by David Gaider
The red- headed mage frowned. "Your dream?"
"Denerim. This is the capital of Ferelden, and we are in the middle of the Blight. This is the battle when the Archdemon was slain and the darkspawn at last routed."
"But that's a good thing."
The old woman's face sagged, and for a moment she looked tired. "Look around you, Adrian. This was a nightmare. The victory came at a terrible cost, and has haunted me ever since."
They did look around, at the burning buildings and the terrible blackness roiling in the sky. The screams made Cole shiver. He didn't want to stay in this square, standing among so many dead bodies. If this was a dream, why couldn't they just wake up?
The walking statue lumbered over, its stony face twisted into a scowl. "The old mage has brought me into the Fade again. I didn't like it the first time."
Old Woman nodded, sighing. "It wasn't intentional, Shale. It seems everyone was drawn through the Veil, rather than just me."
The statue turned its glowing eyes toward Cole. "And this one, as well? Shall I squish it now? It looks unpleasant."
Rhys suddenly snapped out of his stupor. "No!" he cried. "Leave him alone!"
"We don't know what he is," Knight- Captain said. "T ink about it, Rhys. Nobody can see him, but suddenly he's in the Fade? Right where you are? Don't be a fool."
"He's not a demon."
"I don't know," Old Woman said uncertainly. She stepped toward Cole, and he backed away. He still held his dagger, and now he began to wonder if he would need to use it. "I don't sense he's a spirit, but what does that mean here in the Fade? I didn't sense those creatures chasing him as spirits either, but they certainly weren't darkspawn."
A moment of tense silence passed, and Cole looked at Rhys. "Are . . . you still angry at me? I only wanted to protect you."
"You can't protect me, Cole. That's why I told you to go back."
"I couldn't."
Red Hair glared at Cole angrily, though as near as he could tell she always looked angry. Her voice penetrated like knives. "Why couldn't you?" she demanded. "Do you have any idea what you've done to Rhys?"
He backed up another step, but she pursued him. "I didn't mean to do anything to Rhys," he said quietly.
"And what about the mages you murdered? Did you not mean that?"
Cole felt as if a hole were opening underneath him. How could he explain it to her, when he was barely able to explain it to Rhys? She didn't know those people he'd killed, the tormented ones in their cages, and she didn't know him.
"This is the murderer." It was Knight- Captain who said that. She did not look surprised, but instead disappointed. She glared at Rhys. "You didn't mention that."
"I . . . thought you overheard."
"You should have told me yourself."
"So you could do what?" he demanded harshly. "You barely believed me as it was. You would have thought I was lying to you, in order to look innocent."
She stared at him, and then slowly nodded. "You're right." Then she turned toward Cole and drew her sword. "Demon or murderer, there is only one solution."
Cole jumped back, crouching low. He didn't want to run off into the city again, where those pale creatures were surely lurking, but he also didn't want to leave Rhys after spending so long searching for him. Knight- Captain was pretty, and seemed nice for a templar, but he knew why she was here. He wouldn't let her do that, any more than he'd let her kill him.
"Stop!" Rhys ran up and grabbed Knight- Captain by the shoulder.
Red Hair shook her head at him. "Don't, Rhys. How else do you think this is going to end? Why would you defend a murderer?"
Rhys seemed unable to answer. From his look of uncertainty, the way he glanced at Cole with that lingering question in his eyes, it was clear what his answer would be. Cole desperately wanted to defend himself, to prove to Rhys that he was still the man's friend, but he didn't know how. Nothing had ever felt so painful as watching Rhys slowly release Knight- Captain's shoulder now.
"I believe the matter is settled," she said, turning with a grim expression toward Cole. He prepared himself, tightening the grip on his dagger.
And then the world shook.
A deafening roar sounded from the sky, so loud it beat down upon Cole like a physical force. It drowned out everything. He covered his ears and doubled over, his head threatening to explode from the pain. The sound seemed to go on forever, and only when it finally stopped did he dare to look up.
