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  "Yes, I have one," Lana reached into her vest pocket and unearthed her own death warrant. The picture was a terrible likeness and unnecessary, everyone in the order knew her. "If the wardens want me, then we let them have me. Use me as bait."

  "Over my dead body," Cullen stormed. Every eye whipped up to him, but he didn't crack from the pressure or blush himself to death. Another fire burned across his face as he sliced his hand through the air to punctuate his words, "You're our only connection to the wardens in Orlais. If we stretch your neck on the line, then we lose that insider information. I will not allow it."

  "Is that your decision to make, Commander?" the Inquisitor said in his soft tone.

  The sneer didn't break from Cullen's face, but his eyes danced over the Inquisitor. "I gave my opinion, that is all."

  "I do not relish the idea of placing you in harm's way, but I could seed a few hints amongst known warden contacts as to your location." Leliana leaned over the map and prodded through Orlais, "The question is where to set the trap."

  Lana plucked up the pick in Redcliffe and twisted it around in her hands. It was a long shot, but it might work. "I have another idea. We were too few in the Ferelden order for many years, so we relied upon dead drops to pass messages, ask for supplies, aid, little things. I could light one of them up and arrange a meeting here." She stabbed the pick down just outside of Teagan's village near a lake she once loved.

  "An interesting idea," the Inquisitor said.

  "This assumes anyone is left to answer," Leliana said, "but it could work. And if not, there are still my spies."

  Lana frowned at the idea, more than likely word of her being with the Inquisition would spread off the mountain faster than any of Leliana's spies could spin the lie. But if this beacon worked, then it wouldn't be a random Orlesian warden she'd get answers from. It'd be one of her own.

  "Inquisitor?" Lana asked, turning to him, "What do you say?"

  "If you believe this beacon will work, then we may was well try it first. I will be traveling through the Emerald Graves to answer Fairbanks' inquiry, but if you require any assistance..."

  "I can lend a hand," Cullen interrupted.

  "That works as well," the Inquisitor barely even blinked from the commander throwing himself forward.

  Lana nodded. If this worked, she'd finally have her answers. She'd finally know what happened to all her wardens, the ones she recruited, trained, commanded, befriended. Vigil's Keep provided no clue to their disappearance, but this might. Lana flicked the pin with her finger and said, "I need to get to Redcliffe.

  Chapter Four

  Failure

  It stung less than she expected. Spring's thaw muddied the ground making traveling unpleasant; but the warm air, chirping birds, and fresh energy made up for the water weeping into her boots. She wrapped her hands around herself, a chill off the lake curling through her thin cloak. It wasn't really a lake, not an official one, and not on any maps. More an overgrown pond with lofty ambitions, at least that was how Alistair described it to her. They'd slipped away from the campsite and especially away from the others so he could show it to her. It was one of his favorite spots when he was a boy. He'd even tried to carve his name into a tree beside the watery edge. Her fingers drifted across the ALIS embedded in the wood. He wasn't good at finishing things.

  Lana heard the sound of armored boots squelching in mud and metal clanging together keep the wearer upright. She turned from her vantage point to gaze off the cliff at the sound's source below. It was only a day and half before she heard an answer back from one of the beacons. One of her wardens accepted her meeting and they'd set the date for as soon as possible. Using this lake was her way of ensuring it was one of hers, very few knew its exact location. She said she'd go alone, but...Lana sighed, watching the blonde head bobbing along the marshland that was once forest. Someone wouldn't let her.

  "I'm up here," she called to Cullen. His head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes against the afternoon sun. The watery sounds, like custard dropped in hose and slapped against the wall, followed his footsteps as he struggled up the grassy hill. The soldiers followed close on his heels, but none seemed particularly happy about Lana's spot.

