Here's chapter one! Sorry it's so short, but I needed to get the plot moving.
Freya felt for the lock in the dark. After a few seconds, her fingers grazed the keyhole.
"Ládrin," she whispered. Open.
She heard a faint click, and the doorknob turned easily in her hand. She pushed gently, casting a spell of silence so the inhabitants of the building would not hear her enter.
The entry was as dark as the moonless sky outside. Not a single lamp was lit, but Freya didn't need the light to find her way. She was no elf by any means, and she couldn't see very well in the darkness, but she already knew where to look for what she needed. She could feel the life of the man who carried it.
She pressed herself against the cold wall and inched along, tracing the outline of the doors until she came upon the one she was looking for.
"Ládrin," she whispered again, and the door swung inward without a sound.
The man lay on the bed in a corner, breathing heavily. She knew he would be startled if she made an attempt to take what he carried around his neck.
"Theyna un slytha," she spoke into his ear. Be silent and sleep.
The man's breathing slowed. He would not wake until she released the spell.
With that taken care of, she reached around the man's neck and unclasped the chain, grazing her fingers against his smooth skin. She slipped the necklace off his neck and placed it in the pocket of her cloak.
Time to go.
She turned to the doorway, and proceeded out the way she came, releasing the spell on the man as she mounted her horse. She nudged his sides and spoke quietly to him.
"Gánga, Islingr"
Her horse sped off. Freya spoke hushed words to remove her horses footsteps as they rode, leaving nothing behind but a few clouds of dust.
Freya slipped her feet out of her boots and sat on her bed, looking at the stone pendant she held in her palm. There were three diamonds hidden amongst the ancient carvings.
The mirror on her bedside table began to shimmer and she sighed. Slipping the pendant into her pocket again, she picked up the mirror as an image of her brother, Nremyn, spread itself across the glass.
"Greetings, sister."
"Hello, Nremyn."
"Did you get it?" he asked, referring to the object currently occupying Freya's pocket.
"Yes," she replied. A sad smile crossed her face.
"What's wrong?"
Freya pushed back a lock of hair covering her eyes. "It's nothing. I'm just a little worn out. That's all."
"I see. Well, have you tried it yet?"
"Tried what?"
Nremyn laughed, a deeper throaty laugh that made Freya wish he were young again, with his adorable little giggle that sent the whole room into a fit.
"Decoding it, of course! What else would you do with it?"
"Give it back, perhaps?" she whispered.
"Is that what's bothering you?" Nremyn's face wrinkled with concern. "I told you, Freya, he stole it from the Dragon Riders."
"Then why do we not give it to Eragon. If it belongs to the Riders, then-"
"Freya, I am a Rider."
"Does Eragon even know?"
Nremyn paused. "I'll tell you what. I'll tell him tomorrow. Does that make you feel better? Now get some sleep. We'll talk again in the morning."
And with that, her brother faded from the mirror's view. Freya set it down again and stretched out on her bed to sleep. She didn't even bother changing out of her travel clothes. Her conversation with her brother replayed in her head over and over. And for some reason, Freya doubted that her brother would actually tell the legendary Dragon Rider anything at all.
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