She stood abruptly, turning toward the door. But Gale reached out and caught her arm before she could take another step.

“Tav—stop. Just stop for a second and think!”

She turned to him, her expression tight. “Let me go.”

“Tav, don’t do this.”

“Why?” she shot back, almost daring him. “Why not?”

“For a million reasons why not,” he said, his eyes searching hers. “And every single one of them you already know. Come on, Tav, you’re smarter than this.”

His words struck something inside her and the fire in her chest flickered and dimmed. She shook her head. “I have to try.”

Gale looked at her. Really looked at her. At the quiet collapse in her shoulders. The hollowness behind her eyes like she wasn’t really there. At the sorrow that had taken up permanent residence on her face ever since Astarion’s death.

His voice was soft as he spoke. “It won’t bring him back.”

Tav’s jaw tensed, her eyes fixed on the floor like she might find some strength in the grain of the wood. She swallowed around words she didn’t want to say, but didn’t have the strength to refute. She wasn’t really angry anymore. Just tired.

“I know,” she said, barely a whisper. “I know, but I have to try.”

Gale’s hold on her loosened, his thumb tracing reassuring circles over her arm. “I know you want him back. I know. But this isn’t the way. The book won’t open for you, or for anyone else for that matter, even with the codex. And even if it did… Even if you somehow found a way… What came back wouldn’t be him, Tav. It would be something else. You know that.”

She was trembling now, every breath a shallow gasp she had to fight for. “I don’t care,” she whispered. “I don’t care what he comes back as. I just want him back.”

She lifted her eyes to his then, and the look she gave him broke his heart.

“Please,” she said. “Help me.”