Hatching
As they walked back to their wagon, Eragon told her of what Merlock had said about the stones. That they were hollow. It made her uneasy. Brom's story was fresh in her mind. She knew that the dragons were gone, the storyteller had said as much just hours before. But the stones were clearly magical, and now she found they were hollow. The idea of them being eggs refused to leave a small corner of her mind, no matter how ridiculous the rest of her brain found the notion. She knew such a thing had not yet occurred to Eragon or he would have been bouncing off the walls. It cemented her desire to speak with Brom, for he would surely know if her suspicions were true or not.
"I'm going to talk to Brom," she told Eragon. "Tell Garrow I'll walk back when I'm done. Or I'll crash at Horst's if it gets too late." He shot her a confused look but nodded in agreement. She grabbed the black stone and slipped it into her pack.
Isabella strode to Brom's hut, knowing the old man did not often linger with the other performers once his part was done. She knocked on the wooden door. After a few moments, it opened a crack and Brom's irritated face appeared in the gap.
A voice rasped, "What do you want, girl?"
"Information." An eyebrow rose.
"Normally it's your cousin that spends his time pestering me." Isabella smirked. Eragon found Brom's tales fascinating. "You might as well come in; if you're anything like him, we'll be talking awhile. His questions never seem to end." He pulled the door back, and Isabella caught a flash of gold on his finger. Peering closer, she noticed a golden ring with a stunning blue sapphire on his right hand.
Brom leaned on a twisted staff embellished with strange carvings. He wore a brown hooded robe like a friar. A pouch hung from the scuffed leather belt clasped around his waist. Above his white beard, a proud eagle nose hooked over his mouth and dominated his face. He peered at Isabella with deep-set eyes shadowed by a gnarled brow, then he stood back and motioned her inside.
Isabella stepped into the house and peered around curiously. She had never been in Brom's house before. Stacks of books surrounded a high-backed, deeply carved wooden chair that faced the mantel; the four legs were shaped like eagle claws, and the seat and back were padded with leather embossed with a swirling rose pattern. A cluster of lesser chairs held piles of scrolls. Ink pots and pens were scattered across a writing desk. "Make room for yourself, but by the lost kings, be careful. This stuff is valuable."
Isabella moved carefully over pages of parchment covered with angular runes. Brom gently lifted cracking scrolls off a chair and placed them on the floor. A cloud of dust flew into the air as she sat. She stifled a sneeze.
Brom bet down and lit the fire with his candle. "Good! Nothing like sitting by a fire for conversation." He threw back his hood to reveal hair that was not white, but silver, then hung a kettle over the flames and settled into the high-backed chair. He peered at her, his gaze sharp and curious.
"Now, what do you want?" He addressed Isabella roughly, but not unkindly.
"Information. And I wanted to show you something." His eyebrows rose slightly once more.
"Let's see this thing then." She pulled out the black stone, holding it in both hands. As his eyes fell on it, Brom choked on the pipe he had just put in his mouth. "Where did you get such a thing!?" He demanded roughly.
"Found it. It appeared in front of me while I was hunting in the Spine."
"Was there another?" His voice turned even more urgent. She looked at him curiously. Isabella had never seen such an intense expression on the old man, even when he was telling the story of the Rider's fall. She debated on whether to tell him or not. In the end, it was fairly obvious Brom did know what the stones were.
"Yes. A blue one appeared as well. Eragon has that one." Brom closed his eyes and slumped back in his chair.
"Of all the…," he trailed off momentarily. Then he huffed out a laugh that held no true mirth. "Wyrda indeed." He let out a heavy sigh. Isabella watched him curiously. At the mention of Eragon, all of the intensity seemed to have drained out of him, leaving him weary. Diminished somehow. She put the thought aside to examine later.
"You know what these are," she stated. His eyes opened and he looked over at her once more. The lines in his face seemed more pronounced, like he'd aged several years in just moments.
"Indeed, I do. What you have there, is one of only four dragon eggs left in Alagaësia." The words hung heavily in the room. It was Isabella's turn to close her eyes. How in the world had two dragon eggs managed to appear in front of her and Eragon of all people? "And a great many people would kill you to get them back, including the king." Her eyes snapped open and focused on him intently once more. "Have you shown anyone else?" Isabella winced, finding herself unable to meet Brom's eyes.
"Garrow and Eragon took it to Merlock, to see if it was valuable," she admitted quietly. Astonishment flickered across the old man's face, followed quickly by rage.
"You…you're telling me, you tried to sell two dragon eggs?" He asked, his voice slow, and full of carefully restrained emotion.
