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Hawke looked up from the report on her desk, startled as Bodahn announced her visitor—Varric. "What's wrong?" she asked immediately. It wasn't unheard of that Varric left the Hanged Man without her, but it was certainly unusual.

"Hawke." He hesitated, looking uncharacteristically nervous, and Mina's pulse leaped. Was it possible that he was finally here to— But his next words cut that hope off before it could grow. "Remember that Hightown house Bartrand barricaded himself in?"

Trying to cover her disappointment, she nodded. "Of course."

"Well, since there was no point in keeping a house for a dead man, I've been trying to get rid of the place for ages now."

"I can only imagine there's a huge market for the homes of deranged killers."

"You might be surprised. Unfortunately, the creepy sort of people who are interested are generally not the ones with the coin to take it off my hands. But I finally found a minor noble in Rivain who bought the place sight unseen. But there's a problem."

"Well, naturally. Nothing in our lives could go smoothly."

"They say the place is haunted."

Hawke couldn't help but smile. "Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be? Now, personally, I'd have expected the first complaint to be about the corpses in the hall."

"It's not the only mansion in Hightown with that problem." They both smiled at that one, thinking of the decaying bodies Fenris kept in his rundown mansion. Varric cleared his throat. "Besides, I may have … neglected to mention the place's colorful past to the buyer."

"And you didn't think to clear it out before he took possession?"

"I was kind of hoping I wouldn't have to. But he sent people on ahead to clean it out, and they've been complaining about some … minor problems."

"Such as?"

"Oh, you know. Voices whispering in the walls, apparitions, things moving on their own."

Hawke sighed. "And you want us to go investigate."

"It does seem like the kind of thing we do."

"It does at that." Hawke pushed her chair back. "All right, let's go for a tour of your haunted house."

"Now?"

"Now."

She brought Fenris and Isabela with them, as two of the most practical people she knew, and the least likely to be disturbed by the supernatural. They hadn't gotten far into the mansion when they saw the problem. Crates lifted themselves and floated in the air, crockery flew at their heads.

Varric stopped short, looking around him. "Hey. Is that music? Where is that coming from?"

Hawke and Isabela looked at each other and shook their heads. As far as they could tell, the place was completely silent.

Fenris frowned slightly. "I hear nothing … but it is clear that something in this house is restless."

"I guess the buyer wasn't kidding. Maker, this is so inconvenient," Varric groaned.

"You have to admit, you could throw some killer parties in this place."

Hawke grinned at the pirate. "Emphasis on the killer."

"Is it even a party if you don't have to scrub blood out of the carpet later?"

Varric looked around again. "Where is that voice coming from?" His voice was unusally sharp.

"What voice?"

"The voice, Hawke," he snapped impatiently.

She stepped closer to him, concerned. "I don't hear anything."

"I can barely hear it. I wish I could make out the words," he muttered.

A book flew through the air and struck Isabela in the back of the head. Bending to pick it up, she saw it was a volume of pirate tales, and frowned at the invisible force that had flung it at her. "We get it already! House haunted. You can stop now!"

"I do not believe that is the point being made." Fenris shook his head. "I do not like this."

"What do you like, you broody bastard?" Varric growled at him, pushing him aside. "Let me past so I can find that voice. I'm getting close. I can feel it." Kneeling, he picked the lock on the door in front of them. As it swung open, Varric stopped short in the doorway, looking around him.

"What's wrong?" Hawke asked gently, seeing the way his shoulders had stiffened.

"This … all of this came from our estate in Orzammar." He shook his head, chuckling. "You wouldn't know it, but Bartrand was a sentimentalist. When I was seven, I broke one of Mother's plates. My brother yelled at me for an hour. That stupid plate was the whole city of Orzammar to him. There were actual tears in his eyes."

For a moment, Hawke wished she had known the person he was describing. But that Bartrand had been long gone by the time she came to Kirkwall, replaced by the greedy and arrogant man who had locked them in the Deep Roads over some idol.

Gently, Varric pulled the door closed again, and Hawke could hear the lock click closed.

Behind them, more crockery crashed, and Varric's head lifted, as though he was hearing things again. "This isn't random. The idol is still in the house, Hawke! It has to be."

"That damned idol again? Really?"

Varric turned a look on her that she had never seen before. "It's priceless, and I'm going to have it."

He marched off.

"That doesn't sound good," Isabela remarked.

"It's not." Hawke hurried after him.

In an upstairs bedroom, they found a terrified woman cowering behind a bed. "Are you real?" she asked them. "You've got to get out of here, before—before it comes back."

"Where's the idol?" Varric demanded.

"What idol?"

"Don't waste my time with your lies! Tell me where it is!" He was reaching for Bianca already.

Hawke put her hand over his, and he glared at her. It was the first time she had ever interfered with his use of Bianca. But she wasn't going to let him threaten some poor woman over an idol she clearly knew nothing about. "I didn't exactly want to stay for dinner, Varric, but I think we've got a few minutes to hear her out."

"She's hiding something, Hawke." He transferred the glare back to the woman. "Don't lie to me! I know it's here. You must have found it."

"I swear, I don't know anything about an idol. Please!"

Isabela slipped between Varric and Hawke, tugging the woman to her feet. "You get out of this place. We'll take it from here."

"Thank you!" And she was gone, dashing across the room as if she was being pursued by all the demons of the Void.

No sooner had the door slammed behind her than the entire house shook. A giant golem was crossing the foyer, coming toward the stairs. The four of them drew their weapons and attacked.

For a while, Hawke despaired of ever defeating it. They were exhausted, it was wearing them down, shaking the ground beneath them, landing punch after punch. At last, Fenris's lyrium powers saved the day, penetrating the thing's defenses.

When it was over, Hawke lay panting on the floor, only vaguely aware of Isabela throwing herself into Fenris's arms, vociferously praising his abilities.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Varric lean over the remains of the golem and pick up something—something that glittered red in the dimly lit room. "This … this is a piece of the idol."

Hawke sat up sharply.

"I should have known Bartrand would have lied to me. Of course he'd keep a piece of the statue for himself!" Varric clutched it to his chest. "Think of what we could do with this."

"I don't know about you, Varric, but I don't want to end up like Bartrand." Hawke got carefully to her feet.

"I'm not my brother, Hawke! The idol drove him crazy, but this is just one piece. One tiny piece. So tiny and beautiful." He was stroking it now, the way he usually stroked Bianca. "I need this thing. Six years of my life have gone into this!"

Hawke moved closer to him. "No, you don't. Everything that idol touches gets ruined. I won't let that happen to you. Varric. It has to be destroyed."

"You're not listening, Hawke! I know I can handle this shard."

"You're not listening, Varric." She was standing over him now, looking down at him, certain that everything she felt for him, all the fear that gripped her right now that she might lose him the way Bartrand had gone, was in her eyes. "Please don't do this. I can't lose you like this. Not like this."

For a very long moment, they looked at each other, Hawke fearing with every heartbeat that it might be too late to reach him. But at last his brown eyes cleared. "Fine. I don't want to argue about it." He held out his hand, with the shard resting on his palm. "You take it."

Relieved, Hawke took it from him. She'd take it home and give it Sandal, who would be able to tell her how to destroy it.

Without another word, Varric turned for the door. "I need some air."

"Aren't you going to go after him?" Isabela asked, coming to stand next to Hawke.

"Not now. That was … I want to get rid of this thing before I do anything else."

Fenris nodded. "Yes. It is more dangerous than it seems."

"You're telling me." Hawke closed her hand around the shard, and together the three of them left the house.