41
With the spiderweb of black veins already almost to your wrist, you know you don’t have much time to stop the blight before it consumes you completely. Saving Neve is important—but so is saving yourself.
“I have to go,” you rasp, your throat tightening. It has to be nerves, you tell yourself. There’s no way the blight could have traveled through you that fast.
“Get to headquarters,” Tarquin says. “They’ll help you reach the Grey Wardens. We’ve got a…” he hesitates, “... shortcut.”
Back at the pawn shop, Mae and Lorelei help you through their magic mirror—an eluvian, they call it—to the Grey Wardens, who take one look at your arm and inform you gravely that the Joining is your only chance. But then, you knew that already.
By luck or the Maker’s grace, the Joining doesn’t kill you. At least, not in the short term. You’ve got your life back for now and no one thinks less of you for your choice, but there’s still a price to pay when word from Minrathous reveals it’s too late for Neve.
Next time, you’ll think twice about petting the cat.