A/N: And so, good news everyone! I didn't die while moving cross country! And so, after a delay, here is the next chapter in our saga!

Twenty-Five

Friendly Fire

"Fen'Harel sent us to find you," Mathrel said to Ellana in his low, rough voice, breaking the silence that'd descended in the shock after Ellana had accidentally let lightning slip from her fingers.

Dorian snorted. "Really? I'd never have guessed."

Both arcane warriors glared at Dorian, but it was Lyris who returned her gaze to Ellana and when she spoke it was with anger. "Do you know what danger you put yourself in by leaving his side? You endanger both yourself and your child."

"This may come as a shock to you," Ellana said with a scowl of annoyance. "But I've spent years in dangerous situations as Inquisitor and even before that as a hunter in my clan. I think I can take care of myself without Solas for a few hours."

"He lied to me," Cole murmured behind her under his breath. "How can I tell the lies from the truth? Pain, in my throat, in my chest. Your father's going to be so angry with me, little one."

"Seriously," Iron Bull growled, glowering at the spirit boy. "Knock that crap off."

"Hold up a moment," Dorian interjected, raising his voice and spreading his hands in a gesture revealing his incredulity. "Are we really not going to discuss what just happened? Am I perhaps seeing things now or Ellana, did you just…" He waggled the fingers of one hand. "Yes. You did. I know you did. I saw it and felt it. How did you cast lightning?"

"It is the Fade, shemlen," Abelas answered, curt and to the point.

"Meaning what, exactly?" Dorian rejoined, one hand on his hip. "That I hallucinated the lightning? That all of us imagined it?"

"Our people are all gifted with magic when the Fade and the waking world are one," Ellana told him, closing her eyes as she struggled to quell the tempest of tight, pleasurable energy swimming inside her. Breathing deeply to keep herself calm and suddenly afraid of making any unthinking gesture with her hands, Ellana crossed her arms over her belly.

"Oh," Dorian said with a hum. "Interesting." He turned and tapped the back of his hand onto Iron Bull's chest. "What about you?"

Iron Bull snorted. "I got nothing."

"Enough," Mathrel shouted from outside the rune circle. He brandished his spectral blade, filling the humid, peaceful night air with a loud buzzing like enormous angry hornets. The blade glowed whitish in color, reflecting from Mathrel's armored thighs. "Abelas, you and your sentinels have betrayed Fen'Harel and poured lies into Ellana's ears to turn her against him in the name of your false goddess. Your dead false goddess."

Abelas spat something vicious in elven and his sentinels tensed, their hands raised and open, ready to cast. The few rogues within the circle of runes readied their bows and Ellana wondered dizzily how magic impacted archery even as she knew she couldn't sate that curiosity now. She couldn't let these Elvhen fools start slaughtering each other in the names of their respective Evanuris.

"Stop," she shouted, gripping her armor with both hands to keep herself from accidentally casting something. "Stop this. You're being ridiculous." Glaring at Mathrel, she said, "I came here willingly and I will not be dragged back to Solas as if I'm some sort disobedient child." Before he could retort, Ellana pivoted to glower at Abelas. "And you, order your sentinels to stand down. There's no need for us to fight. We share the same goals."

Abelas glared at her, his lip curling, but he said nothing, remaining frozen. His sentinels stayed tensed, ready to let their magic and their arrows fly.

Licking her lips, Ellana pressed on, determined to convince him. "Hahren," she said, lowering her voice with respect. "There are too few Elvhen remaining. All of your lives are valuable. The People—my people—will need your wisdom." She hesitated a second and then added, "And Mythal's wisdom."

Now the sentinel's body language eased. He made a slight gesture toward the other sentinels and they relaxed, lowering their hands and weapons. "Thank you, lethallan," he said with a nod to her. "You remind us of what is important. I only pray the warriors will take heed as I have."

At that, Mathrel's spectral blade winked out and he waved a hand dismissively at Arina. "Go," he snarled at her. The rogue was on her feet in an instant, springing for the circle of runes. As she passed through it Ellana saw greenish light swirl over her for a moment and the rogue gasped, suddenly grinning.

