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Hawke came into the Hanged Man a couple of days later with a face like thunder. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Sundermount."

Immediately, Varric felt a chill down his spine. This had to have something to do with Daisy. "Why are we going to Sundermount?"

"Because she's out of her mind, and this is the only way to make sure she doesn't hurt anyone."

"Including herself."

Hawke's icy silence was answer enough.

Varric grabbed her wrist to stop her as she was striding toward the door, assuming he was going to follow her. Most of the time, yes, but where Daisy was concerned Hawke didn't always think clearly. "What exactly did she say?"

She stopped and looked down at him, and her face softened. "She asked me to, okay, Varric? She wants to go out there and find this demon and make it make her mirror work—but she's not so far gone that she doesn't know it's going to turn on her. She asked me to come along because she knows I won't hesitate."

"And you're bringing me?"

They looked at each other. Varric was sure she knew about his tenderness toward the little lost elf … and he wasn't at all sure she liked it. "I'm bringing you to stop me in case my sword hand gets twitchy."

"Fair enough."

Aveline and Daisy were waiting for them outside the bar. "Fine day for a walk," Aveline said in her brisk way.

"Yes. Fine day for it," Hawke answered coolly, and she led the way toward the gates.

"Daisy, are you sure you want to do this?" Varric asked, falling into step with her.

"Yes."

"What if you talked to Marethari. Maybe she would—"

She turned a withering glare, worthy of Hawke herself, on him. "The Keeper would never help me."

"Does anyone else get the feeling that this is going to end badly? Just me?" he asked plaintively.

"It's not all bad, Varric. Think of the stories you'll be able to tell later."

He frowned at her. "No offense, Daisy, but I could live without telling anyone we murdered you on some mountainside. It's a little hard to make that one sound good."

She glanced down at him, but she had no response to that. He hoped she'd mull it over on the way to the mountain … but he wasn't about to bet on it.

Hawke stayed ahead of the others all the way out to the mountain, not wanting to talk to them. She hated to be backed into a corner—especially when that corner was likely to end in her killing one of her companions. They had barely escaped that desert tower without having to kill Anders, and she was far from sure she wouldn't be called on to do just that one of these days. Now Merrill.

Behind her, she heard the elf's soft voice. "You'll look after Hawke, Aveline, won't you?"

"Of course I will! What kind of a question is that?"

Hawke held back her snort. She looked after Aveline. She looked after all of them. She didn't need any looking after herself.

"And sometimes Isabela gets into awful trouble. You'll watch out for her, too?"

Now that was true. And Aveline, for all her tough talk, was as soft on the topic of Isabela as Varric was on the topic of Merrill or Anders.

"Merrill … what brought this on?" Aveline asked in concern.

"Anything could happen. You'll protect them, though. It's what you do."

"There's nothing to worry about, Merrill."

The silence that followed her statement was hardly reassuring. And it lasted all the way to Sundermount, through the camp full of sour-faced elves who glared and whispered to each other when they saw Merril coming. One of them said something about Marethari, and the other shook his head darkly and said the Keeper had made up her mind. Whatever she'd made her mind about, it hadn't improved conditions in the camp. The canvas covering the aravels was tattered, and the elves' clothing bore signs of a lot of mending.

Merrill stopped halfway up the mountain at a shrine to pray to someone called Mythal. Hawke held her breath, waiting for Flemeth to swoop down in dragon form and eat them all, or something, but nothing happened. She wasn't sure if she was relieved.

They reached the top, finally, and the opening to the cave. Dark and dank and smelling of decay.

Varric wrinkled his nose. "Who thought putting a demon in a cave on Sundermount was a good idea in the first place?"

Merrill smiled tightly. "Where would you have put him?"

Giving that one some thought, he said, "Tevinter, maybe. Or in the Anderfels. Further away from Kirkwall, that's for sure."

"Once Merrill gets what she wants and we kill it, it won't be anywhere near Kirkwall," Hawke said impatiently. "Let's get this over with."

Merrill frowned at her, but led the way inside the cave. Bones were scattered everywhere—some of them animal, but others human, or elven. Either the cave was also inhabited by bears or giant spiders, or the demon had been busy.

"Charming place. Wonder who their decorator is," Varric muttered.

"The same person who decorated Fenris's mansion." Hawke grinned at him.

Aveline rolled her eyes. "Oh, that awful place. You think now that he's playing pirate I can convince him to let me get it cleaned up?"

"I think it brings some charm to Hightown."

"Watch it, Hawke. After his place I'm coming for yours."

"Mine is spotless. Bodahn soaks me for a large amount of coin every month to keep it that way."

"It's not the outside of the mansion that worries me. It's what's inside."

Hawke smiled at her friend. "I'm okay, Aveline."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"Jury and executioner, too?"

"If I have to be." Aveline took hold of Hawke's arm and pulled her to a stop. "Just … be careful, Hawke. You don't want to get on Meredith's bad side."

"I know I don't. I'm just not sure she has another side to be on." Looking around, Hawke saw that Merrill had disappeared around a corner. "Come on. We can coninue this discussion later." She hurried after the elf.