"He sought Mythal out for guidance in dreams," Morrigan answered. "She disapproved of his plans and refused to help him."

"He lied to me at Halamshiral," Ellana whispered, more to herself than to Morrigan. Her eyes shut tightly as she covered her face with both hands, her throat closing as she tried to fight off a sob. He broke his promise from the start…

She felt a tingle on her skin and heard the faint, muffled thumping of the shadow—her child, if she believed Morrigan and Mythal—and raised her head in time to see it darting back and forth nearby. When it passed through her again and swung around, circling, it had begun to flicker, the dark mists twining and coiling on each other. It hesitated well clear of her, as if observing her with caution now. Could it sense her distress?

"Will you serve Mythal, Inquisitor?" Morrigan asked, her quiet words clear and crisp despite the distance between them. "Fen'Harel may yet follow with you leading the sentinels. That is Mythal's hope, and why I have approached you."

Ellana shook, holding herself and fighting the miserable weakness of despair at the betrayal. Her eyes followed every little movement of the shadow as it wove back and forth. She felt the muffled thumping—a heartbeat—pulsing through the air. "You deserve a father who won't lie to you, little one," she whispered at it, her eyes burning though no tears formed.

"Inquisitor?" Morrigan pressed and then, softer now, "Ellana?"

Letting out a long, shuddering breath, Ellana looked to Morrigan and frowned. "I told you, I will go to the Dales. Help me escape Solas and I will do as Mythal advises." Pausing, she assessed the witch, her brow furrowing. "And in return Mythal can safely remove or stabilize the Anchor, correct? I won't be able to help anyone if it kills me."

"Indeed," Morrigan said with a meaningful nod. "I will meet you in the Dales, Inquisitor. Try not to leave me waiting."

For an hour after waking Ellana had waited in her bedroom—what had become her cell, actually—sitting in silence on the furs over the pallet she and Solas had slept on just that very night. A Dalish elf still bearing her vallaslin arrived with stew, thick and meaty, but Ellana could only manage a few bites before her throat seemed to close or the food rose back up her esophagus like liquid fire.

"You must eat," Lyris scolded her from just outside the cell. There were no bars, no doors, no obstructions except Lyris herself. Ellana knew the warrior wouldn't hurt her but would never allow her to pass and likely had a paralyzing spell or a sleeping draught to force her to behave.

"I'm not hungry," she said, voice thick with anger.

Lyris sighed, shoulders sagging. The sound carried the weight of the unhappiness Ellana could see darkening the warrior's face in the golden torchlight. "Fen'Harel is doing only what he must," she said gently. "Mathrel would do the same to me if I refused to stop fighting when—"

"I would've stayed," Ellana interrupted her, glaring viciously. "But he didn't ask. He didn't tell me. He's shut me out and lied to me." She broke off, choking on both the fire of indigestion in her throat and the intense ache of her emotion. Closing her eyes, she laid the hand not holding the bowl of stew over her abdomen and tried to steady her breathing. Envisioning the baby, remembering the raw curiosity she'd felt as the shadow of its consciousness passed through her in the Fade, helped calm her.

"He loves you," Lyris murmured, but the conviction in her voice was unmistakable. "I have never seen him so devoted to another, and he has had many lovers, Ellana. But he will always do what he must for the People. He carries a terrible weight on his shoulders." She paused a moment and then added, "I believe you are the only one who lessens that burden. Do not add to it with useless strife."

"But what he's doing will kill him," Ellana protested, the words emerging strangled from her throat. "There's a better way—but he won't listen."

"Mythal's way?" Lyris asked, growling. "You cannot trust her."

Ellana opened her mouth to reply but then the sound of footsteps clapping on the stone in the corridor drew both women's attention. The warrior glanced over her shoulder, scowling at whoever approached. Ellana's heart took off racing, her body breaking out in a sweat immediately, certain this must be Arina come to rescue her.

"Fen'Harel ordered no visitors," Lyris grumbled, pivoting to face them.

"He's with her clan," answered a voice Ellana recognized as Arina. "Says her Keeper sent him with a gift from Fen'Harel."

Leaving the stew on the pallet, Ellana rose to her feet and stepped toward the narrow doorway, trying to see around Lyris' armored form. In the shadowed, dim lighting of the corridor she saw two figures, one feminine that she recognized as Arina and another taller shape behind her that was also familiar. She squinted, trying to make out his features, but Lyris shifted, blocking her view.

"And Fen'Harel wished for you to bring the gift to his lover?" the warrior asked with a shake of her head. "Do not insult my intelligence."

