Asunder (38 page)

            "And what about Cole?" he asked.

            "Haven't you done enough for him?"

            "No, I don't think anyone has."

            Adrian frowned. He could tell she was struggling to find the words, ones that wouldn't upset him. It was an effort she usually didn't make. "If you really wanted to help Cole," she said carefully, "you wouldn't bring him to the tower. You know the templars aren't going to try and help him." She cut him off before he could interject. "And, yes, I know Ser Evangeline said she would help. But she can't, and she knows it. That's why she suggested you run."

            "And so maybe I should."

            She gave him a knowing look. "Cole's managed to live right under the noses of the templars for years. I imagine he's in no danger of being hunted. You, on the other hand, would be. It isn't a better choice."

            "You think I don't know that?"

            "You're not acting like you do." She put a hand on his shoulder, looking at him earnestly. "If news of what Pharamond learned gets out, it will remind everyone how desperate the templars are to keep power over us. When they try to punish you, it will be just like in Kirkwall. This is our chance, Rhys. This is what the Libertarians have been waiting for."

            "And I'm the sacrificial lamb; that's great." He sighed, rubbing a hand over his wet hair. The rain was beginning to slacken, although somehow it seemed like it should be coming down stronger than ever. He expected thunderstorms, lightning, the sky opening up above him. Instead, all he got was drenched. "Not everyone lives in a world of black and white like you do, Adrian," he said. "It doesn't have to end in a rebellion. There are other options."

            "Such as?"

            "My mother, for one. I refuse to think she'll—"

            Adrian's face hardened, and she pulled back. "I know Wynne is your mother," she said, "and I know how much that means to you. But you can't put your hopes in her. You can't trust her."

            "You don't trust anyone."

            "It's not that." She considered carefully, glancing at Rhys in a way that suggested he wasn't going to like what she had to say. "I couldn't say anything earlier, not in front of Ser Evangeline."

            "Now you're making me nervous."

            Adrian steeled herself. "When we reached the demon, Wynne defeated it— by herself, without any help from me. I don't think she even really wanted me there."

            "And that's bad?"

            "It's
how
she did it. Rhys, there's a spirit inside of her, a powerful one. I saw it emerge. It wasn't a spell, and she didn't summon it. I think it was there all along."

            He stared at her, stunned. "Are you saying . . . ?"

            "I think Wynne is an abomination."

            The next morning, just as the sun began to creep over the horizon, the camp stirred. Rhys had spent the rest of the night jittery and sleepless, and finally convinced Evangeline to get some sleep. How she managed to stand guard every evening and not succumb to exhaustion, he had no idea. An effect of the lyrium, or a sense of vigilance?

            It had been strange, sitting there in the quiet camp and watching the sleeping faces of the others. Wynne, in particular. Even in sleep, she looked tired and pale. An old woman who chose to travel across half the Empire and sleep out in the rain. She certainly didn't look possessed— abominations were twisted, hideous things like what Pharamond had become. Even when a demon didn't twist its host's body, there should still be some evidence of its presence. He should be able to sense it.

            Could Adrian be wrong?

            Everyone got to their feet sluggishly, wiping off their clothes and rubbing themselves vigorously to get rid of the chill. The dawn sky was clear, bursting with red and orange, and Rhys might have thought it pretty had he not been so preoccupied.

            As Evangeline collected the mounts from where they were grazing, Rhys called out to her. "Leave one of them here," he said. "I'd like to speak to Wynne. Alone."

            Wynne stopped brushing her hair and looked up in surprise. The others were similarly curious, but no one said anything. Evangeline merely nodded. "We'll go slowly. Catch up as soon as you can." He could only imagine what she thought he was planning. She hadn't asked him anything since he and Adrian had returned to the camp.

            Everyone quietly mounted and rode off, leaving Rhys and Wynne behind. Cole was the only one to look back. He seemed worried. Perhaps he thought Rhys was planning to leave him? Reluctantly, the young man turned back to the road ahead . . . and within moments they were gone.

            Wynne kept brushing as if nothing were amiss. She took several pins from her robe and put her hair up into a bun, all the while not looking in Rhys's direction. He was stumped as to where he should begin. He'd spent the night waiting for this moment, but all the things he'd rehearsed evaporated from his mind. How did you accuse someone of being an abomination?

            "She told you," Wynne said.

            He stared at her, his mouth agape. It hadn't been a question, simply an observation. Wynne sat with hands folded in her lap and looked at him with a wary expression. "I . . . guess she did, yes," he muttered.

            "Close your mouth, dear. It's unbecoming."

            His mouth snapped shut with an audible click.

            "I suppose this was inevitable," she sighed.

            He almost didn't want to ask. "Is it true?"

            "Is it true I've been possessed by a spirit? Yes, that is true." Before he could ask another question, however, she held up a finger and smiled patiently. "No, it is not what you believe has changed me. The spirit was with me when we first met."

            "But that was . . ."

            "Many years ago, yes." She frowned thoughtfully, staring into the ashes of the campfire. "I died, you see. It happened at the beginning of the Blight. The Tower of Magi in Ferelden had been taken over by abominations, and I was killed in the battle. As I lingered on the precipice between life and death, a spirit came to me. Not a demon, not anything horrid or selfish, and it offered me a second chance."

            He waited, as it seemed there was more to the story, but Wynne said nothing. She continued to stare, and he wondered what she was thinking. This felt like a confession. "A second chance to do what?" he asked.

