Chapter 1: Stranger Danger
"Stenr reisa." Sweat gathers at Murtagh's brow as he tries to focus.
"This is pathetic," the shrill whine interrupts Murtagh, but he ignores it. Closing his eyes, he renews his efforts. The pull of the magic starts to wear him. He opens one eye and sighs when he notices the small rock barely hovering in his left hand.
He growls in frustration and hurls the infuriating rock across the clearing. He watches as it disappears into the tree line, silently hoping never to see another pebble again.
Rising from his seat on the gravelly ground, Murtagh smacks his tunic to free himself from the layer of dust coating him.
"The fates have it out for you." Murtagh looks to his right and Eesha smirks at him from her perch in a tree. Her yellow hair, which had looked neat and tidy this morning, is a disheveled mess. Bits of hair fall around her face and her long braid has come undone. Murtagh glares at his so called teacher as she jumps off the branch that she'd occupied for the better part of the day. She lands with a slight stumble but quickly steadies herself. "Aren't riders supposed to be gifted magicians?"
A piercing laugh bursts from her.
"Your commentary isn't helping," Murtagh ground out. His words seem to perk the aging witch. She smiles, the lines in her face become more pronounced. The cold look in her eye almost makes Murtagh regret talking back—almost.
Eesha marches over until they are toe to toe. She's as tall as Murtagh, making it easy for her to meet his eye.
"I see you're an expert," she hisses, but Murtagh doesn't back down. Anger flashes in her eyes at his defiance. Her hand reaches out and trails a path down Murtagh's cheek. He pulls back, disgusted by her touch.
A sharp pain explodes inside his mind. An ice-cold dagger stabs into his mental defenses. Murtagh quickly erects extra fortification, but Eesha keeps pushing through them. He struggles to maintain his ground as Eesha keeps coming at him.
Changing tactics, he tosses memories to distract her. Murtagh senses Eesha's horror as she's faced with some of his worst experiences. Her distraction gives him enough time to rebuild his mental wall and he checks it carefully for holes. Eesha tries to come at him again, but Murtagh clears his mind of everything but one thought. He grins as Eesha tries to find a foothold. She stalks around his wall, lashing out at random. Eventually, she realizes it's pointless and retreats.
Murtagh smiles when he notices the sweat on Eesha's face. Something hits Murtagh across the face. Biting back a moan, he spots the source of his pain. A pebble floats in Eesha's hand, she taunts him with his inability.
"You have until sundown to improve, rider." She spits the title like an insult.
"You will not make me look bad in front of the king," Eesha states grimly, the pebble now moving in the spaces between her extended fingers. Huffing, Eesha pivots and saunters away, taking the damned pebble with her.
Murtagh waits until she's out of sight, and then another ten minutes to be safe. Once he's sure she's gone, he stumbles over to the small river on his left. The growing shadows tell him it won't be long til sundown.
The gurgling stream of water couldn't be deeper than three feet, but luckily swimming wasn't on Murtagh's mind.
He bends over and takes a drink from the cool stream. The first drink he's had since Eesha woke him at dawn. Yet another of her teaching methods. Starvation was supposed to make him better, but his lack of improvement says otherwise.
Once he's satisfied, Murtagh splashes water over his face and neck in an attempt to clear his head. The water doesn't have the effect Murtagh needs, and as he leans back on his legs, his thoughts drift to Thorn. Two days. That's how long it's been since he saw his dragon. His other half. His soulmate. He already feels restless and hollow. The only way to see him was to improve. At least, that's what Galbatorix said after Murtagh failed again to capture his brother. His self-righteous brother that dared dangle hope in front of him with no intent of actually helping.
Just another sick joke.
The fates sure had a twisted sense of humor. He laughs hoarsely and rises. The chances of him actually improving are slim, but Thorn depends on him. Murtagh won't let him down. Murtagh stretches out his muscles and turns around just in time to see a girl flying at him.
The next thing Murtagh knew he was soaked up to his waist, sitting in the river.
"Damn it!" Looking up he sees a girl draped over the river bank, her arms trailing in the river. Judging from the water dripping down her face Murtagh guesses her head had also fallen in the river. Short black hair is plastered to her tan face and her face is contorted in frustration.
The girl pushes herself up and doesn't even seem aware of his presence. Standing up, she flings her arms around, the sleeves of her trench coat soaking wet. Murtagh stands up and wades to the bank of the river, giving the girl a wide berth.
The girl continues to ignore him, instead attempting to wring out her sleeves and grunting at the lack of success. Murtagh starts coming up with possible reasons she would be here.
This stretch of woods was private, owned by Eesha and guarded to keep any intruders out.
How did she sneak up on me? He would've sensed her, but she seemed to materialize from the air. Is this another test of my loyalty? No. Galbatorix had no need of those now that he owns me. So what?
