It took Murtagh several moments to realize he was screaming, the anguish and shock ripped from his throat as his mind took in what his eyes did not want to believe. But he only had a moment to realize that the souls were being sucked towards Hal before he was tossed from Thorn's saddle, along with Invidia.
Thorn roared, biting and kicking at the Lethrblaka who screamed, but they were all immune to it. But the scream alerted the Ra'zac nearby, and Murtagh wondered just how much magic the Shade had used to collect these demons and breed them to such numbers.
Invidia shouted, using the same spell Blödhgarm had used to conjure the light in the cave, but she hurled it at the Ra'zac then shouted at Murtagh, "You need to stop that Shade from turning Hal. I will keep the Ra'zac off of you. Go now!"
Murtagh cut down the Ra'zac, ignoring the blood as it splattered against his face and clothes. He could hear Invidia shouting in the Ancient Language, light and fire illuminating the air behind him as he ran towards Hal.
The closer he got, the more he realized how much magic was in the air. The last time he had felt such energy had been around Galbatorix, but even this felt stronger. More dangerous. Hal's body was twitching as the souls entered her body, and Murtagh let out a scream as he lunged towards the Shade, Zar'roc held high as he increased the wards and shields around him to defend against the Shade's magic.
She side-stepped him with ease and he retaliated with magic. Her eyes went wide when he used the Name of Names, and he was stunned that she seemed to recognize it.
"You are too late," she muttered, her voice low as she dodged his attack. "Even if you kill me, the spell is done. She will turn."
Murtagh screamed again, the Shade dodging and ducking from his attacks. She was noticeably unarmed, and her lip was curled in frustration as she began to realize that he was a stronger swordsman, probably more so than she had expected or anticipated. And he could see her movements were almost clumsy. She wasn't formally trained, that much was obvious. She was moving on pure instinct.
Lunging sharply, on the verge of careless desperation to end the fight quickly, Murtagh swung for her side. The Shade ducked down and threw her fist into his stomach. The force of it made him feel like he was going to be sick, and she used the fact that he was momentarily stunned to take a fistful of his hair and yank his head back, exposing his throat. She brought her fist back and he knew that she could easily strike in a manner that would crush his windpipe. But something over his shoulder caught her eye and she stared until a look of horror crossed her.
"NO!" The Shade shouted. She seemed to forget all about him, and had even released his hair a bit as thought to let him go as she took a sudden step forward. And Murtagh watched in confusion as she froze just as quickly, until he noticed the red line appearing around her neck, a thin trail of blood as though she had been beheaded. Just as the Shade began to scream in pain, her body turned to smoke and she vanished.
Murtagh turned, immediately on high alert, unsure of what the Shade had seen that had seemed to frighten her so. But he felt his sword fall from his hands, hope leaving him as Hal stood before him. Her hand was outstretched as a gold light emanating from her hand faded to nothing.
Her eyes were a piercing, blood red.
Hal's eyes rolled into the back of her head as she collapsed. Murtagh ran towards her, catching her just before she hit the ground. Her body had gone completely limp, her skin — which was still brown, at least for now — was shockingly cold as he dropped to his knees, patting her cheek gently.
"Hal? Come on, Hal, wake up."
He pressed his ear to her chest and felt his eyes brim with tears. There was no heartbeat.
"Halen, please wake up," he cried, patting her cheek harder. He laid her down on the ground and began chest compressions, hoping to revive her. "Breathe, Halen. I need you to breathe for me, okay?"
She didn't respond, didn't gasp for air or open her eyes. Tears ran down his cheeks as he heard footsteps approach. Without thinking, he picked up his sword and aimed it, feeling manic in case it was the Ra'zac or the Shade. But Invidia halted a few feet away, holding her hands up.
Murtagh lowered his weapon and continued to perform the compressions.
"Murtagh," Invidia said gently, pityingly, painfully. Her voice was tight.
"If you touch her, I will kill you," Murtagh hissed, reading her tone.
"I don't like it either. But we cannot let her turn. It's not fair to Halen and you know it."