And then, suddenly, there was a shout and a whump sound. Ellana cringed backward, her skin tingling with the nearness of magic. Suddenly the air was thick with sparkling dust. One whiff of its bitter taste revealed what it was—a rogue's knockout bomb. Ellana clapped a hand over her nose and scrambled to cover the lower half of her face with her scarf as she saw the shadowy shapes of two figures in the hall clashing, heard metal clang and magic sizzle. Then a shouted curse came from Lyris as the warrior coughed.

Another shape moved through the dust motes, distorting the golden torchlight as it entered the small room. Ellana reached out to grasp the person, guessing at once it'd be Arina, turned invisible. When her hands met with the invisible rogue Arina reappeared with another whump sound, grabbing Ellana's arm. "Come with me," she ordered, her voice muffled through her own mask.

They jogged from the cell and into the hallway, Ellana fighting off a wave of dizziness from the knockout bomb. She saw Lyris had fallen to her knees outside the cell, her shoulders heaving and her head drooped. The hilt of her spectral blade was still clasped in one fist, her blond hair disheveled from where it'd slipped from her tight bun. An elven man in full Dalish armor stood in front of her, an axe in his hand and his body tensed, ready to fight. Like Arina he wore a mask over his nose and mouth, but closer now Ellana recognized him at once.

"Lerand?" she asked, agape under her scarf.

The blond-haired warrior whipped around to her and started jogging with them. "Great to see you again, Lana!" She couldn't see his mouth but could hear the grin in his voice.

"We have little time," Arina scolded, tugging insistently on Ellana's arm. "We must get through the eluvian before Lyris comes after us."

"My friends," Ellana protested, tugging against the rogue's hold. "From Halamshiral. We have to—"

"Samhel and Mahanon are bringing them," Lerand answered, hurrying along just behind her. His hand moved to the small of her back, ushering her up the ruined stairs.

They emerged into the courtyard. Ellana's eyes smarted in the bright sunshine and she winced but didn't slow. The fields of tents and campfires where their army had been camped now appeared deserted. A cold hand gripped at her heart inside her chest. Solas has taken them, she realized and then pushed the thought aside, unable to dwell on it now.

They hurried through the courtyard and into the ruins proper. She shivered in the chillier air aboveground, breathing hard and fast and grimacing at how uncomfortable the sharp movements were on her rounded belly. She clutched at her abdomen as they jogged, winding their way toward the eluvian with Arina at the lead and Lerand at her side. When they reached it, hopping down into the collapsed corridor where the mirror thrummed with magic, glowing blue, Ellana heard Iron Bull shout, "Hey there, Boss!"

Panting and grinning, she found all four of her friends standing tensely around the mirror with Mahanon and Lerand's older brother Samhel nearby. Her eyes quickly took in the new, elven weapons they each carried and recognized them as being of Dalish design specifically. Apparently Lerand, Mahanon, and Samhel had done more than just rescue her friends, they'd armed them too.

"You made it," she said, laughing even as her eyes stung with tears of relief. She tried to suppress the emotion, irritated that she couldn't go any length of time without crying these days.

"This is some jailbreak you've managed, old girl," Dorian told her with a warm smile. "Good to have you back."

"We must go," Arina ordered, pushing at Lerand and then Samhel and Mahanon. "Through the mirror!"

"What about Abelas?" Ellana asked, looking around with a frown. "Morrigan said he was to come w—"

"He will join us soon," Arina said, pushing her again. "Go, now! Lyris will already be coming after us."

They sprang for the mirror, leaping through it one by one, making the eluvian hum with magic each time. Ellana burst through the mirror and out the other side, heart pounding and body shuddering. As the groaning song of the Crossroads filled her ears, so too did the crackle of the Anchor as it flared to life. Pain spurted through her hand and she cried out, stumbling to her knees as she cradled it.

"Lana," Lerand shouted, his hand on her shoulder, trying to haul her to her feet. "Are you all right?

Others quickly clamored around her, calling her name. Hands gripped her beneath her arms, lifting her. Gnashing her teeth, Ellana forced her shaking legs to bear her weight, though the Crossroads still spun around her. "I'm fine…" but panic fluttered in her chest, as strong as her baby's kicks. Why had the Anchor flared like that? It usually only reacted to Solas' magic or other ancient Elvhen magic. Had the eluvian's magic been enough to set it off now?

The sentinel rogue was at her side then. "Can you run?" Arina asked, her face pinched with something like horror.

"Not very well," Ellana retorted with a scowl, still cradling her left hand as the Anchor's glow began to gradually dissipate. "I'm pregnant, remember?"

"Let me carry her," Iron Bull said, stepping forward.

