"Isabella, we spent four days wandering around the Broken Coast trying to help you find this 'relic' of yours." I complained, dropping into a seat at the table in Varric's suite. "You could at least tell us what we were looking for so that we can help you better in the future."

Isabella set her ale down as she sat across from me, one eyebrow lifted. "I did. We were looking for a priceless relic that will get Castillion off my back, and let me sail the seas again."

It was a struggle not to scream at her to just tell me that it was a book so I could openly help her find the damned thing. I could remember that it was a book, and that the guy who had it was One-something-Sam. Or, at least, he would eventually have it.

But I didn't exactly have a good reason to hunt him down with Isabella telling me what she was after.

"You literally just described anything from an old bone to the crown of Orlais. Certainly not the old boot and worse poetry that was all we've managed to find so far."

"Did I?" She asked innocently.

I glowered some more. "Merrill. Give her the sad-Mabari eyes."

"You can't just say that." Merrill protested, settling in on my right. "I have to actually be sad to make it work."

"And," Isabella chimed in, "It wouldn't work anyway. Maeve, sweet thing, I do appreciate the help. I really do. But finding this relic is the only thing I'm doing in this city. You've got enough to deal with right now."

"And wouldn't it be easier if I could tell a few thousand Elves to keep an eye out for it?" I countered. "You know they would. Even Shina likes you, and she loathes most Humans."

She was shaking her head before I finished. "That would just draw attention. No. I'll let you know when I have another lead, and I'll certainly ask you to come along."

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Isabella... just tell me what kind of thing it is? I don't need the details, just, I don't know, a vague description. Is it a crown? A chalice? A necklace?"

"A belt?" Merrill suggested brightly, "A jewel? Oh, what was the treasure in that new Hard in Hightown?"

"A gem-covered sword." I provided, still watching Isabella's poker face. "Did you steal the urn with Andraste's ashes? Andraste's actual knickers?"

Isabella snorted, "I'm not telling you, sweet thing. You might as well give up."

Merrill giggled, "She could, but it's Maeve. Oh! Is it Fen'harel's collar? He'd have a collar, right?"

"If he's a wolf, sure. Our pictures of him are of a tall, bald man who liked to wear wolf pelts." I provided.

"Ohhh. I bet its his favorite wolf pelt then." Merrill nodded. "Although maybe not. Isabella would have probably worn it around for fun."

I nodded, "She definitely would have. Maybe it's not normal treasure. Maybe it's more historical... what's priceless without being gold, or owned by someone famous?"

She hummed in thought. "For the Dalish, anything from Arlathon really. Or even just the Kingdom of the Dales. I don't think it'd be something simple like a weapon or an urn though."

Come on Merrill, just say the word 'book' so I could see if her poker face cracked.

"...papers or tablets maybe? Art?" Merrill suggested. "Books or letters? Things with information we could use to rebuild our history, our magic."

Isabella didn't so much as blink. She just kept that little smile in place, staring back at me.

"Oh come on." I vented. "Give us something Isabella. We're your friends, and we're trying to help you be a pirate again."

Her fingers folded together, forming a bridge that she rested her chin on when she leaned forward. "You have the most gorgeous eyes."

"I..." I brought a hand up, rubbing at my forehead. "...Merrill?"

"They're not as pretty as hers." Merrill replied at once. "The brown is just a bit too dark... oh. I was supposed to say something else, wasn't I?"

I sighed, patting her thigh under the table. "It's all right, lethallan. She's not going to tell us while she's still sober."

Isabella's grin widened. "I dare you to try and keep pace with me tonight. I'll put as many sovereigns as I have that you'll be flat on the floor before I'm even unsteady on my feet."

That drew my glower back, if only because she was probably right about that. I was still glaring at her when our host arrived, chortling at the sight before him.

"What's it this time, Daisy?"