"If you touch her, I will kill you," he repeated slowly, not looking up. Thorn inhaled and let out a roar so fierce and heartbreaking that Murtagh wept even harder, his vision blurring so badly that he had to stop and wipe his eyes.
"Dammit, Halen," he seethed, his anger returning, "you promised me. You promised me we'd stay together, no matter what. You promised me. You prom —"
He wailed, his hands shaking as he buried his face in her neck. She wasn't turning, but she wasn't breathing either. He cradled her head in his hand, kissing her lips, his tears falling and running down her cheeks. "I love you," he whispered. "That's what I wanted to tell you. That I love you. I love you. I lo —"
His voice broke and he screamed, rocking back and forth hysterically, Hal dead, in his arms.
…
Halen.
It is time.
Hal's eyes flew open. She immediately felt the soft breeze, warm, on her face. She turned her head, realizing quickly that she was outside. In the forest, back on Illium. She would know those trees anywhere. She closed her eyes again briefly, relishing in the peace and quiet before her memory suddenly filled with images of the Shade, and the spirits she had manipulated into possessing Hal.
Hal scrambled to her feet, but all she saw around her were trees. This hadn't been where she was when she was with the Shade. She had been on Uden, paralyzed and very much afraid.
But she felt the opposite as she walked, observing her surroundings with a little curiosity and confusion, but she did not register pain or fear. She breathed, knowing something was wrong, but unable to comprehend what it was.
"Hello, my love."
Something about the words stirred something in Hal's chest. Hal paused as a figure appeared before her. Standing directly in the path of the sunlight, Hal couldn't make out a face. She only registered it as a woman's voice. The same voice who had been invading Hal's dreams for many months now.
It is time.
She is coming.
Never alone.
She knew this voice. Knew this woman. The figure didn't move as Hal drew near, her face still obscured. But that same feeling of familiarity tugged at her heart, full of love and want. A childlike kind. A bond, sacred and sweet. A protectiveness. It was like Hal knew. Maybe she had always known, even when she dared not allow herself to hope. But now, she would finally see for herself.
Hal stopped, just barely a foot away. The woman turned, angling her head slightly as her features came into view. Tears filled Hal's eyes as she reached out a hand, cupping the woman's high cheeks, warm and soft to the touch. As though real and alive.
Hal smiled through her tears. "Hello, mama."
…
They walked in silence for quite some time, the leaves silent as they walked over them. Their feet were bare, and Hal realized they wore similar dresses. But where her mother's sleeves were long and form-fitting, Hal's was just two thick straps. They walked arm in arm, until Hal could bear the silence no more.
"I'm dead, aren't I?"
Her mother's grip became tight as her gaze remained forward. "You are fading, yes. But we are doing everything we can to prevent that from happening."
Hal stopped. They both did, and turned to look at each other. Hal marveled at how much like her mother she appeared. The same nose and mouth. If she had not had to cut her hair, it would be as long as well. But her hair had always been slow to grow.
"We?"
Her mother's face grew sad. "We do not know why we were trapped as spirits. After we died, many of us just woke up in these forms. Entities of light and energy. We were aimless for years until Thea returned to the island using dark magic. We knew it was her, we could recognize the magic as our own. And even in her new form, I would know my daughter anywhere. But she was strong. We didn't know what she was after, but we tried to slow her down where we could. We even managed to trap her on Uden, but after breeding the Ra'zac, she was able to send them in her place. Our magic is strong, but limiting. I do not know what will happen now that we are no longer able to enforce our wards."
Her mother cupped her cheek. "After some time, it did not take us long to realize she was tracking down any survivors of our village, assuming that whomever she found would be a candidate for her plan. I knew it had to be you, because in my heart I knew you had survived. Watching that boat sail away with you on it was the greatest gifts I could have ever received. That my child might yet survive. But I did not know where you were, I just had a feeling. And I reached out, trying to find any magic user on the ethereal planes to hear my plea and answer my call."
"Eragon," Hal breathed.