"Fenedhis," she swore and laughed. "I forgot how good magic feels." Her eyes found Ellana's and unbidden both women started laughing despite the turmoil of moments ago.

"Fingers tingling, skin alive. How did I live without this? How could I forget this feeling?" Cole said, whispering as his own face lit up with a smile. "I'm glad."

Looking between her fellow sentinels, Arina smirked and abruptly cast veilfire, holding the green flames in her palms. The white-green light lit the grin on her face garishly. Another sentinel, a man who carried a bow in his left hand, used the other to summon veilfire as well. Chuckling, the two began tossing the orbs between them, making the green lights dance.

Watching them made Ellana's hands close into fists, her eyes following the light. The energy inside her curled, flexing as if with eagerness. She held it back, suddenly remembering all the horror stories she'd heard during her time with the Inquisition of young children first manifesting their talents and destroying homes or entire villages with their ignorant, clumsy casting. Even in her clan there were stories of such things, though they were mostly amusing rather than frightening. Ellana's father had often talked of accidentally setting fire to the clearing around their camp, frightening the halla. And Mahanon had frozen a campfire after burning himself when his talent first manifested.

"It is true then," Mathrel said from outside the circle. "You have restored the Fade within that tiny area." The slight curl of his upper lip revealed he wasn't happy, though Ellana didn't know why until he added, "Such a small space will help no one. Are we to cram thousands of the people into that one clearing? I think not."

"We will expand it," Ellana explained, patient and calm. "It will take time and we could be vulnerable to attack, but this is the right course for our people."

"For our people or is it merely that you wish to preserve your lover's life?" Mathrel asked, shaking his head and frowning. "Fen'Harel is more powerful than you know. He may yet survive tearing down the Veil. Your plan—" Cutting himself off, Mathrel sneered at Abelas. "Mythal's plan, will take years to accomplish."

"We'll start small," Ellana insisted, ignoring his comment that she was motivated more by saving Solas than anything else. "And it may take years, yes, but this way will save both the People and the other races of Thedas." She sensed Dorian and Iron Bull listening intently and could almost feel their frowns as they tried to ferret out how exactly Solas or the elves planned to conquer Thedas.

"But we will need Fen'Harel's help," Abelas added, stepping closer to her. His armor gleamed green from the veilfire orbs that Arina and the other sentinels had cast in the clearing while playing. "We must find a way to allow sprits to pass through the rune circle and there is no one better suited or motivated for such a task."

Appealing to Solas' ego and his interest in spirits, Ellana thought as she shot Abelas a sidelong glance. Clever.

"Then I will bring him," Mathrel said, though the unhappy twist of his features was still obvious. He turned to Lyris and, in a rare display of affection, laid a hand on her cheek. "Remain here, emma lath. I will return shortly."

Lyris gripped his hand and nodded. As he jogged away, the sound of the underbrush rustling as he passed, Lyris faced the circle of runes. She tucked her hands behind her back, squaring her shoulders as the warrior she was. "Ellana, I will protect you until—"

"I can protect myself," Ellana interrupted her with a shake of her head. At Lyris' brief flash of dismay Ellana sighed and made an effort to relax, keeping her voice softer as she added, "But you're welcome to step inside the circle." Glancing to Abelas, she said, "And I'd like to start expanding this. We have a lot of work yet to do."

Abelas arched an eyebrow. "Indeed we do, da'len." Motioning off to their left, deeper into the glade of trees, he said, "Might I suggest you begin another rift over there. We shall tie the runes together so the circles overlap just slightly."

Flexing her hand, feeling the Anchor respond with more strength—and yet less pain—than she ever had before, Ellana grinned. "All right then." Turning her head to Lyris, she motioned at the warrior. "Come on. Let's get to work."

The army of mages flowed out from the prison construct eluvian and into the Crossroads in a steady, but slow line. Solas watched them from a nearby island with Zevanni as his side. He counted them with his gaze, assessing each mage for any telltale signs that his or her magic had failed and left them exposed to Blight. If the wards failed the mages would glimmer brightly with a sheen of red due to another enchantment that exposed Blight infection. So far, thankfully, his precautions had held and none carried the infection.

