A/N: I am so sorry I haven't updated in a while! I had a really, really busy week, and I had chores. I know you are going to hate me for this, but I really wanted to tell you what was going in with Eragon and Roran before they arrived at Helgrind, so that is what I am doing this chapter on. Thank you to all of my reviewers; you guys are awesome! And thanks to all who didn't review, all 750 of you.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Christopher Paolini's epic trilogy. I do, however, own Ora, Mithrim, Vindr, and my plot, so don't steal it!
9: Entrance
It was sunrise, and Roran was again dazzled by the iridescent colors that filled the sky. Today, though, he did not hesitate in waking his brother up. Roran had made the decision to call Eragon his brother that morning before he had gotten off of his pile of blankets. Eragon and he had played together, worked together, and done everything together since Roran could remember. They had been as close as any pair of brothers could be, and Roran had made peace with Eragon's part in Garrow's death.
"Eragon, get up. We have to leave soon if we want to get there by late afternoon or early evening. The more time you waste snoozing is more time Katrina's in those creatures' clutches."
Eragon sat up, a lot more alert than he had been the morning before. His eyes were wide open, and he looked like he had the energy of a five year old.
"Why are you so alert? When I wake up I'm usually groggy. Didn't you used to be a heavy sleeper?" Roran asked, wondering how Eragon could be sleepy one morning and all too excited the next.
"Since I was transformed, I don't need sleep. A trance-like state replaces it. Because I am not completely Elvin, I am in a deeper trance than most elves. I need to be more alert." Eragon explained.
"That explains it," said Roran. Eragon never ceased to amaze him. First, becoming a dragon Rider, then killing a Shade, and finally, being changed by the elves. Roran thought about how much the two farm boys' lives had changed in the past eighteen months. Their world had been confined to Carvahall, the Spine, and occasionally a visit to other small villages. The highlight of their year used to be when the traders came to Carvahall. Now, that life seemed like a distant memory to the two boys.
"Well, we best not tarry, Shadeslayer. Here, Eragon," said Roran, handing his younger cousin a piece of fruit and a hunk of bread. Roran couldn't see how Eragon could live without meat. He knew he couldn't. He bit into his bread and fruit. On this trip he had decided that he would eat what Eragon ate. He wanted to get to know the new Eragon. The blue eyed boy had changed a lot, and not just in body. He was more mature and serious, and Roran hardly knew him from the happy kid that he had lived with on the farm.
When the two boys finished their breakfast, they broke camp. Eragon began to saddle Saphira and pack the blankets and food. Roran doused the remnants of the fire and then helped Eragon with the saddle. When they had finished, they mounted Saphira.
"How did you sleep, Roran?" Saphira asked.
"I slept better than I have in a long time. How about you, Saphira," answered Roran.
"I slept well, Roran. We are almost there. If all goes well, we will have rescued Katrina and be moving back to Surda by tomorrow at sunrise."
"If all goes well. . ." Roran thought to Eragon and Saphira.
"It will, my brother. Soon we will have avenged our father," Eragon said, turning to look at Roran. At that moment Saphira took off, leaving the dry, cracked desert ground far below them.
"You could have given me a little warning before you took off, Saphira," Eragon teased.
"Shall I warn you every time I take a breath?" the dragon teased back.
After this they flew on in silence for five minutes, appreciating the view of the land from above. The Jiet River snaked to the west of Helgrind, a silver streak in the vast reddish brown landscape that was dappled with green. The sun had fully risen and was gloriously shining in the sky. Roran saw that he had been wrong when he thought that the sky was cloudless. From the air he saw that there was a large thundercloud approaching from the East. It was a gray color with a slight bluish tint.
"Great," Roran thought sarcastically to himself. "That's just perfect. Rain is all we need."
At that moment Eragon noticed the enormous thunderhead. The same thought crossed his mind that had crossed Roran's.
"It'll be fine, Roran. We will be sheltered by the inside of Helgrind before the rain starts."
"I hope you're right, Eragon," thought Roran, "I hope you're right."
"What exactly is your plan for entering this massive rock formation?"
"She's got a good point, Eragon. How are we going to get into the Ra'zacs' lair?"
"I can reach out with my mind and feel the space that is empty and, besides, the Ra'zacs have flying mounts, so they probably enter from the top. All we have to do is find the entrance, kill them, and rescue Katrina."
"You make it sound so easy, Eragon, but this is a trap. We already know that. Why else would they take her?"
"Then the best thing to do is fall directly into their trap. They will not underestimate you again, so they will expect you to find another clever way in. If you do what they don't expect, we'll have the element of surprise." Saphira's gentle voice reverberated through Eragon and Roran's heads.
"We have no idea what Galbatorix's plans are. We will just have to use the entrance and hope for the best." Eragon mentally stated.
"Hope for the best? This is my betrothed's life we are talking about!"
"Roran, that's not what Eragon meant. He meant that we will have to wait and see. We have no more control over the situation than you do."
"I guess you're right, Saphira."
"Trust us, Roran. We will do anything and everything we can to rescue her."
"I trust you, I'm just worried."
"You have a right to be, but do not let it distract you. You are no good to Katrina dead," Saphira said sensibly.