Her mother nodded. "I was able to convince him to help, resulting in the young Morzansson being sent to you. I did not have much to go on, just a mother's hope and a memory of you that I hoped would be a enough. But then the Ra'zac found you. And as it tortured you, your heart and soul cried out to us. Your magic was like a beacon, but not just to us. Thea felt it as well. And that was how she knew for certain to go to Illium. She got close once, when she attacked your mind. But you surprised her by retaliating as strongly as you did, and it frightened her enough to withhold doing so again. But because she still did not know who you were, the rest of us did our best to shield you from her. To protect you as best we could. But, as you well know, your leaving your village surprised us all.
"She sensed you as soon as you left, and dispatched the Ra'zac while she tried to infiltrate your mind. You were so strong, my love. I know the cost was grave, but you fought so bravely. Once you returned to the village, she was no longer able to sense you. That was when she set the traps in the caves, assuming that you would at least seek to hunt down the Ra'zac. She decided to be patient rather than attacking again."
"And she was right," Hal muttered. She breathed. "At least if I am dead, I cannot become a Shade. I can't hurt anyone."
Her mother smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
Hal swallowed. "Why didn't you tell me who you were. I asked and you never answered."
"Because you had built a new life for yourself. A good life. A life you deserved. Even in this form, we are still dead. I feared that telling you would get you hung up on a past you had tried to escape. It was enough, for all of us, to see that you have grown, and prospered, on your own. That you found life and love and meaning and self. That was all I wished for you when I put you on that boat. And it is all I still wish for you, even now."
Hal blinked back tears. "It's too late."
"Only if you want it to end this way," her mother said cryptically.
"What do you mean? How else can this possibly end?"
"Listen to me carefully, Hal, as there is no precedent for what I am about to tell you. And your decision now could spell the beginning or the end of Alagaësia as we know it." Hal felt herself waver with uncertainty, but she nodded, driven by curiosity and barely contained desperation that there was another way. "The very essence of a Shade is rooted in evil. Either an evil sorcerer using spirits for his own misdeeds, or evil spirits using a living creature for their own misdeeds. But despite the fact that Thea forced us, there is a chance you will not turn if you live."
Hal shook her head. "But that's impossible."
"We don't want to be a Shade any more than you do. To have two unwilling participants sharing the same body is an act that has never been done before."
"Then it can be undone?"
Her mother looked pained. "Not that we are aware of. Thea spent years all over Alagaësia, especially far north, researching and discovering ancient forms of magic that had not been used or discovered in centuries. We're talking dark magic, like necromancy and dangerous forms of alchemy. It is this magic that was used to force us to bend to her will, and she did it without knowing our true names. Can you imagine something like that being unleashed on the world?"
Hal felt her chest tighten in a panic. "But why does she want this magic? What good will it do her to have it and use it?"
"That, we don't know. Whatever evil thoughts the person that turned her into a Shade planted into her mind, we can only assume those are the guidelines she is now following."
"What happens to me if I wake?"
Her mother licked her lips. "There are three possibilities. The first, is that the energy being exerted on your body from the sudden influx of souls inhabiting it, with this level of magic, will kill you and everything in the immediate vicinity."
Hal felt her knees weaken. "Oh. Okay. And what are my other two options?"
"You will turn into a true Shade, and you will kill everyone in the immediate vicinity."
"If the third option is not a good one then just let me die now. Please do not give me optimism where there is none."
"Your final option, and our only hope, is that your body adapts to the existence of the souls within it. This will prevent the first option from happening, but will require a few days in which we will have to maintain control of your physical form as we work to repair the damage our plight has caused you. We're working to restart your heart now, but it will only work so long as you continue to fight."
"So, I will cease to exist altogether?" Hal commented, horrified at the thought of her body continuing on while her soul was trapped elsewhere. She thought of the tiny soul in the Shade and wondered, for the first time, if that was what remained of her sister. The thought filled her with grief.
"No, we don't think so. If we can heal your body, then we will return full control over to you. You will have your memories and everything. We would almost co-exist, in a way, rather than take over. But, you will then be forced to bear the burden of defeating Thea."
Hal stared in bewilderment. Nothing she was saying made sense. "You've lost your mind."
