Chapter Seven

The Plains

Skandar had bad dreams that night. They weren't quite bad enough to wake him up, but just bad enough to make his sleep shallow and disturbed. He woke up early the next morning with a feeling of deep unease. He was cold, too. His blankets had fallen off during the night. His upper back was aching, too.

He shivered and groped for the blankets, and then suddenly realised what else was wrong. There was no-one else in the lean-to. Panic shot through him, and he scrambled out into the open in a split second.

'Mother! Father!'

He stopped, and breathed a sigh of relief. They weren't gone. They were both there by the fire with Laela, large as life. His mother was sleepily eating an apple, and his father was sitting hunched by Laela's flank and staring into the fire. They looked up at the sound of his voice.

'Yes, Skandar?' said Skade. 'What's wrong?'

Skandar sighed and went to her. 'I had a bad dream.'

She put an arm around his shoulders. 'I'm sorry. I should've told you I was going to sit out here all night, but I didn't think of it. Here, have something to eat. We've got to leave soon, so we can make it over the mountains by tonight.'

Skandar scowled. 'I'm tired of travelling. Can't we just stay here for a while?'

'No. I'm sorry, Skandar, but we have to get to the dark elves.'

'Why?' said Skandar.

Skade hesitated. 'Don't you want to see them?'

'I suppose so, but why do we have to go so fast?'

Galbatorix looked up. 'Because they can help us,' he mumbled. He was pale and haggard, and there were dark smudges under his eyes. Skandar thought he looked very ill.

'Do we really need help?' he asked doubtfully.

'Yes,' said Skade. 'We need a home. We can't live with humans because we're not human, but the dark elves will take us in.' She glanced at Galbatorix. 'At least, your father believes they will.'

Skandar watched his father with concern. 'What's wrong, Father?'

'He's got another headache,' Skade said, keeping her voice low. 'I'd leave him alone for now if I were you.'

'Oh. All right.'

Galbatorix remained silent and uncommunicative for the rest of that day. They ate, packed up the camp and got on Laela's back again, and the white dragon flew up and over the mountains. The journey resumed yet again, but the magic had gone out of it for Skandar. He was in too bad a mood to care about the fact that they were in a new country; all he was aware of now was the cold and the dirt ingrained into his white robe, and the irritable look about both of his parents. It made him feel lonely and fed up, and he didn't try and talk to them while they soared over the snow-capped mountains.

'Skandar?'

Skandar started slightly. 'Laela?'

The white dragon had made tentative mental contact with him. 'I hope you don't mind. I wanted someone to talk to.'

'It's all right,' said Skandar. 'I'm bored. How far is it to the dark elves, anyway?'

'Not too far.'

'Will we get there today?'

'I wish, but no. It'll be a few days. I'm not sure how many. We're just going to… dear gods in a tree, will you look at that?'

'Look at what?' said Skandar.

'This,' said Laela, and sent him a mental image.

She'd done this a few times before. Skandar examinined the image, and realised that it was of the landscape as she saw it. Ahead the mountains came to an end, and beyond them were the plains. He'd never seen anything like them in his life.

They stretched out toward the horizon, big and wild and rugged. Rather than being flat, they were covered in patches of forest and jagged rock formations, and most of it was coated in snow.

'Oh my gods,' he mumbled. 'They're bloody huge!'

Laela gave a mental grin. 'You sounded just like your father when you said that. Yes, they're big all right. Not what I expected at all.'

'What did you think they were going to be like?' said Skandar.

'I thought they'd be more… well, inhabited. I thought there'd be farms and villages everywhere, but I can't see any signs of civilisation so far.' She heaved a great sigh that was just audible over the sound of the wind. 'Looks like we're going to have to do some more camping along the way.'

'I'm tired of travelling,' Skandar complained. 'When can we just stop?'

'Once we get to the dark elvish city.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes. Because when we get there I'm going to sit down and refuse to fly any further.'

Skandar grinned. 'You're funny. I like you, Laela.'

She shared a feeling of affection. 'I like you too, Skandar. You remind me a lot of your father, you know. The way he was before.'

'Before what?'

Laela paused. 'Before things changed. When he was still innocent. When bad things happen to people, they change. They don't smile so much, and they don't feel happiness as often.'

'That's horrible.'