  As he reached the rocky edge his fingers flattened against the nearly unscalable cliff. Lana dropped to her knees and extended a hand to him. He gripped tight despite the wet gloves and together she hauled him up the crystal surface of the lake. The area was hidden atop a cliff that seemed insurmountable unless you knew about the secret path. Even then, one needed a bit of climbing equipment or a good jump to get up there. Alistair had wedged some of Zevran's old daggers into the rock for leverage when he first showed her. The assassin took the news rather well while twisting around his bent blades. He only hid four frogs in Alistair's bedroll as retribution. This time Lana used magic to assist her.

  "I thought clandestine meetings were held in the depths of night," Cullen grumbled as he squinted at her through the burning rays. He'd tossed off that furry surcoat of his, but the piles of metal did no one any favors in the rising heat.

  "Not enjoying the return of summer?" Lana asked, grateful to be in her messenger outfit. The linen against her arms breathed better than any leather would.

  "Summer is fine, but to come from the mountain into this warmth takes a bit of adjusting."

  Lana extended her hand towards the lake, "There's water to cool off. Just strip off your armor and dive in." The moment the words left her, she frowned at her impetuous tongue. Sweet Andraste, no. Do not start this again!

  "That, uh..." He blinked against the offending light of the sun and glared at the still surface of the pond. "I am good, fine, it's not an issue." Shaking his head, he turned his wrath upon the two soldiers still below. "Cobby! Nollins!" That must have been the two soldiers' names as they both whipped their heads up at the commander and saluted. "No, don't bloody waste time...get up here."

  "Right, Ser. We, uh, we're not sure how precisely," one of the soldiers called out.

  Cullen's dumbstruck face was priceless. "You climb," he sneered down at them and then shook his head at Lana.

  "You brought them," she whispered to him.

  "Do not remind me," he added back. His breath warmed her cheek he spoke close so the soldiers wouldn't overhear the confidence their commander failed to have in them.

  "We, well, see, Ser, if you be begging my pardon, it's just that..."

  "What is it?" Cullen shouted at the stumbling pair.

  The other spoke up, her voice gruff, "We don't have any rope."

  "You don't need any," Cullen threw his arms up and tipped his head back to the sky. Lana saw him whispering what looked like either a part of the chant or a personal mantra that he couldn't murder every idiotic soldier under his command and hope to have an army remaining.

  She took pity on him and shouted down to the soldiers, "There's a cave back behind the trees. If you follow it, it should lead to an incline up here."

  Cullen's chin slipped down and he stared at her, "There is?"

  "There wasn't before, I created it," she said then turned her eyes away from him, "I'm not very good at climbing either."

  "Ah, Ser?" the gruff soldier called, her fingers splayed out against the rock to peer up at them. They weren't prepared to follow the strange new warden's orders.

  "Yes, yes, go find the cave. And get up here," Cullen waved his hand dismissing the pair. They scattered off and Lana mentally calculated the chances of their finding her dissolved rock entrance versus the bear's den a few kilometers further in. She gave them 50:50 to be kind.

  "You're without your staff," Cullen pointed out, gesturing to her empty hands.

  She flexed her callused fingers and nodded, "I stopped carrying one outside of battle when the rebellion bubbled over into the streets. It drew more attention than I'd like from concerned citizens. So near Redcliffe I thought...I doubt I'll need it. This is a simple meeting, nothing more."

  Cullen nodded but didn't look entirely c
onvinced. It wasn't as if she needed a staff to defend herself. "How long until your warden friends show?"

  She shook her head, "I have no idea. Our system isn't that sophisticated." Colored light and a series of numbered explosions didn't lend one the ability to burn sonnets across the skies of Ferelden. It was the best they could whip up. It might be crude, but it worked.

  "Right," Cullen sighed. His fingers knotted around the pommel of his sword but he seemed to shake off the stress of command. Shoulders slipping down out of the overburdened hunch, a calm replaced his eternal frown. Even his worry lines faded away. "Beautiful place," he remarked. Lana flinched and glanced towards the cliff's edge. She'd had all of Ferelden to use and she chose here. Why? The excuse that it was secret only held up to those who didn't know her. She was aware of another twenty places better hidden and easier to fortify without soldiers stumbling through possible bear caves to find it. But she picked this lake, as beautifully painful as it was. The memories weren't as haunting as they'd once been, the old scar upon her heart nearly healed shut, but if she closed her eyes she could still smell the scent of a rose on the wind.