Arina's lips curled and her eyes narrowed. "I don't trust you," she said.

Ellana pushed the rogue away, growling with the press of frustration and pain. "I do." She lurched toward Iron Bull and he caught her, taking her into his arms as easily as he would a child. With a little grunt, he grinned down at her, and asked, "Comfy?"

"Grateful is more like it," Ellana admitted, wrapping an arm around his neck for support. She tucked the left one, still aching along the Anchor mark, against her rounded belly.

"One of you," Arina shouted, jerking a finger to Dorian and then Mahanon. "Can you deactivate it?"

Mahanon just stared at the rogue, baffled, but Dorian sniffed. "Yes, since you asked so nicely." He strode to the mirror and thrust out one palm, a bluish glow passing into the mirror from his hand. A second later the mirror went dark.

"This way," Arina yelled, rushing ahead with all the dexterous speed of any well-trained, knife-wielding rogue. They took a narrow rock bridge leading left, heading for the next nearest island. Everyone moved after her at once but the elf-friendly nature of the Crossroads sped Arina's pace and soon she and Sera had both outpaced everyone else, though Mahanon, Lerand, and Samhel chose to lag behind them, deliberately lingering near Iron Bull.

"How are you, Lana?" her brother asked from where he trotted along just ahead of Iron Bull.

"Never better," she bluffed, trying to reassure him. "Though I'm guessing this is all a little strange for you."

He laughed. "You could say that, yeah. We only just arrived around dawn." Shooting her a worried look, he asked, "Please tell me I haven't just killed myself by betraying the Dread Wolf."

"I…" She frowned, clinging tighter to Iron Bull, trying to muster up the strength to believe she could still trust that she knew anything about her lover with certainty. The constant jarring bounce of each step the massive warrior took sent her head spinning and her stomach clenching.

"Fenedhis," Mahanon cursed, facing forward again. "Mythal have mercy."

"Solas will have to get through me before he can get to you." Iron Bull's voice rumbled, deep and reassuring. He had yet to even break a sweat as he jogged. "And when you mess with the Bull, you get the horns."

"Your horns are most impressive," Mahanon said, puffing with exertion as they crossed the rock bridge. "But the Dread Wolf is a god."

"He's not a god," Ellana corrected irritably with a groan. "How many times do we—" She cut herself off, choking on the words because even now she knew she was thinking of Solas, defending him or making sure others understood him the way he wanted. Starting again she said, "How many times do I have to tell everyone that?"

"I thought you said he was?" Iron Bull blinked his single blue eye at her.

"No," she grumbled. "He's just a very powerful mage. A very powerful mage." Closing her eyes, she groaned again. "I'm not sure I can take much more of this bouncing. I'm probably going to vomit."

"Warn me first," Iron Bull said with a grunt. "If you puke on my shoulder guard I'll never get the smell out."

Their group crossed from one rock island to another, Arina and Sera still in the lead. Ellana squirmed in Iron Bull's arms, craning her neck to gaze behind him toward the island they'd left in the distance. She could still just see the eluvian, still dark. Then it lit up, glowing a cerulean blue, and, as if it knew she watched it, the mirror rippled and Lyris stepped through. The growing distance between them made the arcane warrior look tiny, but Ellana knew Lyris had the advantage in this place. As an Elvhen mage, she could Fade step over the gaps while most of their party couldn't or didn't know how.

She turned and shouted to Arina. "Lyris is behind us!"

The rogues leading their group quickened the pace, though neither Sera nor Arina glanced back at Ellana's call. Feeling bile in her throat as her heart pounded, Ellana kept turning to stare behind them as best she could over Iron Bull's bulky, muscled shoulder. Lyris had indeed seen them and came streaking in their direction, Fade stepping a gap and then trotting onto a bridge to cross a longer expanse. Apparently there were some gaps that were just too wide even for Elvhen mages. It didn't seem to matter, however, as the arcane warrior had already crossed an enormous distance in half the time it'd taken them. She would catch them unless they reached an eluvian soon.

Up ahead, as if Arina had read Ellana's mind, she heard the rogue shouting for Dorian. "Shemlen! Mage! I need you!"

As Iron Bull stepped off the latest rock bridge, Dorian edged past him, muttering under his breath, "Yes, yes, of course you do. Everyone needs me." Mahanon and the Dalish warriors stepped aside, allowing Dorian through.

"Let me down," Ellana said, squirming again.

"You got it, Boss." Iron Bull eased her down feet first and Ellana found with a cool burst of relief that her legs bore her weight easily now. She took a spot near Rainier at the edge of the rock bridge, staring out into the void at where Lyris had reached the island next to their own. In only another few heartbeats she'd be at the edge of that island and could likely Fade step directly over the gap.

