Asunder (14 page)

            There was a smattering of applause, most prominently from Adrian and the other Libertarians, but he heard opposition as well. Several voices rose in complaint, while others argued; the general level of noise began to escalate. Wynne raised a hand, and slowly the talk quieted.

            "I do have freedoms," she admitted. "They were earned through years of ser vice, and as a reward for my part in defeating the darkspawn. I worked to gain the trust of the Chantry; I did not expect it to fall into my lap."

            "And what have we done to be denied that trust, those who have spent our entire lives doing everything asked of us? Why are we all held accountable for the mistakes of a few?"

            The applause was louder this time. The First Enchanter appeared, approaching Wynne with a look of concern, but she shook her head. "What would you have them do?" she asked Rhys, speaking over the general babble. "Argue over procedure while the tower falls around them? We are all in the same boat, young man, and it behooves everyone to paddle, lest the current carry us away."

            Rhys was going to respond, but a warning look from the First Enchanter made him change his mind. It didn't matter anyhow. Mages on both sides of the hall had leapt from their chairs, booing or shouting angrily. Others were determinedly clapping in support of Wynne, or arguing with her detractors. The entire chamber was erupting in a cacophony of noise.

            Wynne regarded the reaction with an air of resignation. First Enchanter Edmonde whispered something into her ear. Whatever he asked of her, she reluctantly agreed and turned to leave. Everyone was so caught up in their arguments they barely noticed her departure.

            Beside Rhys, Adrian stood up. She wasn't taking part in the arguments, and instead marveled at it all with a bemused expression. "Not bad," she commented. "I couldn't have done better myself."

            "Yes, well, apparently my mouth has a mind of its own."

            "I like your mouth. It should do more of your talking for you."

            Rhys watched in disgust as two mages started shoving each other nearby. One was a Libertarian, while the other was part of the Loyalist fraternity—"Chantry apologists," as some liked to call them, for they advocated obedience to the Chantry and bitterly opposed all attempts at in de pen dence. He winced when the men started knocking over chairs, drawing others into the fray.

            "Well, don't look now, but the fun's about to end." Adrian indicated the main doors, and he looked just in time to see templars storm in. There were at least a dozen, swords in hand, already shouting at the top of their lungs for everyone to return to their quarters.

            The younger apprentices, most of whom had watched the goingson with wide eyes, immediately scrambled to obey. The others were slower to react, so the templars began wading into the stands to force their point. They grabbed whoever was nearest, roughly hauling them down to the floor area. This prompted general chaos; the mages began abandoning the seating area all at once, some fleeing while others angrily accosted the templars in defense of their fellows.

            The tension seemed at the point of turning into something ugly. Rhys held his breath, half expecting someone to cast a spell— a single spark of flame, even a staff pointed in the wrong direction, and that would be the end of it. The templars would be forced to act, and there would be bloodshed.

            But it didn't happen. With excruciating slowness, order was restored. Rhys remained where he was with a handful of the senior enchanters, all of them watching the proceedings with dismay. Adrian shook her head. "Shall we go, before the templars drag us out as well?"

            He nodded. More of them were arriving, and the mages were allowing themselves to be herded out. The shouting had given way to a sullen hush, marked only by the clatter of footsteps on the marble. As Rhys and Adrian made their way through the thick crowd at the doors, they were intercepted by an aged Tranquil in grey robes.

            "Enchanter Rhys?" the man asked.

            "That's me."

            "The Lord Seeker has asked for your attendance in his office. I'm to take you there immediately."

            Rhys exchanged a wary glance with Adrian. That was quick. Considering that he hadn't expected to be let out of the cell, being thrown back in— or worse— wasn't exactly a shocking prospect.

            "I'm going with you," Adrian vowed. He could tell from her tone there wouldn't be any arguing with her.

            "Your funeral."

            The long walk back to the Knight- Commander's office, now the Lord Seeker's office, felt more like a death march. As they ascended into the upper levels things became quiet, like a shroud had descended over the entire tower. The tension was palpable. None of the templars they passed said a word, and the Tranquil was content to silently lead the way.

            Rhys leaned in close to whisper to Adrian as they walked. "If they decide to punish me, I want you to promise you won't try to stop them."

            "Are you mad? Of course I will."

            "And give them an excuse to punish you, too? You can't help me, Adrian, and you can't help the rest of the mages from inside the dungeons."

            She frowned but said nothing, and avoided his per sis tent looks afterward.

            It wasn't long before they were in the office foyer once again. Twice in a single week— that had to be a record. The large window was wide open this time, letting in a breeze laced with sour smells from the city below. It also admitted the late autumn chill, making Rhys shiver.

            Two templars stood at attention outside the office door, so stiffin their alertness one could almost smell the fear coming off them. Fear of the Lord Seeker, Rhys assumed. They barely acknowledged the Tranquil, who bowed and glided back out without a word.

            "You're expected, Enchanter— alone," one of them said, and frowned at Adrian. His breath was visible in a fine mist.

            "I'm not going anywhere," she growled.

            The man hesitated, and then shrugged. Evidently he would rather the mages suffer the Lord Seeker's displeasure than risk it for himself, so he opened the door and stood aside.

            They entered. As before, Lord Seeker Lambert sat behind the desk with Ser Evangeline standing at his side. In the chair across from him, however, sat Wynne. The old woman stood immediately. Her gaze was cool and appraising.

