Chapter 27

Dorian

The infernal dripping echoed off the walls of the dungeon, driving him closer and closer to madness with each resounding plop. He would have thought that after days living down here he'd be used to it, but it only became worse as his nerves wound tighter and tighter. He was a coiled spring, ready to explode from tension.

Varania had been no help. He'd tried to make conversation with the elf, to keep himself distracted, mostly small talk, but she answered in single words and grunts. He'd have better luck prying a monologue from a darkspawn grunt.

What was taking them so long? Ellana should not have taken more than five minutes to walk to the room under the east tower and retrieve the book. Something had happened. Ellana never dilly dallied unless she found a particularly interesting herb or flower and nothing so innocuous was cultivated in this castle, it seemed. This castle grew only nightmares – red lyrium fueled nightmares. Something had happened.

"We need to do something. This waiting around is beginning to offend my delicate sensibilities." Dorian finally said, more to convince himself than Varania.

Varania's face was as cold as the stone walls around them. "We only have one chance to surprise Corvus. We go up there, we lose it."

Dorian pressed his lips together. "Better to lose the element of surprise than two of my dearest friends."

The elf shifted uncomfortably on her feet, crossing her arms before releasing a tense breath. Another few minutes passed before she spoke again. "Alright then." Her green eyes flashed toward the stairs, all the encouragement he needed to lead the way.

He pressed a hand to the belt at his side, fingering the cold steel of the dagger Varania had given him moments ago. She'd managed to sneak a few weapons in, keeping one and giving the others to himself and Ellana. He would need to rely on it more than he liked, with his own magic being so distant after whatever Corvus had done to him. He hoped they would not encounter a fight… or anyone for that matter. Maybe they could make their way straight to the room under the East Tower before anyone else noticed them.

"We should try for the book first." He paused at the top of the stairs leading out of the dungeon, turning back to Varania. "The corridors in that direction are more likely to be vacant anyway. The wing of the manor containing Corvus' room will likely have more servants milling about."

Varania nodded. "Ellana first, then."

The cold metal of the door handle seemed to bite back as he turned the knob, chilling him from his fingers all the way up his arm.

"You sure you're up to this?" Ellana pressed, noticing his hesitation.

"No. But if we choose to wait for a knight in shining armor to come and rescue us, we'll just end up as punching bags for a bunch of Red Templars."

Dorian pushed the door with a shoulder, it's hinges squealing like an angry banshee. So much for the element of surprise, he was sure everyone in this wing of the manor could hear that door open.

"And what do we do if someone questions us on the way?" Varania asked.

"Put their lights out," he responded flatly. "Then Commander Cullen can follow the trail of unconscious bodies right to us."

Varania shook her head, "And so could Corvus."

Dorian shrugged. They were out of options, so he marched down the hall, using the last of their two advantages, speed and surprise. The first two corridors were completely deserted, but when they rounded the corner into the third hallway, he nearly upended a servant girl carrying a tray of shiny ceramic tea cups. One of the cups shattered against the marble tile floor and she stepped back, eyes as wide as the saucers she carried on her tray.

"Oh," she cried. "Oh, the mistress will be –" her voice trailed off as she bent to retrieve the ceramic shards littering the hallway.

The servant looked up, placing another sliver of ceramic into her palm, but before she could ask the question Dorian knew she was forming, he nodded to Varania.

The red-haired mage dropped her shoulders in resignation and nodded back, closing her eyes as her magic swirled in the air around them. In an instant, the servant slumped to the floor. At least this way she wouldn't run immediately to the servant's quarters and sound the alert. But there would be nothing to stop more servants from coming upon her and doing the same.

Dorian ran.

Another left and they were rounding the final hallway to the East Tower, the pristine tile in the main wing giving way to gray stone slabs of the East wing. The ancient door below the tower was unmistakable at the end of the hall, especially since it hung open letting red light from within spill out into the corridor. Dorian could only imagine what horrors caused the oppressive glow, but even from here, he could feel the burden of the red lyrium. Varania's brow creased, she was feeling it too.

