Chapter 29

Aedan ran a finger over the dark blue leather wrapped around the grip of his new dagger, moving over the finely crafted hilt and following the curve of the gleaming Silverite blade. He picked up the matching dagger and hefted their nicely balanced weight in each hand before giving an experimental flick of his wrists to see how they moved in his grip, and if he was being honest, to show off for Emma, who loved to watch him practice.

He turned to see if she'd noticed and realised she was no longer in the shop. "Where's Emma?" He tamped down the worry that bubbled up in his stomach; she could look after herself, yet he couldn't completely rid himself of the feeling that something was wrong.
"She went outside for a bit of fresh air," Wynne answered as she admired Alistair's new suit of armour.

He sheathed his blades as he left the shop and looked left and right, a frown pulling down his brows when he failed to spot her. He walked around the buildings, finally reaching the door to Wade's shop without seeing Emma. The worry that he'd previously managed to push down now erupted and morphed into full-blown panic. She wouldn't have just left them. He threw the door open. "We need to go."
Zevran looked up with a pained expression. "But I'm just haggling over-"
Aedan's deadly gaze pinned the elf. "Emma is missing."
"Say no more, my friend." The armour and weapons forgotten, everyone hurried out of the shop.

They decided to split into pairs to cover more ground; Zevran paired up with Leliana, Alistair with Wynne, and Aedan had his mabari. Aedan spotted a city guard, who wore a harassed look. "Excuse me, have you seen a woman around this area in the last ten minutes? She has long dark brown hair, green eyes, and carries a staff."
The guard's expression became more professional as he listened to Aedan. He answered without hesitation. "I know who you mean. She was resting back there." He jerked his thumb to the side indicating the overhang at the end of the building. "Then some kid asked her to help him free his dog."
Aedan ran a hand through his hair. "Which way did they go, and when did this happen?"
The guard pointed in the general direction, then added, "I looked away for a split second and when I looked back, they'd gone. I figure he took her down one of the side streets. At a guess, I'd say that was around five minutes ago."

Aedan sprinted off, slowing as he checked each alley carefully. It was at the third passage that his blood ran cold and he stopped, frozen with fear. It's not hers, it's not hers. The mantra circled his brain as his eyes remained glued to the object that had caused his heart to stutter painfully in his chest. Revek ran over to the item and snuffled around, then sat back on his haunches and released a mournful howl to the sky.

It was enough to get Aedan moving, and with slow, dragging steps he walked towards the dragon-head staff that lay in the dirt. As he bent to pick it up, his eyes were drawn to a pool of fresh blood and he dropped to his knees as rage swarmed through his body. He wanted to tear through everything and everyone who got in his way, he wanted to find the person responsible and rip them limb from limb. His body shook with the force of his anger, his fists clenched tightly, and his head felt about ready to explode. Unthinking, needing only to let out this overwhelming fury, he threw back his head and roared. The outburst of pain and sorrow echoed in the enclosed space like the screams of a tormented soul in the depths of hell.

"Fuck!" Aedan vaguely realised it was the first time he'd heard Alistair swear. Strong hands helped him to his feet, but his eyes were fixed on the dark red puddle staining the ground. Wynne grasped his chin and forcefully pulled his gaze to hers. "Don't give up on her, she's a strong woman with magic at her disposal."
He blinked as the words soaked into his dazed brain and his vision cleared. He gave a short nod, not trusting himself to speak.

Leliana looked up from her kneeling position, her eyes glinting angrily. "I have tracks here. One set belongs to a large, heavyset man and the other footprints could be a child or a small woman."
"A child. The guard said a child asked her to help him free his dog," Aedan answered, his voice sounding rough and unsteady to his ears.
"Who would do this?" Alistair queried. "We've only been in Denerim a few hours."
Aedan's gaze snapped up. "That damn Knight!"
Zevran pursed his lips, then shook his head. "I am sorry to disappoint you, but I do not believe it is so. The man was willing to fight a duel, this...," he indicated the scuffle marks in the dirt. "This does not seem to fit with his sense of honour."
"We will find out soon enough, once we follow these tracks to their destination." Leliana's cool and deadly tone caused a shiver to trickle down Aedan's spine. "And when we get there, we're going to show them the error of their ways."