Merrill giggled, "Maeve's still trying to find out just what Isabella's relic is, but I'm pretty sure she's losing. That or Isabella's going to start taking her shirt off again like she did the last time Maeve asked."

"Mmm. I should have just led with that." Isabella purred, leaning forward just a bit more. Daring me to look down said shirt. "What do you think?"

I kept my eyes on hers. "I think you should stop flaunting and start dealing cards."

She chuckled, reaching down to pull out a deck. "Perhaps clothes instead of coin tonight?"

Varric's groan and Merrill's gasp came at the same time, my snort coming out a moment later. "No thanks. We'd definitely have to see Anders naked considering his luck, and I'm not prepared to be that traumatized."

The chuckle turned into another belly laugh, which made things move in very interesting ways...

...and I was staring at her chest.

I closed my eyes, grabbed my mug, and brought it to my lips. I didn't lower it until I'd taken several long gulps and some of the heat had faded from my face.

Heat that returned the moment I opened my eyes again to find Isabella smirking in triumph.

"Stop bragging, I know I'm weak." I muttered, "Just deal the cards already. Varric? What are we eating tonight?"

He grinned, finally taking his seat at the head of the table. "A rather noble dwarf may have paid the extra coin for a lamb roast. Should be done in an hour or so."

Merrill let out a happy little groan, "Do we get those cheesy turnips with it again?"

"I bought some just for you, Daisy." He assured her. "And a ship from Ferelden even had fresh cranberries for Buzz."

"Ew!" Merrill's exaggerated expression had me promptly elbow her in the side, which made her playfully bat at my arm. "Well they are gross! I really don't know why you miss them so much."

"Because they're delicious." I said. "You just have no taste."

She gasped as if I'd just insulted her mother, giving me a quick shove. I retaliated in kind, the two of us smacking at each other's hands until our next guest arrived. Guard-Captain Brennan snorted, grinning as she strolled in.

"Don't make me arrest you two ladies for brawling." Her armor clanked as she walked around the table, pulling out the chair beside Isabella. "Thrask's on his way up."

Varric nodded agreeably. "Good. Broody?"

Her smile faded. "He answered the door for once. That's the end of the good news. I only made it halfway through the question before he slammed that door in my face. Didn't say a word the entire time."

Everyone grimaced, except for Isabella. Her little grin stayed in place, but her eyes got completely flat. I met them, arching an eyebrow in a silent question. A tight shake of her head told me not to ask, so I didn't.

Whatever argument she and Fenris had on the way home apparently wasn't resolved yet. Or maybe they'd had another in private since then. Either way she didn't want to talk about it.

"Deal for six then. Blondie said he'd be late, if he makes it at all." Varric sighed. "I'll try and talk to Broody tomorrow. At least he didn't ignore you this time."

"Low bar." Brennan shook her head, "It's like it didn't occur to him that I'm the Guard-Captain. Oh, deal for seven though. We picked up a replacement."

That made us all sit up, facing her. Merrill beat the rest of us to asking, "Who? Do we know them?"

"I think everyone does, yeah." The guardswoman found her smile once more, clearly relishing in knowing something the rest of us didn't. "I figured it couldn't hurt to bring them along tonight, since we're not discussing any jobs tonight. Or are we?"

Varric shook his head, "Still trying to fix up the mess Bartrand made of his investments. Buzz?"

"Nothing for me." I said, "A quarter of the Alienage is still throwing a fit about the Chantry, even with me paying for all the shacks by the Western Wall to be replaced with real apartments. I've been doing nothing but get yelled at for the last week."

"No more attacks on your people?"

I shook my head, "Nothing that's come up to me, no. It won't last, but I think all of the construction in the city's doing its job of distracting everyone."

Brennan nodded, "Good. Sounds like the perfect time to break in a new member of our conspiracy then."

Merrill blinked, "We're a conspiracy? Like in Varric's stories?"

"Oh we definitely are." The brown-haired woman grinned, hefting her mug up. "To us, the true rulers of Kirkwall, from our noble thrones in the grand palace of the Hanged Man."

