Argenta landed as Saphira skipped a step to regain her balance, and Eragon slid off of the blue dragon before she could fold her wings.
Armelle slid off of Argenta before she folded her leathery silver wings. She caught Eragon just before he fell face-first into the frigid snow.
He gasped, and Armelle could feel his pain from the connection the Riders had made, and she knew how that felt from experience. His legs trembled violently from having held Saphira so tightly, and he forced himself to stretch out his pained legs, and then look down to them. Large blots were darkening the fabric, and Eragon almost ripped his pants from his legs to inspect his own wounds.
Armelle looked away quickly, her face starting to heat ever so slightly. She heard Argenta chuckle through their bond.
You have been working with the town healer, have you not? The metallic dragon asked. How do you expect to be a healer if seeing a male anatomy causes such a poor reaction?
Armelle threw a snowball at the silver dragon, hitting her in the snout.
Argenta snorted in annoyance.
Armelle turned around as Eragon pulled his pants back on to prevent himself from freezing. She caught him when he tried to stand and couldn't manage it.
"Thank you," he said quietly, his voice trembling from either cold or pain or both. "I wish they could breath fire." He whispered to Armelle as Saphira slipped over to her Rider's side, crouching low.
"Maybe," Armelle agreed. "But she can still keep you warm."
Armelle slipped free from Eragon, and he put a hand on Saphira's side, feeling her tremble as her fear burned through him.
He tried to settle her mind with gentle images that he unknowingly showed to Armelle and Argenta.
The Silver Rider moved back to her dragon, puffs of the frigid air escaping her mouth and nose as she breathed.
Argenta swept her large tail and cleared layers of snow from the ground, and did it again to remove what remained so her Rider wouldn't have to lay in the snow.
Armelle rubbed her hands together to warm them through her half-fingered gloves, coppery skin tone and golden hair the only colors on their side of the frozen woods. Saphira was the only color on the other side.
Armelle snuggled into Argenta's warm flank, and the silver dragon wrapped her tail around herself and her Rider protectively.
Why didn't you react like Saphira did? Armelle asked her dragon. I can tell that the strangers frighten you as well.
The murderers, Argenta started slowly, lowering her large head to the snow to look at Armelle with a large silvery eye. They are after us, all four of us. I was afraid, yes, but I knew your father and the storyteller would keep you safe. Saphira knew Eragon had no one like that. I flew after her quickly because I knew that together we could keep you both safe better than only one could. And I could not protect Eragon without you being near. It seemed wrong.
Because he is not your Rider? Armelle questioned.
Because he is not my partner of heart and mind, Argenta corrected softly, and though they knew it meant the same thing, it was more intimate, better explaining the relationship. I wanted you close if there was any danger.
Armelle smiled slightly. I will always be here, Argenta.
As will I, little one.
Armelle closed her silver eyes, but was unable to relax as she thought about what might be happening back in Carvahall.
Armelle woke up with a groan and a small shiver as she felt the silver dragon shift beneath her.
Good morning, little one, Argenta said softly, almost sounding as though she just woke up herself. She slowly retracted the ceiling made by her wing.
Armelle flinched away from the blinding glare of sunlight off of the white snow, closing her metallic eyes. "Morning," she said sleepily.
Armelle pushed to her feet and Argenta stretched like a cat, showing rows of razor-like pearly teeth as she yawned.
Saphira and Eragon had just begun to stir as well, and Saphira stretched as Argenta had.
Armelle moved to help Eragon up, and he directed her to a creek that had been frozen over in the winter.
Armelle broke off a branch and tore off twigs stemming from it to break through the creek, and then handed it to Eragon.
"A crutch," she explained, "so you won't have to depend on me to move."
He thanked her and took a draught from the cold creek.
She took a drink herself once Eragon was sated and hobbled away on his makeshift crutch.
Armelle moved back toward Argenta, glancing at the mountainous lay of the land. She recognized it through the memories she and Eragon had shared—this was where he found Saphira's egg.
We must go home, Armelle told Argenta quickly. I fear what had happened in our absence. The monsters saw me, and if they see I am gone they will know something is very wrong.
It is too dangerous, Argenta replied sharply, flicking her powerful tail anxiously.
Too dangerous? Armelle was shocked. You're a dragon! A mighty creature that any enemy would run from. If something happened to my father because I was not there to help him—
Would you blame me? Argenta suddenly hissed. We are bound, Armelle. What hurts you, harms me, whether it be physical, emotional, or otherwise. I will not let harm come to your father. He is my family as you are, and as much as he is yours.
Armelle sighed. I know. But we must go back. I cannot lose him.
Argenta nodded and lowered herself into the snow for Armelle to climb on.
Eragon! Armelle called, looking to the Blue Rider that seemed to be arguing with his own dragon. We must go back. Argenta and I are leaving. You should return with us.
Eragon nodded, looking as though he had just finished the same sort of argument with Saphira. He ripped his shirt to pieces and stuffed the fabric into his pants to cushion his already injured legs.
Armelle looked away again to give Eragon some form of privacy again.