  "Lana?"

  She whipped her head around to try to dislodge the past and turned to him. They'd remained friendly but distant in the past days, only seeing each other for map room meetings and the occasional dinner. Hawke spoke more with the Commander than Lana did but that was true for everyone with Hawke. Her cousin could charm a dragon, then kill it. Lana kept her relationship with Cullen professional and at an arm's length, bundling away all memories of those few days they shared in the deep roads. But now her legs melted like sugar in rain from the way he looked at her. The tenderness in those brown eyes flipped her heart upside down and she bit down a gasp to turn it into an, "Um huh?"

  "This calling of yours..." he began and Lana threw her arms up. She was so tired of talking about it with Leliana, with the polite but serious Inquisitor, even Hawke tossed a few lines in every now and again. Yes, the Calling, it will kill her. What makes her a grey warden is also what will end her, whether she likes it or not. It's not as if she could change it now! Cullen touched her arm and she turned from her tantrum to face him. "You said it's fatal."

  "It is, sort of. Might as well be anyway," she said. Her eyes danced away from his to bore into the pond. A frog rose to the surface, bubbles blowing from its nose as it released a held breath.

  His finger circled against the fabric of her shirt where he held her, lightly tracing her arm in comfort. "Does it cause you any pain?"

  "No," Lana smiled bittersweetly, "not anymore. The joining was...not much fun, but slipping into the calling is more like giving into exhaustion at the end of the day. The long sleep, I guess."

  "Then why did you collapse in the war room?" His eyes wandered over her face, from her eyes down to her lips and back. She wondered if it was some trick to tell if she was lying or if he...no, it was silly to contemplate.

  "I'm surprised," Lana said, shaking her head. "You're the first to ask that. I thought for sure Leliana would inquire, but maybe she sussed it out on her own. Is there anything, any secret, she doesn't know now?"

  "I try to not think about it," Cullen admitted and Lana smirked.

  "It was poison, leftover in my system from the warden attack on the way to Orlais."

  "Poison? Maker! Lana, do you need a healer?"

  "I am a healer," she said lifting her free arm and drawing forth the power of the spirits. "It's not a big deal. I could keep it at bay and work it out of my system on my own as long as I was concentrating or not exhausted." Or in near shock at seeing an old lover standing before her.

  Cullen leaned closer to her, his personal musk overpowering the floral scent in the air. She remembered it well, almost earthy and comforting, like a warm blanket on a wintery evening. She wore it upon her skin for a few days after they left the deep roads. "You could have told one of us, any of us."

  Lana shrugged. "It was my fault. I'd been slacking off on taking doses to build up my resistance. It'd been a few years since anyone tried to actively kill me outside of combat and I grew sloppy. I..." Her words faded from the shock puckering up his lips. It drew her attention to the scar bisecting up his mouth and through the patch of stubble that would never make a mustache. "I can handle it, it's nearly out of my system."

  "Nearly?" Cullen shook his head and sighed. He still held her arm tight in his own hand and didn't seem about to let go, "You don't have to do everything alone."

  "I..." It wasn't stubbornness that held her tongue but an excessive gathering of facts. Every time, every moment she let her guard down and tried to bring someone into her life it backfired spectacularly. And yet she kept trying, kept hoping that one day it'd all work out for her. She'd lived upon the dream of hope for so long she woke one day to find her soul malnourished. "I'll be fine," she cut off his concern and dropped her arm. Cullen's fingers opened to release her and he reached back for his sword. "I've been through worse." She turned away to gaze at what should be her little cave exit and considered the conversation closed.

  A faint breeze slicked back the sweat percolating on her brow, the crisp air smelling of snow. Perhaps winter wasn't quite finished after all. Cullen sighed beside her, his nails prodding at the leather pommel, "You say that as if it's a badge of honor."