Murtagh moans internally, really wishing he could dry himself with magic. Wet clothes were not a personal preference, but to dry his clothes quickly he'd have to strip in front of this strange girl - which wasn't ideal. He watched the girl, who had finally stopped attempting to dry her soaked coat. She was short, barely reaching his shoulders and had a large pack strapped to her back. A child traveling alone?
But that doesn't explain how she ended up here. Years in court taught him never to assume an opponent was weak because of their stature. So despite this girl's underwhelming appearance, Murtagh prepares himself for an attack.
This girl could be dangerous.
As if hearing his thoughts the girl finally decided to acknowledge his presence.
"Stare much?" she asks, raising her eyebrows. Murtagh frowns.
"You're on private property. You should leave before the owner finds you. Eesha doesn't take well to trespassers." Actually, Eesha doesn't take to people. Murtagh may not trust this stranger, but he didn't wish Eesha's attention on anyone. The girl doesn't seem to hear any of Murtagh's words.
"Are you Murtagh?" she asks, a smile creeping on her face.
Great, another fan. Ever since Galbatorix announced Murtagh as a dragon rider people had swarmed to him. Much more annoying when the few people who had known he was Morzan's son bothering him growing up. People thinking they could use him for their own selfish reasons. Though the people who knew the truth of his heritage was a short list.
"You're mistaken," he says. He walks past her and returns to the clearing. Whatever happened to her isn't his concern, he has to focus on getting better with magic. Thorn is at stake and it would take more than a child to distract him. His shoes stick, turning the dirt to mud wherever he steps.
"No, I'm not," the girl insists and he hears her footsteps follow close behind him. "I need to talk to you."
"Can't talk. Busy." He keeps his tone curt, hoping she'll take the hint.
"This can't wait." She doesn't. Murtagh ignores her, bending over to grab a random rock from the ground.
"It's important," the girl yammers on. Murtagh closes his eyes and tries to clear his head. "I can help you."
Murtagh blocks her out and focuses on finding the magic inside of him. The silence stretches out and Murtagh hopes the girl is gone.
"Are you doing magic?" she asks, her voice closer and somewhat softer. Murtagh refuses to lose his concentration.
"Stenr reisa," he mutters quietly. The normal sapping of energy happens and Murtagh feels the rock lift from his palm. He opens his eyes and smirks. The pebble is hovering six inches from his palm. Finally.
A flash of light spooks him, breaking the spell. The rock falls back into his hand. Whirling around, he spots the girl standing a few feet next to him. A sheepish look on her face.
"Sorry about the flash. Default."
She shrugs and Murtagh notices a strange rectangular device in her hand.
"What do you want?" he asks, breathing through his nose in an attempt to stay calm. The girl smiles and walks towards him, tucking her strange device into her pocket.
"For you to listen. I'm here to help you. Your mother sent me. She-"
Murtagh cuts her off before she can get much farther with her lie. "My mother's dead. Nice try."
He turns and walks away. Maybe he can lose her in the forest.
"Light in the darkness!" the girl shouts.
Murtagh freezes. The blood in his veins grows cold. Turning around, he glares at the girl, who shifts under his gaze. "Where did you hear that?"
"You know where. Selena sent me to find you," the girl chokes out. Her voice steady, but her face uncertain.
"My mother is dead. Whatever game you're playing won't work," he warns before disappearing into the trees.
Murtagh practically stomps through the forest, not caring if he disturbs the local wildlife. Fury radiates through him as he puts distance between him and the clearing.
Why are you so upset? He asks himself.
You know why. The hope of one day being free from Galbatorix was a nice dream, but would never happen.
But this? The girl - whoever she was - dangled his mother in front of him, like he would believe she was alive after all these years. His mother is long dead.
How did she know that phrase? the nagging voice of reason in him asks. No one knows that except him and his mother.
Thorn knows, as does Galbatorix. They've both seen all his memories.
But how would Galbatorix benefit by telling others?
A memory resurfaces of when Galbatorix broke his mental barriers and took everything from him. The rush of pain, the intrusion on the one place he was supposed to be safe. The mad king was not gentle, he crashed through all of Murtagh's memories, seemed to savor the pain inflicted on him as a child. It was the most horrifying experience Murtagh has ever felt and he quickly reburied the memory.
The rush of emotions left Murtagh feeling weak, he leans against a tree for support. Taking deep breaths to steady himself. Shaking his head to get rid of old pains, Murtagh realizes someone is following him. Ducking behind a tree he waits. Seconds pass until a person walks past. Murtagh grabs them and shoves them against the tree, crushing their throat with his arm.
The girl stares back at him, brown eyes wide.
"Stop following me," he growls, trying to intimidate her. It seems to succeed, the girl's eyes filling with fear as she claws at his arm. He presses down just enough to hurt, but not kill.
