Chapter 36: Wounds Run Deep

I felt like my heart was about to burst open from my chest. How much more can I have dumped on me in one day? First Murtagh, and now Gregorio... It was all becoming too much for me to handle.

"Hello, sister," he hissed, draping his arm lazily over the dragon throne and smirking at me slightly. It was frightening to me how much he mirrored our father.

"You!" I screamed, coming forward a bit to climb the steps up to the dais. Murtagh was suddenly in front of me, holding me by the arm with an iron grip.

"Don't do this, Tabatha," he whispered desperately in my ear.

"Don't touch me!" I jerked away from him and stepped back down onto the marble floor. His grey eyes were pleading with me, but all I felt for him at this moment was scorn. "You have all betrayed me! I want nothing to do with you!" Murtagh made to say something, but then clamped his mouth shut and climbed back up to the dais, settling in front of his dragon.

"I needed someone inside the Varden to watch over you," Galbatorix said. "To strike at the opportune moment."

"So it was you that attacked me under Farthen Dûr?" I looked at Gregorio only to feel a mounting hatred boiling in my chest.

"Yes," he replied with a smirk. "I meant to hand you over to the Twins so both you and Morzan's son could be brought back here, but I was overrun by Urgals before I could take you to them. By the time I fought my way through, the battle was over and my opportunity was lost. I didn't realize it would be so long before I had another chance, but your glorious reveal of Murtagh provided the perfect opportunity. You never even saw me coming!" He threw back his head in laughter, and I once again wished that I had some sort of weapon to slice his neck open. How many more were going to betray me in my lifetime?

"I trusted you," I seethed. "I thought you were my friend. Is Gregorio even your real name?"

"Of course not, you stupid girl," my brother replied. The king smirked slightly, both hands folded beneath his chin. "I am Prince Léod, future king of the Broddring Empire. And you will serve me after our father is gone, just as this Rider and all others after him will." My head was pounding; I didn't know how much more of this I could take.

"I believe my daughter is tired from her long journey," Galbatorix intoned, standing from his seat. "Murtagh, escort her back to her room." I saw Murtagh stiffen slightly, but he stepped off the dais dutifully and walked past me. His dragon turned and disappeared through the archway, and my father and brother were locked in conversation. Whatever other answers I wanted to get out of them, they would have to wait.

We exited the throne room and Murtagh walked ahead of me down the hall, never once turning back to look. When we came back to the arcade around the courtyard, I sped up to get in front of him.

"I can find my own way," I growled. He stopped walking but did not attempt to stop me, so I left him there, standing helplessly staring after me.

I kept my head buried in the soft pillow, willing all of this to go away. Everything had turned upside down on me, and the only way I knew to handle it was to lock myself away. Every now and then, I would feel a slight pressure on my mind. I recognized it as Murtagh's consciousness, but I shut him out behind my iron hard barriers. There was no one in the world—besides Galbatorix and Léod—that I wanted to speak to less. What I really wanted right now was to see Eragon. But that was a folly; in all likelihood, I would never see him again.

A serving girl came to my room about midday, asking me if I wanted something to eat. I refused her, owing my lack of appetite to the knot in my stomach. I feared that if I ate anything I would just bring it back up later. She bowed meekly and then scurried out of the room, seemingly afraid. But I paid her no mind; I preferred to be alone right now.

Eventually though, I knew I needed to get out of the bed. It would do me no good to mope about. If my aim was to escape, I needed to start working on a plan. With a heavy heart and even heavier legs, I crawled out of the bed and sidled over to the window. I didn't know who could be watching, but I didn't want to take any chances. The light outside was quickly fading, and the warm orange light of dusk was bathing the city in a hazy glow. From up here, it was a beautiful sight to see, but I could not stay locked in this tower forever. Cautiously, I went over to the huge door that led into the hallway and cracked it open. The guards were still there, but they did not turn their heads at my arrival. I ventured out into the hallway but they made no move to stop me, so I hurried down the corridor and out of their sight.