'In a way. But we shouldn't try and stay innocent forever. Everyone has to grow up. Because when you feel happy less often… when you do feel it, you feel it all the stronger.'

'I don't want anything bad to happen to me,' said Skandar. 'But I'm scared that something might.'

'Don't worry,' said Laela. 'I'll protect you, and so will your father. He's stronger than he looks.'

'And Mother too?'

'Oh yes. She's the only person I know who can argue with your father and get away with it. Besides myself. We're the only people who could ever make him change his mind about anything. He's very stubborn, your father. Always has been.' She chuckled. 'I remember how cranky he used to get when people tried to make him do things he didn't want to. The light elves tried to make him become vegetarian, but he went and kept on eating meat in secret.'

Skandar was puzzled. 'Why would they want to make him do anything?'

'He was trained by them,' said Laela. 'All riders were. The light elves made all human riders adopt their ways. Human riders weren't even allowed to wear beards, if they were men, or marry, or eat meat. In fact, the ceremony to induct a new rider into the order included casting a spell over the human ones, that would make them look like elves as well. Your father was the only one who fought back, because he wanted to stay human.'

Skandar felt a little glow of pride. 'I would've fought back too.'

'I'm sure you would have. Your father fought a war rather than submit to light elvish tyranny. When we're on the ground again, look closely at him. Look at his ears. Then you'll know how much he wanted to stay human.'

'I will.'

They were silent for a while.

'Laela?'

'Yes, Skandar?'

'What do dreams mean?'

'I don't understand,' said Laela.

'I mean can they ever be real and not just dreams?' said Skandar.

Laela hesitated. 'Why do you ask, Skandar?'

'It's just that I had a dream last night,' said Skandar. 'And… I thought it was real. It was horrible.'

'A nightmare? Well, that's nothing to be worried about. Everyone has bad dreams sometimes. What happened in it?'

'I dreamed that I was with Mother and Father and we were walking somewhere together, and then they just disappeared and I was all alone. And then I woke up and they weren't there, and…' Skandar trailed off, suddenly embarrassed. 'I suppose that sounds silly.'

'No it doesn't. But you shouldn't worry about it. It's just a dream. Dreams can't hurt you.'

'But Father said sometimes they have warnings in them. Like someone's trying to tell you something. What if my dream was a message?'

'I doubt it, Skandar.'

'But what if it was and something awful happens?'

'Look, Skandar… I won't let anything bad happen to you. We're all here to protect you.'

'Yes. I know you are.'

'Then there's nothing to worry about.'

Skandar sighed. Laela's gentle voice made him feel better. She was right. It had just been a dream.

They camped that night on the far side of the mountains, some way into the plains. It was much colder here, and there was a thin layer of snow everywhere. They built another lean-to, and Laela curled herself around it to protect it from the wind. This time when Skandar went into it to sleep, Skade went with him. She asked Galbatorix to join them, but he silently shook his head and stayed where he was by the fire. Skade persisted, but not for very long. He obviously wasn't in the mood for an argument. Skandar had noticed how miserable he looked. If anything, he now looked worse than he had done the night before. He'd barely said anything, and kept wincing and touching his forehead. Skade had been watching him with a worried look, but hadn't tried to speak to him much. His Shade-eye kept opening itself, and it made them all slightly nervous.

Skandar went to sleep in darkness, nestled against his mother's warm body. For a while there was nothing but the drowsy silence that preceded sleep, and then…

…the dream.

He was walking through a snowy forest, like the ones he had seen back in the Northlands. Laela was flying overhead, and his parents were walking on either side of him. They were close; so close he could feel their warmth, and hear their hearts beating. They were going somewhere. He wasn't sure if he wanted to go. But he knew he had to. He had to go where they were going.

But as he walked, he stumbled suddenly. There was pain, pain in his back and arms, and his head.

Hurry up, Skandar, his father called. We have to be there soon.

He tried to stand up straight and walk, not wanting to disappoint him, but the pain would not let him. It was making him stumble, slowing him down, and they were leaving him behind. He tried to call after them, to tell them not to go, but his voice came out as a horrible grunting, rasping noise that had no words in it. He was forgetting how to talk.

His back hurt. The skin was tearing apart. He felt it open wide, like a mouth, and something came out. Something huge and dark, covered in blood and flesh.