"That's true," Roran said, making his thought audible to both Saphira and Eragon.
Since their course of action was decided, the rest of the afternoon was passed enjoying the flight, with occasional small talk to liven things up. Suddenly, a thought occurred to Roran. Eragon had been gone for so long that Roran wouldn't know if his younger cousin had a girlfriend or not. He knew it was kind of rude to ask, but his curiosity was overpowering. Finally, Roran gave in and asked the question,
"Eragon, are you courting someone?"
Eragon seemed to prickle at the remark. His cheeks began to turn a nice shade of crimson and there was fire behind his eyes.
"I'd hoped to be, but it didn't work out," Eragon used telepathy to talk. There was an edge to his voice that was sharper than his new blade. Roran took the hint and dropped the subject, knowing that the wound in Eragon's heart was still fresh. He wondered to himself who his little cousin was in love with. Was she a human, a dwarf, or an elf? He had seen many elves at the Burning Plains, but the one Eragon had looked at was called Arya, if he remembered correctly. She was an Elven princess, and her beauty was stunning to most men, but the place in Roran's heart was filled. The princess had treated the young Rider in a cool, almost cold, manner. She had been civil, but that was the extent of her hospitality towards Eragon and Roran. Roran was deep within his thoughts and didn't notice that it was getting later. It was mid-afternoon, and the sun had cast a warm, golden glow over everything in sight.
A growling noise brought Roran back to reality. It was his stomach. He had not eaten in over six hours and was famished. Eragon reached into a bag that was fastened to the saddle on his right side and pulled out bread, cheese, and a small flask of wine. He was able to carry food with both hands because he had a tight grip with his muscular legs.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, and then Roran broke the quiet by asking a question (this was becoming a habit).
"Eragon, this wine is excellent, but I don't want to be drunk when I rescue Katrina."
"You won't be. The elves squeeze the juice from the grapes that grow wild in Ellesmera. They don't believe in intoxication, so they use spells to remove the alcohol and keep the flavor." Eragon said, amused that his cousin thought that he would really get him drunk before a battle.
"The elves are truly wonderful people, Eragon."
"I agree. They are complex, but wonderful." Eragon replied. There was a sort of softness in his voice that let Roran know that he had been right about the elf.
Knowing about the wine, Roran was able to enjoy it more. It had a delicious flavor that was sweet and cool, and it reminded Roran of the taste of the grapes from whence it came, but it was far better than any grapes that the young man had tasted. Eragon was used to the wine, but it never seemed to get old. The cheese was just plain, salty and yellow. The bread was oat bread from the Vardin's kitchens. It had a slight honey flavor and was moist. Eragon had wrapped it in a damp piece of cloth to keep it so, and it had worked.
They continued to travel, an occasional conversation erupting. Eragon was so glad to be with Roran again. He had missed his cousin terribly while they had been separated, and it was great to know that Roran accepted him. There had been a tiny section of Eragon's mind that was worried that the older boy wouldn't accept his Elven form and his status as a Rider. That section had been silenced as soon as they had talked after the Burning Plains battle.
While Eragon and Roran ate and thought to themselves, and Saphira kept to herself. She had been lost in her own thoughts. Saphira was overjoyed to see Eragon and Roran together again at last. She had known that Eragon had felt guilty about Garrow's death and about leaving Roran to bury their father alone. He hadn't imagined that the Ra'zacs would come to Carvahall and take Katrina. It had been her pain as well to see her Rider suffer. Roran was a noble young man and Saphira had immediately liked him. Part of that was due to the fact that he had smashed the twins' heads in with his hammer, and the other part was for Eragon's sake. Of course, she would have liked him even if he hadn't been Eragon's nest mate because he was a good man. She also was mourning that Thorn was imprisoned by the King, and the other egg might never hatch. Her race was dieing, and she could do nothing about it. Would she ever find a mate?
Saphira was absorbed in these thoughts and flew automatically towards Helgrind, only aware of the sky. The big thundercloud was directly above Helgrind. It was about to let loose a torrent of rain. She didn't even look down, because she knew she would just see more desert.
"Saphira, land on that flat place on top of Helgrind," ordered Eragon. They were so close to getting their revenge, to rescuing Katrina.
"Yes, little one," replied Saphira, circling the mountain. She began to descend, preparing to land.
"Here we go," said Roran, taking a deep breath. He would rescue Katrina in a matter of minutes. He gripped Eragon's waste tighter to prevent falling off of the sapphire dragon.
"Here we go," Eragon and Saphira thought together.
The dragon was twenty feet above the rock face and getting closer. Saphira prepared for the feeling of warm rock on her claws.
Suddenly, Roran felt a presence in his mind. Quickly, he concentrated on the back of Eragon's shirt to block the presence. He forced himself to think only of the fabric, and to keep his thoughts from straying. The strange presence stopped, seeming annoyed and angry.
They were now ten feet from landing. Eragon prepared for the jolt of touching down. It never came. Instead, Saphira's front legs began to sink through the rock.
"Stop!" A voce inside Eragon, Roran, and Saphira's heads yelled as they fell into complete darkness.
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