Everyone laughed, drinks rising. I clanked mine against Merrill's, both of us giggling as we sipped the ale before setting them back down down. And so, once again, more people arrived in the middle of laughter and merriment.

Thrask was in his armor, just as Brennan was. In contrast the woman at his side was dressed in a plain black shirt and red trousers, complete with boots. The former was filled out quite nicely, which is why it took me an extra moment to get up to her face. Even then, it was such an out of context outfit that it took me several seconds to realize just who it was.

"Petrice?" I blurted out. "What are you doing here?"

Petrice smiled, "I am told I will be eating good food in better company."

"Well, yeah, but we kind of spend all night gambling. Isn't that against your vows?"

"Technically." She replied, "However, taking donations in the name of Blessed Andraste is encouraged. I may, however, need to borrow a few coins to get started. They shall, of course, be repaid in turn."

I snorted, "We're terrible influences on you."

Her cheeks pinked, "I prefer to think of you all as pragmatic influences, keeping my eyes upon this mortal world rather than focused upon the next. May I sit to your left?"

At my permissive wave, she quickly came around, nodding to Merrill as she walked pass. While she sat between Varric and I, Thrask took the seat between him and Isabella on the other side. Our resident pirate finally stopped shuffling around then, tossing out cards rapid-rife to everyone.

I slid a handful coins in front of Petrice, eyeing my opening hand. "Casual until after dinner?"

"I think so." Varric replied. "Well Rivaini?"

Isabella promptly put down her opening bet, and the games were on. As usual Merrill and Thrask lost coin pretty rapidly, though Petrice managed to hold her own. Winning a few hands and avoiding over betting, which kept her more or less even, if behind Brennan and I. Varric and Isabella were probably cheating, as usual, racking up most of the wins in the preliminary round before dinner began to arrive.

Even with just salt, the roasted lamb was delicious. As were the cranberries, and I made sure to indicate just how much I loved them to Merrill.

"You." She shook her head, nose wrinkling when I popped another one into my mouth. "I don't know how you do it. They're so sharp and bitter."

Brennan snorted, holding her ale up toward me, "The perfect food for the sharpest and most bitter elf to ever elf."

I grinned, hefting a berry, "I'd throw this at you, but I missed them too much-hey!"

Petrice turned over the little cranberry she'd just stolen, inspecting the fruit. "I have never had one before. A Ferelden delicacy, is it not?"

"They're awful." Merrill said at once.

"They're delicious." I countered.

The blonde priestess hummed, then cautiously ate it. I could tell her reaction after the first bite from the way she locked up, cheeks sucking in a little. To her credit she didn't spit it out; she just chewed rapidly, swallowed, then grabbed her ale to wash the taste out.

"I..." She gasped when she finished. "...must agree with the Dalish, my lady. By the Maker, you really like those?"

I sighed, "Everyone's a critic."

Varric chuckled, "Speaking of critics, you have time to read the latest serials I sent you?"

"Yeah." I ate another cranberry, leaning back in my chair. "Hard in Hightown was good as usual. Hilariously over the top in the action and intrigue, it's a great casual read. Swords and Shields was better than the first issue. Got away from the mystery and more toward the romance."

"Good." He nodded, "It wasn't too... I don't know. Rosey?"

"It's tooth rotting levels of sweetness." I grinned, "I liked it."

Brennan shook her head, "I still can't believe that you're secretly a romantic, Maeve. That's about the last thing I'd have expected from you."

I huffed, picking up my ale, "There's nothing wrong with liking old fashioned courting, Brennan. Just because I look like a thug doesn't mean I am one."

She snorted. "Liar."

"...fair." I admitted, sipping the drink before going on, "But I'm not a full-time thug. That's an important distinction."

