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DRAGON AGE: THE CALLING 24 страница

Genevieve ignored her. "Duncan?" she asked him again.

"I... don't know," he admitted.

It felt weak, and his face burned in shame as her expression changed to disappointment. "So be it." She gestured to Utha and the others to go. "We will leave you alone for now, to think on your options." Duncan watched them file through the stone door, and when it closed behind them with a deep thoom his heart sank. He somehow felt as if he had missed his opportunity.

The cell felt empty now, with Utha gone. Her manacles and chains lay on the floor beside Kell accusingly, and Duncan tried not to stare at them. The hunter pulled his knees up and rested his head on them, exhausted with grief. Hafter whined and tried to nuzzle his black nose under Kell's arms, offering what support he could to his master.

"What do we do now?" Fiona asked hopelessly.

Nobody responded right away. Eventually Duncan looked at her. "What if you're wrong?" he asked. "What if it's not insane? What if insane is continuing to fight a hopeless battle when we have the chance to do something about it?"

"Is it hopeless?"

"Sure seems that way," he snorted. "You ever met a Grey Warden who's happy about it? How many more Blights are we going to fight before we lose? We could stop that!"

"Or you could make it worse," Maric chimed in.

"Doing nothing is worse!"

Maric sighed in resignation. "Since when has taking a shortcut ever turned out well, Duncan? This is not a plan that is being acted upon rationally. This is your commander grasping at straws, because this way she and her brother get to be heroes."

"I don't think that's it."

"No?" Maric looked incredulous."Your commander isn't exactly the most stable person, you know."

Kell raised his head from his lap sharply. "It's the Calling," he muttered, barely opening his eyes. "The song is in our heads, and under our skin. It is driving me slowly mad. If Genevieve was farther along than Utha and me..."

Maric nodded. "Then it's this Architect who is manipulating them. Waiting for this song you hear-"

"I don't hear it," Duncan insisted.

"My point is that this Bregan fellow must have been well along, himself. Genevieve is exactly the same way. They're at the point where they would need to kill themselves, walking into the Deep Roads. This song is in their head, making them crazy, and what does this darkspawn do? Offers them a chance to make it all better. To give their life meaning."

"What do you think he really wants?"

"Maybe he just wants to get to the Old Gods." Maric paused, considering. "Perhaps this is what starts the Blight the witch warned me about. This Architect being led straight to an Old God."

"Or it starts because we refused to help it," Duncan countered. "That Architect creature isn't like any darkspawn we've seen. Maybe it's not like the other darkspawn at all."

"Does that make it better?" Fiona asked. "These creatures are born of evil, Duncan. You know that. You feel inside you what they have swimming in their veins from birth. Do you really want to trust a creature that's known that and nothing else its entire life?"

"And it has allies," Kell pointed out. "Allies they won't tell us about." He seemed to be coming around to Fiona and Maric's point of view, Duncan saw, though the hunter hardly seemed pleased about it. He shook his head grimly. "Whether this creature is manipulating us or not, we can't take such a risk."

"But Genevieve is right!" Duncan protested. "Our duty is to defeat the Blight!"

Kell's pale eyes bored into him."Our duty is to defend mankind from the Blight." His voice was low and intense, and as he sat there he seemed to become more and more certain of his words. "There is a difference. We have stood up against the onslaught of the darkspawn time and time again, and that is our task. It is not for us to judge, to gamble with the lives of those in our care."

"But-"

"It is for us to make the hard decisions that must be made. We cannot pretend that this also makes us gods."

Duncan sat back against the stone wall, letting the chill of the stone press against the back of his neck. It felt good. His head swam, and he felt less sure what to think than before. Genevieve had always said the Grey Wardens did whatever needed to be done. If a village needed to be burned to the ground to keep the darkspawn from spreading, then it was burned. Nobody told them different. When a Blight was occurring, their word was paramount.