"Er…we didn't know they were dragon eggs. Merlock didn't take either of them." Brom shook his head in either disbelief or denial of her words. In the end, she decided to ask another question to distract the storyteller.
"How did it get here?" Brom stared at her as if wondering what to say. The silence was suddenly broken by a cracking sound. Isabella jumped as she felt the egg moving in her hands. Then there was a squeak which reverberated from the egg through her fingers. Brom swore, and sat up straighter, gaping at her with his mouth hanging open. In any other situation, Isabella would have laughed having never seen Brom with such an undignified expression.
Suddenly a crack appeared on the stone. She quickly put the stone on the floor. Then another crack appeared, and another. Transfixed, Isabella was unable to stop herself leaning forward. At the top of the stone, where all the cracks met, a small piece wobbled, as if it were balanced on something, then rose and toppled to the floor. After another series of squeaks, a small dark head poked out of the hole. More pieces of the egg fell away and the head was followed by a weirdly angled body. The shock on Brom's face soon turned to undisguised awe. Soon the creature was all the way out of the egg. It stayed in place for a moment, then skittered into the firelight.
The dragon was of similar size to her forearm and despite having just broken free of an egg, it appeared dignified and noble. Its scales were of the same jet black as the egg and, like the egg, seemed to almost absorb the light coming from the fire. It fanned its wings; they were what had made it appear so contorted. The wings were several times longer than its body and ribbed with thin fingers of bone that extended from the wing's front edge, forming a line of widely spaced talons. The dragon's head was roughly triangular. Two diminutive white fangs curved down out of its upper jaw. They looked very sharp. Its claws were also white, like polished ivory, and slightly serrated on the inside curve. A line of small spikes ran down the creature's spine from the base of its head to the tip of its tail. A hollow where its neck and shoulders joined created a larger-than-normal gap between the spikes.
Isabella shifted slightly, and the dragon's head snapped around. Hard, deep-red eyes fixed on her. They were the colour of freshly spilled blood and were quite unnerving. The dragon's gaze seemed intelligent. She kept very still. Despite its young age, she suspected it could do a fair bit of damage if startled.
Brom began uttering a rapid flow of melodic words she didn't understand. The dragon swung its head around and pierced him with it's stare. Isabella glanced up at the old man, a tear trickled down both of his cheeks. He finished speaking and took a ragged breath.
The dragon lost interest in Isabella and Brom, awkwardly turning to explore the room, squealing as it bumped into a wall or furniture. With a flutter of wings, it leapt onto another chair, sending parchment flying all over the place. It squeaked, its mouth was open pitifully, like a young bird's, displaying rows of pointed teeth.
"I never thought I should see such a sight," Brom whispered.
"Is it yours?" She asked. He looked at her then, a wistful longing on his face.
"No. It hatched while you were holding the egg. The dragon is yours. Go ahead, touch the hatchling," he urged. Isabella moved forwards, kneeling on the floor by the dragon. Tentatively, she reached out with her left hand and touched its flank. A blast of icy energy surged into her hand and raced up her arm, burning in her veins like liquid fire. She fell back with a wild cry. An iron clang filled her ears, and she heard a soundless scream of rage. Every part of her body seared with pain. She struggled to move but was unable to. After what seemed like hours, warmth seeped back into her limbs, leaving them tingling. Shivering uncontrollably, she tried to push herself upright. Something stopped her. Trying to shift her head, Isabella realised Brom was kneeling on the floor beside her, holding her head in his lap. Seeing she was fully with it again, he withdrew, moving back to his chair.
"I didn't want you to hurt yourself," he explained.
"What was that?" She demanded.
"Check your hand."
Her left hand was numb, her fingers paralyzed. Alarmed, she watched as the middle of her palm shimmered and formed a diffused white oval. The skin itched and burned like a spider bite. Her heart pounded frantically.
"You are a Dragon Rider now," Brom said, awe in his voice.
"Did it really have to hurt that much?" She complained, groaning as pair flared through her body at her attempt to stand. To her irritation, Brom chuckled lightly.
"That was your bond with your dragon forming."
As Isabella tried to wrap her mind around the idea of her having a dragon, something brushed against her consciousness, like a finger trailing over her skin. She felt it again, but this time it solidified into a tendril of thought through which she could feel a growing curiosity. It was as if an invisible wall surrounding her thoughts had fallen away, and she was now free to reach out with his mind. She was afraid that without anything to hold her back, she would float out of his body and be unable to return, becoming a spirit of the ether. Scared, she pulled away from the contact. The new sense vanished as if she had closed her eyes. She eyed the motionless dragon.
"What is happening to me? What was that in my head?" Brom looked surprised.