Argenta leapt into the sky, followed by Saphira.
The two dragons soared fast and low, and Armelle crouched as close to Argenta's back as she could without impaling herself on sharp spikes to keep below the strong, frozen wind. The ground beneath them was a blur, and Argenta's powerful wings kept her in front of the younger dragon Saphira with ease.
They reached Palancar Valley in the early afternoon.
Armelle gasped when she saw Eragon's family farm set ablaze, black smoke pluming from orange flames.
Argenta! Land there! Armelle called to her.
Argenta obeyed, lowering herself enough for Armelle to slide off of her back.
"Uncle!" Eragon called frantically as Saphira landed. He rushed toward the flames.
Armelle grabbed him quickly to halt him, and Eragon shoved her into the snow in his frenzy.
Argenta growled sharply.
He rushed through the wreckage as Saphira walked around the house and came to his side.
Sorrow breeds here, she said, telling everyone in the valley.
Armelle pushed herself back up as Eragon started yelling at his dragon. "This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't run away with me!"
You would not be alive if we had stayed.
"Look at this!" He screamed. "We could've warned Garrow! It's your fault he didn't get away!" Eragon slammed his fist against a pole, busting the skin on his knuckles enough so blood dripped down his fingers. He stormed toward the house.
Armelle and Argenta traded glances, sharing a feeling like they were intruding where they shouldn't be.
A moment later Argenta nudged Saphira and Armelle. Look. Garrow could not have been taken from here. There are only two trails, two sets of prints.
Saphira conveyed the message to Eragon.
You're right! He replied, looking gratefully at Argenta. He must still be here.
"I will help you look inside," Armelle told Eragon quickly.
We will search around the building and in the forest, Saphira told them.
Armelle and Eragon searched until they found an arm and shoulder revealed beneath a heavy beam. Both Riders tried to push it, and Armelle summoned all of the elven strength she could muster, but she couldn't budge it, even with Eragon's help.
"Saphira! Argenta!" Armelle called, straining to continue holding what little they had been able to lift. "We need you!"
Without a word, both dragons appeared, and Argenta took the beam from her Rider in her large jaws, straining as Saphira got beneath it and pushed it upward with a mighty effort.
Eragon rushed beneath it, and Armelle followed. They both knelt beside the wounded man as Armelle examined him.
His skin was gray and dry, burning with a fever that sucked away all sweat. His lip was split and there was a long scratch down his cheekbone, but all of that seemed superficial. Eragon's uncle was covered in deep burns that were chalk white and oozed a clear liquid. A sickening smell like something rotting hung over him, and his breathing was short and ragged, shaking like a rattle.
Argenta growled lowly.
Murderers, Saphira hissed.
Don't say that. Eragon argued. He can still be saved! We have to get him to Gertude. I can carry him to Carvahall, though.
"Argenta can," Armelle said quickly. "I will walk. Saphira can carry you and Argenta can carry Garrow."
Argenta made a motion with her head like a nod. I will help how I can.
Eragon found a flat board and leather straps. Saphira poked holes in the board with her claws, and made sure Garrow was secure before they tied it to Argenta and Saphira took off.
Are you sure you will be alright, little one? Argenta asked softly, looking at Armelle with a large silver eye.
Armelle patted her jaw. "I'll be fine. No time to waste. Get Garrow to help."
I may be seen.
"It doesn't matter. We'll have to leave anyway."
Argenta took off into the air, and Armelle started up the hill.
Armelle rushed toward Brom's home, trying desperately to find her father and praying to whatever was out there that he was alright.
"Father?!" She called when she reached the storyteller's house.
Her father appeared from the back of the house, seeming to be nursing an injured shoulder. His stressed expression turned relieved when he spotted her.
"Armelle," he said as he wrapped his only child in a tight hug. "Are you alright? Please tell me you're alright."
"I'm fine, Father." She said, holding him as tightly as he held onto her. "What happened to your shoulder?"
"The Ra'zac," he explained, loosening his hug just enough to look at her, tucking her long golden hair behind her ear as he examined her for any sort of injury. "They tried to interrogate me about you after you disappeared, and I thought they had taken you." He paused for a moment, holding her by her elbows gently. "How did you escape?"
"Argenta," Armelle explained softly. "She flew me into the Spine."
Her father looked torn between questioning her more and finding Argenta and kissing her. "You've got a smart creature, girl."
"I should tell you," Armelle said softly, "I know who the other Rider is. The egg has been hatched for a period of time now. The other Rider is the boy we met on our way to Carvahall, the one in the valley. His farm was burned down by the Ra'zac and his uncle is barely alive."
She paused a moment. "Where's Brom?"
"He suspected it was Eragon," her father admitted. "After we were attacked, he saw the dragons fly overhead and he went to help so Argenta and his dragon could return to hiding for their safety."
"I should go help Gertrude," Armelle said quietly. "I'm sure she will need the extra hands."
Her father nodded, closing his hazel eyes and kissing his daughter's forehead. "Go. But be careful."
Armelle nodded and grabbed her black cloak with a silver latch—the one that belonged to her mother—before rushing out of the door.