Her mother stood there patiently. "As far as we know, you and Thea are all that is left of our people. Possessing perhaps the most ancient form of magic that has ever existed, unhindered by the Ancient Language. Stronger than any elf or dragon rider you both will be. Thea knows this. We could not save her. We were too late. But we must do what we can to stop her all the same before she hurts anyone else."
Hal's mind flashed to Denu, and Murtagh and Thorn, Amon and Tena, Layla, Berjis and Bea and Aiden. Her friends. Her family.
"But I just discovered how to properly use my magic. I cannot defeat Thea."
Her mother stepped closer. "You can't when you are alone. But you are no longer alone."
Faces and bodies began to take shape around them. Hal yelped in surprise, but she watched as she recognized her grandparents, her childhood friends and their families. Her village. Her people. They all smiled down at her, looking as they had before they had died. Wholesome and full of life. And Hal understood then why her mother kept using the term "we" in her explanations.
"Thea used us because she knew how much magic resides in each of us. You were already strong within your own right. But if we fight against you turning, then Thea would have created perhaps the one thing that can stop her." Her mother gave Hal a kind smile. "We will be with you, every step of the way. To guide you. You will be stronger than any who have walked this world before you. But you can use your powers for good. You can stop Thea."
Hal slowly turned, taking in all the faces, memories and names returning after years of trying to forget. Then she stopped. It was almost as though Amon was staring right at her. But she blinked and some of his features changed. The skin became darker, the eyes lighter, with flecks of green in them. But he was still burley in size, grinning like he always did. Like a man who had everything in the world to smile about.
"Papa!" Hal cried, and he came forward and took her face in his oversized hand, wiping her tears away. Even grown, Hal immediately felt like a small child in front of him.
"I'm so proud of you, my brave, sweet girl."
It was too much, it was all too much. Hal fell to her knees and wept, hugging herself tightly. "I cannot do this!" she cried. "I can't. What if I turn? You are asking me to put lives at stake on the hope that I will not fail."
"Everything we've done has been built on hope," her mother argued, falling to her knees as well. "The hope that you would survive the attack on our village. The hope that someone like Eragon would get my plea, and send help. You must always continue to hope, and fight, my love. Fight for those who will miss you and need your strength to carry on. Fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. And most importantly," her mother wiped her tears from her cheeks, "you must fight for love."
Something stirred in Hal's chest at her words. She glanced down at her lap, hesitant. "And when you say I must 'defeat' Thea…?"
At that, her mother shed a single tear, unable to make Hal's gaze. "I fear your sister is lost to us. You must be prepared to do whatever it takes —"
"So you want me to kill my sister after learning she has been alive all this time? You honestly think I would choose my life over hers after everything she has endured?!"
"She is not the Thea you remember —"
"You can't even look me in the eyes and say it! How am I supposed to accept it? How can I after I lived a life she should have had?! And you would give up on her without trying to find another solution —"
"Do you think I would ask such a thing of you if I thought there was any other way?" At the sharp edge of her mother's voice, the grief, Hal fell silent, wallowing in misery of her own. "How do you think I feel, wishing all this time that Thea had died rather than become that…"
Her mother looked horrorstruck, and Hal felt her eyes burn with tears once more. There was a beat of silence, and Hal's grief at what she had thought was the death of her family fractured as the reality of their horror began to set in. All these years and Hal had thought she had been alone. Never knowing that her sister was being tortured…? Hal couldn't even comprehend her own shame. Her own failure at protecting Thea.
"I could not save your sister," her mother whispered, her voice quivering with a despair Hal was beginning to feel. "And I will never forgive myself for that. I failed her. But Halen, my love, what little remains of your sister is trapped in that body and she is not strong enough to break free. I know what I am asking you do to do is cruel and unfair. You were always so protective of Thea. But stopping her, killing her if you must, will be doing her a greater kindness. She has blood on her hands, and she will have more if we do not do something. Especially now. We were able to keep her contained on Uden, and look at the damage she still managed to wrought. But now that she has trapped us here…"
Hal clenched the material of her dress tightly as she thought of Celia, of the Xano Village. Of Denu. Of the Tenari Village. There was so much at stake. So many people she wanted to protect. And there was so much she didn't know. But if Thea truly got her way…
"She is not like the Shades I have learned about," Hal began, her voice grave. "She has retained her old name, her old memories, even though she claims Thea as we knew her is gone. She shows emotions I was led to believe a Shade could not. I felt her soul in there. Even if it was small, even if it was scared, it was alive, she exists. And you would have me drive a blade through her chest as if she were nothing? You would have me kill my sister?"