They'd lost more than he'd hoped, but fewer than he'd expected. With Abelas and the sentinels already gone their numbers had been less than three hundred strong. Now they were closer to two-hundred only with another twenty five heavily wounded. Solas had been forced to perform a mercy killing on a few men and women who'd been too close to Banal'anaris and Geldauran and succumbed to the nothingness or the mindless rage of the demons after the ferocity of the fight had ended. Still others could succumb to the exposure later. Solas would have to keep an eye on them and provide time for the little army to recover before conducting any other raids or skirmishes.

He'd have to rely on trade, hunting, or Zevanni's guerrilla force tactics with the warriors and rogues still at camp to feed this army. Before he could stop it, his mind turned to Ellana, wondering if she'd eaten well and if she was safe. She'd complained of indigestion and an inability to eat much in one sitting now as the child had grown bigger. Solas usually spent his evenings and mornings trying to persuade her to keep eating.

She won't be there when you return, the hateful voice in his head reminded him. Abelas took her. His hands clenched into fists and his heart began to race, sweat breaking out where the wolf headdress met with his scalp.

"You're upset," Zevanni observed aloud. In a sidelong glance Solas saw her frown as she gestured to the army still walking past below. "I call this a triumph, yet you're brooding." She hesitated as he turned his head, staring at her with his lips pressed into a hard line. Then she sighed. "I saw Lyris and Mathrel leave. This has something to do with your pet shem, doesn't it? The one round with your elfling?"

"I would rather not discuss it," Solas said, curt and cold.

"I didn't see her by the eluvian when we left," Zevanni said with a smirk. "Did you leave without telling her? How cruel, Fen'Harel." Yet, the way her voice cracked with amusement, Solas knew she apparently didn't disapprove.

"As I said," Solas repeated, growling now. "I would rather not discuss it."

"Fen'Harel enansal," she replied with a dry chuckle. "Ma nuvenin, in all things." The suggestive lilt of her voice made it clear he could—and she hoped he would—ask for something naughty.

Solas ignored her, staring stoic and unblinking at the army as it filed past.

A few minutes later, as Solas and Zevanni turned to change position and move along with the mages traveling below between islands; Solas heard the whine and pop of someone Fade stepping. A few moments later he saw the accompanying blue-white streak and recognized Mathrel, hurrying toward them over the void. Heart suddenly pounding up into his throat, Solas Fade stepped forward and teleported a few times to close the distance faster, leaving Zevanni behind. He and Mathrel met on a rock spit parallel to the army passing by several meters away.

"What news?" he asked the warrior at once.

Mathrel breathed quickly, winded and with his mana low from the rapid travel and constant casting. "She is well," he said, doubtless knowing Solas would care first and foremost for her health. "They did not go far from the eluvian." After another breathe he added, "She is in the Dales. With Abelas and the sentinels."

"I suspected as much," Solas growled. Noting Lyris wasn't with him, Solas asked, "You left Lyris with them?"

Mathrel nodded. "Yes, falon. I could not risk leaving her unprotected."

A little of the cold fear setting his heart pounding eased. "Ma serannas," he thanked the other elf. Glancing to the army, he heard Zevanni pop out of Fade step behind him and clenched his jaw, making his decision. He had already healed and tended to the army as much as he could and had little need to remain here overseeing them personally.

"Zevanni," he called, looking over his shoulder at her. "You are to finish escorting the army back to Hellathen Hamin. Ensure none are infected with Blight, malice, or the nothing."

"And where will you go, Fen'Harel?" she asked, the frown on her face carried heavy in her voice.

"I must see to the sentinels who betrayed us," he told her, lighthearted despite the hard smile on his lips. "It would be rude of me to keep them waiting."

She grinned, approving now. "Ma nuvenin," she said and Fade stepped away to stand watch over the army from a higher vantage point.

"Ellana will resist if you intend to punish Abelas," Mathrel muttered in warning. "She was adamant we not fight one another."

"I understand this," Solas said with a nod. "My words were for Zevanni."

A knowing look flashed through Mathrel's eyes, but he made no comment. "I will take you to the eluvian if you are ready."