But this wasn't a Blight, was it? The darkspawn had not yet found their Old God, not yet infected it with the taint and made it rise as an Archdemon. The Grey Wardens' whole purpose had been to come here and prevent that from happening. Genevieve had told him that even the smallest chance of a Blight couldn't be permitted, and yet she had changed her tune. This plan of hers - there was a chance it could go awry and start a Blight. If that's what this Architect actually wanted, it could happen, and the Grey Wardens would be facilitating it rather than preventing it.

Genevieve believed the risk was worth it. She believed it fervently, he could see that just by looking at her. And she had wanted him to believe in it, as well. But perhaps she had lost sight of what she had come to do. Perhaps she wanted her life to have some meaning, to justify all the things that she had given up.

Or the things that had been taken from her.

"What do we do next?" he asked into the silence, refusing to look at the others even though he could feel their eyes on him. He stared studiously at his manacles. Part of him wanted to refuse, to spit in their eyes and stand by his commander. He had always thought her larger than life, a superhuman warrior who could do anything. That was why he had followed her to Ferelden, and agreed to go into the Deep Roads. She would defeat this menace single-handedly, prevent the coming Blight and prove herself to the Grey Wardens, and he would be there to support her. He owed it to her, if nothing else.

But then he remembered what she had said in her dream. Duncan had seen a side of her he hadn't even known existed. She was just human, and her dream had been no more grandiose than any of theirs. There was no reason to think that she was without fault. Somehow that left him feeling dejected and empty, like he had lost something incredibly important.

"We get out of here," Kell declared, his voice hushed.

"We need to warn Ferelden," Maric said. "We need to tell them that a Blight may be coming, or something worse."

"And if this Architect is right after all?" Duncan asked.

"Then our warnings will not be needed."

He thought about it, and then slowly nodded. "Okay, then."

Rocking back, Duncan brought his knees up between his arms until he could place his boots on the manacles. Fiona seemed about to object, but he ignored her. Pressing hard with the boots, he ignored the painful scraping of the iron on his wrists as he pushed the restraints as far up on his hands as they would go.

With a hiss between clenched teeth, he suddenly jerked his legs and popped his thumbs out of joint. The manacles tore at his skin and left a bloody trail as they slowly slid off his hands. They fell to the ground with a clatter and Duncan collapsed, panting with the effort.

Gritting his teeth, he pressed his hands hard against the ground, pushing his thumbs back into place. The pain was excruciating, and he could feel the tendons in his hands ripping under the flesh. Still, it worked.

He took a moment to get used to the stabbing pain, and then took a deep breath and leaped to his feet. Then he noticed the others staring at him in shock.

"What?" he asked with mock innocence. "You don't really think I haven't broken out of better prisons than this, do you?"

Reaching into his belt, he was pleased to find the lockpick still hidden away inside the leather. He held it up with a grin. "Let's get out of here before they come back."

Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,

I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure.

What you have created, no one can tear asunder.

-Canticle of Trials 1:10

The fact that Duncan was able to find their weapons was a stroke of luck. After some quick healing spells from Fiona, the lad had quietly pulled open the stone door to their cell and poked his head outside to ensure the coast was clear. According to the Grey Wardens' senses, the immediate area around their cell was mostly devoid of the creatures. No guards, no patrols, no locked doors- Duncan opined that even if the darkspawn were now taking prisoners, it clearly wasn't something with which they had much experience.

Maric was inclined to agree. Perhaps their captors couldn't

imagine the possibility that they could slip their chains. Or perhaps they couldn't imagine that they might want to. More likely they knew that there was nowhere for them to go but out into a horde of darkspawn.

Duncan had returned with their weapons bundled in his arms not a minute later. They had been stored in another cell next to theirs, along with their packs and the magical brooches that hid the Grey Wardens from darkspawn detection. Presumably all of it had been kept there for the eventuality in which they agreed to Genevieve's plan. Still, not even having a guard to watch over the weapons seemed foolish.