Cole had seen pictures of dragons before— there was a faded mural in the White Spire's archive, and it showed a dragon surrounded by a group of knights with great spears and nets. It seemed to struggle against its attackers, but was heavily wounded and losing the battle. Cole had always thought it looked noble, a beast wrongly hounded by men that refused to see its savage beauty.
That dragon was nothing like this one. The dragon that filled the dark sky was a behemoth, and it didn't have a body covered in smooth scales. It was all muscle and sinew, eaten away by worms that writhed just under the surface. Like someone had taken rotting flesh and constructed a dragon out of it.
"The Archdemon!" Old Woman cried in horror.
There was no time to react. The dragon descended onto the square with the force of an earthquake. Cole tried to dive out of the way, but the massive wings of the beast beat once and sent a hurricanelike wind sweeping through the square. He was lifted up, along with many of the dead soldiers, and flung through the air. He slammed against a stone wall, hard.
The world spun around him. Cole found himself on the ground, gasping for breath and wincing at the pain running through his body. He felt disoriented. There were people yelling, but he couldn't tell where they were. Somebody shouted, "Get out of the square! Quickly!" but he had no idea who.
The dragon roared again, louder this time. It was little more than a giant black mass to Cole, the smoke being sucked into the square by its beating wings almost too thick to see through. He scrambled to his feet in a panic, glad not to have lost his dagger, and looked around for Rhys.
T ere. Three barely discernable figures in robes sprinted across the far side of the square. The dragon reared up, its serpentine neck curling. It then lunged forward, belching a blast of black flame from its mouth. Cole watched in horror as the mages were engulfed, and for a moment he thought they were surely dead. Then as the smoke cleared he saw Rhys down on one knee— the man had erected a shimmering shield of magic, and that had protected them. Even so, the shield was buckling under the strain. Rhys crumpled to the ground.
Old Woman and Red Hair darted in front of him. They extended their staves, one firing a bolt of lightning and the other a blast of pure power. T under shook the square as both struck the dragon on its chest. Even though it seemed unhurt, the beast spread its wings in fury.
Then the walking statue appeared, as if out of nowhere. Cole watched as it charged the dragon, smashing both its fists into its flank. "I killed it once," the statue bellowed, "and I'll kill it again!" The blow was strong enough to stagger the beast, and it seemed like it might topple. But then it twisted around, swatting at the statue as if it were an annoying fly.
The statue hurtled like a cannonball toward one of the stone buildings near Cole. It smashed through the wall with a resounding crash, bringing the entire building down on top of it. A cloud of dust billowed out, choking Cole and forcing him to scramble for safety.
The next moments were a blur. The dragon spun around, and Cole barely saw the tail swinging toward him as he leapt aside. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Knight- Captain swinging her greatsword at one of the beast's legs. The blade cut deep into the rotted flesh, black blood spurting out. It reacted violently, spinning about once again. Knight- Captain dove out of the way just as Cole had.
Then the air erupted into lightning. He felt his flesh stirring in response to the magic, heard the sizzle of the bolts randomly striking things around him. Several came close, and Cole danced out of the way . . . only to be confronted with t
he dragon looming over him. Two baleful black eyes stared down, full of malevolence and deep as forever. Its lips curled around fangs as large as his arm, and with a contemptuous snort the gaping jaws lunged down toward him.
It seemed to happen so slowly. He saw its forked tongue, the dripping saliva, the ridges of black flesh lining the inside of its mouth. Tendrils of corruption spread across each tooth. The dragon's breath stank of decay.
Someone far off shouted his name. Almost instinctively he rolled to the side, over rubble and dead bodies, and heard the jaws snapping shut with a terrible gnashing sound right behind him. The bite would have torn him in two, he was sure of it. The dragon swung its body around, but Cole was already moving. He sprinted as fast as he could, the world around him alive with lightning flashes, but to him it felt like he was running through water.
The air shifted, and he ducked. One of the creature's hands passed right over his head, each talon curled and shiny black. He saw Knight- Captain not far in front of him, getting back to her feet. There was blood on her face, and for a single moment their eyes met. In her horrified expression he saw what was about to happen next.
