David Gaider - The Calling

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.”

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 what ever reason, the ruin seemed to have only a few of the creatures in it, passing through on their way to doing what ever 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.