Hello to all my new subscribers! Kyranos, BikerChik, and Voldanita, the newest members of the crew. Write a review, so I can *kindof* meet you!
To SJade- Hi. Um... I really don't know what to make of your review. You said: "Its very well written, except maybe for a few passages that are bit confusing, and it actually makes sense"... Um...? Explain please? And then you asked if Halia was a joke. Well. No, she's not. None of my characters will ever be jokes. Please sign in or get an account so I can PM you and talk to you more, like about how you said "Murtagh is so falling for her." I need to know how you think Murtagh is falling for her. What made you think that he was?
And to everyone else who reviewed: THANK YOU! I love reading your theories; as soon as I post anything my family can't pull me away from the computer because I'm just on edge about reviews!
Chapter 11: Escape Within Sight
Stumbling forward, Eragon grasped the wall to stop his upward tumble. His speed in the dark- the light was flickering from his weariness- held danger, but adrenaline drove him onward.
"The light ahead! Get him!" One of the magicians cried, his fury echoing on the walls.
Eragon put out his sputtering light and slid against the wall, pressing his back against it and hoping they would not notice him. He took some more energy from the stone- there wasn't much- to support an invisibility spell.
They charged past him, their groping eyes failing to notice him.
As soon as they were out of sight Eragon slid down, taking deep, quiet breaths. He was so tired... just so exhausted...
Saphira.
The thought of her jarred him from his rest and self-pity. What to do? Those cursed magicians were ahead of him now, so-
They could lead him out.
Eragon smiled for the first time in too long, realizing what Fat and Chunky had done. Creeping out of his spot, but retaining his invisibility, he slunk up the hallway and found the two, with several minions, arguing at a three-way fork. Lost- Eragon muttered a curse under his breath. They lost the way.
Chunky, certain he was right, pulled a map out of his cloak and unrolled it for all to see. Eragon planned to snitch it at the first opportunity.
"We go left, I tell you! See- see right here. Left will lead us up to the entryway, and since the Shadeslayer is lost, we can catch him there, before he can leave the mountain."
"But what if he isn't lost?" Fat hissed. "He's been here before when he killed the Ra'zac!"
"He's mindless at this point. No memory whatsoever- or have you forgotten the potion? Wipes the mind of reason? That one? You made it!"
"We don't know if it is totally sucessful!"
"Well then you better hope, because if we lose him, I'm turning you in."
"I've been nothing but your friend, and you dare threat turning me in to the King? What about all the other prisoners you've caught and taken here rather than Uru'Baen? Hmm? Do you think he'd forgive you for that?"
"You're the one who tortures them! I don't even scratch them!"
"Not externally, of course. Your potions kill them!"
"It hasn't killed the Shadeslayer."
"And if it does I'll kill you." Chunky spat.
"You wouldn't dare." Fat heaved.
"Do you need proof?"
They needed no more encouragement. Push came to shove, which escalated into a full-blown magical duel. Helpless, the other soldiers flattened themselves against a wall as their leaders circled each other, hissing like snakes preparing to strike. A blasting shock from one rebounded on the others shield, and the blast broke through the far wall as the magician- Fat, Eragon thought- dove to the side.
Watching from the entryway, Eragon's attention was not on the fighters, but on the map on the far side of the room. Slinking past the magicians along the opposite wall, across from the frozen soldiers, adrenaline roaring in his ears as he feared capture.
Arya. Saphira. Roran. Katrina, and the baby.
The Varden, elves, urgals, dwarves, and dragons.
He couldn't let them down.
For a moment he thought of Murtagh- he couldn't let his own brother down. But Murtagh was the traitor, not Eragon. Thorn, at least, did not deserve his undue punishment.
He couldn't let them down.
Those who had died- Selena, Garrow, Brom, Ajihad, Hrothgar- he couldn't let their deaths be in vain.
He had to escape.
Throwing caution out the preverbial window in his courage, and renewed vigor, Eragon sprinted across the room and caught up the map, charging up the hallway as loose stones scattered everywhere.