Cole turned and saw the dragon inhaling.
A ball of fire struck it from behind, exploding into an inferno. Again it was unharmed, but the force of the blast was enough to distract it. Cole took the opportunity and dove underneath the beast itself.
What are you doing? A small voice in his head kept asking him that. Why don't you run? He tried to tell it to be quiet, but it wouldn't go away.
The belly of the dragon slithered just over his head. He was certain the creature would crush him, or that one of those feet moving about would rip him to shreds. He had to keep crawling, the rocks scraping against his stomach. Without thinking he stabbed upwards with his dagger, the metal ripping into the leathery flesh, and sliced as he moved. Blood spurted down on him, hot and rank.
It got a reaction. The dragon tensed and leapt up with such force that Cole was almost sucked up with it. He looked up and saw the creature rising past the cloud of lightning, black wings spread wide over the entire square. It bellowed a challenge into the sky.
Each downward thrust of its wings sent winds screaming in every direction. Rocks flew, bodies flung about, a couple of the buildings collapsed. Utter chaos. Cole gasped for breath and held on to a larger piece of crumbled masonry for dear life. He saw the grey- haired old woman tumbling past him, white staff ripped from her hands, but there was nothing he could do.
And then the dragon landed again on the far side of the square, with such devastating force the ground caved in underneath it. Cole screamed in terror as he felt himself lifting up. Before he could start tumbling toward the beast, he scrambled back. A huge crack lay between him and safe ground, rapidly getting larger and farther away.
Cole jumped. He flew through the air, arms flailing, beneath him a gap that led down into darkness. It was like the chasm that split the cold desert, filled with nothing but a cold emptiness. And then he was falling into it. Desperately he grabbed on to the far edge. His fingers found purchase, but the crumbling rock began to give way. With a burst of strength he pulled himself up and onto solid ground.
The dragon roared again. Smoke was everywhere, and his eyes stung. He heard Knight- Captain shouting, and the blast of spells. Then someone grabbed his arm.
He looked up. Rhys stood over him, his robe bloodied and badly burned.
"Cole! Get out of here! Run!"
"I'm not leaving you!"
Just then, Cole saw the dragon leap across the square toward them. It descended fast with talons extended. "Look out!" he cried. He grabbed Rhys and pulled him away, the creature landing just where he had been a moment before. The impact sent both of them tumbling.
Rhys got back to his feet, furiously turning to face the dragon. Magical energy suddenly swirled around him, so bright Cole was almost blinded. The power built until Rhys screamed with the effort, and unleashed it in a torrent.
The dragon reeled, the magic crackling along its hide and burning wherever it touched. It screeched in rage, but before it could act a giant boulder flew through the air and crashed against its head. Cole spotted the walking statue emerging from a pile of rubble. It was scowling, and began picking up more rocks and hurling them.
Then a jet of white flame struck it from behind. The red- headed mage was on top of a large rock, battered but grimly determined. The fire streamed from her staff and grew stronger and stronger.
The dragon writhed from side to side under the combined assault, unable to get its bearings as it was pummeled by rocks and blasted by spells. It let out one last defiant screech that resounded across the heavens, and leapt high up into the sky.
The draft of wind beneath it sent both Cole and Rhys stumbling and sliding toward the edge of the square. Rhys grabbed on to an outcropping of rubble, but Cole couldn't find purchase anywhere. He slammed against the ground, agony spiking through him as he rolled into one of the alleyways.
There he slid to a halt. Cole lay still, breathing raggedly as he stared up at the walls on either side of him. One of them began to fall apart. He stared in confusion, watching large cracks race up its side, not realizing the danger until a giant piece of mortar began descending toward his head. With a cry of alarm, he rolled out of the way and the rubble smashed against the ground.
The entire building was collapsing.
Cole jumped up. He turned to run back into the square, but a giant piece of the wall landed right in front of him. Then something struck his head; he didn't even see what it was. Dazed, he backed up. A chain reaction began as the building across from him also began to fall. More mortar rained down, filling the alleyway as he quickly retreated.