Aedan's lips pulled back in a snarl, his fists clenched and his muscles bunched in an impressive display. "Let's go and get back my Angel, and Maker help them if she's...," his eyes slid to the blood. "No. Not even the Maker will be able to save them."

-x-

Emma woke on a damp stone floor. It took a few seconds for the grogginess to clear and she slowly pushed herself upright, wincing at the throbbing in her skull. A murky darkness hid her surroundings and she didn't mind that, preferring to accustom herself to one disaster before knowing whether something worse awaited her. So she leaned against a cold wall and rested her eyes while recalling the events that had led to her current situation.
"Little git," she muttered remembering the kid who'd led her to the trap. It seemed likely that she'd been kidnapped, but why? She certainly wasn't worth anything. The kidnappers seemingly lacked intelligence if they hadn't even bothered to look into the funds of the people they took. The first thing she needed to do was escape and get back to Denerim. Maker, how long had she been gone? Was she even near Denerim anymore? Oh shit, no one knew where she'd gone. She felt a twist of panic and shoved it back down. Now was not the time. She was a Grey Warden, a mage, and a tad scared. Mentally, she crossed out the last part. Silly brain!
Right, time to get a better idea of her location. With a groan, she pushed herself into a standing position and nearly ended up back on the floor as she swayed precariously. She reached out and her hand knocked against what appeared to be a wooden beam, which she thankfully hung onto while she waited for her head to stop spinning.

Eventually, feeling a bit steadier she moved around the walls, trying to get an idea of the size of the room, and hopefully find something to help her escape. She came across a few sacks, a couple of barrels, something hairy that she would not think about, and then she tripped over some stairs. She bit back a yelp and swore as the slight stumble caused the pain in her head to flare up. Carefully, she felt around with outstretched arms until she managed to find something that felt like a handrail. She silently let loose a few more choice swear words when she realised it was the same piece of wood she'd held onto when she'd nearly fallen over. If she'd turned around, she would have immediately found the stairs. Instead, she'd wandered around the whole room like a dithering idiot.

Feeling a bit better after the quietly whispered rant, she cautiously climbed the stairs. After ten steps, she reached a solid wooden door. With little hope, she reached for the handle, turned it, and heard an annoying click indicating its locked status. Nothing to worry about, she reassured herself. She'd fought darkspawn, including a couple of ogres, so one pissy little wooden door would not stop her. Her focus was a bit off, due to the bastard playing drums in her skull, but she soon managed to draw on her mana and freeze the handle and lock. She gritted her teeth and twisted with all her strength, there was a slight cracking sound and she grinned as she pushed against the door, only to find it still wouldn't budge. Well, shit! This sort of thing used to work for MacGyver.

She stepped back and eyed the door with a nasty glare. All right, well if ice wouldn't work, perhaps fire would. She pondered that for a moment, realising that setting fire to the door could be infinitely more dangerous than being kidnapped. Screw it! She wanted out of this shit hole with its strange hairy inhabitant, which she wasn't going to think about. She thanked God that she still had her cloak on, at least she could wrap that around her mouth and nose to filter out the worst of the smoke, but someone would come and check on the fire before it became too difficult to breathe.

She moved to the bottom of the stairs as a fireball flared up in the palm of her hand. After clearing the final step, she turned and flung the blazing orange ball at the door, then moved as far away as she could. The door was drier than the floor and the fire greedily ate away at the wood, filling the room with smoke at an alarming rate. Bollocks! She really should have paid more attention to the fire safety talks they used to have at work because it seemed she'd badly miscalculated how much time she had.

She wrapped the cloak around her face as she lay flat on the floor, trying to get below the deadly smoke. She lifted her head slightly at the sound of nearby shouting and running footsteps. In her happiness, she breathed in deep and the sooty smoke seared her lungs sending her into a paroxysm of coughing. Great, now she wouldn't even be able to fight whoever came for her. This plan was going from bad to worse. Her throat felt scorched with heated air as she struggled to pull in oxygen that was no longer there and her eyes streamed with tears as the smoke stung them. Vaguely, it occurred to her that she was again lying on the ground. Back to square one, she thought hazily. She could hear a harsh, grating noise that seemed to match each painful movement of her chest, and realised it was the sound of her breathing.

Doesn't sound good, should get that looked at, her brain helpfully piped up. She knew she should be panicking but it just seemed like too much effort, instead, she let herself drift ever closer to a warm and welcoming light.