It was truly a vast place, and I got turned around a couple of times, but soon found my way back down the tower to the courtyard. There were far fewer people here than there were this morning, but I liked it that way. My eyes shifted skyward and I gazed up at the wall encasing the courtyard. Armored guards patrolled the battlements, hands gripped tightly on their spears and crossbows. Clearly, I would not be escaping through this avenue. And I couldn't imagine the main gates were any less heavily guarded. If I was to get out of here, I would need help from someone on the inside. Certainly not Murtagh; my father had control of him, body and mind. And then I saw him...

As Evander came strolling around the corner I ducked behind a yew bush, scattering a couple of robins that had been residing there. Through the thick leaves, I saw Evander stop and watch the birds fly away, and then peer back at the bush, narrowing his eyes to look through the leaves. He was going to see me! What do I do? Before I had more time to fret, a man called from down the path, drawing Evander's attention away from me. He smiled and raised a hand in greeting to whoever the man was, and then continued on down the path. I breathed a sigh of relief and then cautiously made my way back onto the gravel. Then I made my way through the winding paths to the opposite side of the arcade. When I looked down the lane, I noticed an opening at the far end that led into a practice yard, and I started to make my way towards it. But as I drew closer, a figure stepped out of the shadows to halt me in my steps.

"Galion!" I exclaimed at the sight of the pale man. He smiled broadly, but I couldn't help feeling in my gut that it was false.

"Good evening, Your Highness," he said cheerily. "You seem lost. Is there somewhere I can help you find?" It dawned on me then that he had been instructed to watch me.

Quick as lightning, I said, "Actually, yes. I was searching for the library and can't seem to find it."

He quirked his head to the side a bit, the way that a dog would. "Are the books in your room not pleasing to you, Princess?"

"They are, thank you. But there is a particular book I am looking for that was not in my chambers. If you would direct me to the library, I'm sure I could find it there," I stated firmly. If I was going to be treated like a noble, then I had better start acting like one. He smirked slightly at my show of authority, but then acquiesced, turning slightly and sweeping his arm to gesture for me to follow him.

We turned down a breezeway that connected two of the buildings which made up the castle, and then down a wide hallway to stop before huge double doors of wood painted blue. Galion pulled on the handles and then ushered me inside. All about me were rows and rows of books, flying up to the ceiling high above. Ladders adorned the shelves, set into tracks so they could be easily moved, and there was a wide gallery littered with sofas and chairs and tables up above. A huge golden chandelier hung from the wooden ceiling, casting a warm light on the whole room. And before us, seated behind a dark oak desk, was a man of middling age, with graying brown hair and a salt and pepper mustache and goatee. He smiled at our arrival as Galion walked over to him.

"Good evening, Master Tobias," he said, bowing slightly at the waist. The librarian—for that was the only thing I could think this man was—inclined his head and then looked over to me. "May I present her Royal Highness, the Princess Tabatha. She has only just returned to us from Kuasta, and is in search of a certain volume. Perhaps you could assist her?"

"Of course!" he exclaimed, bounding up from his plush, high-backed chair to come around where we were standing. He bowed deeply and took hold of my hand, kissing it lightly. "Your Highness, what an honor it is to finally meet you. When your lord father sent you away at such a tender age, we were most heartbroken. And what a tragedy, to hear of your mother's passing." What in the world was he talking about? I hesitated slightly, but knew it would do no good to ask questions.

"Thank you, for your condolences," I said timidly, hoping this answer would not give away my ignorance. He straightened up and smiled at me warmly, then turned to Galion and thanked him before the pale man turned and left. Once he was gone, I felt like I was no longer being watched, but not that I was completely safe. "Well, Your Highness, what can I help you find today?"

I panicked for a moment because I hadn't thought that far ahead, but quickly got my wits about me. "Could you direct me to the history section? I don't exactly remember the title of the volume I seek, but I'm sure I'll know it when I see it."

"May I ask what the subject was? Perhaps I can narrow it down?" This man's helpfulness was beginning to irritate.

"Something about the kings of old and their family histories," I replied dismissively, hoping the answer was vague enough to throw him off.

"That could be any number of tomes, Your Highness," he laughed as we ascended the stairs to the upper gallery. "Of course, there's A History of Alagaësia; The Kings of the Second Age; Rulers and Ancestors; Ancients of the North... Do any of those sound familiar to you?"