Solas motioned outward, indicating the Crossroads. "I am, falon."

Mathrel took off in a Fade step and after a heartbeat, Solas did the same. Their shapes streaked together through the Crossroads as they veered away from the army.

With the experience of creating one rune circle behind them, Ellana and Abelas worked faster now completing the second. After destroying the demons that poured from the rift she opened, Ellana joined Abelas, several sentinels, Dorian, and Lyris walking physically through the Fade. Different sentinels cut their hands to supply the blood for the new runes this time, shouldering the burden of blood magic amongst themselves.

The Fade was dank and dark, the sand clinging to her feet and making slick sucking sounds with every step. Dorian and Lyris stayed closest to Ellana, protective shadows like two parents shepherding their clumsy daughter. The thought made Ellana's face burn all the way to the tips of her pointed ears. She quashed her indignity however when she found herself stumbling as she walked toward the first of the runes written in sentinel blood. Both Dorian and Lyris reached for her, keeping her steady.

Gripping them both, Ellana frowned as the blush spread over her cheeks. "Thank you," she said, speaking mostly to Dorian. Looking at Lyris reminded her of Solas' lie. The arcane warrior was, after all, just a glorified spy and babysitter for Solas.

"We can't have you falling in that muck now, can we?" Dorian asked, smiling at her warmly though she didn't miss the strain in his brown eyes. "And unfortunately for us, I suspect that little belly of yours isn't made out of rubber so you're not liable to bounce."

"She would hurt herself and the child," Lyris said, her voice sharp with reprimand.

"I know that," Dorian said with a little irritated huff.

Shooting Lyris an annoyed look of her own, Ellana tugged her arm from the warrior's grip. "He was making a joke."

"It was a poor one," Lyris said, deadpan.

"At least I have a sense of humor," Dorian retorted icily. "Something lacking it would seem in most of you pompous elven mages—including that bald buffoon who thinks he's a wolf."

Ellana rolled her eyes and slogged her way through the sand when she saw Abelas turn to throw them all an impatient look. "Come on, we have work to do."

Lyris fell behind her, body language stiff and tense though her face was neutral.

After activating all of the blood runes they returned to the physical world once more. As they stepped through the Fade rift Dorian moved to her left side while Abelas stayed on her right. "Are you sure it's wise to keep using the Anchor like this?" Dorian asked her, a note of concern in his voice.

"Honestly it hurts less now than it has all day since I came through the eluvians," Ellana said as she strode to the first rune spot. She found the Anchor sluggish outside of the first circle, requiring her to concentrate and focus on summoning it as Abelas finished the first rune on the tree trunk in front of them. A moment later it crackled to life and she shot a bolt of green energy at the mark, activating it.

"I suppose we have you to thank for the lack of pain she's experiencing?" Dorian asked Abelas.

The sentinel barely spared him a glance before striding to the next cardinal point and picking out a suitable rock to draw the rune on. He squatted, making quick slashes over the stone. "Discharging the Anchor would make it more comfortable, I imagine. Though I suspect Ellana will be able to discharge it herself with practice."

Following him, Ellana asked, "Can you teach me?"

"Of course, lethallan." Standing upright again, he motioned at the rune. "But let us complete this circle first. With at least two circles we will be able to make camp within the space."

Ellana activated the next several runes until she was finally at the last of them and found herself grinning as she raised her palm toward it, already anticipating the rush of the Fade as it meshed with reality. With a last blast of the green light from the Anchor, the runes activated and again the rush of wind tore through the treetops, scattering gray-green leaves and splattering them with a fine mist of water. The ether of the Fade wafted up from the ground, curling and whispering over Ellana's skin as the sweet, heady pleasure of what she now realized was magic swelled inside her.

Cole laughed behind her, saying, "The trees are happy!"