He felt the shadow of it fall over him, and looked back. His heart beat fast.

Wings! Huge, wide wings, sprouting from his back. They were beating at the air of their own accord, and they looked like dark storm-clouds.

Skandar!

His parents were there, clutching at his hands, their faces full of sudden fear.

Skandar! Come back! Don't fly away!

But the wings continued to beat, dragging him away from them. Their hands slipped away from his, and then they were gone, fading away as if they had never existed, and he was alone on an endless white plain, lost in the cold and the dark. He called for them, screaming their names into the emptiness, but there was no answer, and he cursed at the wings and tried to tear them away from his back. But no matter how hard he pulled, no matter how many times he destroyed them, they always came back.

He was woken up the next morning by the shouting.

Fright seized hold of him. He didn't dare move, but lay very still in the lean-to and listened, his heart pattering.

'-Look, I told you, I don't know.' This was his father's voice, loud and angry.

'Don't you dare talk to me like that!' His mother. 'It's not my fault! You got yourself into this mess, you idiot, not me. I was the one who said we should leave well enough alone. Why should we have interfered? It was out of our hands! Fighting for people who didn't trust us – who tried to kill us, for gods' sakes!'

'I'm sorry, Skade, but I don't see it that way. I did what I had to do. And I know it's not your fault. And I'm sorry I didn't say something earlier, but there was nothing you could have done then, or now. I have to fight this on my own.'

'You're doing it again!'

'Doing what?'

'Trying to be noble!' Skade's voice was getting louder. 'You keep on doing this! Hiding things away! Refusing to let other people help you! Trying to do everything on your own, even if your life is in danger, not to mention other peoples'!'

'Skade, I can do this. It's not affecting me that badly, I'm not having to do anything except stay awake. All right? That's it. He's not doing anything except talk. He can't do anything but that. He's been permanently crippled, he's got no magic. I swear, there's no danger for you or Skandar, or Laela.'

'Oh? And can you promise that? How do you know he's not going to get any stronger? Well? Because the last I heard he wasn't talking, but now he suddenly is. Why? Did it just suddenly start happening, or was that something else you didn't see fit to tell me?'

'I did not – no. I didn't hide that from you, it only started happening yesterday night. I don't know why, it was probably the headache wearing me down or something. I can handle it. And stop shouting. You're going to wake up Skandar.'

'Yes, and what about Skandar? You can't keep doing this to him. He's too young to keep travelling like this. Bad food, no proper shelter… for gods' sakes, he's only ten! At this rate he'll get sick, or hurt, or freeze to death. Have you thought of that?'

'I brought him out here to protect him!'

'From what? There's no-one trying to kill him, or any of us! We were perfectly safe back in Alagaësia.'

'What, with my mortal enemies running the country? Skade, you know what he is. He's the only weredragon still living anywhere in the world, and do you know why? The riders hunted down and slaughtered the rest of them, that's why! Just like they did to all those other races they didn't approve of.'

'It's not like that any more! They're under my father's control now, and he'd never let them do anything like that!'

'Are you sure?'

There was a brief silence, and then a sharp, flat sound and a yelp from Galbatorix.

'Don't you dare say that,' Skade snarled. 'He's my father. He wouldn't let anything happen to his own grandson, and you know it. You should have let us stay there. The riders could have helped you.'

'What, me? You think they'd help me?'

'If my father ordered them to.'

'Oh yes. I'm sure they would. And I'm sure they'd all have been terribly upset if something tragically went wrong and I died.'

'Galbatorix.' Skade's voice had softened. 'Please. I love you, and I don't want anything to happen to you.'

'Neither do I. And that's why we have to get to Hen Addef as soon as we can. We made good progress yesterday, and I could see some more mountains on the horizon just before we landed. I'm sure they're the Y Castells. They've got to be.'

There was a sound of exasperation from Skade. 'Those dark elves again! How do you know they even exist? How do you know they'll welcome you?'

'Why wouldn't they? I'm one of their people.'

'These aren't Alagaësian dark elves. They'll be different. They won't know about you.'

'But there's no reason why they'd be hostile, is there?'

'We don't know that. I just don't see why they'd welcome three outsiders with open arms just because… well, I just don't know. But I'm worried that you're putting too much faith in them.'

