David Gaider - The Calling

The Circle, sadly, had been little better. At least the nightmares grew fainter in time. She thought that she had finally put them behind her, but apparently it was not so. It felt like an old wound had been ripped open inside her heart, leaving it raw and bleeding.

They were just outside a field full of so much rubble and debris that it was impossible to tell what it all might have once been, when Kell picked up Bregan’s trail again. The hunter held his hand up to call for a halt and knelt, running his fingers along the ground and closing his pale eyes. He lifted his head slightly as if catching a scent, and softly said, “I found him.”

Everyone knew who he meant. The effect on Genevieve was electrifying. She almost pounced on Kell, demanding that he follow the trail immediately. He stared up at her, and for a moment Fiona thought he might challenge her authority once again. He didn’t, however, merely nodded and stood to lead the way.

Genevieve almost vibrated, she was so intent. The change in her from the surly and silent commander that had left the ruin was marked. Was she still as keen as before on finding her brother? It seemed so, though Fiona felt like she had to remind herself why they were even down here. They had only been in the Deep Roads, what? A couple of days? It felt like forever.

Duncan walked beside her for a time. She looked over at him and he smiled sadly. He meant it to be reassuring, she assumed, but it just reminded her that his heart had been broken in the Fade as well. She didn’t know exactly what he had gone through, but she knew enough. He looked older.

“Why did the demon want you?” he asked her suddenly.

“Because they become very powerful when they possess a mage.”

“It seemed plenty powerful already.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It had sustained itself in our world so long, perhaps it had only a little power left. Perhaps a mage is all it ever wanted. It’s in the nature of demons to covet what they can’t have.”

He nodded, chewing on the idea.

“Thank you for coming for me,” she whispered to him.

“You shouldn’t be thanking me,” he said. She followed his nod and saw he meant Maric, who walked not far from them, too lost in thought to realize he was being discussed.

“Why? Because he killed the demon?”

“He’s the one who broke out of his dream first, and came to get the rest of us. He insisted we had to save you. Without him, I don’t know that I would have left my … I would still be there. For certain.”

Duncan looked away, frowning to hide his pain. What sort of dream would hold a boy who had grown up alone in the slums of Val Royeaux, she wondered? She didn’t want to ask, and instead clutched his hand and gave it a warm squeeze.

They reached the massive doorway that led out of Ortan thaig after another hour of picking their way through piles of stone and masonry. Maric indicated that he had gone through this door before, and that his group had first encountered darkspawn several hours afterwards. Fiona exchanged glances with Kell and Utha, although they said nothing. They sensed no darkspawn nearby. It seemed odd, after how the creatures had hounded them so far. Perhaps when the darkspawn picked up their trail again, she would be wishing for just this sort of oddness.

The great iron door had clearly been bashed in long ago by some powerful force. Ogres, she assumed. The great blue brutes were the work horses of the darkspawn when they appeared, and whenever the attack on this thaig happened they would have almost certainly numbered among the horde. Still, it was impressive. She could almost picture the creatures swarming in through the breach, washing over what ever dwarven defenses remained like a dark tide.

Hafter sniffed among the rubble in front of the door, making anxious sounds. Then he lifted his head and looked into the shadows beyond the door and whined. Fiona was inclined to agree.

Beyond, they were back in the Deep Roads. It did not take long for them to start seeing the familiar signs of darkspawn corruption, so thick here they could not really make out the stone any longer. It was a sickening layer of skin that covered everything, and it felt unnerving, squishing as it did beneath her boots. The idea of touching it with bare skin made her shudder in revulsion.

There was also a new sound. Perhaps sound was not the right word, as she felt it far more than she heard it. She had been feeling it for some time, she realized. Sometimes it seemed like something whispering her name, or at least she thought it was her name. At other times it was little more than the softest, most alluring notes of a chorus carried to her from afar.

It had something to do with the darkspawn. That was all she knew.

They traveled for a long time. She wasn’t even certain just how long, and kept her mind focused on maintaining the light from her staff and putting one foot in front of the other. Her mind cried out for rest, but she nearly felt glad for the fatigue. She suspected they all did, as their pace made it almost impossible to think.

Kell remained in front, his faithful hound keeping step, and he stopped every now and again to kneel and furrow his brow as he studied the invisible trail. How he could pinpoint a single Grey Warden amid all this darkspawn filth, Fiona couldn’t begin to guess. But he did it. He turned down several passages and kept them going, until finally they reached another section where the dwarven masonry had collapsed, opening up into the inky black caverns below … the true home of the darkspawn, underneath the Deep Roads.

“There.” He pointed.

Genevieve stepped forward, enough to gaze into the breach and see that the debris leading into the cavern below was indeed scalable. “Then we go there,” she stated unequivocally.

“No, we do not. First we talk.”

She brushed by him. “I am not interested in talking.” She marched on ahead, scrambling down the rubble into the shadows below. Fiona went to follow, but Kell gave her a direct look and shook his head no. She paused, and so did the others behind her.

They waited. Genevieve could only go down so far before the lack of light prevented her from going farther. Fiona heard her eventually stop and sigh in exasperation. She turned around and marched back up the rubble until she stood in front of them. Her face filled with silent fury, she crossed her arms and glared at Kell. Hafter growled menacingly beside him, but he waved a hand to shush the hound and he complied.

“Is this to be another challenge, then?” she demanded.

The hunter studied her for a moment with his pale eyes, his expression reflective. The man was inscrutable at the best of times, and right now Fiona had no idea whether he was angry or simply concerned. “Genevieve, we have followed you,” he said slowly, “as you rushed heedlessly into one danger after another. We followed you into the palace. This needs to change.”

“We are not turning back.”

“I am not speaking of turning back.”

“The palace was not my fault,” she insisted. “We were led there by an illusion, one that tricked you just as it did me.”

“We were led there by your obsession and your lack of caution.” He was picking his words warily. Duncan glanced at Fiona with alarm, although he said nothing. She had to agree. This wasn’t likely to go anywhere good.

“And?” Genevieve demanded. “What do you propose, then? I am your commander. Are you attempting to replace me?”

“I have no interest in leadership,” Kell replied. “But I am the senior Grey Warden here after you. It falls on me to ensure this task of ours is performed to our best ability, and that requires caution you refuse to provide.”

“Maker take your caution!” she snapped angrily.