Daughter of the Forsworn

by the Lady of the Mists

Chapter Ten: First Flight

Diathí's prediction proved accurate. After a brush with some less than pleasant folks from Daret, Saphira finally got fed up and with Diathí, Muirgen, and Brom watching in amusement, pinned Eragon to the ground, refusing to let him up until he had promised to fly with her the next day.

And if you had any respect for your dragon, then you'd fly with him as well, Saphira threw at Muirgen, who was grinning coyly at the sight in front of her.

"Oh, don't worry, Saphira," Muirgen assured her. "Diathí and I will be right up there with the two of you. If Brom can handle both of us gone, that is," she added, looking at the storyteller.

Brom scratched his beard, but nodded. "I think that we'll be all right without the two of you. Besides, if I need either of you, I can contact you easily enough."

Muirgen rolled her eyes. That man has some secrets that I would love to have answers to. But those questions can wait until after Teirm.

They had made saddles after leaving Carvahall, something that Muirgen had forgotten about until it came time for them to use them. As she climbed up onto her silver dragon, she looked towards Eragon, a roguish smile crossing her face.

"You ready?" she asked.

"No," Eragon sighed, "but let's do it!" Saphira agreed as she roared and propelled herself into the air. Diathí soared after her, his silver wings glinting in the sunlight as they took flight, the wind blowing through her hair as they left the ground below, heading towards the sky.

Muirgen shrieked as he took a dive, swirling around in an awkward angle, but started laughing as she looked around at the world below them. She had spend sixteen years climbing trees so she could see the world at an entirely different angle than the one that people were used to and now she was doing it the way that few people were able to.

"It's so beautiful up here!" she called to Diathí, who nodded. She laughed again as she spread her arms out, allowing them to be propelled by the wind, but seized the saddle as she was almost knocked off of Diathí.

Careful, Diathí warned her, but he was amused. You don't want to lose your balance up here.

No, Muirgen agreed. Where's Saphira and Eragon? She looked around for the pair, and saw them just ahead. The sapphire dragon was concealing herself in a cloud, something that came useful for intruders, she reckoned.

As she held the saddle with two hands, Muirgen looked around, startled, as a flock of birds whizzed by them, whistling as they flew. The entire group looked startled to see them, astonished that a Rider and a dragon were up here, amongst the clouds.

Searching deep within herself, Muirgen found the place where she had spoken with Áine in the ancient language. "Don't mind us!" she called in it. "We mean no harm."

The birds twittered amongst themselves before flying off into the horizon, but one small bird hung back, flying into Muirgen's hands. She allowed it to land on her finger, smiling at it before she sent it back with its family. The tiny swallow was no outsider, like they were. It needed to be at home, with his family. To be an outsider was no life for a little bird.

It seemed like forever since they had first ascended before Brom finally called them down, using the voice of the mind to communicate. Every time that she was presented with more information about this old man, the more she became convinced that he wasn't just some old storyteller from Carvahall. No, she was becoming more and more convinced that he was more than just what he seemed.

"We're coming up on Teirm now," Brom said, pointing ahead of them. "I'm afraid that we can't afford for you two to be seen anymore, Saphira, Diathí," he said respectfully. "They must stay with me until we leave Teirm. Any idea when that might be, girl?" he asked mildly.

Muirgen shrugged. "I don't know. Could be a couple of hours or a couple of days. That really depends on what we find out." To Diathí, she said, Don't worry, we'll be all right. And try to keep out of sight and Saphira from worrying too much about Eragon. I'll keep an eye on him.

Then I'm sure that he will be fine, Diathí said firmly as he rose into the air. Take care, my Rider. With a swish, he took flight into the sky. A moment later, Saphira rose to join him, leaving the three humans behind.

Tossing her Áine's reins, Brom instructed, "Come on, you two, we've still got some ground to cover before we get there. And I'd prefer to get there before dark. They'll close the gates at dusk, which means we'll spend the night camped outside of Teirm, which is something I'd rather avoid."

"So, what happens after we get inside?" Eragon asked as he climbed on Cadoc. "Are we going to stay at a lodge or something?" His blue eyes were focused on the storyteller as he turned around in the saddle of the white stallion he rode.

"No, we'll be staying with an old friend of mine, Jeod. Also, we won't be using our own names while we're in there. I don't want anybody remembering our names. People have the annoying habit of remembering things that they shouldn't."

"So, who will we be?" Eragon questioned. "And will we be telling this friend of yours who we are?"

Brom laughed. "Oh, don't worry about him. He's very loyal, Jeod. Besides, he knows my name and I think I can trust him with you twos. And I will be Neal and you will be my niece and nephew, Evan and Moira. If you slip and say your own name, it won't make much difference, but still, I don't want anybody remembering them."

"We'll be careful," Muirgen assured him. She was pretty sure that she could remember Moira. It was close enough to her own name that she could keep it in her mind.

"So, any idea why exactly your mother is sending us here?" Eragon questioned as they neared Teirm.

Muirgen shrugged. "Who knows? I don't exactly know why she would do anything, because I never got the chance to know her."

Eragon looked at her sharply, reaching out and touching her hand gently. She looked at him and saw the sympathy in his eyes. "I hope that you find what you're looking for here."