But perhaps these creatures didn't have guards. The Architect had implied that it didn't have full control over its own fellows. It had needed to swoop in and snatch Maric and the others from the jaws of the darkspawn who were attacking them, rather than ordering the attack to stop. It was an outsider, and thus its supply of minions to do such things as guard prison cells was limited or non-existent. Maric wasn't about to complain.

It felt good to have the dragonbone longsword back in his hands, even covered in the ogre's black ichor as it was. He had to wonder how they had even managed to touch it and bring it back here, but he wasn't about to question that bit of luck, either.

Fiona's staff was there, as was Kell's flail. The only weapons missing were Duncan's twin silverite daggers.The lad dug another weapon out of his pack, however: an obsidian dagger with an odd-looking carved handle. The lad tested the dagger's weight, making several slashes at the air with it. He seemed satisfied, and Maric had to admit it certainly looked deadly enough. The black blade reminded him a little of the Grey Wardens' brooches, though it was far fancier and almost glasslike.

"Well, at least you have a weapon you're familiar with," Maric commented.

"I stole it from the Circle of Magi when we were in the tower," Duncan said lightly. "I'd almost forgotten it was even in my pack."

Fiona had her staff back, and that allowed her the ability to light their way without relying solely on the bright glowstone hanging in their cell.

What followed wasn't luck, but Duncan proving how Genevieve had found him useful for more than his skill with a pair of daggers. The lad slowly led them through the halls of the ruin, occasionally sneaking ahead to scout a proper path but successfully keeping them from encounters with roaming darkspawn. Not that there were many of those- for whatever reason, the ruin seemed to have only a few of the creatures in it, passing through on their way to doing whatever it was that darkspawn did. Maric truly had no idea.

The ruin itself seemed to be some kind of abandoned dwarven fortress, from what Maric could tell. It was crumbling, the walls filled with cracks and gaping holes where the masonry had collapsed, the stones layered with a blackened skin spread by the taint. The entire structure smelled of dust and foulness. Was this in the Deep Roads? Or were they still below it? More important, how long would it be before Genevieve and her new allies discovered that they were gone?

The third time that Duncan came back from one of his brief scouting missions, he was scowling. Maric noticed fresh ichor dripping from his dagger. "It will only be a matter of time now," he groused.

"Did it see you?" Kell asked him.

"Of course not. You think they won't notice anyhow?"

The hunter frowned thoughtfully."Let's hurry, then."

They picked up the pace, darting into side rooms to hide whenever they sensed darkspawn coming near. Hafter growled deep in his throat as they waited in the darkness, but not loudly enough for the creatures to hear. Kell glared reproachfully at his hound, who at least had the good grace to look apologetic. The brooches still hid the Grey Wardens' presence, apparently. Either that or the darkspawn sensed them simply as others of their kind and didn't care.

After an hour of creeping their way through the dark and deserted hallways, Duncan eventually led them to a wide staircase that led down into darkness. Instead of continuing, however, he stopped and held up his hand behind him. He bit his lip as he stared ahead into the darkness.

"That's a lot of darkspawn," Fiona murmured.

"It sure is."

The Grey Wardens all looked concerned. Even Hafter flattened his ears back as he glared down the stairs, baring his teeth in a quiet growl. "How many are we talking?" Maric asked them.

"A hundred," Kell responded. "Maybe more."

"Is there another way out of here?"

"I was searching for one," Duncan sighed. "There was a larger passage that led out, I think, but it had a lot more darkspawn at the end of it. Thousands, maybe, I don't know. I didn't want to try that way."

"Good idea."

They stood at the top of the stairs, indecisive. This was why Genevieve and the others were unconcerned, after all. Even if they got out of their cell, what then? The only way out of the ruin led into a small army of darkspawn. They couldn't hope to battle their way past.

Duncan crept down the stairs into the shadows, waving at them to remain behind. Kell stared after the lad anxiously, but there was nothing they could do. It was either proceed now or turn back, and behind them lay only trouble. Genevieve would insist on taking them prisoner again, or trying to. And if she succeeded, she and her brother wouldn't make the same mistake twice. The darkspawn emissary might not know much about keeping prisoners, but they had no such shortcoming.