Petrice chuckled on my left, patting the back of my hand with hers. And if she let it linger there, it only made Isabella and Varric smirk more than usual. "That is is, my lady. Though I must say that you hardly look like a thug."

"You have seen my hair, right?"

"It is in dire need of a cut." She glanced up at the extremely ragged mess atop my head. "I do wish you'd let me correct it for you. You have an image to maintain after all."

Isabella grinned, resting an arm on the table. "Talk to me tomorrow, Sister. We're going to have to ambush her."

"Don't either of you dare." I growled, quickly looking to my right. "And don't you help them either."

Merrill gave her most innocent smile. "I'm sorry, I was thinking about baby Griffons."

I snorted, poking her in the side with my free hand, which just made her giggle. "You're a terrible liar, little sister. If you ambush me, and cut my hair, I'm finding a way to shave all three of you bald. Thrask will help."

Our quietest member choked a little on his ale, "Please, my lady, don't bring me into this."

"Besides," Isabella chimed in, "We've already got him on our side. His wife's got very steady hands with a razor, she's the one who keeps his cheeks so smooth. We'll get your messy head half-shaved again in no time, don't worry."

I glowered at each and every one of them in turn, which only drew more grins and laughs.

Further conversation had to wait, with Varric calling for the dive's waitresses to come in and take our plates away. They did so with far more grace than usual, and far more cheer, prompting the dwarf to admit that he'd given them the rest of the lamb.

That let me tease him some more about being a giant softy, Petrice defending his charity, looking as if she surprised herself by being so bold on her first night with us, and everyone else enjoying the show.

Cards began flying once the table was cleared once more. Silver replaced copper as the actual betting began, the rest of us filling in our newest player on the now traditional offer of a question rather than matching a bet... and the demand for a drink if you refused.

Thrask eyed the raise I'd just pushed in, sighing. "I shall regret this, my lady, but I shall take a question."

"Oh no. You're going to regret that when you give that offer to Isabella." I told him. "My question is easy. Do you think you could take our Guard-Captain in a friendly spar?"

Thrask chuckled, a smile barely visible under his red beard. "Our Guard-Captain is most skilled with the blade, but she is no Templar. I would win three strikes out of five."

Brennan leaned around Isabella, grinning viciously back at him. "Oh we are doing that, Templar. You're strong, but slow. I'll take you four out of five."

"If the Guard-Captain so believes." Thrask replied, alcohol loosening his usually stoic tongue. "I shall be happy to prove her wrong on the sparring grounds tomorrow. Isabella? I believe it is your-"

"Question." Isabella said at once, grinning. "And it had best be a good one, sweet thing."

I hummed, pretending to think about it. "Hmmm... what's the Relic?"

She rolled her eyes, bringing her ale to her lips. She smacked them when she finished, "Really? We're playing that game?"

"You bet your ass we are. Brennan?"

Cards were tossed down as she folded. Varric matched my bet with confident ease, leaving the Sister on my left to eye her cards for a long moment, then her collection of coins. After a moment's hesitation she matched the bet with a nervous nod.

I promptly kicked out one of my cards, taking another as the next round of betting kicked off with Merrill folding. Coins moved, Isabella dared me to ask the same question again, and I obliged her into taking another drink. Varric chortling, easily matching my bet, Petrice doing the same.

Varric won that round, handily trouncing us at the final turn.

Hands were dealt, coins moved, questions were asked. Some ale was drunk, but tonight everyone was content to pace themselves. Even after another half hour or so I wasn't even close to buzzed, neither was Merrill.

For her part, Isabella started answering my bets with coin after the fifth time I asked her what the Relic was. I started doing the same to hers when she started repeatedly asking who I was going to take to bed first; her or Petrice.

That worked until Petrice made the mistake of asking for a question to call a bet, and Isabella pounced.

"What are your intentions for our fearless leader?" She drawled, "And I don't mean your little plots against the Qunari."