As they drew closer, the bodies of two templars came into view, sprawled on the stone, one in a thick puddle of crimson. Cold dread crept over Dorian's skin like tiny, icy spider-legs. But they couldn't leave without Ellana and as they neared the door, the dull murmur of far-away voices became more distinct.

"I don't know how you managed to drip your poison into his mind again, but believe me, your vile lies have been cleansed, False Herald." Dorian could not mistake the sickeningly-sweet lilt of the man's voice. It was Corvus.

He waved Varania closer, taking care to make sure he was at his side near the door. If he could hear their voices, he might have an idea about where they were in the room, how many there were, and create some kind of plan to overcome them. Varania may even be able to use her magic before Corvus had a chance to fight back.

A long moment passed in silence and Dorian heard only the drum beat of his own heart.

"Cullen, don't do this." The despair in Ellana's voice nearly caused him to rush through the door alone. "You have to remember."

"Oh but he does," Corvus said. "He understands your traitorous lies."

No other voices. Could he be so lucky? Had Ellana already taken care of the rest of the templars?

Dorian leaned in close to Varania, whispering into her ear. "I think it's just Corvus, Cullen, and Ellana. Can you grab onto Corvus' mind? Stop him from casting?"

Varania closed her eyes in concentration, then her green eyes darted up to his and she nodded.

"Good, I will try to free Ellana and deal with Cullen. Just don't drop your hold on Corvus."

Her eyebrows lowered as she let loose a final breath. Dorian attempted to harness the very little mana he had left before he swung open the door and charged straight for the back of Cullen's head with the hilt of his dagger. He meant to knock him out, just long enough to get control of the situation.

Corvus barked a warning before Dorian made contact and Cullen whirled around, catching Dorian's knife arm in a vice-like grip. He tried a spell, but he had so little mana, it was like scooping water from a dried up well and the battle was a short one. Hand to hand combat had never been his cup of tea, and in one motion, Cullen twisted his arm and brought it behind his back, effectively removing his knife and with it, Dorian himself from the battle.

Varania hadn't fared any better. She'd managed to hold Corvus' spells back for several seconds before Cullen sent a powerful silencing spell at her and the mage was thrown against the wall. It looked less like a spell and more like she'd been scooped up by a giant's hand and tossed aside. The sickening slap of her flesh against the stone made his stomach churn.

He could only curse his own stupidity. He had sorely underestimated the power of a Red Templar's silence spell.

Ellana's face was an unsavory shade of green and judging by the way her shoulders drooped, he guessed she'd been silenced by Cullen recently too. She'd also been unarmed and her hands were tied. Despite her situation, she made a last-ditch effort, charging Corvus with a shoulder aimed at his chest.

Before she made contact, Ellana crashed into an invisible wall, the only physical sign of its existence was the subtle arc of bending light where it stood. Corvus stood arm extended, palm flat before dropping his arms and letting the wall disappear. The side of his lip twitched into a smirk and at that instant he knew. He had won.

"Well isn't this nice?" He looked to Cullen, his voice taking on the air of a dinner party host instead of that of a dark mage with the power to control a templar army. "We're all together now. So glad you could join us," he said, offering Dorian a half-bow.

"Wouldn't miss it for anything," Dorian managed, though his throat was drier than a sand dune in the Hissing Wastes.

Cullen dragged him to a stone table in the center of the room, stooping to retrieve a set of manacles that dangled below and fastened them around his arms. Dorian told his body to fight, but the message seemed to be lost, stifled under the weight of the red lyrium. It was a palpable thing, thick in the air, making an easy fight one that they simply could not win. The red lyrium was an army itself.

When Cullen turned to deal with Ellana, now crawling to her feet, Dorian gave the manacles a shake, tugging his hands and trying to wriggle them through the rings. But the rusted metal was tight, leaving little hope of squeezing his hands through. He could only watch as Cullen handled Ellana with one arm, heaving the woman he loved to her feet and forcing her to kneel before Corvus who smiled.

Then a shadow crossed Corvus' features, warping his grin into a repulsive, twisted thing and he waved a hand. "Strap her down. We will end this right now."