Her voice broke on that last part and Hal burst into tears as it tore her heart in two. "I don't understand any of this!" she cried. "I don't understand how you're here. I don't understand why or how any of this happened? I can't do this. I can't…"
"I know —"
"NO, YOU DON'T KNOW!" Hal screamed, her face twisting in fury as she looked up at her mother. "YOU DON'T KNOW HOW IT FEELS. I WATCHED YOU DIE. I WATCHED OUR PEOPLE DIE. AND I HAVE SPENT EVERY DAMN MOMENT OF MY LIFE SINCE, TRYING TO REBUILD A SEMBLANCE OF NORMALCY AND PEACE. AND NOW YOU'RE TELLING ME YOU EXIST IN THESE FORMS? THAT MY SISTER HAS BEEN TORTURED AND CORRUPTED SINCE SHE WAS SIX? AND YOU THINK YOU KNOW HOW THIS FEELS?! MY ENTIRE LIFE IS A LIE!"
To Hal's surprise, her mother was not angry. The woman was openly weeping, nodding as Hal shouted. And then her mother bowed forward, resting her forehead on the ground. "You're right, Halen. You're right, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry you have borne this burden on your own all this time. This grief. If I could take it from you, if I could do it myself, I would. If I could ease your heartache and your guilt, my love, I would. But I can't. And I must ask you to do what I cannot. Please, Halen, do not let your sister lose any more of her life. Do not let her take another's life. Let her rest and find the peace she has deserved all this time. I know it's not fair to ask this of you, but please: bear this burden a little longer."
Hal was sobbing so hard her shoulders were shaking. She could not stand to hear her mother beg. She had not meant to upset her so. Not after what she had endured herself. Not after what she had lost. And Hal was so indignant on behalf of her people, her sister, that she wished she could drive her sword through the neck of the soldiers herself. They had done this. Galbatorix had done this. They had ruined her and her village. They had allowed for her sister to become tainted.
Hal looked around her, at the grief-stricken and morose faces of her village. "This isn't f-f-fair," Hal stuttered. "We were supposed to have all of this time together. And now I have to lose all of you all over again."
Her mother took a shuddering breath as she raised her head. Stroking Hal's cheeks and wiping away the tears, her mother softly shook her head. "Oh, Halen."
"What if I said no?" Hal asked, looking back at her mother. "What if I chose death? Couldn't I just stay with you?"
"You do not want that. I have seen the life you have led. Could you really leave all of that behind? Could you risk Thea tearing it all apart in her campaign for blood?"
Hal sniffed, fighting back another wave of tears, wanting to believe the warm touch on her cheek was real. That this was all real. To see her mother and father again, to hear their voices and be calmed by their presence. She ached for what she had lost. And she ached even more for her sister and what she had endured.
But her mother was right. She could choose to risk her own life. Her own doomed fate. But she could not bear the thought of risking anyone else's.
"Okay," Hal whispered, unconvinced as she said it. "I will continue to fight. So that we may co-habit this body and pray I do not kill us all."
The rest of her village vanished, as if she had given them a command, leaving just her and her mother. "And you will stay with me?" Hal asked once more. "Will I know you are there or…"
"We will be connected to you here," her mother said, touching her temple. "And here," she added, touching her heart. "But you will not feel us, nor hear us. We will let you make your own choices and will not interfere in your life. You will still have your independence and freedom. But if you need us, you may call on us. And we will come."
Her mother began to fade and Hal shouted to her once more. She waited patiently and Hal rose to her feet. "Do you…do you know the Ancient Language?"
"Some of it, yes. The memories of our ancestors were restored when we died…although they are a bit hazy. Why?"
"The words 'iet dunei' — how do they translate?"
Her mother gave a knowing smile. "I think you already know, my love."