Petrice apparently shared at least one trait with Merrill; she got louder and bolder the more she drank. She wasn't drunk yet either, but her inhibitions had definitely been loosened. "I have spoken vows before the Maker! There are no... intentions beyond demonstrating my care and affection for her. La splendeur des coeurs perdus."

The pirate gasped, putting a hand to her heart. "You would lead her on so? Don't worry, sweet thing. My bed will be open whenever you need to mend your broken heart."

"You would never get the Lady Maeve into your bed." Petrice put a hand on mine again, cheeks colored with both emotion and alcohol. "She is a lady, and adores being courted as one. Your crass words could never quicken her pulse. One would think someone of your purported... experience would be better at seducing someone you claim to know so well."

Brennan let a long, 'oooooohhhhh'. If she'd been from Earth I'd have expected her to say something about a sick burn.

Isabella mimed a dramatic gasp, glancing to Varric. "Did the poncy blonde Sister just call me a whore?"

"Oh she definitely did. Classily." Varric already had a quill and parchment out, sketching down notes, "And she didn't just call you a whore. She called you a failure of a whore."

"Did she?"

"Oh I most certainly did." Petrice assured her.

Merrill was giggling into her own ale next to me, eyes bouncing between everyone. "Is this finally when they duel for Maeve's love? I really want to see that."

"No." I said firmly, "No one is dueling for my love tonight. Or ever."

Isabella huffed, "You're just saying that because you know I'd win any duel."

I rolled my eyes, turning my hand over to squeeze Petrice's. "Of course you would. You're the deadliest pirate in the Waking Sea, and Petrice is a soon to be Revered Mother. Of course she's also not exactly wrong about my preferences, so you both win and lose tonight."

Petrice beamed at me, even as Isabella blinked rapidly. "What."

"I know she spoke vows." I told her, "but I did tell you that I like being courted, Isabella. Like, an hour ago, tops."

"Better than my flirting?" She demanded, sounding aghast.

"Yup." I smirked at her stunned expression. "Isabella, you are phenomenally beautiful, but you've got all the subtlety of brick when you flirt."

My friend gaped at me, then turned back to Varric. "I can't believe she just said that. I'm fantastic at flirting!"

Varric chortled without replying, still rapidly jotting down ideas.

With her usual ally apparently too amused to support her, Isabella turned back, clearly ready to resume the battle. Beside me, Petrice drew herself up as well, her resting-scowl sharpening despite the color to her cheeks.

I, meanwhile, was set to sit back and enjoy the show with the others when our eighth member finally deigned to arrive.

"Anders!" Merrill saw him slip in first, mug rising in cheer. "You're just in time! Petrice and Isabella are dueling for Maeve's heart!"

Our resident Gray Warden deserter didn't return the smile. "There's no time for that. We've got a problem."

Everyone went silent, facing him at once.

"News filtered down to the Underground." He said, voice hard, "That Maeve and her warriors aided the Templars in killing free mages on the coast line. There's a five hundred sovereign bounty on your head."

I let out a tight exhalation, leaving room for Thrask to rise to his feet. "They were blood mages who set a horde of the undead loose. She risked detection and her very life to see the survivors sent to the College rather than the Gallows."

"I know!" Anders sudden shout made half of us jumped. "I... dammit. I spent last night arguing about this, and then all day today. The rumors have gotten out of control, and I'm not being trusted with anything any more. They think Meredith intends to start mass-recruiting elves to bulk up the Templar's numbers."

Petrice shook her head, speaking, "Elves are already free to join the Templars if they wish, that is no secret. Few do, as their treatment among the ranks is... poor."

Anders made a frustrated sound. "I know that as well, but fear and suspicion are ruling everyone right now. Those of us that are more moderate are being pushed aside."

I heard my voice go very cold. "Anders. What is the Underground planning?"

"I don't know. I'd tell you if they did." He shook his head, "You're lucky an old friend of mine was able to pass word about the bounty at all. He's doing what he can, but the Templars in the Gallows have threatened to make an example of him with Tranquility."