            Wynne shrugged. "I wish I knew. Years ago I thought my time short, that I had been given only a temporary reprieve. I was alive for some greater purpose, and once that was done I would die as I was meant to." She shook her head sadly. "I fought to keep the Circle from collapsing, to prevent a war that would have cost untold lives . . . and nothing. I live still."

            What ever Rhys had expected to come of this conversation, this wasn't it. He walked a few steps away, rubbing his forehead like that would get his brain functioning, and then turned back. Wynne still sat there, looking at him expectantly. He sat down on the grass, a little too suddenly.

            "Are you sure it's not a demon?" he asked. "I mean . . . I've never heard of a benevolent spirit possessing anyone. They can be curious about our world, but they don't go out of their way to enter it like demons do."

            "Demons and spirits are not so different from one another. They are two sides of the same coin. As for why this spirit chose to come to me . . ." Her voice trailed off, and she became contemplative. "I don't know. It happened so quickly. I think it had always been with me before, and simply chose that moment to act."

            "But you don't know why?"

            "We did not speak. I . . . felt it come, like a warm glow spreading throughout my body. It provided the spark of life that was fading from me, and I think that's where it remains. A part of me, of my soul."

            "Is that why I can't sense it?"

            "I believe so. The spirit and I are not separate."

            "But Adrian said she saw it appear."

            Wynne allowed herself a private smile. "It may have seemed that way. In the Fade I have power in the same way the spirit does. If I didn't show it earlier, it's because I didn't wish to tip my hand to the demon."

            Rhys chewed his lip and considered, while Wynne busied herself packing. There were so many questions he should be asking, yet what he faced was simply too large to think of anything else. He remembered her anger when the subject of saving Pharamond arose, back when he'd told her and Adrian about Cole. Now it made sense.

           
I'd like you to meet my mother, the abomination.

           
Oh, how charming! She doesn't look at all twisted like most of them do.

           
No, she looks quite good for a dead woman, doesn't she?

            He let out a slow breath. "So what now?"

            Wynne paused, closing her pack. "That's an excellent question. In a way, this is very convenient. I'd hoped to speak with you away from Ser Evangeline, but there was never a convenient excuse."

            "What do you mean?"

            She looked at him intently. "I want you to learn Pharamond's ritual."

            "You . . . want me to do what?"

            "The Divine is trying to change the Circle, Rhys. What Pharamond has learned will be the first step toward that. His knowledge can't die with him, and if what Ser Evangeline tried to do at the keep is any evidence, that may very well come to pass."

            He jumped to his feet, his anger resurfacing as several realizations combined at once. Learning she was possessed or dead . . . truth be told, those he couldn't wraphis head around, but
this
was something he understood. "You knew all along what he was doing!"

            "I knew his goal."

            "And . . . you were just going to let Evangeline kill him? After all that?"

            She waved her hand dismissively. "I wouldn't have let it come to that. Shale would have intervened. As it happened, Adrian's outburst made that unnecessary. I still think it was foolish for Pharamond to go so far . . . only a Tranquil could rationalize an attempt at possession . . . but the Divine's purpose is very clear, as is my own."

            "So all this, helping a friend in dire need, that was all just a ruse."

            "For the templars' benefit, yes. I've been visiting Pharamond off and on for several years, in the hope his research would bear fruit. And it has."

            "You could have told me."

            She chuckled ruefully. "Like you were so quick to tell me of Cole? Or Evangeline's true mission? I must guard my purpose, as well as the Divine's involvement." When he stormed angrily toward the horse, she leapt to her feet and chased after him. Catching his arm, she pulled him about. "Listen to me, Rhys: Libertarians like Adrian believe that the Circle must be destroyed. I believe it can be made better. The templars must be shown the truth."

            "And why doesn't the Divine simply order the templars to do as she asks?"

            "Because it isn't that simple. The Divine must contend with centuries of tradition, and there are those in the Chantry who resist. Or do you
truly
believe a single mage managed to sneak out of the White Spire and infiltrate the ball at the Imperial Palace, all on his own?"

            That gave him pause. "You don't mean . . ."

            "Of course I do. The templars are unruly beasts. They must be led to the water; they cannot be forced to drink. Until they do, we must protect ourselves." Wynne hesitated. She cupped Rhys's cheek in a moment of unexpected tenderness. "And you must be protected. Learning the ritual would make you the only person other than Pharamond who knows and can use it. That will have value the Divine cannot overlook . . . and neither can the Lord Seeker."

            Rhys scowled, reaching up and removing her hand. "You knew a spirit medium could learn it. That's why you brought me."

            "I knew this could save you."

            He turned back to the horse. Taking the reins, he pulled himself up into the saddle. Wynne remained where she was, watching him without comment. He thought he'd had her figured out, but clearly he hadn't even been close. "You're a piece of work." He shook his head. "You're no better than Adrian. Neither of you can see beyond your cause, to whom it affects."

            She sighed patiently. "Rhys, I'm trying—"

            "Trying to justify why a spirit chose to bring you back to life. Because it couldn't be a random act, something without meaning. You need to be a crusader. I get it."

            His words were sharper than he'd intended, but they silenced her nevertheless. Perhaps she meant well. Adrian meant well, too. Somehow taking Cole and running didn't seem like such a bad idea.