The Fade rift in the center of the second circle had winked out of existence, leaving the night air dark except for the veilfire orbs still hovering overtop of the first rune circle. Lyris was the first to cast veilfire now, her face beaming in the white-green light. After the third orb she let out a sigh, shoulders sagging. "I'd almost forgotten how it felt…"

"And the best part is Solas doesn't wind up slaughtering half of Thedas—or killing himself," Ellana said, eyes narrowed at Lyris even as the pleasure of magic still bubbled through her. When Lyris met her gaze, her expression saddened, Ellana realized at once that the warrior agreed with her. The shock of seeing it made her mouth fall open. "You agree with me?" she asked, needing to be sure.

Lyris' eyes drifted shut. "I care nothing for sparing the modern world, only the People." Opening her eyes again, she spoke in a quieter, more intimate voice. "And Solas."

The power of the warrior using Solas' name instead of his Evanuris title made Ellana blink, taken aback. She wondered at the strength of feeling she saw in the warrior's face, at the devotion she'd shown. Even though she and Mathrel proclaimed Solas to be a leader, not a god, their devotion rivaled that of the sentinels.

"Yes," Dorian interjected with a snarl, arms crossed over his chest. "How pleasant it is to hear all this. And how, pray tell, do you elves plan on destroying Thedas again?"

"That is not something we will discuss with you, shemlen," Abelas muttered, then looked at Ellana. "Are you fatigued or would you perhaps enjoy creating another circle?" Pointing back in the direction of the ruins, he said, "I would enjoy the shock on Fen'Harel's face when he emerges through the mirror and finds himself in the Fade." He smirked. "Wouldn't you, da'len?"

"Do you have a death wish?" Lyris asked with a growl. "Fen'Harel was…" Her brow knit. "…angry when I last saw him. If he is unprepared for the transition—"

"I say do it," Dorian said, smirking mischievously. "I want to see what's so impressive about that bastard because I fought beside him and he was no more talented than Vivienne or myself."

Lyris, Ellana, and Abelas ignored Dorian's interjection, staring at one another while the other sentinels lurked around the edges of the circle, tense and alert. Iron Bull stood conspicuously outside the two circles, closer to the ruins, leaning against a tree and with his chin lowered to his chest, probably nodding off.

It was Cole who broke the thick silence, jabbering in his usual spirit way. "They don't know, haven't seen. The fire roars, louder than the wind from a high-dragon's wings. The sun gleams on his armor, but none can touch him. His eyes glow and warriors turn to stone, shatter into dust. After the battle, grit crunches on my teeth. The taste of ash—but it used to be a person. Hundreds dead, burned away in heartbeats."

Staring at Cole, Ellana shivered. Searching both Abelas and Lyris' reactions to the spirit boy's comments, she noted that the arcane warrior had gone stiff, her jaw clenching. It was Lyris Cole had read, but Ellana had already suspected as much. Abelas had served Mythal in her temple, possibly in her army. Had he ever fought at her side? Had he ever seen firsthand what she was capable of? And how did Mythal compare to Solas?

"Perhaps you are right," Abelas said to Lyris with a significant nod. "Fen'Harel has not tasted the Fade properly in some time. He should be warned before entering it."

"I'd still like to create another circle," Ellana said, thrusting out her chin and squaring her shoulders to hide the exhaustion pulling on her bones. "We do have a tremendous about of work ahead of us. There's no sense stopping now."

Abelas smiled. "I admire your enthusiasm, lethallan."

They moved to the first circle and then headed further from the ruins that held the eluvian, deeper into the forest by a few steps. Leaving the runes made her feel immediately weaker. Her steps slowed, as everything in her body seemed to cry out with loss. The warm coil of energy inside her vanished, leaving a hollow and empty sensation in its wake. How had she not noticed it before? The ache continued unabated, reminding her of the loss, though until only a short time ago she'd never known she was missing something. It was as if she'd lived her life blind, only to receive vision, grow to love it, and lose it immediately again.

Each circle was only about fifty meters in diameter, large enough to pitch a few tents within but small when juxtaposed with how enormous they'd need to spread them to encompass the Emerald Graves—let alone the Dales. Considering it made Ellana's head feel thick and heavy as she walked into the center of the new position. Yet she could feel the icy breath of time clawing at her and the baby kicked, reminding her how difficult this would soon become when she was saddled with an infant.