"Can - help - you," she chokes out. Rage fills him and Murtagh jams his arm deeper into her neck. The girl coughs and brings her knee up, hitting Murtagh in between the legs.
It wasn't the strongest kick, but it was enough to get Murtagh to drop her. Pain echoes through his stomach and he clutches the tree to keep himself from bending over. She falls and crawls away, while Murtagh moans.
"What is wrong with you? I'm trying to help!" the girl rasps. Murtagh can hear her collapse to the ground. He breaths through the pain and turns his back to the tree, keeping the girl in sight. But the pain makes it hard for him to stay upright. He looks up in time to see her reach into her coat. Murtagh tenses and she pauses before slowly pulling out a piece of paper. "Just read this, moron."
She tosses it his general direction, but it simply flutters to the ground in front of her. Sighing the girl takes a shuddering breath before flipping herself to her back.
Murtagh watches her for several minutes, waiting for her to strike. The rise and fall of her chest grow steady and his pain now significantly less he reaches out and snatches the paper before retreating back to his tree. Leaning against it, he keeps an eye on the girl lying on the ground.
Examining the paper he notices it's odd shade and crisp edges. A lump of red wax seals it and Murtagh recognizes the seal. It's from a ring that used to belong to his father. Cracking the wax, Murtagh opens the letter and reads it. Tears well in Murtagh's eyes as he scans the paper's content.
It takes him a minute to finish it and when he does, he blinks and scrubs the tears away with his sleeve. Looking up, he realizes the girl is gone. He frantically scans the area, before noticing her sitting on the ground beside him. She looks up at him, her face sober.
"Believe me now?" she asks. Murtagh nods.
"There's just one problem," he says, tucking the letter inside his tunic. The girl sighs.
"Now what?" she asks, her voice exasperated.
"I can't perform the spell," he says, his voice low.
"Why not? Learn to love your chains?" she snaps at him, pushing herself to her feet and raising her eyebrows. Murtagh notices bits of twigs sticking to her hair and clothes.
"Far from it," he growls, hating even the suggestion that he would want to live as he does now.
"Then what?" the girl demands. She glares at him and pokes him in the chest. "I took a big chance coming here and now you won't even try?"
Murtagh knocks her hand away from him and meets her stare. "I don't expect you to understand."
"Try me," she counters. Murtagh sighs and shakes his head.
"Fine, go back to your master," the girl spits and walks away. Murtagh reaches out and grabs her wrist.
"Wait."
The girl looks at him, her lips pressed together anger in her eyes.
"That spell is really advanced and . . ." Murtagh pauses, slightly embarrassed. "I'm not sure I can cast it."
The girl laughs at him. Her shoulders shake and she can't keep the stupid grin off her face. Murtagh drops her wrist, irritated.
How dare she laugh at me? Murtagh turns around, embarrassed by his own confession. He was supposed to be a rider, son of the two most powerful magicians in history. Magic should come easily to him, but it just didn't and that rubbed Murtagh the wrong way. He had always learned as much as he could, couldn't get enough knowledge and was practically fluent in the ancient language. Which is how he knows that the spell his mother instructed to perform is risky at best, fatal at worst. Do you have a choice?
Eventually, the girl stops laughing. Murtagh tenses and the sound of her shoes on the soft floor signal her movement. Whirling around, Murtagh prepares himself for an attack. What he finds instead is the last thing he expected. Concern. The mirth in her eyes is gone. Replaced with worry. Not an emotion Murtagh is used to. At least, not used to other people feeling it for him.
"But you're supposed to be the most powerful magician in Alagaesia! After Galbatorix."
The girl seems genuinely shocked, which just irritates Murtagh further.
"Well I'm not," he says shortly.
A smirk tugs at the girl's lips and she raises her hands in defense.
"Sorry for assuming," she snickers and Murtagh decides that he does not like this girl. "Wait, then how is any of this gonna work? It all hinges on you casting the spell." She looks at him expectantly.
"That's not my fault!" he says. The girl laughs again, but it's hollow.
"Great, so I'm screwed." The girl runs her hand through her hair.
"Think you could point me in the direction of the Varden? Maybe Eragon can help send me home. You know since our whole plan is ruined. Two months of planning all down the drain and now I'm stuck in this medieval mess. But hey, at least you tried," she drawls at him, an insincere smile on her face.
Murtagh frowns at her bad joke and sarcastic tone. "I'm still struggling with basic magic." he tries to explain.
"You won't know unless you try," she reasons.
"I don't have to try, I can barely lift a damn pebble!" he roars, but the girl stands her ground. Her eyes determined and Murtagh sensed she didn't like things not going her way.
"I risked a lot coming here. Left my home, my family. They need me, now you're saying I can never see them again because you won't even try?" she argues, brows raised.