I gave him a slight chuckle. "Honestly, I can't remember." We turned the corner to a small passage and then into a section of several bookshelves, crammed close together. Behind the shelves was a small sitting area next to an empty hearth.

"This is the history section, Your Highness," Master Tobias said amiably, stopping at the very edge of the stacks. "I shall leave you to it then?"

"Thank you very much for your help, Master Tobias. I shall call on you if I require further assistance." He smiled and then bowed once more before leaving me alone amidst the shelves. Once he was gone, I breathed a sigh of relief and took in my surroundings. There certainly was no escape route here, but it would be a nice place to come for a respite if I needed one. I went over to the sitting area and peered out the small window down into the practice yard, watching as the men sparred or practiced their archery. I longed to be down there among them, if only to prepare for the day when I would kill my father. At this point, that was all I wanted to do.

Behind me, I heard the sudden shift of the floor and the creaking of the boards against one another. I whirled around as I sensed the presence of another, and came face to face with a nightmare. My breath caught in my throat, and I couldn't think of what to say.

"Tabby..." Murtagh breathed, staring at me intently. Whatever he'd thought to say afterwards, he clearly decided against it.

"I don't want to talk to you," I whispered, losing whatever resolve I had before. "Please... just go..." I turned away from him, leaning against the window sill and squeezing my eyes shut. I heard him walk closer to me, the wooden floor creaking beneath his weight.

"Listen to me," he said firmly. "Just let me explain what has happened." He placed a hand around my arm but I whirled around to break free of his grasp.

"I won't listen, whatever it is. I won't be poisoned by your lies." He looked hurt, but I didn't care. I wanted him to feel the betrayal I had experienced upon learning he was still alive.

"They aren't lies, Tabatha. Just let me explain!"

"Save your breath," I spat. "Unless you would tell me why you betrayed me to my father, I don't want to hear it."

"I never betrayed you to him!" he said, raising his voice to an alarming level. "He forced me to join him when Thorn hatched for me and he learned our true names. And I didn't attack you out there on the battlefield. That was your brother. Every step of the way, I tried to resist Galbatorix, and you were the only thing to give me the strength to do it. Tabatha... you saved me..."

"Leave me be," I snapped, turning my face away. The sight of him was making the knot in my gut grow tighter.

He only stepped closer, so that our bodies were nearly touching. "What should I have done? What would you ask of me?"

"I want to be free of you," I whispered, "the way that you are so obviously free of me."

"How can you say that!"

"You betrayed me! Anyone who claims to love another would never do that." His brow furrowed in anger, and I was afraid for a moment that he would strike me.

"If anyone is a traitor here, it's you, Tabatha!"

"What?" I asked incredulously, my mouth hanging agape at his sudden accusation.

"How long did you wait before running off to Eragon?" he seethed. "How long before you forgot me? Did you go to him in the same hour, or wait a whole week out of respect for the dead?"

I slapped him then across the face, losing all sense in my rage. "I died that day!" I screamed. When he turned back to look at me, a swollen red mark upon his cheek, I held up my wrist so he could see it. And as he saw what was there, I watched his demeanor change completely. There, wrapped about my wrist, was the braided string bracelet he'd given me so long ago. It was a little more frayed and worn than it had been before, but it was still the same. "I told you that day I would never take it off, and I never have. I wear this to remind myself of the old Murtagh; the one that I loved and lost. But he's gone now, and only a monster stands before me."

Without waiting for a reply, I pushed past his broad shoulder and ran out of the library, not even caring when Master Tobias asked me what was wrong. And as I burst through the doors, Galion was waiting patiently in the hall, that same unnerving smile plastered on his features.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked.

I wiped a single tear away as it slid down my cheek. "No, I did not. It seems the king's collection is not as vast as I had thought."

"A pity," he replied shortly. "Your father has summoned you. Come." I followed wordlessly as we traversed the corridors again, passing by servants and nobles alike. But this time, instead of going to the throne room, we delved deeper into the castle, going down flight after flight of stairs until we reached an area that was full of vaults. The circular doors were embedded deep into the walls, and each was guarded by two Imperial soldiers. At the end of the dank hallway, a much larger door was guarded by ten men, each of them as tall as steeples and thickly muscled. In front of them stood my father.

