A/N: Revised 14/7/19

Next chapter is the battle one, which shouldn't need much revision in terms of plot, so it should be up very soon!

⸶⸷

Four days later, late evening

"We are a little ahead of schedule," Arya said, her shoulders set high and rigid as she sat on a tree root and looked around at them all. "We need arrive only by tomorrow night, and we have hardly half a day's flight more ahead of us. We can afford to rest tonight, and prepare ourselves for the morrow. Dragons especially, do not exert yourselves unduly - you have been flying nearly constantly since we left. Drink plenty of water, catch something small, perhaps a boar or some such, or share a stag with someone else." An early owl called from the trees, and Arya allowed the eerie cry to fade into silence before continuing. "Before we disperse to forage and make camp, shall we go over the entire plan one last time?"

There was a low murmur of assent, and Zelíe could not help but notice that even the elves seemed unnaturally tense as they leaned forward to listen.

"We attack as close to noon as we can manage. Galbatorix was clear about the existence of more Ra'zac eggs, and though the battle will happen underground we will have the advantage if we can lead them up to the light. It may not be possible, however, so do not depend upon that. The dragons should also be wary of attacks by Lethrblaka and perhaps more such creatures. As for any soldiers she may have amassed, they are likely to be painless - the laughing dead. Remember to be sure to decapitate or cut open major arteries when you fight. That she somehow seems to be able to control how minds interact, at least to a certain extent, means that we must keep our mental defenses ready to throw up at a moment's notice if we are to deny her entrance. This also means that, when we encounter magicians, we will be unable to enter into mind-duels. It is dangerous, but you must cast your spells instantly, silently, and kill without a moment's hesitation without being drawn into a prolonged battle. I am aware that it goes against all established rules of magical combat, but we have no choice. If at all possible, leave the magicians to us älfakyn.

"And there is the matter of the Name of Names not working. What this means for how magic will work, I cannot tell - in the end, brute strength and energy will be our fallbacks. The Eldunarya will support us as much as they can, with energy and insight. Again, be sure to fight fiercely and fight briefly. We want to conclude this battle as soon as possible. Caspian and Akhtar will immediately move to protect the children, if they are present, and Yaela, Dara, and Ellaer will move to where Eragon and Saphira are, to prevent them from being used as hostages. You five will also be in a position to observe the battlefield, and so you may give us warnings or advice on where to move next, if you can, along with the Eldunarya. Since we cannot use our minds to communicate in her presence, we will perform spells to increase sensitivity of hearing and volume of the voice and speak to each other thus. This is also how we will coordinate our approach before the battle. The location is an abandoned outpost of this empire, in ruins and overgrown, but there will be guards posted outside to inform her of our arrival. We will approach in all silence, using the surrounding forest as cover. Six dragons will fly overhead to attract their attention, while the rest of us dispatch them on the ground. There will be a way downwards - we will descend, we will attack, and we will win. That is all. Any questions?"

There were none, and they soon dispersed. A light meal was quickly made and distributed, and they all settled to sleep while the last of the dusk was yielding to the night. They would have an early start, and the more rest they had, the better shape it would leave them in.

Yet sleep would not come. Zelíe stared sightlessly at the sky above, her thoughts running the same, tired track - what the battle would be like, if she would be able to kill as effectively and quickly as was required, what shape her teachers would be in, what shape the children would be in, what forced they might possibly encounter . . .

"All right, Zel?" Dara murmured, curled up on her left.

"Can't sleep."

"Nor can I. Was reviewin' lists of spells before, like a couple of the others, but it made me more nervous, I think. You . . . ever killed before?"

"Strangely enough, no - I didn't get much of an opportunity, living in Belatona."

Dara snorted, amused. "Right."

"At least you used to hunt regularly."

"I - doubt it'll help all that much. When it's a person, it's - the thought of it is -"

"Mm. I know."

" . . . It's worryin' all of us, I think."

"Except Osra, yes?"

"Ah . . . yeah, she gave me some advice, before."

"What did she say?"