That drew a furious hiss from Petrice, "A Harrowed Mage cannot be made Tranquil. That is the law of the Divine herself."

"Tell that to the Templars." He spat in reply. "Karl says three have already been stripped of their emotions."

She gaped at him, stunned. Thrask shook his head slowly, "I... have heard no such reports."

Brennan had sobered up with the rest of us, words quiet. "You weren't trusted even before you were sent out from the Gallows, Thrask. I bet all of the Templars in the city proper are being kept in the dark."

"...I fear that you are right." He glanced to Petrice. "The Seekers?"

"One inspected the Gallows not three months past. They congratulated Meredith on running a well organized Circle."

Everyone snorted, scowled, or otherwise shook their heads.

"Corruption." Thrask growled. "Violation of Chantry Law. It cannot be borne."

We all seemed to be in agreement on that, especially Anders, but it was Merrill who cleared her throat, "Um, so... what do we do?"

Petrice drummed her fingernails rapidly on the wooden table, then rose. "I have heard of one Seeker who is not corrupt, and met another. I shall write them both in the Grand Cleric's name with reports that Kirkwall's inspection was improper."

Anders grunted. "That will take months, and what will it actually accomplish?"

"It will give the Grand Cleric and the Divine the truth." Petrice said. "At the very least we can stop further Mages from being made Tranquil."

"While still allowing them to be caged, abused, and raped." He countered.

"Anders." I snapped. "We know. Petrice is doing what she can, don't snarl at her for doing her best. There's more going in Kirkwall than the plight of the Mages. Or would your rather the Qunari be the ones running the Gallows, stitching your mouth shut?"

He flinched. "...no, damn you, but that doesn't change the facts of it. We need to do more."

"And we're trying." I told him, "But dammit Anders. Look at us. Merrill and I are elves, we're barely able to keep our own people from being treated like slaves or lured away to the Qunari to be treated even worse. Isabella's got her own bounty on her head, and Varric's got to play Deshyr or the Merchant's Guild will start buying assassins to get his money."

Anders teeth ground. He started to speak only for Brennan to cut him off, the Guard-Captain's voice hard.

"Anders." She barked his name in a tone of command, and he seemed to straighten on old reflexes. "Maeve's right. We're doing what we can. Maker's balls, I make damned sure my patrols are out of the areas you tell me to avoid, letting who knows how many mages get out of the city. I am putting an enormous mount of trust in your word that they're actually leaving Kirkwall. Not waiting for a chance to attack the city from within."

He winced.

"Thrask and Petrice are letting you hide right in front of them." Brennan went on, as relentless as I had been. "They're letting Maeve and Merrill live free as well. We are doing what we can. We're not giving our lives to the cause of Mage Freedom like you are, but we're all risking execution to help you as much as we have. Do you understand?"

"...yes, but-"

"Do you understand, Warden!?"

The sudden bellow made him flinch, "Yes! I understand!"

"Good." She let out a tired sigh, "Don't make me do that again, all right? I want to be your friend, not... this."

"I... will try to keep my temper under control." He replied more quietly.

Silence fell again, eyes slowly moving around the table. They started to settle on me after not nearly enough time. All of them apparently expecting something.

"...I'm not our leader."

"Yes you are." Varric replied at once. "You can get out of leading your little guards, but you're stuck with us, Buzz. What do you think?"

I thought the situation was beyond screwed up, and drifting farther away from canon by the day. If not the bloody hour. Here I'd thought I'd be able to relax for months, years, after getting back from thee Deep Roads.

Dammit.

Chewing on my lip for a few moments let me get my scattered thoughts into order. Something about all of this felt... wrong. Like there was a sword above my head, invisible, but already poised to strike.

Like we were out of time, but we hadn't even known there was a clock running.

"Merrill?" I asked quietly. "Give me a check on the veil."

She cocked her head, "What do you mean?"