…
Murtagh didn't think it was possible to feel this broken. Every breath he took felt like knives in his lungs, his throat enflamed and burning from his screams, his voice growing hoarse as he cried. He was still beating on Hal's chest, her face so peaceful she could be asleep.
This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.
"Murtagh, please," Invidia said in a low voice, not quite begging. "We must go before the Shade or the Ra'zac return."
He ignored her. His arms weren't even tired yet. Because Hal had promised — she'd promised. She'd never lied to him, never broken a promise. She knew better than to start now.
"You said we'd stay together," he gritted through his teeth, pressing down on her chest with force. "And you've never lied to me. Breathe Halen. Please breathe."
He wept, but he never stopped. To stop would be to give up. And he couldn't give up. Not on Hal.
He had tried everything he could think of, but nothing was working. Yet. Nothing was working yet. He refused to believe she was gone. Not now. Not when they had made it this far. He could not lose hope. If he lost her…
"Come on, Halen. Breathe. I know you are still fighting. Fight for me, please. I love you, Halen, please don't leave me. Please don't go —"
His voice broke again and he curled up against the fresh wave of pain, screaming before sitting back up and returning to the chest compressions. He was seconds from beating on her chest when Invidia gasped. Murtagh saw it as well.
Hal's hand had just twitched.
"Murtagh, step back!" Invidia warned, pointing her sword. "She could be a Shade."
He didn't want to believe it, but then he recalled that brief moment before she had collapsed. Her eyes had been as red as Thorn's hide. Without thinking, he reached for her face, gently lifting her eyelid. They were still brown for now, but there was a tint to them, reddish in color, and expanding by the second.
…
Murtagh had long since gone numb. Physically, from sitting with his back against the wall, arms resting on the top of his knees as he kept an eye on Hal's sleeping figure. Mentally, from waiting for the inevitable.
He had sat here for almost several hours, watching. Waiting. He had always thought the process to becoming a Shade was more instantaneous, and he could not help but hold on to the hope that something had gone wrong and Hal would not turn. He had checked her eyes about every minute or so since, for signs of life amongst other things. Sometimes they were their normal, brown hue. Sometimes there was the development of red. The color volleyed back and forth, as if her body didn't know what to make of her. Her skin was as brown as ever, although her complexion was sickly and she was still frightfully cold to the touch. Her hair was still dark. All in all, physically, she was still Hal. But then, why wouldn't she wake?
Thorn and Invidia tried to coax him to eat something. To talk. To stretch his legs. To move. To feel something. But he could only do so much. Murtagh felt…hollow. He had been too late to save her, and now he had lost her to a fate perhaps worse than death.
He gripped the dagger in his hand.
He had already decided on what he knew he must do, and it had to be him. His eyes blurred with tears once more at the thought, but he had long since stopped wiping them away. He should've already done it. Plunged the dagger into her chest before she had a chance to turn. And yet, in order to do so, he needed her to turn. He could not do it as long as she looked like his Hal. He could not look at the face that had smiled up at him so many times, that had slowly yet effortlessly captured his heart, and kill her.
A small sob escaped him, his heart twisting in anguish. Thorn tried to touch his mind, to console him with what little words he could muster, but Murtagh could feel the dragon's own grief through their bond, which only made him feel worse.
Suddenly, Hal groaned from where she lay on the opposite side of the room. Murtagh froze, his chest tight. He couldn't do this. He couldn't do this. He wasn't ready.
Her hand twitched and her eyes flew open as if something had scared her awake. He could hardly breathe, staring at her with trepidation. She blinked, as if confused. Then she slowly raised both hands to her face, staring at them as if she'd never seen them before.
"It worked," she whispered, stunned. No, not Hal. Someone other than Hal was speaking, although it was clearly her lips moving. It sounded like dozens of voices speaking at once, and Murtagh felt like he was destroyed. No longer Hal. And yet, to cruelly keep that beautiful face, to taunt him of what he had lost before he'd truly had a chance to cherish it.
Hal — no, the Shade — watched him curiously, as if trying to figure out who he was. For Hal's eyes to look at him so blankly, he almost wanted to drive the dagger into his own chest.