"Well . . . that it needs to be done, and goin' round and round about it will serve no purpose, and it doesn't - doesn't make us bad people. The enemy made this necessary, not us, and we've no choice but to do our duty. And she said -" She gave a huff of laughter. "She said please never even think about mercy or hesitation, because they won't, and she would rather all the Riders come through this with our lives intact, if not necessarily our bodies."

Zelíe had to smile. "Did that help you?"

"A little. You?"

"Maybe a little, yes."

"We've resources and weapons and power Master Eragon would have given his left arm for, during the war, and we've trained so hard, so . . . I doubt it will be half as difficult as it was for him. Or I hope, at least. I suppose this is our true test, in a way. And - I think we owe it to him to pass with flyin' colours."

Zelíe sighed quietly, tugging her blanket higher over her shoulders. "You're right, I know. And I'll do my best. But logic does not combat fear."

"I'm aware."

"Mm . . . we should sleep, I think, before the dragons return."

"Aye. Night, then."

"Good night."

When she turned onto her side, it was to meet Kitai's soft gaze, half-lidded and hazy with approaching sleep. He reached out to curl his hand around her wrist, warm fingertips pressed against her pulse, and - well, the fear of hurting and killing and hurt friends and spilling blood would not be washed away so easily, but it receded enough to allow her to sink into slumber.

After all . . . she was fairly certain that she would not be sleeping well for many nights to come.

⸶⸷

Somehow, five massive dragons crawling through the forest with thrice that number of two-legs on their backs made about the same noise as a herd of deer, and yet it surprised no one. They had landed half an hour ago while the rest continued ahead at a sedate pace, and had moved fast enough that they caught sight of the outpost when the other six's wingbeats were just beginning to be heard. There had been one Ra'zac, who scuttled between the shadows of the ruins and screeched horribly when Nelim thrust his lance through its heart, and fifteen guards immune to pain. They were made quick work of, even if more than one Rider had been unusually pale after the last one had stopped twitching. They had all had quite strong mental defenses, and unfortunately those attacking had been too distracted trying to kill before being killed to attempt to break their minds.

Three elves then fanned out, searching for any magical traps and triggers around the place, and found none. By the time the other six dragons had landed, those on the ground had combed the entirety of the building and found nothing but dust.

They had then congregated in the main hall. Dragon saddles had been unbuckled and stacked neatly, weapons had been checked, last minute prayers had been muttered, the dragons had rolled their shoulders and bared their teeth in anticipation. Then Arya had spoken the password given to her, and the entrance underground had opened.

They had only been able to stare in silence for the first minute or two, for it was a massive, yawning hole with broad, shallow steps that led down into pitch darkness, large enough to admit two full grown dragons walking side by side. There were large claw marks gouged into the stone, certainly large enough to have been made by Lethrblaka. It was a grim, forbidding thing, and even the dragons had not been all too eager to enter.

But enter they had, after checking for traps and triggers one last time, and so they descended now into ever deepening darkness. The dragons' claws clicked on cool stone rhythmically, the sound muffled by a quick spell, and if they had not had far better vision than everyone save the elves they would have slipped or bumped into the curving walls more than once, for it was pitch dark.

The staircase gently spiraled downwards for close to an hour, taking them deeper and deeper into the earth. There was just about space for the smallest dragons, Corinne and Drëya, to flap their wings, but certainly not for Mánya and Jethran, and the sound would carry far in the closed, still air. So the dragons continued on foot, and eventually they began to scent cooler air coming from a wider space. The darkness began to lighten just a little.

"Nearly there," Arya whispered, her voice easily audible to even those at the back. "Tailor the hearing sensitivity spells to apply only to allies now - they will hinder us in battle if they remain general in application. There does not seem to be a force gathered immediately ahead; proceed with caution. Remember the plan, fight calmly and without faltering. We will win this. May the stars watch over you all."

There was no time to reply before Fírnen proceeded forward. The other dragons followed, snarls settling around their snouts and tails twitching, and together they passed through the entrance to a massive cavern. Large enough to compare to Tronjheim, the curving walls faded into the distant darkness, dotted with other entrances to huge, winding tunnels. The air was cold enough to bite at all exposed skin with a vengeance, and the soft sound of water dripping down stone was the only sound to be heard. Some distance ahead, towards the middle of the cavern, glimmered a faint pool of light.