He reached an intersection, and stared at the ruins before him. His heart pounded in reaction. The worst appeared to be over.
Then he heard a low growl. Spinning around, he spotted one of the pale creatures at the far end of the alley. It raised its sword, glaring at Cole with an eager hunger in its dead eyes. More of the same appeared behind it.
He didn't have his dagger. Had he dropped it? "Rhys!" he called out. The terrible thunder of the earlier combat had been replaced by an uneasy silence, but there was no shout of response. For all he knew, Rhys could be dead.
He ran.
Rhys slowly picked himself off the ground. His head was spinning, and he felt completely drained. I could sleep for a week . . . except I'm technically already asleep, I suppose. It had been a long time since he'd used magic in the Fade. He forgot the sheer power it offered, and how it left him dried up and aching afterward.
The square was a ruin. A great crack split it in two, the other side almost completely caved in. Most of the buildings were gone, and now a shroud of dust hung over everything. It was eerily quiet. Even the distant screams and sounds of war seemed to have vanished. With the black clouds still roiling overhead it seemed odd, like he was trapped in stasis. A single, horrible moment belonging to a place he'd never been.
"Are you hurt?"
He looked up and saw Evangeline offering her hand. Blood splattered across her face, and she was caked in mortar dust, but somehow still managed to carry herself like a proud warrior. Also a very unhappy warrior. Her glare of displeasure was scathing. He hoped it wasn't directed at him.
"I'll live." He took her hand and stood up. Then the thought struck him: Where was everyone else? Looking around in panic, he was relieved to see a battered- looking Wynne being helped to her feet by Shale, and Adrian dusting herself off on the far side of the square . . . but Cole was nowhere to be found. The alleyway he'd slid into was now filled with rubble.
He ran toward it, panicked. "Cole!" he called. Desperately he began pulling at the rocks, realizing even as he did so that it was pointless. If Cole was under there, he was dead. If he wasn't, there was no way he was going to be able to clear a path.
Adrian walked up behind him. She looked battered and bloody, as did Wynne. The old woman's grey hair
was askew, her blue robe torn and covered in dirt. She was limping, helped along by the golem. "He is not dead," she said firmly.
"How do you know that?"
"Because I saw him run when the buildings collapsed."
"Then I have to find him."
"There isn't time. We have a mission to complete."
Evangeline strode forward, her face set into pure rage. "Your mission," she grated through her teeth, "is what has put us in this predicament. This is your doing, Enchanter, and I will not allow you to drag us heedlessly into further danger."
Wynne's eyes widened. "You will not allow me?"
"That is correct." Evangeline paused as Shale took a step toward her, looming overhead in a threatening manner. She was undeterred. "I am ending your mission. Now."
Rhys exchanged a nervous glance with Adrian, but found little sympathy there. She was no doubt as thrilled as he was to find herself in the Fade, but after the scene in the laboratory she lacked sympathy for Rhys and Evangeline both. She looked away, scowling.
Wynne drew herself straight. Despite her disheveled appearance, the imperious woman Rhys saw in the great hall made a sudden return, now bristling with anger. "You have no right to do that, Knight- Captain."
"I have every right. How many lives do you wish to put at risk, all for the sake of a man who apparently sought his fate?" She drew her sword, an act which made Shale's eyes flashed dangerously. Evangeline ignored it. "I am not prepared to share in it, nor am I prepared to allow you or anyone else here to do the same."
Wynne touched the golem's elbow, and it backed off— although it remained no less wary. "Do you believe you actually hold that sword in your hands?" she asked. "The blade may cut, but only because you believe it will. Templars are masters in many places, but not here in the Fade." Her smile was grim. "Demons are drawn to us because we shape reality to our will. That is our curse, but here . . . here it is our power."
Evangeline frowned, and slowly she lowered her sword. She did not step away. "I cannot force you, it's true. Is it your intention, then, to put us in further danger?"