So they waited. Kell sat down on one of the steps, ruffling Hafter's furry head as the hound whined nervously. Fiona peered after Duncan, worry etched onto her face. Maric leaned against the stone wall and found himself staring at her. He watched her dark eyes and the curve of her neck. Odd that he should be fixated on such things as they stood there in that heavy silence, but he couldn't help himself. The thought of their night together kept spinning in his head.

"How will he even see out there?" he finally asked.

"Not well." Fiona said, and for a moment their eyes met. The mage averted her gaze instantly, but not before he saw something there. She was thinking of it, too.

"Fiona...," he said, but his voice trailed off. What was he supposed to say to her? This was hardly the time or the place, but he might not get another chance.

She didn't look at him. "Maric, you don't have to say anything."

"I feel like I do."

She looked like she was about to say something else, but her attention was drawn to Duncan's return. The lad appeared out of the shadows, stealthily creeping back up the stairs in a crouch. He stopped several feet from them, rubbing his chin. "Well," he muttered, "I won't lie to you. It's pretty bad."

Kell nodded slowly. The hunter's eyes were closed, and he looked pained. Patting Hafter's head one last time, he put his hands on his knees and pushed himself to his feet. "Tell us. What did you find?"

"The stairway breaks off at the end, and opens up into a natural cavern. A big one. The darkspawn are all out there. Digging, I think."

"Digging?"

"From what I could hear. I crawled around some, but I couldn't go far. As soon as you step out into the cavern, you're in full view of the darkspawn. There's nowhere to hide, and they won't miss us."

The hunter nodded again. "And? Is there a way out?"

"I couldn't see," Duncan sighed. "It seems like it sloped upward if we turn to the left, but there's no point. We'll never get past that horde. All we'd need is for a single one of them to look up from their digging and we'd be done."

"Then we find another way out," Maric stated firmly.

"No," Kell said. He turned and peered down the dark passage behind them. "I believe they have already discovered our disappearance and are looking for us now. We are out of time."

"Then we're done." Maric felt frustrated, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "Then we go back and surrender ourselves, and find another solution. We talk to Genevieve, or her brother. Make them see reason."

Duncan snorted. "You've met Genevieve, right?"

Fiona shook her head."Maric, I don't think that's going to help."

"So, what? You want to run out there and get ourselves killed?" He strode toward her and took her shoulders in his hands, made her look at him. She seemed dispirited, almost on the verge of tears.

"Maric..." She shook her head sadly.

"No! I am not letting you die! And I'm not going to die, either. I came here... I think I wanted to die. I think I welcomed it. I felt like I had nothing to live for, but that's changed!" He shook her shoulders emphatically, but it only made her look at him more pityingly.

"Maric, it's too late."

"I refuse to accept that. The Fiona I know, the one who stood up to that bastard who enslaved her, so would she." He set his jaw and stared at her, demanding that she not surrender, as if he could force her by will alone. Instead of wilting under his gaze, she grudgingly straightened and nodded. He saw the determination return to her eyes.

"Have it your way." She scowled.

"Whatever way you have it," Duncan chimed in, "we need to do something soon. The darkspawn are all connected to each other, and word is spreading fast. They're going to be swarming all over us in a minute or two."

"Then we go back and fight," Fiona declared. She pulled herself out of Maric's grasp, blue magical energies beginning to crackle around the head of her staff. "We fight this Architect, and if Genevieve and her brother and Utha want to try and stop us, then we fight them, too."

"No." Kell said the word with enough force that Fiona turned and stared at him with wide eyes. Maric wondered, too. The hunter looked down the stairs toward the cavern with all the darkspawn ahead of them, his face grim determination. His hand tightened on the grip of the flail on his belt until his knuckles turned white.

"You need to get warning to the surface. The Grey Wardens need to know that something has changed among the darkspawn. They need to hear it from a witness, someone who can tell them about this Architect and its plans."