They spread out as they approached, Fírnen in the lead with five dragons flanking him on either side; a sight that could not but strike fear into the hearts of the strongest army. There was no longer any attempt to keep silence. The cavern was seemed empty of any large forces save for the living beings clustered near the light - attacks on eleven dragons by anything less than an army would be the height of foolishness, besides - and so they advanced rapidly towards the lanterns, that they would find and fight their enemy as soon as possible. Though everyone had erected solid walls around their minds, it was evident to all that bloodlust and menace radiating from the dragons was increasing steeply by the second.

Given the speed of their advance, it was hardly a minute before their adversary came into sight. Surrounded by bright lanterns mounted on tall stands, she lay lounging on a stone throne that had been set upon a roughly hewn boulder. Her clothes were ill-fitting and unkept, her hair tangled, her collarbones throwing sharp shadows across her skin. She showed not a single hint of discomfiture at seeing eleven dragons where she had expected six, an uncomfortable signal that no one missed.

A short man was crouched at her right hand, seeming almost hunchbacked. He grinned to himself and rubbed his hands together as he watched them approach. On her left stood a well built, bare chested man with black hair that cascaded down his back. He bore a sword, a shield, and a spear that he held with the ease that comes only of long familiarity. His expression was one of faint distaste. On the rough steps that led up to the woman's throne was curled a young girl, whose dirty dress blended almost perfectly with the grey-black stone. She was hugging her shoulders tightly, forehead pressed against her knees, and did not look up at their approach.

"Welcome," the woman called, lazily slinging a leg over one arm of the throne.

The dragons all crouched at her echoing voice, ready to spring, and there was the scrape of steel as weapons were instantly drawn.

Her smile widened slowly. "My, my, so hostile," she said softly. "I see you managed to defy my instructions, Queen Arya, but I suppose things will be quicker this way, if a tad messier. You may call me Siska. It is such a pleasure to finally meet you all."

"Eragon and Saphira," Arya snapped. "Where are they?"

"Why, here." She motioned with a careless finger, and a cluster of lanterns to her right burst into flame, illuminating a crude enclosure. Inside were Eragon and Saphira, both lying unconscious, as well as the twenty-odd children, dressed in rags and huddled as far away from the throne as possible.

"They're only unconscious, älfa, you have no need to look so fierce. And this, this is about you all, not them." She leaned forward a little, resting her chin in one palm. "Your dragon is a beautiful thing - Fírnen, isn't it? All of you are such lovely, lovely creatures. You know, the first dragon I ever saw was Shruikan, black Shruikan with the icy eyes. Bigger by far, and certainly awe-inspiring, but seeing all of you arrayed so neatly, well . . . You are without doubt far more pleasant to the eye and mind than that mindless beast ever was."

"We have no interest in hearing anything you have to say," Arya snarled. "Give them all to us, and this may still end without bloodshed."

"When you have come all this way? Now, wouldn't that be a pity?" The light in Siska's eyes was approaching something feral. "I don't think so, älfa. I am so looking forward to seeing how you will tackle my forces, after all. I've bided my time for years, suffering grandiose fools and petty idiots with no scope of vision, all yammering about revenge for the Black King and revenge upon the Shadelsayer when they hadn't the sense to run a fish stall. Fools all, just like the old king. I've amassed allies even he would covet, and it will please me to see you take your chances with them."

She snapped her fingers, and her army began to step out of the darkness from behind the throne.

The stench of rotting meat was suddenly overpowering as several Lethrblaka came forward, ugly beaks gleaming in the light as they shrieked. Twice that number of Ra'zac scuttled between their feet, hooded and bow legged. And behind them came scores of the most malformed creatures it was possible to imagine - pure black eyes, short snouts, crooked limbs, patches of rough fur, long strings of slaver dripping down from between crooked yellow teeth onto sharp claws as they loped forward on their hind legs. They looked utterly rabid. The picture they all presented together was enough to force more than one Rider to stifle rising retches.