'But they're dark elves, Skade! Don't you understand? My own people! They can help me go back to how I used to be, and we can live with them. Skandar can grow up with his own race, learn the things I never had time to learn. It'll be the perfect home for him. And you and I can grow old together in peace, with him and Laela. Imagine that, Skade. A real dark elvish city.'

Skade sighed. 'I don't know…'

'But it's got to be worth a try, hasn't it? And there's nowhere else we can go. We can be there in a few days. It'll be all right.'

'I suppose you're right. But you tell me if anything more happens, understand? And that's not a request. Because I swear to gods that the next time you hide something from me, I'll-,' she switched to another language, which Skandar didn't understand, but the words sounded distinctly menacing.

'Y-es,' Galbatorix said slowly when she was done. 'I think I can grasp that.'

'Good. Because I can't break oaths like you can.'

'Yes, yes, point taken. Anyway, we'd better get going. I'll go and wake Skandar-,'

'Absolutely not. You're going to let him sleep for as long as he needs to or I'm going to stick my claws in your neck.'

'Very funny.'

'I mean it!'

A pause.

'Fine,' Galbatorix snapped. 'I'm going for a walk. Or perhaps I should call it a limp.'

'Don't go too far-,'

'I don't think I'm capable of that any more, thankyou.'

And then there was silence again, broken only by the faint crunch of retreating footsteps.

Skandar stayed where he was, by now very wide awake, disturbed by fear and also by a strange sense of guilt. They'd been arguing about him, though he wasn't sure why. And there was something wrong with his father. He'd some something that his mother didn't like… made her angry with him. But what?

Skandar dug his claws into his palms. He'd never seen his parents really angry with each other before. Sometimes they argued, but he'd never heard them shout like that. As if they hated each other.

Do something! he whispered to himself.

Very reluctantly, he crawled out of the lean-to and peeked out at the campsite. Skade was pacing back and forth around the fire, her shoulders hunched. She had a predatory look about her that Skandar didn't like, and he hadn't forgotten how frightening she could be when she was angry. Laela was there too, not far away from the lean-to, watching the retreating figure of Galbatorix but making no move to follow him.

Skandar made a quick decision and slipped out of the lean-to once Skade's back was to him. He hid behind it, and then dashed off into the surrounding trees. Once he was sure he was invisible from the campsite, he skirted around it and headed in the direction he thought Galbatorix had gone in, intent on catching up with him.

The ground was wet and slippery underfoot, thanks to the snow, but Skandar was used to walking on snow. He moved at a near-run, not thinking of anything but finding his father.

There was no sign of him among the trees, and Skandar suddenly began to be afraid. What if he'd left? What if he wasn't coming back? And it would be all his fault…

He broke into a run. 'Father! Father, where are you?'

Nothing. He stopped and looked back. The camp had disappeared somewhere among the trees, and he was alone.

Skandar's resolve hardened abruptly, and he turned and ran on. The landscape was rough among the trees; there were rocks buried in the snow, and logs and tree-stumps and hidden holes. Several times he nearly fell over, but his boots, made for just these kinds of conditions, helped him keep his balance on the snow and the mud beneath it.

'Father!'

No reply. But when he stopped to listen, he thought he could hear the sound of footsteps not far away. He headed toward them, silent now, intent on catching them. Yes… definitely footsteps. They were soft, but rapid and definite. He could catch up with them.

He followed them for several minutes, watching for the dark figure of Galbatorix among the trees. The footsteps were heading away from him.

He sniffed the air – his sense of smell was quite strong. But the wind was blowing away from him, and toward the footsteps. Perhaps if he was a little closer…

Skandar paused by a tree to rest, and the thought suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea where he was. That gave him a little thrill of fear, but he dismissed it. All he had to do was find his father, and he'd show him the way back. Simple. Maybe he was watching him even now, playing tricks on him like he'd done before.

No. The footsteps were too far away for that.

Skandar grinned slyly to himself. If he was careful, maybe he could do the sneaking up this time. He'd show his father that he could hide too if he wanted to do it. That would cheer him up, definitely.

With this idea in mind, he moved on in the direction of the footsteps, placing each boot carefully as his father had taught him so that they would make as little noise as possible. He was getting closer now. The footsteps had slowed down. Then they suddenly turned and began coming toward him.

