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George's dragon eyes narrowed at the tall, beardless bald man before him. He also had a dagger sheathed at his waist. His cold, dark eyes locked with George's eyes and the silver-scaled dragon felt a mental probe and quickly threw up his strong mental defences and made it clear this man's mind wasn't welcome in his. The man's lips parted in a sneer. "Now, now, my friend, there is no need for such defensiveness."
Do not speak to me like I am a mindless animal, mage. George growled, his draconic lips pulling up a little to reveal his teeth. He really did not like this man, something about him rubbed George the wrong way and he didn't like people who give him that feeling. Try to enter my mind again... And it will not end well for you.
The mental probe halted, but the man's cold sneer remained. "I cannot be sure of your intentions without checking your mind first. I only know of one dragon and three eggs in existence. Where did you come from, dragon?"
That is of no concern to you. All you need know is I am here seeking sanctuary in the Varden. Are you them? George asked.
"Perhaps, but how does a wild dragon know of such things? You could be working with the Empire-" the bald mage was cut off by another growl from the silver-scaled dragon who bared his teeth, he nearly smirked at the unease in the man's eyes.
I'd watch your tongue less I remove it from your mouth. George warned coldly as his cold brown eyes stared the mage down My patience wears thin, if I was working for the Empire, you would be dead by now. Now I'll ask again... Are you the Varden?
"I will not answer your question until you tell me who you are and where you come from, dragon." Another growl came from George as cold brown eyes stared into the cold, dark eyes. Neither willing to back down when a new voice spoke up.
"Barzul! Has the magic affected your brain, spellcaster?!" George looked to see a new man approach, well he was smaller than the tall spellcaster before him. He was no taller than George's elbow. His chest was stocky, and he wore a chain-mail jacket cut off at the shoulders to reveal muscular arms. A war ax hung from a wide leather belt strapped around his waist. An iron-bound oxhide cap, bearing the symbol of a hammer surrounded by twelve stars, sat firmly on his head. Even with the cap, he barely topped four feet.
A Dwarf?! George thought privately to himself with surprise... and refrained from making a Game of Thrones or LOTR joke.
"This dragon has come seeking our aid and you care accuse it of treachery?!" The dwarf scowled at the mage.
The spellcaster's gaze went to the dwarf. "Mind your tongue, Orik! I am in charge of security for this mountain and no one, not even a dragon, can just be giving free entry without being checked for hostile intentions." He turned his gaze to the dragon. "Now, dragon, you WILL allow me into your mind or I will tell these archers to fire!" Archers surrounded George and had arrows pointed at him.
That was the last straw for George, he didn't have time for this! I don't have time for this shit! He thought to himself before roaring and stomped his foot. Fire those arrows at me...and I will BURN every last one of you! He then spoke in the Ancient Language. I am NOT working for the Empire! I mean you no harm! But I will defend myself if necessary!
Even if some couldn't understand what he was saying, the meaning was all too clear so the soldiers lowered their weapons. The bald man kept his sneer and was about to say something but George cut him off. If you doubt my intentions, then perhaps this will be proof I bring no harm!
With that said, he lowered his wings and allowed Arya to be revealed to them.
"It's the Egg carrier, Arya!" The dwarf said.
"What?" The bald man faltered.
Seversl Companions and I rescued her from Gil'ead. She's been poisoned and needs medical attention now! George said.
"You see, mage? The Dragon means us no harm if he brought Arya to us." Orik said to the bald man.
The bald man still didn't look convinced or would relent. "Be that as it may, he still refuses to allow his mind to be searched. I must confer with Ajihad on this."
Speak with who you must, you are NOT getting into my mind. George stated coldly and firmly, letting it known that he wasn't budging on this decision.
The bald man's sneer remained and he was about to speak when his expression went blank and his lips moved, as if speaking to someone. After several moments, he looked at George.
"You have been permitted entrance. Follow me." The bald man said before snapping his fingers and several men came forward to untie Arya, the dragon's eyes watching them to make sure there wasn't any funny business. Once she was gone, he followed the mage with the dwarf walking alongside him.
Thank you for that, back there. He said to the dwarf, getting a grunt in reply.
They came up to two massive doors and the bald man turned to him. "Beyond these doors lies the city of Tronjheim. Remain on the ground and follow." He got a snort in response but George did nod. He snapped his fingers at the Dwarven guards and the doors opened. The sight was something for George to behold.
They were inside a massive volcanic crater. Its walls narrowed to a small ragged opening so high above that George could not judge the distance—it might have been more than a dozen miles. A soft beam of light fell through the aperture, illuminating the crater's center, though it left the rest of the cavernous expanse in hushed twilight.
