Chapter 6

Murtagh watched as Galbatorix raged through the castle, tearing apart precious library and lowly storeroom alike in his fury. It had been three days since the green dragon egg had been snatched from the dungeons and they were no closer to recovering it, or even to finding out what manner of creature had torn through Galbatorix's enchantments as if they had been fragile lace rather than the intimidating, robust protections they had been.

They'd captured the creature in Gil'ead – it had headed north at a remarkably fast pace – and reclaimed the egg. Unfortunately, none of the magicians in Gil'ead knew how to teleport an object through space, so Galbatorix had planned on Murtagh making an appearance on his barely-big-enough-to-ride Thorn to personally retrieve it. He also hastily sent away the Ra'zac from their mission to capture Eragon's cousin to keep an eye on the wayward egg.

Then, against all odds, the creature escaped, defeating both the Ra'zac and the Lethrblaka (by freezing them, of all things!) and absconding with the egg again. And judging by its path, it was headed to the elves.

It rankled. Hence why Galbatorix was currently destroying the castle. (Murtagh would never admit it out loud, but he found the creature's blatant boldness and Galbatorix's reaction hilarious and pettily satisfying.)

Nasuada had heard the recent news sweeping among the ranks of the rebels like wildfire: someone had stolen the green dragon egg from Galbatorix's castle. Normally, she wouldn't put stock in such rumors – outlandish tales such as this were commonplace – but her spellcasters in Du Vrangr Gata had scried unusual movements in Galbatorix's army, especially in Gil'ead. Either the king was planning something big, or the rumors of the green dragon egg being free of Galbatorix's hold were true.

She wondered why the thief hadn't also made off with the red dragon egg.

Regardless, she needed to contact the elves. Perhaps their spellweavers had divined the truth. Perhaps they even had eyes on the green dragon egg at this very moment.

If the green dragon egg was free, they needed to find its Rider as soon as possible. Another Rider in the war against Galbatorix would prove to only be a help, especially with Eragon's disability.

Nasuada hoped the elves would honor the agreement between them and the Varden regarding the ferrying of the egg between the two groups.

Eragon approached Islanzadí's throne room with trepidation. He'd been summoned along with Arya and his master, interrupted in the middle of a training session. Oromis looked perplexed by the intrusion, but the messenger would only say that it was urgent that they report to Islanzadí right away.

Eragon met Orik by the throne room. "Do you have any idea what this is about?" he asked the dwarf.

Orik replied, "Nay, not a clue. I only hope it is as important as the queen implied in her summons."

The small group entered the throne room to find Islanzadí pacing side to side agitatedly like a caged jungle cat. She looked up as they approached, her slanted eyes narrow.

"You are all wondering why I have summoned you here now," she stated.

"Aye," Orik agreed.

"I will not tarry with my words. Our spellweavers have determined that someone has stolen the green dragon's egg from Galbatorix."

The reaction was immediate. Eragon gasped, Orik muttered a low oath, and both Arya and Oromis both sharpened their gazes.

There was a loud commotion outside before a giant, blue, scaly head forced its way into the throne room. Is this true? Saphira demanded, projecting her voice so that all in the throne room could hear her. One of the remaining dragon eggs is free?

"Peace, Saphira," Oromis said with a frown. But it seemed that Glaedr was similarly agitated, as Eragon heard the telltale thuds of wingbeats above the throne room.

Islanzadí nodded. "Yes. We confirmed it when we scried the egg in Gil'ead, breaking through several enchantments. We know not who did the deed, only that they shortly after retrieved the egg and headed north. We can only hope they're headed our way. I have alerted the scouts along the fringes of Du Weldenvarden to keep an eye out for any travelers."

"Why not send a team of elves to actively find and retrieve it?" Eragon asked.

Islanzadí replied, "By the rate at which our thief is traveling, based on how fast they made it from Urû'baen, it is likely they have already reached the forest. Acting now would be too late."

But the egg is headed toward us, right? Saphira confirmed.

"Yes. We will be in the possession of the green dragon egg within the next few days."

Danny woke up in the middle of the night to something attempting to latch on to his arm. He groggily shook it away. It disappeared for a moment before biting at his chest, directly over his heart and his ghostly core.

"Ouch!" he hissed, fully awake now. He flailed around and somehow managed to dislodge the thing.

Danny could barely see in the darkness with his human eyes, so he let ectoplasm infuse his eyes, allowing him to see. The glowing strands of script floating through the forest caught his gaze before he noticed something a bit more immediate.

There was a glowing cord of ancient script hovering in the air before him, the end of which looked incomplete, as though waiting for something to fill in the gaps. It waved through the air before striking again. Danny put an arm up and grimaced as the strand sank its teeth in. It didn't exactly hurt – in fact, it felt more like an electrical shock – but it was still unpleasant. The strand gnawed on his arm for a few moments before retreating, drooping in defeat.

Danny followed the strand to its source and found the other end attached to the green egg, which was sticking out of his pack. He poked at the base of the strand with his finger. The egg broadcasted feelings of restlessness, confusion, and hurt. Danny wondered what he'd done to provoke such a response.