            "Hello, Rhys," she said quietly.

            Of course she would be here. He shouldn't be surprised.

            "Hello, Mother," he said.

            If Adrian's eyebrows could have shot up any higher, they would probably have climbed into her hairline.

            The Lord Seeker cleared his throat, leveling a disapproving glare at Rhys. "I'm informed you caused quite the disturbance in the hall."

            "Isn't that why I'm here?"

            "It's not. Enchanter Wynne requested your presence after the assembly was finished. Why did you think you were allowed out of your cell?" Rhys was taken aback by that. Now it all made sense. The man looked at Adrian and frowned. "She did not, however, request the attendance of anyone else."

            "I invited myself," she said defiantly.

            "It is no bother," Wynne interrupted before the Lord Seeker could retort.

            He eased back in his chair, clenching his jaw in silent fury. "Do what you came to do," he said through gritted teeth.

            Wynne nodded, satisfied, and turned to Rhys once again. "I'm afraid there's nowhere for either of you to sit," she began, searching about the room as if expecting chairs to suddenly materialize.

            "I can stand," he said. "What's this about?"

            "I need your help."

            "My help?" Rhys glanced at the Lord Seeker, and then Ser Evangeline, but their stony expressions offered no enlightenment. "What could you need my help for? And why would I offer it?"

            "Would you rather go back to the dungeons?" the Lord Seeker interjected.

            Rhys didn't answer. Inwardly he rankled at the threat.

            Wynne merely nodded, as if his reply was nothing more than she expected. "An old friend of mine has been turned into an abomination," she began. "I intend a rescue, and that means going into the Fade to wrest control from the demon that has possessed him. It's a difficult task, and not one I can do alone. I'll need you to come with me to help perform the ritual."

            The Lord Seeker let out an angry growl and slammed his fist down on the desk. "You said
nothing
about taking Enchanter Rhys from the tower!"

            "Nor did I need to, until now."

            "Have you forgotten about the attack upon the Divine? This man is involved, and I cannot allow him to leave. I will not."

            "I thought you might say that." She reached into a pocket in her white cloak and produced a vellum scroll, the wax seal bearing the symbol of the Chantry. The Lord Seeker snatched it away with a scowl. Breaking the seal, he unrolled the scroll and read. "As you can see for yourself, the Divine has given me full authority to perform my mission as I see fit." She smiled slightly. "And I see fit to take Enchanter Rhys with me. He is a spirit medium, after all, and thus his abilities will prove useful."

            The Lord Seeker ignored her and continued to scan the document. Carefully. Finally his scowl deepened. "Where did you get this?"

            "From the Divine, obviously. An old friend introduced us."

            He rolled the scroll back up and tossed it onto the desk as if it were refuse. "You seem to have a great many old friends," he sneered. "And I'm supposed to let you endanger one mage just to save another? What is so special about this man?"

            Wynne considered. "He is Tranquil," she admitted.

            Rhys almost spat in surprise. "What? That's impossible!"

            The Lord Seeker also seemed surprised, and his eyes narrowed at Wynne suspiciously. "The Rite of Tranquility severs a mage's connection to the Fade forever. They cannot be possessed by demons; that is the entire
point
."

            "Even so, it has happened." She looked at Rhys. "You have performed research into demons, according to your First Enchanter. My friend has done the same. If he contacted a demon with extraordinary powers, we need to know what it is and whether this can happen again. If, however, this is a failing of the Rite of Tranquility . . ."

            "The Rite has never failed," the Lord Seeker insisted.

            "If it has," Rhys said, "then we all need to know it."

            Lord Seeker Lambert chewed over the idea, making a face as if tasting something unpleasant. Eventually he made up his mind. "Absolutely not," he said curtly. "I can't allow such an ill- considered venture."

            Wynne smiled sweetly. "That's not for you to decide."

            "I am responsible for the safety of all mages within the Circle."

            "If you prefer to have the Divine order you personally, that can be arranged."

            The Lord Seeker glared at her. It was the dangerous look of a man who wouldn't soon forget the insult being handed to him. Wynne refused to give in, and a silent battle of wills ensued as the others looked on in tense silence. Rhys wondered if it was about to come to violence.

            Instead, the man gave in. "Ser Evangeline will accompany you," he said curtly, "and ensure that Enchanter Rhys is returned to the tower once your task is done."

            The templar's eyes went wide, and her mouth opened as if she were about to protest, but then thought better of it. Wynne had no such hesitation. "I don't remember asking for an escort," she said.

            "Nevertheless, you will receive one." He glanced at Evangeline, and she nodded acknowledgment of the order. "I'm certain the Divine would not object to my providing extra protection for this mission of yours, not to mention some assurances a dangerous mage won't mysteriously elude our grasp while he's absent."

            "Now I'm dangerous?" Rhys snorted.

            "Yes." Lambert fixed him with a dangerous glare. "You think us fools? Ser Evangeline finds you in the crypts, with no explanation for your presence or your behavior? You know far more than you admit to. That in itself is an indictment I will not ignore." The last was delivered in a tone so forceful it made Rhys retreat a step.

            "Take him," the man barked at Wynne. "But if your intention is to spare your son from justice, you will not be successful. Even the Divine will not protect you if our investigation is interfered with."

            "So I see." She replaced the scroll in her cloak. Then she sat back in her chair, raising a curious brow at Rhys. "Are you willing to help me now? I won't force you to come, if you do not wish it."