"Any tips on how to fight her?" Rainier asked, brandishing a sword with a hilt that had halla horns twining over the hand guards.

"We try reasoning with her first," Ellana said, risking a glance over her shoulder to where Dorian now stood beside Arina and Sera. Her keen ears heard the sentinel rogue shouting the passphrase Dorian needed.

"Ellana," Lyris shouted over the gap at them. "Stop this foolishness. Come back with me, I beg you!" She'd paused at the edge of the island, beside the rock bridge connecting the two solid landmasses. The stiff set of her body, legs splayed in a fighting stance with knees slightly bent, told Ellana she was ready to fight.

"I can't do that," Ellana yelled back to her, the words hoarse and strained through her pain. "I won't help Solas kill himself and destroy Thedas."

"You're being deceived," Lyris called, shaking her head and baring her teeth. "Mythal will use you, as she uses everyone."

"Solas used me," Ellana roared back at the warrior, snarling. Her fists clenched, nostrils flaring as she breathed. "To fight the Qunari. To recruit the Dalish clans." Thrusting her left hand up into the air, displaying the still glowing and painful Anchor, she yelled, "And someday he'll use me for this too. At least Mythal is honest."

"Honest?" Lyris shot back, the disgust in her voice making her already deep voice manlike and gravelly. "What do you know of Mythal, Ellana? Truly?"

"I know she aided us against Corypheus," Ellana growled. "I know she has told me the truth about Fen'Harel being the one who caused the Breach and the conclave explosion when he gave that monster his orb."

"Solas did what?" Rainier asked at her side, gawking.

"Shit," Iron Bull snarled and then muttered something in Qunlat.

From the eluvian Ellana heard Dorian shout, "Cry havoc in the moonlight." Out of the corner of one eye she saw the dark eluvian light up, glowing blue. Then, immediately, it began to thrum as Sera ran through it.

"Through the mirror," Arina shrieked, desperate. "Ellana!"

"Ellana," Mahanon called for her as well.

"Go," she yelled at him without breaking eye contact with Lyris. "All of you, start going through the mirror."

"Not without you, Lana," Lerand said behind her, the note of devotion in his voice making her shiver even as she gritted her teeth, steeling herself against whatever might come next.

Her left hand opened and closed at her side, the pain still cutting through it like a knife, but Ellana blocked it out. Sweat lined her forehead as she held her palm outward, letting Lyris see it. "Don't make me use this," she begged.

"You're making a mistake," Lyris said, hissing the words. Her brow furrowed, her eyes narrowing and glimmering with emotion. "Mythal's help always carries a price. Fen'Harel may have misled you or held back the truth but—"

"No," Ellana shouted shrilly, almost choking on the word. "He lied to me."

Lyris shook her head, her expression warping with something akin to devastation. "Please, do not do this. Fen'Harel needs you. And you need him. He's the only one who can save your life when the Anchor destabilizes. He has his agents in Tevinter scouring the whole Imperium hoping to find something to save you."

"Mythal will help me," Ellana said, though her heart pounded and the sweat dousing her skin had turned icy cold.

"Will she?" Lyris growled, flashing a hard, humorless grin. "Or is she just telling you what you want to hear?"

"I say they're all full of shit," Iron Bull snarled, brandishing an axe that had a motif of ivy leaves spiraling up it. Another elven design.

"Don't listen to her, Ellana," Arina yelled from beside the eluvian.

"I told you to go through the mirror," Ellana snapped. She started to back up, pushing Lerand with her right hand to make room for her as she went. Samhel broke from the line of warriors and sprinted for the mirror next, rushing through it. Iron Bull charged after the Dalish warrior next now that there was more room, but Rainier and Lerand stayed with Ellana as she backed off the rock bridge and onto the island, gradually distancing themselves from the arcane warrior.

Lyris took a step onto the rock bridge, but she'd dropped her battle ready stance. Now her hunched shoulders and stiff steps revealed only the bitterness of defeat. "Think of your child, Ellana," she pleaded. "It will need Fen—" She broke off, shaking her head once and starting again. "Your child will need its father. There is no one else who can teach it to control the powers it will possess."

"Then it's a shame Solas is determined to kill himself restoring all of Thedas," Ellana retorted only to shudder, biting back the sob that tried to wrench its way out of her chest. "Fenedhis," she whimpered, too quiet for Lyris to hear. "I'm doing this for him." Even after he'd lied to her about the orb, distanced himself from her and hidden the full, ugly breadth of his actions in Tevinter and across Thedas.