Then, the strand retreated back into the egg, leaving the normal low levels of ancient script surrounding the egg that Danny didn't feel like messing with. Danny watched the egg for a moment for any more strange surprises, but it seemed that the egg was done messing with him. Grimacing at his interrupted sleep (but really, it wasn't a terribly new sensation to be woken up in the middle of the night by something, usually a ghost), Danny settled back into the tree branch. He soon dozed off.

Danny woke long after the sun had risen to a crick in his neck and cramps in his muscles from sleeping in a tree all night long. He made a face at the discomfort before stretching and yawning. Afterwards, he ate a short breakfast, still nestled in the tree.

He checked on the egg before setting off. It was sullenly ignoring him. Danny wondered what that glowing strand had been, to make it act in such a way.

Despite being over thirty feet in the air, Danny rolled off the branch and fell straight down to the ground below. He landed heavily, but he'd enhanced his bones and muscles with ectoplasm before landing, so such a fall didn't hurt, even in human form.

"Now, where to…?" he murmured to himself. He could still head straight north, but something told him that wouldn't be the best use of his time. Instead, he channeled energy into his eyes to see the lines of script that weaved through the trees. They seemed to point in numerous directions, but there was definitely a thick bundle of them that headed northeast. Danny figured he'd find an elven city at the end of the bundle. He transformed in preparation to fly northeast.

Mistake.

The instant he transformed, all his senses were assaulted by script. Danny screamed as he was blinded and deafened, assaulted by a cloying scent and tightly bound. He instinctively let a wave of ectoplasmic energy erupt from his core and the sensations disappeared just long enough for Danny to hastily transform back into a human.

Danny's eyes were scrunched closed and his hands clasped over his ears. When he didn't feel any different, he cautiously peeked one eye open. He shut it almost immediately; he was hypersensitive to light at the moment. He let his hands drift away from his ears as the ringing faded and waited a few more minutes before trying to open his eyes again. When he did so successfully, he gasped.

He was surrounded by a ring, about ten feet in diameter, of death. All the underbrush tickling his elbows, all the grass under his feet, all the insects buzzing by his ear – all dead, all wasted. Danny shook. How had this happened? His ectoplasmic energy wasn't powerful enough to cause such ruin like this!

The script. It was a protection for the forest, keeping it healthy and whole, and Danny had burned right through it, taking a bunch of innocent life forms with it. Danny felt sick. If he wasn't careful, he could cause a slew of death in this place. Besides that, he couldn't transform, otherwise he'd be assaulted again. He'd been careless.

Was the egg okay?

Danny took the egg out of his pack, examining it. It seemed hale and hearty on the outside. Danny very, very carefully channeled ectoplasmic energy into his eyes, enough to see that the ancient script surrounding the egg was still whole. The script around the egg must have been much more powerful than the script at the fringes of the forest. Danny sighed in relief.

…So, he couldn't transform while in these woods without inciting dire consequences, likely brought on by the heavy density of script in the area. And it was probably only going to get worse as he got closer to the center of the forest.

Danny shuddered. He'd never been so glad for the safety and solidity of his human form. He could deal with not transforming for a while, at least until he made it to wherever he was supposed to go.

With that cheery thought, Danny shouldered his bag again and began trekking along a game trail in the woods, following the thickest density of script.

Fadrau was having a peaceful day. He'd received the message from Queen Islanzadí to be on the lookout for anyone traveling in Du Weldenvarden, for they might be the thief that retrieved the egg from Galbatorix. So far, he'd seen nor sensed anything unusual.

Then there was a scream, an explosion, and a terrible ripple in the wards surrounding Du Weldenvarden.

Fadrau dashed toward the center of the commotion. Were Galbatorix's forces invading? He immediately cast out with his mind to his partner, who was some leagues away, informing him of the potential danger.

When he made it to the epicenter of the calamity, he couldn't help but gasp. There was a circle of death in the forest, surrounded by the tattered remains of the wards, which had a hole blasted right through them.

Fadrau immediately began patching the wards. It was a small breech, so it wasn't terribly difficult to close the hole, but it was worrying that there was something in the woods that could destroy the wards. Thankfully, some of the older wards seemed intact, making his job easier.

His partner brushed up against his mind, and Fadrau immediately debriefed him. Fadrau was, in turn, informed that a team of spellweavers from Osilon would be at the site shortly to determine the cause of the commotion and to address any remaining weakness in the wards.

Then Fadrau noticed a faint smell. It smelled like lightning and a hint of decay and led down one of the game trails. Beyond that, his sensitive eyes could pick up the faint impression of footprints on the trail. Fadrau frowned severely, his eyebrows forming a vee.

Whatever had caused the disturbance was still out there.

So, Fadrau ran on the game trail with light feet, intent on intercepting the creature which had damaged the wards.

This is the start of my Fall Break, so I will be updating both The Phantom and The Thief once per day through Tuesday. Never fear, the cliffie shall be resolved tomorrow!

-HM