Skandar hesitated a moment, and then hid behind a tree, peering out to try and catch a glimpse of what was coming. Then he pulled himself together. There was nothing to be frightened of. I'm Galbatorix's son, he reminded himself. I'm strong.

As the footsteps drew closer, he finally picked up a scent. That was when he began to feel uncertain.

The scent was strange. It was heavy and musky – a furry kind of scent. Not human, or dragon. It smelled like something big.

Skandar stepped out into the open and stared straight ahead, at the trees. He could hear the footsteps properly now. They were slow and shuffling, mingled with a faint scratching sound and a kind of… snuffling. They weren't his father's at all.

The thing finally appeared, shoving its way through a thicket. It was a huge, shaggy beast, four-legged but nearly as tall at the shoulders as he was. Its head was low-slung and heavy, with a thick muzzle and small, round ears. The paws resting on the ground beneath it had long, curved claws – like a dragon's claws, but small. No. Not small. Not small at all, Skandar thought. They were about as long as his fingers, and sharp.

Skandar stood there uncertainly. He'd never seen anything like this before.

The animal was quick to notice him. It paused, lifting its muzzle. Its eyes, small and black, peered short-sightedly at him.

For a few moments, the two of them simply stood and regarded each other.

'Hello,' Skandar said at last, rather stupidly. But maybe it was intelligent, like Laela.

The animal began to growl, very softly.

'It's all right,' Skandar added, backing away. 'I'm not dangerous.'

It was at this point that the animal apparently made up its mind. It started to advance on him. Skandar stepped backward, not wanting to look away from it. His heel caught on a rock and he fell over, landing painfully on his backside, and before he could get up the beast was on him.

Skandar lay very still, the snow soaking into his robe, while it sniffed at him. Its big, wet nose quivered slightly, brushing against his face. He could smell its hot breath. And, when it opened its mouth slightly, he saw its jagged yellow teeth.

He started to tremble, very slightly, but made no move. The thing wasn't attacking…

The animal bit. Its teeth snagged in his robe, and it tugged at the thick cloth. Gently at first, but then harder. When Skandar tried to pull away, it redoubled its grip and began to drag him away.

'Hey!' Skandar cried. 'Stop that!'

The animal stopped and growled at him, baring its teeth. Skandar's nerve finally broke and he lashed out with his claws, leaving a row of deep scratches across the thing's snout.

The animal let go instantly, its growl suddenly breaking into a loud and guttural snarl.

Skandar scrambled upright. As if that were a signal, the animal reared up onto its hind legs. Its huge bulk unfolded, taller than a man and three times as bulky, the mouth wide open, massive forepaws raised. It bellowed and lunged at him.

Skandar dodged, and the creature landed back on its forepaws with an almighty thud. But it swung around in a split second and came after him, snarling. Skandar tried to avoid it, but the thing was shockingly fast for its size. In an instant it cornered him against a tree, and then…

Everything turned red for a moment, and then he was falling sideways. He hit the ground in an explosion of pain that knocked all the breath out of him, and then he was lying there, winded, something hot running down his side, gasping in shock and pain.

The animal was there, bearing down on him with its mouth open. He was going to die.

Skandar never really knew how it all happened. But in that moment as he lay there, his ears full of the beast's snarling, his side a mass of pain, something happened inside him. Without a second's thought he wrenched himself up, gathered his legs beneath him, and leapt. He hurled himself at the animal, unaware of any danger, or fear. All there was was pain, and rage. A rage unlike anything he had ever felt before. Red, dark and terrible.

If the animal hurt him, if its claws made contact with his body, or its teeth, he felt nothing. He tore at it with his own claws, his own teeth biting down through thick fur and skin and into the muscle beneath until his mouth filled with hot blood. He could hear a roaring somewhere – a fierce, ancient roaring that was not for the animal but was for him, belonged to him, was his alone. And there was heat, burning inside his own body, as if he were on fire. But it did not frighten him. Nothing could frighten him any more.

Something hit him hard, in the chest, and he was hurled to the ground with appalling force. His head hit something, and stars exploded in his vision. He struggled to get up, slipping on the wet snow and not knowing what was going on. He could hear something, somewhere. Footsteps, running toward him.

There was no strength left in his body any more. He slumped back down again.

'SKANDAR!'

He knew that voice. 'Father?' he mumbled.

And then he fainted.