After all of these marched a good-sized squadron of ill-assorted humans - men and women, carrying everything from whips to maces to daggers, some eager, some apprehensive, some stoic, but all determined, and all almost certain to be immune to pain. And behind them -

"Morgothal protect us," Ravûn whispered into the cold air, and Akhtar touched the tips of his horns with shaking fingers.

It was a Tsuhei, of the same class of creature as the Nïdhwal, born of caves and the earthy dark instead of the deeps of the ocean. It growled deep in its throat, eyes rolling as it looked down at them. Massive quills rustled angrily on its back, quills that an Urgal could have used as a spear, and stocky limbs rippled with muscles under pale, lichen-spotted skin. The head was vaguely frog-like, the eyes red and deep-set and almost glowing in the dim light. The size was hard to comprehend at first, but as it crawled forward there was more than one dismayed exclamation to be heard from the Riders. Four full-grown dragons could sit arrayed comfortably on its back with still room for more. Blunt, black claws clicked ominously on the stone, and four rows of sharp teeth gleamed in the faint light as it snarled silently.

Few were even aware of the existence of such a creature as the Tsuhei, for much of its time was spent slumbering peacefully in deep caves underground. It was not malevolent like the Nïdhwal, and even if its territory was trespassed upon it would not rouse itself beyond a warning growl unless the intruder themselves wandered into its reach. Once roused, however, its rage was a force to be reckoned with - as many dragons who had inadvertently irritated its weak eyes and light-sensitive skin with their fire had discovered to their fatal cost. A soft underbelly was its weakness; but it could project its quills surprising distances, it was strong enough to break through even dwarf-engineered defenses, and its teeth were sharp enough to cut a thread laid upon them. It had always been considered to be a dangerous and certainly untameable creature.

Which was why, when Nina said "It is wearing a bridle," in soft, horrified tones, there was no one who could quite stifle their gasp of shock. And when the person holding the reins leaped down to the ground, even Blödhgarm cursed viciously under his breath.

It was a woman. She wore a black hooded cloak that fell to her ankles and black boots; as she walked forward her every step seemed to radiate power. When she was well within range of the light, she removed her hood, shook out her long blood-red ponytail, and gave them a grin that displayed her pointed teeth. Her maroon eyes burned with anticipation, and she drew her sword almost lazily as her hungry gaze flitted across their faces.

"Lovely, isn't she," Siska said softly, clearly enjoying the way her opponents were now crouched tensely, huddling to form a strong defense. "She's still quite young for a Shade, but oh, the things she can do . . . she's been rather circumscribed with me here, I'm afraid, but I hope you can show her a good time."

Arya stepped forward, sword raised and emerald eyes burning with an all-consuming fire. "Make no mistake, we will not leave before all of you cease to draw breath. It may have taken the world a century to rid itself of the Black King, but he perished in the end - as will you too, now."

"Kindly do not bring him into this, älfa," Siska sighed. "He was a power mad fool. I want no part of his ambitions. I never did. And your declaration is all very fine and spirited . . . but I'm afraid I have one more piece of rather bad news for you."

"And what is that?"

She smiled, regal as a queen and savage as a rabid dog. "Within these walls, you cannot use magic. I'm sure you älfakyn will afford me much entertainment quite shortly as you struggle to fight my pets without it."

"You lie," Arya snapped. "You lit the lanterns with magic yourself not five minutes ago. And why would you then keep Eragon and Saphira drugged, if they do not pose a magical threat?"

"Simply because it is more convenient for me. They were being such nuisances - the Tsuhei, in particular, did not take to Saphira's antics at all. And I said you cannot use magic, not that I could not. Ah, such patent disbelief on your face! I am hurt at this lack of faith in me. But you need not believe my word - you will find out for yourself soon enough."

She raised one hand above her head and gave a raw, mighty shout that echoed off even the far distant walls. The Tsuhei began to lumber forward, and the mass of assorted creatures at its feet rushed forward with furious, bloodcurdling cries. The hunched man on Siska's right cackled shrilly, almost capering on the spot in his glee, and the other man closed his eyes wearily as the tide rushed onward. The Riders, elves and dragons roared in defiant response and raised their weapons high - more than one terrified, but all determined that if this cavern was to become their grave, they would take at least a score of enemies with them.

And so was battle joined.