Murtagh tries to argue against her, but his stance was already flawed. He could also relate to having to look out for someone. The two lock eyes, until Murtagh, relents. Sighing, he nods. "Fine, but this is going to take something from both of us."
"I know what I signed up for," she states, a cocky smile on her face.
Murtagh almost smiles when a loud crack echoes through the forest.
"Eesha."
Looking up, he sees the sky has turned a light purple.
Sundown. Damn it.
"Who?" the girl asks. Murtagh feels like punching himself. How could he not have noticed the time?
"My mentor. We have to hurry."
The girl nods and Murtagh grabs her wrist and leads her deeper into the forest.
He runs as fast as he can with the girl stumbling behind him. Distance is their only ally. If Eesha finds him, the girl will die and he will be tortured for who knows how long. They've only been running a few minutes when the girl starts to slow down.
"Come on," he snaps. The girl is panting, and even as he turns, she stumbles over a tree root and falls, forcing him to stop.
"One . . . second," she pants face down in the dirt. Murtagh watches the trees around them looking for any trace of pursuit. Shifting his stance, Murtagh grows anxious. The girl starts to stand, but she seems dizzy and stumbles right into Murtagh. She leans against his arm and moans.
Standing here won't do any good.
With a grunt, Murtagh grabs the girl and tosses her over his shoulder. An eep is all the reaction he gets as he resumes running, taking care to watch for any fallen branches or rocks. The girl's wet sleeves smack his lower back as he increases his speed. He quietly thanks the gods for his heightened senses as he jumps over a fallen log that he wouldn't have noticed in the quickly lengthening shadows.
By the time Murtagh spots the edge the forest, it's officially dark. He skids to a stop and takes a slightly shaky breath as he waits for his heart to slow down. The girl hadn't said a word since he picked her up, and Murtagh realizes he doesn't even know her name. Just that she is the only one who can help him. At least that's what his mother's letter made it sound like.
He pauses at the edge of the forest, still safely inside the shade of the trees. The Toark River shimmers in the distance, about a league away. Sweat dampens his shirt and he's exhausted, but crossing the river is the best way to escape Eesha and the first step towards finding Thorn.
"Are we stopping?" the girl asks from her spot on his shoulder. Murtagh shifts to carefully put her down, "Gently!" she urges, but his arm is more tired than he thought, and the girl slips and falls ungracefully on the ground. She huffs and rubs her backside.
"Seriously?"
Murtagh ignores her and tries to step out of the forest, but finds he can't, something almost like an invisible wall stops him. He watches as the girl pulls herself up and walks past him. She takes a deep breath and takes in the wide plain. After a second she turns around and looks curiously at him.
"Waiting for an invitation?" she asks sarcastically, her hands on her waist.
"I can't leave," he informs her, pushing against the invisible force field. Demonstrating his predicament.
Murtagh grunts as he pushes hard against the force keeping him in the forest. Sighing the girl stands and walks over to him. Raising her hand she slowly reaches out to where his hand is pressed against the invisible wall. Her hand passes through the wall and touches his without any resistance. Frowning the girl grabs Murtagh's wrist and tries to pull him to her. She ends up smashing Murtagh's hand against the invisible wall, causing him to grunt in pain, with still no effect on her.
"This makes no sense," she mumbles as Murtagh cradles his stinging hand. Murtagh racks his brain, trying to think of how this is happening. Realization hits him and he feels a fool for the second time today.
"I'm bound," he says. "Galbatorix told me not to leave this forest without Eesha."
"Wouldn't you remember that?" the girl asks. Murtagh scowls openly at her.
"I've been a bit preoccupied today."
"Well, whoop di doo. That settles it. You need to do the spell, now." the girl tells him. Murtagh sees the logic to her plan and nods.
"Alright, come here," he out the letter, he quickly looks over the spell. He carefully replaces it and turns to face the girl, who's now on his side of the invisible wall. They stand between two large trees and Murtagh moves closer to her until they stand toe to toe. Looking down at her he notices purple bruising around her neck and guilt trickles into his mind. Pushing it away he concentrates on the spell. "Did my mother explain-"
Murtagh's cut off when the girl takes his hands and places them on her either side of her head so he's almost holding it. She then reaches up and copies his stance, her much smaller hands on either side of his head barely brushing against his hair. Looking up at him, a serious look on her face Murtagh is caught off guard by how mature she seems in that moment. More mature then he's seen her so far.
"Ready?" she asks softly.
Murtagh clears his throat and reaches inside him for the well of magic. Hoping that this will work he whispers to the wind. "Gath alfrs lif eom eka."
A heavy weight presses down on Murtagh's chest and then moves to his head. It feels like someone is tearing down his mental walls. His first instinct is to fight it and flashes of when Galbatorix ravaged his mind overwhelm him, but after a few moments, Murtagh relaxes and lets the presence in. A searing pain engulfs him and everything goes white.