Fiona looked confused. "But-"

The hunter reached into his vest and pulled out the bright glowstone from their cell, its orange radiance filling the hallway instantly. He put it around his neck. "I will draw the darkspawn away. My senses are good enough that I can tell where they are, and evade them at least for a time." He turned and met Fiona's gaze, his pale eyes hard. "Time enough for you."

The elf looked alarmed now, and she looked to Maric and Duncan for support. Duncan looked similarly alarmed, but Maric knew the man's tone. He had heard Loghain using exactly that voice, when he spoke of something terrible that needed to be done without question. Worse, Maric found he couldn't argue.

"Kell, you can't!" she protested.

"I should have fought harder to turn us around while we had the chance. I should have known better." Kell crouched down in front of Hafter, rubbing the hound's head gravely. Hafter stared back at him with wide, confused eyes. He knew something was amiss. "Take him with you," the hunter said, his voice raw with sudden emotion. "He has survived a long journey and many battles. I would like him to have a chance."

Patting the dog one last time, he stood and gruffly nodded to Duncan. "I am leaving it to you to lead King Maric out. Fiona will help you. I know you can do this."

The lad could only nod, dumbfounded.

Kell turned to Maric and offered his hand. "I am sorry it came to this, Your Majesty. You are a fine warrior, for a lowlander king." The last was offered with a wry grin, as if it were a personal joke.

Maric grinned sadly back at the man and shook his hand.

"Maker watch over you, Kell."

The hunter turned and began heading down the stairs without another word. He drew his flail from his belt, the short chain rattling as its spiked head unfurled at his side. Already Maric could hear the stirring of the creatures in the darkness beyond. There was a whisper in the air, a humming that was slowly building all around them. They knew. They knew and they were coming.

Fiona lunged to grab Hafter's collar to restrain him, but the hound was too quick for her. It bounded down toward Kell, letting out an angry woof. The hunter turned around, regarding the hound with obvious displeasure. "No," he commanded, pointing back toward Fiona and the others. "Hafter, go with them!"

The hound hung his head low, folding his ears back in confusion. Hafter was an intelligent dog, but he was still a dog. Kell glared down at the animal, growing more furious by the second."I said go!"he shouted.

"Come here, Hafter!" Fiona urged him.

Mortified that he had done something to offend his master, Hafter prostrated himself at Kell's feet, nuzzling his nose in at the hunter's boots and whining plaintively. Kell angrily grabbed the dog's collar and hauled him up, physically turning him around and shoving him back up the stairs. "Go! Now! You go with them!"

Still Hafter wouldn't go to Fiona, and quickly darted back to Kell, whining in agitation. Kell reeled back, tormented, the large hound whining at his feet like a lost puppy. Without warning, Kell stepped forward and kicked the hound in the side with a loud shout. "Obey me!" he roared.

The kick was hard, and though Hafter had stood up to far worse - he was a warhound built of little more than fur and muscle, after all- still the hound collapsed with a terrified yelp that echoed throughout the passage. Fiona covered her mouth in horror and Maric was speechless. Kell looked toward them, anguished and pleading with his eyes for help. He stared down at the dog trembling in fear at his feet and burst into tears.

"Oh, Hafter, I'm so sorry," he said, his voice cracking with grief. He knelt down and took the dog's head into his arms, patting his fur vigorously. Hafter looked up at him with his large brown eyes and uncertainly wagged his tail. Kell attempted a reassuring smile through his tears. "I'm so sorry, my old friend," he whispered. "Can you ever forgive me?"The hound's ears slowly perked up and his tail thumped against the stairs.There was no need even to ask.

The sounds of the darkspawn were coming closer, and Maric could hear movement in the cavern at the foot of the stairs. Duncan exchanged a worried look with him. They were almost out of time.

Kell stood, his face wet with tears, and Hafter jumped to his feet with him. The man gazed down sadly at his hound and tightened his grip on his flail."What do you say, my boy?" he asked. "Are you ready for one last battle? Just you and me?" The hound bounded in place, overjoyed that his master was taking him along after all, barking excitedly in anticipation.