"What is that?" One of the soldiers cried, noticing the small avalanche, though it could have gone unnoticed in the magician's storm.
"Sirs, is that the Shadeslayer?" Another asked, his words falling on ears of stone.
"They probably caused it." The third argued. "I'd be surprised if all was still."
"But that's not natural, and I want the reward of catching him. Come, friends! If that is him, by some devilry, he will not pass me unnoticed!"
"But what if its not him, and he comes this way? Then we lose the reward!"
"Not totally- we still have helped those magicians. Come! Follow me!"
Eragon poured on all the speed he had, flying up the dark, winding tunnel. The thud of the soldier's boots echoed on the floor, and abandoning reason, Eragon charged up the darker, more putrid smelling of a fork to hide. Pulling out the map, Eragon dared to peel it open and plan his exit.
It was perfect, everything labeled to a minute detail, even including the conditions of the tunnels themselves. There! The armory was down the hallway he had come and to the right, down another then left, then straight, then up a flight of stairs. Helgrind embodied more than a labyrinth- it was a death trap. Craning to hear the soldiers, Eragon tip-toed back to the fork, looking both ways and daring to extend his mind to find them. They marched not thirty feet ahead of him, up the same hallway he had to use. Another rocking explosion sent him to the ground, cursing coming from three directions.
"It's no use, we'll never be able to find him in here without those magicians. We may as well go back."
"He'll be wanting his sword- the armory is somewhere in this direction."
"Somewhere. Like you'll be able to find it- this place is a maze. Come on, let's go back."
"No! We must find him!"
"We've gotta stay with those magicians, unless you want to rot here, lost in his god-forsaken place."
"I know where I'm going." The second hissed.
"No you don't. I've been here longer than you have."
"So what? I'm the leader here, and I say we're moving on."
"Whoever said that you were the leader? By rights that position is mine!" The first cried, Eragon hearing the sound of a sword being drawn.
"Really?" The second challenged, pulling out his blade.
"Don't fight- we'll never get anywhere if you fight. Come on, we'll flip a coin to decide what to do. Don't fight, dammit! If you two killed each other, what the magicians do to me? Here's a coin. Heads or tails?" A third intervened.
His words were in vain, for the clash of arms met Eragon's ears not a moment later, followed by the grunts of fighting men. The third screamed for them to stop, but ignoring him, the other two continued to duel.
It was the magicians all over again. Eragon, invisible, scurried around them towards the armory, obeying the map. The third soldiers did not notice his passage.
Barreling around a corner, Eragon skid to a halt upon the sight of the armory door. Solid oak, engraved with iron and steel, barred his way. The door lacked a handle, and a rock landed in Eragon's stomach as he realized that he would have to guess the password.
Two minutes passed.
Eight.
Eleven.
The words tumbled from Eragon's lips as he rushed to get through, the blasts in the background becoming fewer and fewer. They had to be after him, he had no more time, he had to escape-
Adrenaline told him to beat the door down, and aiming at the hinges, he blew the gate away, sending it crashing on the floor of the room before him.
The armory extended hundreds of feet in each direction, stones glittering in the floor and ceiling, casting their steady light in each direction. Tables laden with knives and darts took up most of the floor space, while swords, shields, pikes, bows, and spears hung on the walls. Armor on models stood at intervals around the room, empty helmets watching him from the walls.
Where was Brisingr? Where was Aren?
Charging through the room and knocking over various stands as he went, Eragon ran a lap, scanning the room for a glimmer of blue. He found nothing. Wild with anxiety and exhausted from the adrenaline, he summoned the sword and ring with magic.
He fell to his knees as the spell drained his energy, Brisingr and Aren breaking through a wall to obey their master's command. Aren, still imbued with energy, revived Eragon as he slipped it back on his finger, and tightening Brisingr around his hips, he stood and gave the room one final glance, looking for anything that could help the Varden.
He did not see the glimmer of green, hiding in the dark vault where Brisingr and Aren had been stashed.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled a shield from the wall and turned, charging down the tunnel to leave his god-forsaken prison.
Saphira.
He had to find her.
Well...? Everyone has an opinion, so tell me!