"Lethallan?" Abelas asked her, his voice soft as he brushed her forearm with one hand. She jumped, twisting to look at him as she shook off her thoughts.

"Are you well?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at her reaction.

"Apologies," she murmured, flushing. She realized her right hand had fallen to her belly, caressing it. She let it drop to her side. "I'm fine." Seeing the sentinels, Lyris, Dorian, and even Iron Bull had all taken up battle ready positions, Ellana summoned the power of the Anchor to open her third Fade rift for the night.

With a crackle the green energy shot out, colliding with the air at about waist level and exploding with spirit energy. The light made her eyes water, bright and beautiful, ether dribbling out of it as Ellana tore it wide enough to draw spirits through. With a little explosion the first demons began to materialize in scattered spots around the rift and Ellana readied her bow, nocking an arrow and drawing it. She picked one particular pool of goo and held her breath.

The green goo rippled and flashed as a despair demon emerged with a wailing shriek. Ellana let her arrow fly with a shout, then scampered to the side, drawing another. Iron Bull lunged in before the demon could get its bearings and target Ellana. He twirled in a circle, slashing with his axe, cutting into its rags and gray skin. The demon shrieked and made a graceful hop, leaping away toward a small hill covered in orange-brown ferns. Roaring, Iron Bull charged after it, but Ellana stayed put, breathing hard and shallow as she tracked the demon with her arrow.

Then, suddenly, from behind the despair demon, voices shouted. Ellana lowered her bow as she saw Rainier appear, his sword slashing and his armor glittering as it reflected the green light from the rift. She grinned as she saw Lerand and Samhel join the fray, hacking and slashing, their slender, lithe bodies dancing around the despair demon, avoiding its chilling ice rays. Iron Bull let out a triumphant laugh as he cut into the despair demon next, making it crumple and dissolve. Its essence streaked away, returning to the Fade through the rift. As all four warriors turned to join her and the sentinels, Ellana found her heart pounding and pride swelling in her chest at the sight of her friends and her clansmen fighting as one unit with such natural ease.

A shriek from behind her was the only warning she had before a terror demon lurched toward her. Ellana scrambled back from it, ducking and weaving and gnashing her teeth. She could have flipped away but the pregnancy had disrupted her balance, making her clumsy enough that she didn't trust herself not to fall and hurt herself—or worse, the baby.

"Someone, help!" she shouted as she continued backing up, hoping to get just enough distance away to draw her bow and shoot.

From in the direction of the first rune circle, Ellana heard and saw movement, recognizing Sera and Mahanon as they sprinted toward her. Mahanon shouted, "Asamalin!" Sister.

And then several things happened so fast Ellana couldn't keep them straight. She heard Sera shriek and saw a streak of blue-white ice—Mahanon's magic—collide with the terror demon. In the same instant something struck her shoulder hard, knocking her hard onto one knee. Pain burned through her left shoulder, as fierce as the Anchor had been when it needed to be discharged. Had the demon struck her? But she could remember it cringing back from Mahanon's attack…

When she sucked in a breath she found her chest seemed to fight her. Her lungs were aflame and she felt every heartbeat as a fist pummeling her from inside. She coughed, finding that her lungs felt thick with wetness, as if she suddenly had a cold. Panicked thoughts spun as she realized she must be bleeding internally. The terror demon shrieked again overhead and she heard the shouts of the others fighting, but the sounds were faint and tinny in her ears through the haze of pain and panic.

Dizziness made the world spin. She hacked again and this time saw, through blurry vision obscured by tears, that blood had splattered from her mouth to the grass. When she inhaled again her lungs were thick and panic beat a stronger pulse inside her as the suffocating sensation continued, overwhelming even her pain.

I'm drowning, she thought and coughed again, more violently. Drowning in my own blood.

Strong hands were on her then, voices shouting and shaking her. The pain in her shoulder burned hotter again but she couldn't find the strength to cry out—coughing was more important. She had to breathe. But every cough brought up the harsh tang of iron, thick and gritting. She spat, trembling as she heard the terrifying gurgling noises coming from her own throat.