"I've just got... a feeling, like something's wrong but I can't place it. Is the veil, I don't know, thinner than usual? Is that what I'm picking up?"

Merrill hummed, eyes half-closing as she focused on her sense of magic. After a long moment she jerked in surprise, shaking her head rapidly. "Oh. Oh no. It's very thin. Very, very thin tonight. Something whispered to me as soon as I reached out."

"Shit." I hissed, "Anders?"

He was already focusing as well, blue sparks briefly appearing about his shoulders before he grunted. "There's a Rage demon very angry that Brennan talked sense into me."

All of the non-mages shifted uncomfortably, my own eyes probably going vacant as I did my own check.

Longing? I called out in my head, hoping she was listening.

The tether in my belly vibrated in an instant, then ghostly lips pressed against my ear. "The Dalish is right, the Veil is extremely thin. To the point whereI could easily speak to your mundane companions if I wished."

Oh hell. That was... not good.

How busy is it? I thought the question at her.

"Extremely. Lesser Rage demons prowl Kirkwall in the Fade, and Wrath himself lurks outside of the Warded Tower." She replied. "One of my less useful pets moves across the city. His heart is set with blood and steel... he intends violence tonight. Against your kind."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

"Something's happening." I whispered, certain that everyone could hear me. "The Underground is doing something tonight. Maybe targeting the Alienage, maybe the Templars... hell. Both, maybe."

Something they hadn't done in canon. Something attracting demons by the score, something thinning the veil. And if Longing was right, something targeting Elves.

"We need to move." I said firmly, straightening. "Thrask? Run back to the Alienage right now. Wake up Emeric, and get the entire Watch turned out."

He was already up and moving, vanishing through the door before I went on, "Brennan? Get back to the Keep and wake the Guard. I don't know what's happening, but even for Kirkwall the Veil's too thin. Someone is doing something dark tonight, or plans to."

Brennan nodded sharply, not arguing with me. "I'll get a muster, but I won't be able to lead them out of Hightown without proof."

"I understand. Anders? Your friend, Karl. The one that warned you on the bounty." I wasn't sure, but I thought that was the man from his recruitment quest. The one who would be made illegally Tranquil. "Get him out of the Gallows soonest. Go track down whatever moderate friends you've got left, bribe whatever Templars you need to, and get him out of there. Then keep your heads down for a while. Varric?"

"You want me with him?"

"Yeah. Use your silver tongue if you can." I paused, then added, "Fuck. Better idea, mug a smuggler on your way down and pose as new lyrium dealers. Trade it for getting Karl out. There's got to be some old Templars desperate enough for hits to make that swap."

"Probably. When were you thinking?" He asked.

"Tonight." I said bluntly. "If three were already made Tranquil, and he's being watched, he might next on their list. Get him out as soon as possible."

Anders shook his head, "I don't know if we can do that one night, Maeve."

"I think they're going to be distracted tonight. And would you rather him have a sunburst on his forehead?"

Real anger appeared on his face. "Point. Taken."

"Good. Petrice? Get back to the Grand Chantry." I shifted a hand, touching hers for a moment. "Rouse as many Templars there as you can, tell them there's a threat to the Grand Cleric. Be... be ready to treat any wounds. I think there's going to be plenty of those tonight. If we're wrong, then I guess we just play it off as a drill or test or something."

She nodded sharply. "I will gather the other Sisters and Brothers I have been recruiting, both for the Alienage and in our other project. We will be ready."

"Isabella?" I turned across the table. "If the Underground is blaming Elves, the Alienage might be a target. Can you come with Merrill and I tonight?"

She was already rising, "I suppose I don't have anything better to do. Let's go catch up with our Templar."

We all raced out of the Hanged Man, drawing concerned and alarmed looks from the still packed building. None of us answered their questions, beyond Varric shouting for everyone to stay indoors tonight.

The rain began to fall just as we ran outside.