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Hawke led the way briskly now, wanting to get out of the muck at the bottom of the tower, wanting to get this over with, wanting to go home and figure things out with Varric. Forcibly, if that was what it took to push him past whatever was stopping him.
Behind her, she heard Anders curse as he stumbled over something, and turned to see him prying an old leather-bound book out of the mud. "This is a Grey Warden seal," he said, running his fingers over it with more reverence than she would have expected. He gingerly opened the book, turning the crackling pages. "'The records say Corypheus has been trapped below the Vimmarks since the days of the Tevinter Empirium. … If one studies Kirkwall's public records, it becomes hard to deny that some malevolent force has long shaped its history.'"
"Did we need a book to tell us that?" Varric muttered.
"No. No, we didn't." Bethany shivered, and Hawke wondered what memory of the Gallows she was trying to repress. If she had anything to say about it, her sister was never going back there.
Suddenly Anders clutched his head, groaning loudly. "Make it stop! Shut up!"
Varric was at his side immediately, a hand on his elbow. "Come on, Blondie. You're strong enough to overcome this."
Hawke went to his other side. "It's going to be all right. We'll help you through this."
Even with them supporting him, the next attack, or paroxysm, or whatever was happening to him, doubled Anders over in pain.
"Bethany? Can you do anything?"
"Not without knowing what's wrong."
"Do you think it's that Calling he talked about?"
"No. I think it's Corypheus." Hawke didn't know why she was so certain, but she was.
"I can't … the voices … W-wardens. The Joining." Anders was struggling to speak. "I have—too much taint … in my blood. I can't—aaah!—I can't shut him out. Stop! Just make him stop talking. Make him stop!" He looked up at Hawke. "Help me …"
But she didn't know how to help him any more than Bethany did.
"I will not—" He ground the words out with difficulty.
And then another voice spoke from him entirely, the familiar blue glow of Justice taking him over. "I will not be controlled!" Justice announced.
Hawke fought the impulse that filled her every time Anders' spirit passenger made his presence known—to run them both through like the abomination they were. The sword on her back was quiet, though. It didn't thirst for Anders' blood. Because Anders was a puppet of Corypheus now, thanks to his blood? Or because the sword didn't care who Hawke brought with her as long as she took it to Corypheus?
"Let it go. There's a better way to fight him."
But Justice was not going to be appeased. "I will not be controlled!" he said again.
Hawke shook her head. "I can't take you anywhere."
Too late, she remembered that among the many, many things Justice didn't like, he really didn't like sarcasm. He raised Anders' staff above his head and when he brought it down, a whole gaggle of shades rose from the earth.
"Damn it, Blondie!" Varric shouted in annoyance as he drew Bianca and let her sing. It was hard enough to keep Hawke from killing the mage under normal circumstances. Now that he had let his spirit guide attack her? It was going to be downright impossible.
He and Sunshine took care of the shades while Hawke dealt with Blondie and his special friend. Varric was trusting her to go easy—they needed Blondie down here, and there were still people back in Kirkwall who needed him in his clinic.
At last the mage was down, beaten but not bloodied by the flat of Hawke's blade. As he lay in the mud panting, the blue glow of Justice receded. Looking up at Hawke, Blondie nodded. "Thank you." Slowly, groaning, he got to his feet. "I—I guess they're right. You never can truly leave the Wardens."
"Are you going to be all right?" Hawke asked, but there was a chill in her voice.
Varric could hear what she was really asking—if they could trust the mage not to stab them all in the back.
To his credit, Blondie didn't pretend not to understand her, and he didn't lie lightly to reassure her. "I—hope so. I hope I can hold against him." He added softly, "Against them both …"
It must be terrible to carry someone else's consciousness within you, to constantly be fighting for control of your own body, your own self. Looking at it that way, Varric thought Blondie had held out against sheer madness a lot longer than most people would have been able to.
Still … it wasn't a particularly reassuring answer, and Hawke was looking ominous. To lighten the mood, Varric said, "Let's just try not to do that again. Bianca hates being trained on her friends."
Blondie mustered a faint smile. "I don't much like looking at the business end of her myself."
"Then keep a hold on yourself," Hawke snapped. "We don't have time to stop and baby you along every time there are too many of you in there."
"Sister." The two Hawkes looked at each other for a moment.
"Fine," Mina said at last. "I apologize, Anders. That was harsh."
He shrugged. "I probably deserved it."
To Hawke's credit, she let that one go, and simply turned on her heel and started climbing the long muddy pathway toward the top of the tower.