Mahanon was in front of her, his hot hands on her cheeks and his hazel eyes gleaming with tears. "Ellana," he yelled. "Stay calm—hold on."

She wanted to speak to him but could only give another weak, liquid cough. Blood spattered onto his cheeks and he flinched but didn't pull away as his hands grabbed at her shoulder, fumbling with the pad and the chainmail.

"Sorry," Sera was shouting, shrill and hysterical. "I'm so, so, so, frigging sorry! I don't know what happened. Don't die! You can't die!"

The panic pounding inside her had started to ease as cold settled in. She coughed again, wincing as more hands grabbed at her head and throat, prying open her mouth. It was a healing potion, green and cheerful, but though Ellana tried to swallow it she couldn't keep herself from coughing and jerking her head away as she fought to inhale. "Dammit, Ellana," Dorian yelled, fear twisting his voice, making it thick. "You have to swallow it! Please!"

Heat blazed on her shoulder, both front and back. Dimly, Ellana realized Abelas was behind her, knelt and with his hands on her skin. Mahanon was in front of her, tears streaking down his face and intermixing with her blood on his cheeks. She flinched at the pain the heat of their touch caused her, but she didn't have the strength or presence of thought to really pull away.

"We have to pull out the arrow."

"That will kill her, you shem fool. She'll bleed out."

"Then stop it, damn you!"

She couldn't recognize who spoke any more and that made her frown. Everything felt so heavy in her body, but her head had gone light. She coughed again, weakly, her head nodding forward. Hands grabbed her shoulders, tilted her head backward and forced open her mouth again. More liquid poured into her mouth but Ellana couldn't swallow it without choking, gagging and coughing. Her mouth tasted of salt and iron.

And then she heard a high-pitched whine and a loud pop. She thought she should recognize it but didn't have the strength to turn her head and look in that direction. Instead she thought of her baby, of its shadow self in the Fade. She was so tired, her head swimming. Everything hurt and she couldn't breathe. Remembering the dream she'd had of the dark and weightlessness when she'd breathed water, she closed her eyes and thought, I'm dreaming. Yes, that's it.

Then the world moved, spinning in a new way. She was weightless, except she could feel arms beneath her, her limp body jostling. Her skin tingled, the pleasurable sensation managing to penetrate the thick fog of her mind and the chilly numbness of her skin. Pain laced through her shoulder again, distant and faint. Then light flared against her eyelids, as bright as a sun.

Startled, she managed to open her eyes and found Solas staring down at her, his brow knit and his eyes glowing a deep, iridescent green. Something burned inside her, hot and sharp and obliterating. She gnashed her teeth at the sudden, intense sensation after having slipped into numbness. The pain swelled until her mind shied from it, fracturing.

Darkness fell over her.

Solas had Fade stepped up the short ruined stairs from a black hallway just behind Mathrel and immediately heard the shrill shouts of people in panic. Lunging past Mathrel, he Fade stepped forward into the forest, seeing the dim green-white glow of veilfire ahead. As he rounded an enormous tree, Solas saw Dorian, Abelas, Mahanon, Lyris, and half a dozen others lingering around a central figure—Ellana—on her knees. A Fade rift twined in the air behind them but there was no sign of demons.

Horror clutched at his heart, making the organ feel as though it was about to pop out of his chest. He surfed ahead only to pop out just shy of them by about fifty meters as his mana core seemed to fluctuate so wildly he stumbled, gasping. For a moment he stood dazed, his skin bathed in sweat as he saw the blood all over Ellana's chin and neck, an arrow sticking out of her left shoulder. Then something swelled inside him, thunder roared in his ears and he found himself breathing in huge lung-fulls of air though he shouldn't have been winded at all. His skin flushed with tingling, the teasing caress of magic.

Of the Fade.

He heard Mathrel pop out of Fade step just behind him, gasping with the same shock to his system. "Fenedhis," the warrior said, groaning as if with both pain and pleasure.

A sizzling sound erupted from the hidden pocket in his wolf headdress. With a jolt he recalled the foci and immediately passed a blue-glowing palm over his head, deactivating the ward that kept the headdress on him. Tearing it off, he thrust it toward Mathrel without a word and Fade stepped again to close the remaining distance between himself and where Ellana was bleeding out—dying despite the efforts of everyone around her.

