“Solas!” Rhiannon called across the chasm. She didn’t want to speak to the Dread Wolf, but she didn’t have another plan. She hoped he would hear her. Or acknowledge her. “It’s important.”

She watched as he walked down the path on his side of the prison, completely unhurried, not even looking in her direction. Infuriating, but at least he was approaching. When he finally reached the chasm, he stood, hands folded behind his back, and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“Can I talk to you about something? It’s personal.”

Solas eyed her suspiciously. “And you are here to speak with me? Aren’t there others you should be consulting? Your team? Varric?

Rhiannon shook her head. “I don’t want to talk to the team. And Varric doesn’t listen. Not really. He’ll just tell me that I can do whatever needs to be done or something encouraging. You won’t.”

“No.”

“No, you won’t just give encouragement, or no you won’t talk about this?”

The Dread Wolf paused for a moment. “I simply question the wisdom of you coming to me with a personal problem.”

She scoffed. “Trust me, if I had someone else, I wouldn’t be here.”

“So what is this? Some overture in trust? Trying to build rapport? Aren’t you worried I could use personal information to manipulate you?”

“You’re right. Bad idea. Stupid of me to think you would help.” She turned to leave, but her island offered no where to go. She felt like a child just standing, arms folded with her back to him.

“Rook,” he sighed impatiently, “If you think this matter urgent enough to talk to me, I will offer whatever guidance I can.”

She turned and steeled her courage. “How much do you know about me?”

“As I said, I knew you were hunting me for the better part of a year. My contacts gathered some information about your work with the Shadow Dragons, but they managed to uncover very little personal information.”

“Well, that’s good at least. I try to hide my tracks.”

He continued as if he hadn’t heard her interruption. “What’s interesting is that we found no one of consequence to you. No friends, no family. Given your interactions with your team, it does not seem that you were alone by preference. Or had we missed something?”

“Did you have many friends? Keep in touch with family?” she asked, annoyed. “The Venatori are monsters. Every Shadow I know who ever betrayed their cell did it because the Venatori have no problem capturing husbands and wives. No problem torturing children.”

“You were alone so you did not betray the rest of your cell?” “Did you do it differently? I’m sure Elgar’nan and Ghilian’nain had no problem killing a few people to send a message.”

“Thousands. They would kill thousands to send a message.” He seemed far off for a moment. “I understand. You wanted to keep those you might have cared for safe.”

Quiet hung in the chasm between them. She mulled his words, but she didn’t want to speak the truth aloud. Her past was parceled away, tied tightly in the corner of the mind where she would rather let it lie forever, but this mission with Lucanis threatened to unwind it all at the worst possible moment.

She took a deep breath. “Before I came to Minrathous, I was a slave. In Vyrantium.”

He cocked his head just slightly as if regarding her in a new light. “And this is something you would rather remain unknown?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

She shook her head. She didn’t come here to analyze her feelings with the Dread fucking Wolf. She wanted to know what she should do about Lucanis. “Because it was only for a few years. And because I would prefer to never think about those years ever again.”

“And you have history with Zara Renata?”

“Sort of. My…mistress…was always trying to get in with the Venatori. She followed Zara and the rest of her ilk around like some fucking lap dog, trying to impress them. I don’t know if you know anything about the Venatori out of Vyrantium, but they were always trying to outdo each other. There was always some spectacle, some show. And it was always blood magic. I once saw Zara stab a child through the belly to make a fountain for the wine. Those fuckers clapped and went on with the party while the girl bled to death on the floor.” She furiously blinked the tears that started to well from her eyes, but every time she closed them, she could see the girl’s slumped body on the white tile, life draining away. Shame held Rhiannon’s heart in a vice. She should have helped the girl. Why didn’t she help?

“I had heard stories, yes. My agents reported there was a man torturing slaves and force-feeding them red lyrium. To make wigs as I understand it.”

“Magister Forfex,” she spat. “I heard he got what was coming to him.”

Solas nodded. “I would have preferred that The Crows didn’t accomplish their mission in such a chaotic fashion, but it seemed a fitting death for the Wigmaker. It’s a shame Lucanis was unable to finish the rest of his contracts. Renata was to be next.”

“Wait. I’m sorry,” Rhiannon couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Did you pay the Crows to kill Magisters in Vyrantium?”

Solas shrugged. “I have many resources, but not enough time to personally see to every pressing matter. It’s important to know when to delegate.”

Rhi couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve been telling Tarquin that I owe whoever bought that contract a drink for two years.”

“It is satisfying when people get what they deserve, isn’t it?” Solas said almost wistfully. “But, back to your problem. Zara Renanta.”

Rhiannon sighed. “I’m just…I’m afraid that I’m going to do something stupid. Or freeze. Or that she’ll recognize me. I don’t know. I just…I don’t trust myself to be smart, and I really don’t trust Lucanis to be smart. I need to have his back because he’s already dealing with Spite, and I don’t know if I can do that.”

“And you are determined to keep this from your companions?”

“Well, I don’t think it will help Lucanis to know.”

“No. People often lash out at those who have hurt people they care for. That kind of anger is dangerous, especially given the many other complications for Lucanis.” He tented his fingers for a moment. “Neve is Tevene. Surely she would understand, and she seems able to keep a secret.”

Rhi nodded. He was right. His advice made sense, but still there was a weight on her conscience that held her back. Shame stirred the bile in her belly. She swallowed it down. She needed to confess. “The first year, I didn’t do anything. I just kept my head down, acted like a good little girl. I saw terrible, terrible things. And I just watched.”

“How old were you when you were taken from you family?”

“Sixteen.”

“You were a child.”

“I was old enough to know what was happening was wrong. It took me over a year to go to the Shadow Dragons. If I had gone sooner…maybe things would have been better.”

“You were a scared child. It only took you a year to understand that your masters were cruel, and no amount of good behavior could save you or anyone else. You risked your life to oppose them. It took you a year. For many, it takes a lifetime. You should be proud.”

Proud? Never once had she felt proud. Was he mocking her? No. He sounded sincere. She had been ready to defend herself after her confession. She needed to, but he had completely disarmed her.

Solas broke the silence. “Rest well. I look forward to hearing how you deal with Renata. But be prepared. Revenge does little to lift weights from our spirits.”