The crater's far side, hazy blue in the distance, looked to be nearly ten miles away. Giant icicles hundreds of feet thick and thousands of feet long hung leagues above them like glistening daggers. He lowered his gaze and saw a wide cobblestone path extending from the doors' threshold. The path ran straight to the center of the crater, where it ended at the base of a snowy-white mountain that glittered like an uncut gem with thousands of colored lights. It was less than a tenth of the height of the crater that loomed over and around it, but its diminutive appearance was deceiving, for it was slightly higher than a mile.
This is a city! George said to himself.
Then George saw the crowd. He had been so engrossed by the sights that he had failed to notice a dense sea of people clustered around the tunnel's entrance. They lined the cobblestone pathway—dwarves and humans packed together like trees in a thicket. There were hundreds... thousands of them. Every eye, every face was focused on George.
As George followed the mage, he heard the crowd whisper and saw several dwarfs scowl and look away, a few even just turned and walked away. They neared the city-mountain, and George saw that the white marble of Tronjheim was highly polished and shaped into flowing contours, as if it had been poured into place. It was dotted with countless round windows framed by elaborate carvings. A colored lantern hung in each window, casting a soft glow on the surrounding rock. No turrets or smokestacks were visible. Directly ahead, two thirty-foot-high gold griffins guarded a massive timber gate—recessed twenty yards into the base of Tronjheim—which was shadowed by thick trusses that supported an arched vault far overhead.
He followed his escorts inside and down a side passage. They stopped at a pair of large wooden doors. The bald man told him to mind his mannose before they entered. George entered an elegant, two-story study paneled with rows of cedar bookshelves. A wrought-iron staircase wound up to a small balcony with two chairs and a reading table. White lanterns hung along the walls and ceiling so a book could be read anywhere in the room. The stone floor was covered by an intricate oval rug. At the far end of the room, a man stood behind a large walnut desk.
His skin gleamed the color of oiled ebony. The dome of his head was shaved bare, but a closely trimmed black beard covered his chin and upper lip. Strong features shadowed his face, and grave, intelligent eyes lurked under his brow. His shoulders were broad and powerful, emphasized by a tapered red vest embroidered with gold thread and clasped over a rich purple shirt. He bore himself with great dignity, exuding an intense, commanding air.
Next to him was another dwarf who had a crown on his head. This must be the king he heard Orik muttering about. George stopped a few feet from the desk before settling down onto his haunches, his eyes narrowing when he saw the bald man join another figure who looked exactly like him. Twins.
"Greetings dragon." Ajihad's voice brought George's attention to him. "I am Ajihad." He gestured to the dwarf beside him. "This is High Dwarf King Hrothgar." The dwarf nodded to the silver-scaled dragon who nodded back before returning gaze to Ajihad. "You've out me in a difficult position by not allowing your mind to be searched yet given entry into this mountain."
I mean no disrespect to you, Ajihad. George said calmly. Back on Earth, he's had to deal with speaking to Government officials and the Council. But my mind is my own. Plus, there is information about others I wish to keep to myself...for their safety as well as my own. But, I will divulge this information to ones I believe I can trust, that being you, the King here, and Orik. No one else. Especially them. He casted a suspicious glance at the Twins who were scowling.
Ajihad was silent as he looked at Hrothgar who nodded and Ajihad nodded back before having everyone in the room except Orik and George leave it. Once the door was shut and it was just them. George nodded and looked at Ajihad.
Now, I will tell you something with my trust...
Ever since spotting the Urgals two days ago, it had been another chase on horseback. The tension between Murtagh and Eragon didn't help with matters as Murtagh didn't want to go to the Varden. They were riding through the forest until it ended.
They were on a pebble beach directly to the left of the mouth of the Beartooth River. The deep lake Kóstha-mérna filled the valley, blocking their way. The water gleamed with flickering starlight. The mountain walls restricted passage around Kóstha-mérna to a thin strip of shore on either side of the lake, both no more than a few steps wide. At the lake's far end, a broad sheet of water tumbled down a black cliff into boiling mounds of froth.
"Do we go to the falls?" asked Murtagh tightly.
"Yes." Eragon took the lead and picked his way along the lake's left side. The pebbles underfoot were damp and slime covered. There was barely enough room for Saphira between the sheer valley wall and the lake; she had to walk with two feet in the water.
They were halfway to the waterfall when Murtagh warned, "Urgals!"
Eragon whirled around, rocks spraying from under his heel. By the shore of Kóstha-mérna, where they had been only minutes before, hulking figures streamed out of the forest. The Urgals massed before the lake. One of them gestured at Saphira; guttural words drifted over the water. Immediately the horde split and started around both sides of the lake, leaving Eragon and Murtagh without an escape route. The narrow shore forced the bulky Kull to march single file.
"Run!" barked Murtagh, drawing his sword and slapping the horses on their flanks. Saphira took off without warning and wheeled back toward the Urgals.
"No!" cried Eragon, shouting with his mind, Come back! but she continued, heedless to his pleas. With an agonizing effort, he tore his gaze from her and plunged forward, wrenching Zar'roc from its sheath.