"Murtagh Morzansson."
It breathed his name with familiarity, and something in him snapped, fury replacing his anguis as he jumped to his feet. He yanked on her arm, dragging her — it — to its feet. He slammed it to the wall, bracing his forearm against her neck, dagger poised at her chest.
Silence. His hand was shaking with his lack of control, and Hal's eyes looked confused, yet unafraid. And something in them flashed, like a piece of his Hal was still in there. Could see him. Her hand went to his face, touching his jaw, and her expression briefly softened as a single tear rolled down her cheek.
"Rider?"
And just that easily, the fight left him completely. He was ashamed of his own relief, his own inability to end it now. It might kill a part of his soul to do so. He dropped the dagger and fell to his knees, sobbing inconsolably. He couldn't do this. He wasn't strong enough for this. He could not let her leave. Could not let her live. And yet he could not bring himself to do anything about it.
"She is unhurt, Shur'tugal," the voice said, returning to the eerie speech that was nothing like how Hal sounded. "She is safe. We made sure of that."
"Then WHERE IS SHE?!" he screamed, looking up at Hal and feeling his heart lurch at the gentle look on her face. One of sympathy and kindness. Familiar, yet foreign all the same.
She tapped the side of her head. "She is here. She is weak and understandably frightened. If we return her to this body now, as it stands, the shock of what has been done to her could either turn her or kill her. We will remain while she gathers her strength. Then we will return her to you. She will be as you remember her, but…stronger." Then, to his surprise, they repeated everything in the Ancient Language to reassure him of what he was hearing.
"You may speak the Ancient Language, but how can I trust you? Who are you?"
They seemed to consider his question for a moment, as if debating whether to answer. They stepped around him, moving carefully as if they were not used to legs. He eventually rose to his feet, following them outside as they took in the decrepit remains Thorn had found. Murtagh looked around them as well, Thorn's gaze narrowed in on Hal but he did not acknowledge either of them.
"You know this place," Murtagh said.
"Yes," said Hal's voice, breathless as though in wonder. "As does Halen."
His muscles tensed.
"How did you find it?"
Murtagh swallowed thickly, unsure of whether or not he should answer. "Thorn sensed it while we scoured the island for a safe place to regroup. Said there was magic here, preserving the village."
"Yes. We hid it from the world after we perished. There are strong and ancient wards surrounding this place. You will be safe here."
Invidia appeared from around the corner, a bundle of firewood in her arms. Her face lit up at the sight of Hal and she moved to run towards them, but then she saw Murtagh's stricken expression. Immediately she dropped the wood and threw her hands out. Murtagh knew she was using a non-verbal spell, and shouted for her to stop. But it didn't matter, whatever spell she used was no match for the Shade. Hal didn't even look her way, turning towards the rest of the village as Invidia's spell was blocked by a shield. Murtagh shivered at the sight.
As Hal — the Shade — wandered through what remained of Hal's village, Invidia ran to him. "Why did you let her go?!" Invidia snapped, looking stricken. "Why would you not kill her before she turned?"
"Because he knows doing so would kill Halen as well."
They both gasped in surprise as Hal — the Shade — appeared behind them. Even Thorn snorted in surprise and Murtagh instinctively reached for his sword. But something gave him pause.
"Why does Halen still look like herself?" Murtagh asked. Invidia's attention snapped towards him, baffled that he seemed to think it the most pressing question at the moment.
"Because she is not a Shade in the true sense of the word. What Thea did to her was unprecedented. Even we were not aware it was possible, which is why we are working as fast we can to preserve Halen's life."
"How so?" Invidia asked.
"Thea?" Murtagh inquired at the same time. The name sounded familiar. Hal's expression became pained and he groaned when he realized why he knew that name. "No. Please no. Please tell me Hal does not know of this."
"She found out just before you arrived to rescue her. And Thea is now aware that Halen is alive."
Invidia looked at him, baffled. Hal looked at her. "Thea is the Shade that has done this to us. And she is Halen's younger sister."
"She was Hal's younger sister," Murtagh corrected, his voice strained. "That thing is no more human than a Ra'zac. It has forfeited the right to claim Halen as family."