She smiled gratefully at him. "I hope so, too," she said softly, her green eyes fastened on his blue ones. "And I think you're going to make a great Rider someday, Eragon. Your uncle would've been proud of you." His fingers slipped through hers and tightened his grip on them.

"Thanks." Eragon's voice was slightly husky. "I think that he would've liked you." He smiled slightly at her before releasing her hand, glancing ahead at Brom. "If it weren't for the old man," he said so only she could hear, "I would kiss you right now."

Muirgen blushed prettily, her pale face suddenly becoming crimson, and she bit her lip in embarrassment. She couldn't help the shy and timid smile that crossed her face as they continued to ride towards Teirm.

And she realised something right then and there, something that she should've realised before.

She was starting to fall in love with Eragon of Carvahall.

--

Brom's friend seemed like a nice fellow, all things considered, but still Muirgen had the distinct feeling that they knew something about her that they weren't sharing. Something about her mother . . . and her father. While he had been reluctant to share any information about her mother, Brom was being downright stubborn about the identity of her father.

The day after they arrived, Brom had some errands to do with Jeod, so Eragon and Muirgen went to go explore the city. They spent hours enjoying each other's company and wandering the various shops that seemed interesting. But finally, they were forced to head back to the merchant's due to lack of food and money.

Muirgen stopped when they reached Angela the herbalist's shop right next to Jeod's. "Come on, let's check this place out," she suggested. Eragon was curious as well, so the pair entered the shop, inspecting the various plants, mortars, bowls, pestles, animals, and balls that covered the shop.

As Muirgen went to inspect some herbs that she recognised, she heard Angela and Eragon's voices carrying over to her. She came back just as Angela was offering to read his fortune.

"I don't need my fortune read," Eragon protested. "Besides, I don't have any money."

Angela glanced at Muirgen and smiled. "He's with you?" she asked. She nodded, catching the look on Eragon's face. "Hmm. Good man, this one."

"Yes," Muirgen answered with a smile. "I know."

"Well, I can read both of yours, if you like. With something that does actually . . . wait a minute," she said quickly, "I'll be right back."

She hurried out of the room so fast that Muirgen almost thought that she flew out, but the herbalist was back in just a few seconds, clutching a leather pouch in her hand. "It's been so long since I've used these, I almost forgotten where they were. Knucklebones of a dragon. Unlike tealeaves, crystal balls, or even divining cards, they are true fortune telling. I will cast them for each of you, if you like."

Eragon glanced at Muirgen, who looked back at him. "I'll have the bones cast," he said at last, looking back at Angela.

Muirgen nodded, feeling as though this was a part of the secret that her mother had mentioned. "So will I." She looked at Eragon. "Do you want me to step outside while yours are read?"

He instantly shook his head. "No. Stay," he answered immediately, taking her hand and pulling her into the seat next to him. Muirgen obeyed, taking a cross-legged position next to her fellow Rider and watching Angela as she began to cast the bones for him. She settled herself down, listening to Eragon's fortune.

"This is one of the most difficult fortunes I've ever done," she said quietly, her voice suddenly carrying a mystical sign. "A long life is what is the most clear. There are many years ahead of you . . ." She moved down the bones, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration and frustration. "There are many choices in your future, some of which you face even now. Great battles rage around you, some fought for your own sake. Might powers of this land struggle to control your will and destiny. Countless possible futures await you, all of them filled with blood and conflict, but only one shall bring you happiness. Beware of losing your way, for you are one of the few who are free to choose your own fate. There is a doom that lies ahead of you, part of it in death, and your fate will be forever to leave this land."

Eragon's face looked a bit uneasy as he thought about this. Muirgen squeezed his hand tightly as Angela turned to the next piece of a very complex puzzle. "Now, this is a bit more pleasant. An epic romance, an extraordinary one and strong enough to outlast empires. It is unclear whether or not this will end happily, but your love is of noble birth and heritage. She is powerful, wise, and beautiful beyond compare."

Muirgen felt her breath caught and both she and Eragon exchanged a look. She was pretty sure that they were both thinking the same thing: was the girl that Angela spoke of Muirgen . . . or someone else?

"Now, this last part somewhat grim, I'm unhappy to say," Angela continued, unaware of the two Riders' concerns. Her face was grave. "A betrayal is clear. And I'm afraid, dear boy, that it will come from someone within your own family."

"Roran wouldn't do that!" Eragon protested.

"I wouldn't know," Angela admitted, taking a sip of her drink. "But the bones have never lied and that is what they say."

Eragon looked slightly unnerved, but accepted the drink that she offered him. While the blond Rider recovered from his reading, Angela looked towards Muirgen.

"Now . . ." she said softly. "Would you like me to read your fortune, young lady? Or would you rather have the future be unknown?"

Muirgen glanced at Eragon, a bit worried by his fortune. But . . . this was her chance, her only chance, to find the truth where others would not give it.

Closing her eyes, Muirgen said the words that she would later regret. "Cast the bones."

And she didn't look up, even as Angela said the mystical words of power or the sounds of the bones clattering against the table. She only listened.