He staggered again just a few meters from her, as though he'd passed some invisible barrier. His core shrank, making him gasp at the suddenness of the change, but he shook it off and sprinted the remaining distance.

"Release her," he growled, the words barely coherent. Mahanon and Lyris stumbled backward from him and in the greenish light Solas saw the blood spatter coating Mahanon's face and clothing. With his stomach clenching and bile rising in his throat, Solas grabbed at Ellana's shoulders and then her legs. Abelas and Dorian let him take her, their eyes following him with something desperate and grim.

He Fade stepped back to the spot where he'd felt the Fade and this time didn't react as he felt the explosion of power in his mana core and the warm caress of the Fade returning to him, singing its joyful song in his blood in full force. Dropping to his knees, Solas kept her head elevated, trying not to see the way her body flopped, limp and lifeless. Her skin had gone ashen gray—the pallor of a corpse.

With his free hand Solas clasped his hand around the arrow shaft and willed it away. The arrow dissolved into Fade ether, green ribbons that he wafted away. Then, palm open, he placed his hand to her wound, grimacing at the slickness of her blood. Drawing on that now massive mana reserve, Solas cast the most powerful healing spell he knew. His hand glowed brilliantly, his eyes burning in their sockets as he shaped his mana into spirit energy and channeled all of it into Ellana.

She made a wet noise, inhaling, and her eyes fluttered open. For a heartbeat she stared up into his face and Solas saw recognition and awareness swimming in her expression along with the pain. Then her eyes rolled backwards and her eyelids slammed shut again. Her head lolled, limp and lifeless—yet Solas could still feel her spirit present in her body. Magic sang through her, twining through every part of her. Solas maintained the spell in silence, concentrating wholly on keeping her alive until the magic could penetrate deep into her flesh and mend it.

Finally he sensed something seem to snap back into place and the spell cut off, ceasing as though it'd sensed it was no longer needed. Solas let his head droop forward, his shoulders heaving and his head reeling as much from emotion as from mana expenditure. Shifting her gently in his arms, Solas cradled her against his chest and rose to his feet.

Mathrel stood in front of him, a tight, nervous smile on his lips. He held the wolf headdress clutched behind his back, as though hiding it—which wasn't far from the truth as he no doubt could sense the foci too and hoped to use his own body to shield Ellana from it. "She lives?" he asked.

"She lives," he confirmed, but the words emerged in a growl as shock wore off, replaced by the all-consuming flame of rage. Pivoting, he glowered at the others where they stood, staring and taut with fear and grief. He felt the roiling, seething mass of his core, alive and as massive as a dragon, tensing as it railed against his control, demanding blood.

He wanted to turn them to stone and then to shatter those statues and grind them into dust beneath his heels. He wanted to immolate them all in a flash fire so massive and so intense it'd destroy miles of the forest with it. He wanted to cast a storm of spirit energy over them that'd linger over them like a suffocating blanket, torturing them with pain until they died in agony. He wanted to command the earth itself to swallow them whole, to crush them in its black depths. He wanted to tear them apart with lightning, to splatter their entrails over the grass and ferns.

If he'd been even a minute later, Ellana would have died. Even with the Fade restored where he now stood it was doubtful any of the mages here would possess the knowledge or mana reserves to have saved her.

He drew in a quavering breath, quashing the fury inside and spoke instead in a deadly quiet. "Please explain to me how this happened."

Next Chapter:

Cole turned his head to look at Solas. "He doesn't like me. Should I make him forget again?"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Mahanon muttered with a smirk.

"Leave them be, Cole," Solas admonished gently. To Mahanon he said, "The People must learn not to fear spirits. Most are harmless and those that are not are usually simple enough to—"

"Maker's breath," Dorian interrupted him, looking ashen with cold as he huddled in front of the tent he'd shared with Iron Bull. "If I hear one more word about spirits that isn't actually referencing an intoxicating beverage, I may just vomit."

Shooting the Tevinter a venomous glare, Solas said, deliberately, "Spirits."