"None of this explains how you exist as you do," Invidia snapped, trying to get back to the matter at hand. "What does Halen have to do with any of this?"
Hal's shoulders sagged. "Everything we are about to tell you, we have told Halen. We suggest you pay careful attention. From this moment forward, Halen's life will be stake."
…
"You're lying," Murtagh hissed as the Shade finished its story. "There's no way —"
"You can believe what you want. But Halen has chosen to accept everything we have just told you. She will be able to confirm our identity when she wakes. But she has chosen to fight, Shur'tugal."
"Bring her back to me now!"
"We told you already — we can't. Her body just absorbed the souls of many with magic beyond your comprehension. We will wake her when we know this act will not leave her for dead or turned. We have a hard time believing you'd want anything less."
He sneered, angry and desperate to see Hal, whole. To hear from her that she was truly all right. But he could not argue with their logic, if it was indeed all true. And his head hurt from trying to absorb it all.
Invidia herself looked like she had been stabbed in the stomach. "Your very existence," she whispered, "Halen's very existence, challenges the very reality of how we understand magic to be."
"Aye," Hal's voice agreed. But there was a somberness to it as well. "If word of her were to get out, if word of Thea were to get out, they would both be hunted down. Thea, we believe, was already a victim of this. We believe evil spirits were used to turn her, but that still does not negate how powerful she is in her own right. You've seen for yourself what Halen was capable of when she was human and untrained. If this transition with Halen is successful, both she and Thea will have the abilities of Shades in addition to their own prowess. But there will always be those who will seek to use her magic for nefarious means. Thea will not be your only enemy.
"If we are able to preserve Halen's humanity, if she survives this, she could very well be the mother of a new generation of magic users. Her children, her grandchildren, and her great-grandchildren could very well harness this type of magic. To wield it without being trapped within the confines of the Ancient Language. Galbatorix himself nearly had her, and he had no idea. In that regard, we are fortunate that night ended the way it did. If he had come to realize — the very nature of the war could have ended very differently."
Murtagh was shaking at the thought. The thought of Hal being raised in captivity of Galbatorix, instead of finding refuge on Illium. He would have found her true name — and at ten she would have had no way to defend herself from him. He would have twisted her, tortured her, broken her, and molded her into his puppet. Into his slave. Just as he had done Murtagh. And then, when she was old enough, Hal would've been forced to give birth to children the moment she was able. And if the child had no magical abilities, Galbatorix would've killed it without a second thought. He shook the frightening thoughts from his head before he was sick.
When he turned, he shivered when he saw Hal's eyes on him. Her head was tilted, as though studying him. "What happens now?" Invidia asked, and Murtagh was grateful when Hal looked away.
"The Shade will come looking for Halen as soon as she has her strength. Hal must limit her use of magic. Thea will always be drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Even with proper shields, now that Thea knows her identity, knows exactly who she is looking for, hiding will be even harder. But Thea may choose to lay low, since she does not yet know what we are capable of. And she fears us since she knows how strong we are."
The words made Murtagh shiver. He had heard enough.
"Can she hear me?" he asked, blinking back tears as he looked up. "If I were to speak to Hal, through you, would she hear me?"
"Yes, Dragon Rider. She would hear you."
He strode over to the Shade, to Hal, taking her face in his hands. Thorn hissed and Invidia gripped her sword tightly, but Murtagh did not feel afraid. The deeper he sunk into those beautiful, brown eyes, the less he felt afraid. Even as they looked at him blankly. Hal was still in there. Hal was still fighting, they had said. Then so would he.
"Halen," he breathed, tears running down his cheeks. "My Halen. Come back to me. I love —" He grew flustered, aware that he wasn't quite speaking to Hal. And yet… He looked her in the eyes once more, his voice strong with resolve. "I love you. With all that I am. I love you, Halen. And I need you to come back so I can tell your properly. So, keep fighting, iet dunei. I will be here waiting for you when you return."
He walked away from her, overcome with emotion. But more than that, he could not bear the feeling of how his heart fluttered at the tears that had welled in Halen's eyes. It was as though she had truly heard him.