  She swallowed and turned to him. His eyes focused a thousand miles away down into the depths of the earth. Lana pinched her eyebrows together in thought and in a stripped voice said, "I say it because it's true." Her fingers drifted across his arm, smudging up the polished armor. A palm print of hers fogged up his vambrace. Cullen turned and reached for her fingers.

  Boots squelching through muddy waters drew both their attention. Lana slid away while attempting to tap into the fade energy that percolated through this place greater than much of Ferelden. Okay, she had one good reason to use the pond. Cullen rolled his fingers around the grip of his sword and squared his shoulders back. Three figures pushed aside the vines dangling over the cave entrance. Two wore the blue and silver armor of the grey wardens, the griffin still prominent upon their chests, but the last was dressed in black and green splint mail with a heartwood bow strapped across his back.

  Lana splashed through the overrun pond towards him before he even saw her, "Nathaniel?" Steel eyes snapped up at her, and then that dour frown lifted in a smile.

  "Warden Commander," he said tipping his head to the side. He still wore those same braids in his dark hair, though grey strands threaded through them. Mud and wear sundered his armor, and his face was marked with grit from the road. But the stern faded to the best smile Nathaniel could ever manage as he gazed at her, "I hoped it was you activating the old beacons."

  Lana squelched through the mud towards him. "Nathaniel, I..." she paused before him and held out her hand. He caught it and gripped her along the forearm, his fingers twisting it in the friendly greeting of checking for weapons. She did the same. Then he pulled her close into a half hug, his battered armor crushing against her chest. As she broke away, she glanced at the two wardens behind him but couldn't place the faces. They were both human -- one male, one female -- and both well armed. Not unheard of for wardens, but...Lana shook her head. This was Nathaniel here, it was better than she could have hoped for a random roll of the die. She turned back to her old friend, her voice lowering to her command presence, "What happened to the wardens? I returned to Vigil's Keep and there was no sign of any remaining. No one knew where you went or why. As if you all just vanished."

  Nathaniel's eyes glanced over at Cullen and Lana followed suit. The commander looked as relaxed as a razorback, but he hadn't drawn his blade yet. "I am afraid in your absence you missed out on a game changer, Commander. The greatest discovery the wardens have made in an age. Perhaps since the order even began."

  Lana glanced back at Cullen, then to Nathaniel. A warning crawled up her back, but she kept her hands flat against her thighs. "A discovery? Of what? Is this about a talking darkspawn?"
/>   "No, no, so much better than that," Nathaniel shook his head, and then it struck Lana. He hadn't stopped smiling, the grin plastered on since he spotted her. That was not the Nathaniel Howe she knew, the Nathaniel she's conscripted all those years ago. A man who could glower through his own birthday party. A few (Oghren) used to float the theory that even sex couldn't knock off that Howe frown. She never encouraged the joking rumors despite suspecting they were probably accurate.

  Lana began to slide back through the mud on the balls of her feet, but Nathaniel jerked forward. It appeared innocuous enough, but it stopped her. She watched his body, but he looked relaxed and unconcerned, his fingers caressing his bow while the other dangled at his side. The other wardens still stood silent behind him. "Explain it to me, why you would leave everything. Tell me what it is. What you've found, whatever it is you're working towards. Please, Nathaniel. We've been through too much."

  He bobbed his head, a pang hollowing his cheeks as it crossed him face. "You...you're not supposed to be here. You weren't meant for this, for them." Nathaniel glanced back at the commander of the Inquisition glowering back. "The Western Approach. That's where everyone's gathering, everyone who could be of use. And the use someone like you could be..." Nathaniel's hand lashed out to grab onto hers as if mocking their earlier greeting. His fingers dug into her forearm, the chewed nails ripping into her skin and locking tight so she couldn't escape his grip.

  "What are you doing?" Lana asked while trying to pull away. She tried to keep calm, needed to be calm to get through whatever fog had him. If she just had some time, she knew she could break it. Behind her she heard the sound of steel drawing from the scabbard. No, that wasn't how this was going to go. There had to be a way. These were her people.