"Welcome, daughter," he said, smiling slightly. It disgusted me to be so close to him, but I knew I had no choice. When I didn't reply, he turned and the guards parted. With a wave of his hand and a few muttered words, the circular stone door slowly groaned open. Inside it was dimly lit, and I couldn't make out what was there. My father went inside the vault and Galion and I followed behind. The air inside was thick and close, nearly suffocating me. But Galbatorix didn't seem to be affected. The room itself was circular, but not very big. Sconces lined the walls, casting a dim orange light over everything, and in the middle of the room were three pedestals. A white light shone down from above, illuminating the dark marble. The two pedestals on the side were empty, but the one in the middle held something that stole my breath away. It looked very much like Saphira's egg, but instead of brilliant sapphire, it was a dark emerald green. The light of the torches shone off its polished shell, highlighting the silver veins that traversed its surface. So this was it... The last dragon egg in existence...

"It's so beautiful," I whispered, stopping just short of the pedestal. Galbatorix smiled slightly and then peered over at me.

"Touch it," he said simply. My heart dropped into my stomach. The air around me began to buzz strangely, and my eyes went wide. Something strange was going on here. My head started to feel heavy, and my eyes were fluttering open and closed. Seemingly against my will, my feet started moving forward and I reached out my hand. I wanted to scream, but found that my voice had been stolen from me. And before I knew what was happening, my hand was caressing the smooth shell of the egg.

"Stop it!" I yelled, finally finding my voice. I didn't want this! I couldn't! I can't serve him! My hand stayed stuck there for another moment before I finally pulled away. My father watched me intently, scrutinizing my face as I began to cry. Meanwhile, my anger was welling up inside me, beginning to take form in my powers. I wanted to scream and hit something and destroy. And before I knew what was happening, the fire in the sconces flared up around the room, shooting towards me in jets of flame and snaking around my hands and wrists. I felt the power of the flames coursing through my body, and I shot them toward my father, bathing him in light and heat. When the flames subsided, I saw that he was unharmed, protected by his wards, but it felt good to show him what I could do. That I would not be so easily cowed...

"Wonderful!" he suddenly exclaimed, a wide smile upon his face. "Power over the elements... how intriguing. I never saw that from your mother. Now we shall have to wait and see what else you can do."

"I will never join you," I seethed.

"You will find, daughter, that you do not have a choice in the matter." My eyes blazed in anger, but he just continued to smile. "In one week's time, I am hosting a masque ball, in which you will make your debut to society, as will your brother. I expect you to be on your best behavior. Murtagh will be there, so you will socialize with him as well. Is that understood?"

"I refuse," I said defiantly, recalling the unpleasant memory of our meeting in the library.

"It amuses me to see that you think you have any choice in what you do here," he laughed. "Be pleasant with the Rider, or suffer the consequences. It's up to you, really." He turned away, walking towards the door before throwing another comment over his shoulder. "Oh, and stop dressing like a peasant. You are a princess now. It's time you started acting like one." Then he strode out of the vault, leaving me alone with Galion to wonder at what had just happened.

Léod's POV

Father joined me in his study, bursting through the door with a triumphant smile upon his face. Jealousy blazed within me, but I didn't let it show on my face. Even if the green egg had not hatched for me, that wasn't to say it would hatch for my sister.

"How did it go?" I asked disinterestedly, flipping through a small volume off of his shelves.

"Wonderfully!" he exclaimed. "Your sister is extremely powerful. I am confident the egg will hatch for her." My chest tightened but I did not respond.

"And our other plan?"

"She is obviously upset with Murtagh."

"I overheard an argument they had in the library," I continued, dishing out the valuable piece of information I'd been keeping to myself all day. "The Rider still believes she was involved romantically with Eragon, just as I told him. It seems like he hates her for it. And she believes Murtagh betrayed her to you. The pieces are falling into place perfectly."

"The success of this plan depends upon keeping them separated, Léod. We must drive another wedge further between them." He plopped down behind the desk, looking deep in thought.

I pondered this for a moment, twisting my mouth slightly. "I think I know just how to do that," I seethed, letting a wicked smirk spread across my face.

Note: The prince's name is pronounced LAY-ahd.