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After Hawke broke the second seal, Larius emerged from the shadows. Varric wasn't sure he liked the way their ghoulish guide disappeared the moment there was a fight to be had. Although he supposed that if you were going to survive in a forgotten tower, avoiding danger would be the way to go.

"He wakes!" Larius said breathlessly to Hawke, bobbing his head as though this Corypheus waking was a good thing. "The magic grows lax. He feels us walk where no step goes."

"You'd think the darkspawn would have taken him by now," Sunshine whispered.

But Blondie shook his head. "They say once the corruption goes far enough, the darkspawn can't sense you any longer. They probably think he's one of them."

Varric looked up at the mage. No wonder he'd left the Wardens, if that was the kind of future they'd consigned him to without telling him. Of course, leaving them didn't get him free of the future, just away from those who gave it to him. Maybe that was why he carried the spirit within him, in hopes that it would stave off the corruption. Or maybe just as a flip of the middle finger to the Wardens.

Either way, this tower wasn't doing Blondie any favors. He didn't look like he had slept in days, and he kept twitching like he was hearing things the rest of them weren't.

"So many years in darkness …" Blondie murmured, his eyes resting sympathetically on what remained of his fellow Warden.

"Who is waking? Corypheus?" Hawke asked Larius sharply.

"He calls. Like an Old God. He mimics their song."

Blondie drew in his breath. "So that's what it is. Can the rest of you hear it? I thought it was just me."

"Hear what?" Sunshine asked.

"He calls us to free him; the dark children and the light. Any with taint in their blood."

Hawke swore under her breath. Bringing Blondie had seemed like a good idea at the time, but clearly it had been the wrong choice. If only they'd known.

Sunshine frowned. "Is Corypheus an Old God, then? Or is he something else?"

"More than darkspawn. More than human. He thinks; he talks; he pierces the Veil."

"He's a mage?"

"An awakened darkspawn," Blondie corrected. "An emissary. The worst kind. When I was with the Wardens at Amaranthine, we met a darkspawn like that. Powerful; persuasive. I didn't realize there were others like him."

"But if he's asleep, how is he sending people after me?"

"He calls in his dreams. He does not know."

Varric shuddered. "A darkspawn mage who calls people in his sleep without knowing it? Hawke, what have you gotten me into?"

"Trouble as usual, Varric. Nothing we can't handle." But there was something in her voice that sounded uncertain, a rarity for Hawke. She looked down at him, her green eyes soft. "I wish I could send you and Bethany home."

Blondie snorted a laugh at that, and Sunshine bristled. Varric was torn between bristling himself—as if he'd let his Hawke walk into danger without him—and wanting to drag Mina off to the nearest room and kiss her while he had the chance.

He shook off the impulse. That had never been a good idea, and it still wasn't. "I'm fine," he said, patting Bianca in his usual manner. "We'll get through, no problem."

Hawke looked down at Varric, wondering if she'd imagined the look of longing that had crossed his face. Someday she'd have to decide what to do about that. But not here in a crumbling tower with a crazed darkspawn mage sending signals to one of their companions in his sleep.

Larius came closer to her, looking up into her face. "When the seals are gone, he will wake. And he must die."

That, she could handle. "Done," she said crisply.

The ghoul in the remnants of the Warden's armor disappeared into the darkness again.

"I guess we're on our own again," Varric said, sighing. "I wish he'd stop doing that."

"The alternative is to have him with us all the time." Bethany shivered. "No, thank you."

Hawke agreed. "Better if we're on our own as much as possible. I don't trust him, anyway."

"Nor should you. The taint does strange things to people."

She looked at Anders, wondering if he was talking about himself. "Come on, then. Let's keep going. I, for one, would like to get out of here sometime in this age." Thinking longingly about a hot bath, and hot food, and copious amounts of ale, she led the way down another flight of steps and into what seemed to be the lowest level of the tower.

Stagnant pools of water were everywhere, covered in green scum, and the stench that rose from them was overwhelming. Simultaneously, they all exclaimed in disgust and pulled kerchiefs up over their faces to try to block at least some of the miasma.

"Well, the good news is that the only way to go from here is up. We must be at least halfway through," Hawke said, speaking loudly to be heard through her scarf.

"That's the good news?" Varric stepped in something and tried vainly to scrape whatever it was off his boots. "Hawke, I worry about you sometimes."

"There are times when you don't?"

Hawke glared at Anders and kept walking. "The faster we move, the sooner we get out of here."

"It's a nice theory."

"I liked you better when there wasn't a thousand-year-old darkspawn whispering in your ear," she snapped at him.

"Yes, well, so did I. One extra voice in my head is more than enough."

It was the first time she had ever heard him speak negatively about Justice, which would have been a good sign if she didn't suspect that somewhere in Anders' head the other two were fighting over who got to keep him.

She clapped him on the shoulder, wishing she could help, and led the way into the swamp.