Saphira dived at the Urgals, bellowing fiercely. They tried to scatter but were trapped against the mountainside. She caught a Kull between her talons and carried the screaming creature aloft, tearing at him with her fangs. The silent body crashed into the lake a moment later, an arm and a leg missing.
The Kull continued around Kóstha-mérna undeterred. With smoke streaming from her nostrils, Saphira dived at them again. She twisted and rolled as a cloud of black arrows shot toward her. Most of the darts glanced off her scaled sides, leaving no more than bruises, but she roared as the rest pierced her wings.
Eragon's arms twinged with sympathetic pain, and he had to restrain himself from rushing to her defense. Fear flooded his veins as he saw the line of Urgals closing in on them. He tried to run faster, but his muscles were too tired, the rocks too slippery.
Then, with a loud splash, Saphira plunged into Kóstha-mérna. She submerged completely, sending ripples across the lake. The Urgals nervously eyed the dark water lapping their feet. One growled something indecipherable and jabbed his spear at the lake.
The water exploded as Saphira's head shot out of the depths. Her jaws closed on the spear, breaking it like a twig as she tore it out of the Kull's hands with a vicious twist. Before she could seize the Urgal himself, his companions thrust at her with their spears, bloodying her nose.
Saphira jerked back and hissed angrily, beating the water with her tail. Keeping his spear pointed at her, the lead Kull tried to edge past, but halted when she snapped at his legs. The string of Urgals was forced to stop as she held him at bay. Meanwhile, the Kull on the other side of the lake still hurried toward the falls.
I've trapped them, she told Eragon tersely, but hurry—I cannot hold them long. Archers on the shore were already taking aim at her. Eragon concentrated on going faster, but a rock gave under his boot and he pitched forward. Murtagh's strong arm kept him on his feet, and clasping each other's forearms, they urged the horses forward with shouts.
They were almost to the waterfall. The noise was overwhelming, like an avalanche. A white wall of water gushed down the cliff, pounding the rocks below with a fury that sent mist spraying through the air to run down their faces. Four yards from the thunderous curtain, the beach widened, giving them room to maneuver.
Saphira roared as an Urgal spear grazed her haunch, then retreated underwater. With her withdrawal the Kull rushed forward with long strides. They were only a few hundred feet away. "What do we do now?" Murtagh demanded coldly.
"I don't know. Let me think!" cried Eragon, searching Arya's memories for her final instructions. He scanned the ground until he found a rock the size of an apple, grabbed it, then pounded on the cliff next to the falls, shouting, "Aí varden abr du Shur'tugals gata vanta!"
Nothing happened.
He tried again, shouting louder than before, but only succeeded in bruising his hand. He turned in despair to Murtagh. "We're trap—" His words were cut off as Saphira leapt out of the lake, dousing them with icy water. She landed on the beach and crouched, ready to fight.
The horses backpedaled wildly, trying to bolt. Eragon reached out with his mind to steady you! cried Saphira. He turned and glimpsed the lead Urgal running at him, heavy spear raised. Up close a Kull was as tall as a small giant, with legs and arms as thick as tree trunks.
Murtagh drew back his arm and threw his sword with incredible speed. The long weapon revolved once, then struck the Kull point first in the chest with a dull crunch. The huge Urgal toppled to the ground with a strangled gurgle. Before another Kull could attack, Murtagh dashed forward and yanked his sword out of the body.
Eragon raised his palm, shouting, "Jierda theirra kalfis!" Sharp cracks resounded off the cliff. Twenty of the charging Urgals fell into Kóstha-mérna, howling and clutching their legs where shards of bone protruded. Without breaking stride, the rest of the Urgals advanced over their fallen companions. Eragon struggled against his weariness, putting a hand on Saphira for support.
A flight of arrows, impossible to see in the darkness, brushed past them and clattered against the cliff. Eragon and Murtagh ducked, covering their heads. With a small growl, Saphira jumped over them so that her armored sides shielded them and the horses. A chorus of clinks sounded as a second volley of arrows bounced off her scales.
"What now?" shouted Murtagh. There was still no opening in the cliff. "We can't stay here!"
Eragon heard Saphira snarl as an arrow caught the edge of her wing, tearing the thin membrane. He looked around wildly, trying to understand why Arya's instructions had not worked. "I don't know! This is where we're supposed to be!"
Eragon, growled Saphira urgently.
What!
We're on the wrong side of the lake! I've seen Arya's memories through you, and I just realized that this isn't the right place. She tucked her head against her breast as another flight of arrows sped toward them. Her tail flicked in pain as they struck her. I can't keep this up! They're tearing me to pieces!
Suddenly everything came to a halt when a loud roar was heard and all eyes, human, Urgal, and Dragon snapped to it...
HERE'S JOHNNY! I mean...HERE'S GEORGIE!