The hunter glanced toward the others up the stairs and nodded solemnly. "Give me one minute," he stated firmly. His pale eyes met with Maric's and his meaning was clear: no more, no less.

Without further good-byes, he turned and sped toward the cavern, Hafter bounding after him. Spinning the flail's head, he roared a war cry and burst into the shadows. Hafter joined him with a loud howl. The effect on the darkspawn there was instantaneous. Like fire touching water, Maric heard angry hissing and a massive commotion as the creatures moved to attack.

Kell was too fast for them, however. He and Hafter raced to the right, disappearing into darkness and leading the darkspawn off. The last that Maric saw of them was the rapidly dwindling orange glow of the amulet.

"He's gone," Duncan breathed in amazement.

Maric nodded. "Let's not waste the chance he's given us."

They waited an excruciating minute as the sounds of pursuit in the passages behind them increased. Thankfully the chamber ahead grew quieter. Kell had clearly managed to lead them away, at least for the moment. Finally, when Maric could stand it no more, he drew his longsword and began running down the stairs. Fiona and Duncan didn't hesitate, and were right on his heels.

Together they raced out of the dwarven ruins and back into the Deep Roads. Maric was unsure just how many hours the three of them spent fleeing. Duncan took the lead almost immediately once they got out of the cavern, racing ahead and urging them to greater exertions.

The passages sped by almost without notice, blurry shadows lit by Fiona's white staff. Duncan told them to hide when he sensed darkspawn coming too close, and three times they had been forced to attack small groups of passing darkspawn when it became obvious that the shadowy alcoves and crumbled statues just weren't going to be enough to keep them out of sight.

Each time that happened, they were forced to respond to a renewed frenzy of darkspawn activity as the creatures zeroed in on their whereabouts. Each time they were able to narrowly lose their pursuers.

Eventually, the lad stopped them and looked up at the ceiling of the passage they were in. Maric looked up, too, but it didn't look much different than the ceilings they had passed previously, all stone support beams - many of which had crumbled, leading him to wonder just how long it would be before the Deep Roads collapsed entirely. Perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad thing if it happened.

"We're closer to the surface. I think we're going up," Duncan muttered.

Fiona arched a brow at him. "How can you tell?"

"It's a hunch."

They paused for a time, sweat coursing down their faces as they panted in exhaustion. But eventually Duncan urged them onward. Fiona didn't complain, and Maric could only assume that meant they could sense the darkspawn closing in again. So they ran some more. Maric started to wonder if they would eventually end up at Gwaren. He knew these tunnels led out to the eastern city eventually, and that would be amusing only because he'd had the Deep Roads entrance there permanently sealed years ago.

Well, maybe amusing wasn't the right word. Unfortunate might be more appropriate.

They passed through a long, ruined hall filled with tall pillars and so much masonry fallen from the ceiling that they needed to clamber over the piles. The sounds of deep stalkers were loud there, enough to make Fiona look around in alarm when they got to the top of one of the piles.

"Are they going to come after us?" she asked nervously.

"There are only three of us now, so why not?" Maric had meant it as a joke, but his gasping for breath made that difficult. She eyed him accusingly in response but said nothing.

"If we keep moving, they won't have time to eat us," Duncan admonished them. The lad appeared to have limitless amounts of energy, and he seemed only mildly fatigued, while Fiona and Maric were stumbling along after him and almost ready to fall over. Still, they had managed to survive so far. That could quickly change, so they continued to run.

After an indeterminable amount of time spent trudging through the passages, Maric felt ready to collapse. He wasn't even paying attention to the intersections they were reaching any longer. Duncan had earlier claimed that they weren't going in circles, but Maric had no idea what his method for choosing a direction was. For all he knew, the lad could be leading them back toward the ruin. Perhaps Duncan was simply choosing whatever direction led him away from the darkspawn he sensed? That seemed logical, even if it still might not get them anywhere.

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