He loves you, Lyris had told her. Would he understand why she'd done this? The baby kicked against her ribs and she gripped her belly, gritting her teeth as she struggled not to break out into inconsolable sobs.

"Ellana," Lyris said again, taking another two steps onto the bridge. "Please."

She raised her head, sucking in a wavering breath, her left hand still glowing as she held it aloft. "Go help him fight the Forgotten Ones, Lyris," she said, her lips trembling. "Tell him I'm doing this to save him and Thedas. Tell him I love him. Please. Just go."

Lyris had frozen on the rock bridge, staring at Ellana with her jaw clenched and her brow furrowed. "Tell me where he can find you," she begged, quiet enough that Ellana almost didn't hear it. "Tell me and I will go."

Shuddering, Ellana almost collapsed with relief. Her left hand flopped down at her side as she nodded. "We will be in the Dales. I'm not sure where."

Lyris sighed, shoulders slumping even more. "So be it." Then, without another word, she pivoted on her heel and Fade stepped back to the other island, jogging away from them.

"A reasonable woman indeed," Rainier commented, sheathing his sword. "I'm glad of it."

Lerand wrapped an arm around her waist and ducked beneath Ellana's other arm, taking her weight onto his shoulders. She buckled with the threat of attack now gone, her chest burning and aching with grief. Every breath hurt.

Mahanon rushed to her other side, helping her as well as they made their way to the eluvian. Through her despair Ellana managed to hold her breath, steeling herself for the blast of pain she expected from the Anchor. The cold magic of the eluvian passed over her like a blast of water and for a heartbeat she was weightless and she recalled the simple comfort and peace of the strange dream she'd had before meeting the shadowy consciousness of her child in the Fade.

Then they stumbled out into the waking world, into a dim, dank space that smelled of mildew and mud and was lit only by veilfire sconces lining the cracked, ancient stone walls. The Anchor crackled, lighting up brighter and streaking with pain, tendrils of it shooting up into her elbow. Ellana cried out, shaking body wide as her legs gave out. Lerand and Mahanon kept her upright, though both of them called to her with panic tingeing their voices.

Through blurry, tear-laden eyes, Ellana saw Sera, Samhel, Iron Bull, and several other elven figures wearing the now familiar gleaming metal of sentinel armor. One of them, hooded and imposing, strode toward her. Even through her pain Ellana recognized Abelas.

"Keep her up," he instructed Lerand and Mahanon. Then he reached for her left hand and forced her fingers to open so he could grip it in his own. Sizzling pain shot through Ellana's hand and she screamed, jerking against his hold.

"Lana!" Lerand cried.

"Fenedhis," Mahanon yelled, his voice blustery with rage. "What are you doing?" He released Ellana's waist and shot a blast of ice at Abelas, but the sentinel blocked it without pause or effort.

And then, before anyone else could retaliate, Abelas let go of her and Ellana sucked in a shaky, wet breath, shoulders heaving. The Anchor no longer glowed and the pain had ceased, leaving only the faint tingle of magic.

"You bastard," Iron Bull growled. "The fuck was that?"

"Yeah," Sera snarled. "Start talking or I feed you arrows."

"I'm all right," Ellana said, hoarse and weak. "It's…better."

"My apologies," Abelas said, speaking to everyone in the dank little space. "The Anchor collects magic. I merely discharged it in a safe manner."

"And how did you know to do that?" Mahanon asked, growling.

Abelas arched a brow. "Fen'Harel anticipated a moment such as this one and taught most of Mythal's sentinels and his warriors what would be required." His cold, golden eyes drilled into Ellana as she struggled to catch her breath and recover, but after a beat his expression softened. "I am sorry for causing you pain."

Ellana couldn't find the breath or the energy to answer him. His words echoed through her mind like a gong: Fen'Harel anticipated this. She'd thought she left the Game at Halamshiral, but in truth she'd just changed playing fields. Worse, she wasn't even a player. She was a pawn.

Exhausted, Ellana let her eyes drift shut. The world went black.

Next Chapter:

Glancing to the sentinels watching from behind Abelas, lit green by veilfire, Ellana asked, "The Veil is thin here?"

"Indeed," Abelas said. "You intend to do it here." It wasn't a question.

"Do what?" Dorian asked, still gawking. "Tear open a rift so we can have a nice romantic stroll with some rage demons? That sounds like a lovely end to a very exciting day. Just wait here a moment and I'll fetch Iron Bull so we can enjoy it together." He broke off scoffing with a snarl. "Have you gone mad, Ellana?"