"Your dragon making contact with you. When it grows a little older, you will be able to speak with your minds," he explained. "You will need to learn to defend your mind from others who may attempt to gain access to your mind."
"People will do that?"
"It is possible. The king in particular is incredibly skilled at attacking people's minds. You won't be able to defend yourself against him for many years, if ever. But you can defend against his servants that are magicians."
"Can you teach me?"
"I can. It seems I will have to teach you how to take care of your dragon as well."
"You know how to take care of dragons?"
"I know many things. You must keep the hatchling a secret. It will be very vulnerable until it grows." Isabella nodded.
"Do you think the egg Eragon has will hatch as well?" A guarded expression took over the old man's face.
"It's possible. If it does, then I will train the two of you together. Give it a week to let your dragon grow and see if his egg hatches, then both of you should return so I can begin your instruction."
"I'm not sure how both Eragon and I are going to manage to sneak away from the farm at the same time."
A scaly leg scraped against her side, and she jumped. Thankfully, the painful energy did not shock her again. Puzzled, she rubbed the dragon's head with her left hand. A light tingling ran up her arm, similar to when she had first touched the egg. The dragon nuzzled her, arching its back like a cat which made her chuckle. She slid a finger over its thin wing membranes. They felt like old parchment, velvety and warm, but still slightly damp. Hundreds of slender veins pulsed through them.
"How am I going to explain this?" She wondered, glancing down at the silvery mark shining on her left palm.
"I'd suggest gloves," Brom told her dryly. She rolled her eyes.
Again, the tendril touched her mind, but this time, instead of curiosity, she sensed an overpowering, ravenous hunger.
"Er, have you got any meat? I think it's hungry."
"Of course." Brom stood and moved into another room. He returned moments later with two strips of meat which he handed to her. She slowly fed the dragon until both strips were gone. Its stomach seemed to bulge out slightly. Isabella chuckled. It gave a mighty yawn and came over, settling in her lap. Brom smiled the most genuine smile she had ever seen on the man.
"I cannot believe I lived to see such a thing," he murmured.
"Can you tell if the dragon is a male or female?" She asked. Brom reached out and then paused, hand in mid-air.
"May I?"
"Er…" Isabella was surprised by the question. "Sure." Brom gently petted the small dragon, currently purring in her lap. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he ran his fingers over the scales.
"I suspect it is a male. I'll be able to tell better once he's awake and a little bigger." Isabella nodded. She sighed reluctantly. It was going to be a long walk back. It was tempting to crash at Horst's, but she didn't want to have to explain about the dragon.
"I'd best get going. It's a long trip to back home." Brom nodded, also looking reluctant. "I'll come back in a week, hopefully with Eragon." Brom nodded a second time.
"I will meet you at the edge of the Spine at midday a week from today. It should be easier for you to get to, and your dragon will not be noticed." Isabella nodded her agreement. It made sense. The Spine was closer to Garrow's house than Carvahall itself and she was reluctant to leave the dragon at the farm alone where Garrow or Roran may come across him and attack.
Isabella stood up and gathered the dragon into her arms. She placed him into her pack, so it would stay warm on the long trek. She made her way to the door before stopping and glancing back at the utter disaster the dragon had made of Brom's house.
"Sorry about the mess," she said. Brom chuckled.
"A few stray papers are nothing compared to the sight you gifted me this evening. Wait a moment." He stood and grabbed his staff. Then he vanished into another room before reappearing with several pieces of what looked like leather over his arm along with some additional strips of meat. "Here, use this to build a hut. You'll need to make it quite large as the dragon will grow quickly. And if the second egg hatches, it will need to house two." Brom could not hide his excitement at the prospect, his earlier weariness seemingly forgotten. The hint of wistful longing was back.
"Thank you," she replied gratefully. He nodded and Isabella finally left. It was bitterly cold outside, even more so after having spent over an hour in the warmth of Brom's house. Thankfully, she did not encounter anyone as she walked along the road out of town. The moon was bright and provided her with ample light even once she left the village.
Judging by the sky, which was clear and shining with stars, it was just after midnight by the time she arrived back at the farm. Snow had been falling steadily for the last hour. Instead of going inside straight away, she wandered over to the grassy knoll and found a tree that was out of sight of the farmhouse. She gathered some sticks and used those in combination with the leathers Brom had given her to craft a rudimentary shelter high up in the branches. The last of the leathers went inside as a bed along with another strip of meat.
Just as she finished, she noticed a dark head poking out of her pack, looking around curiously. She picked up the dragon and placed him into the shelter. His head poked out and stared at her.
"You need to stay here," she told him. He squeaked and blinked at her. She wasn't sure if the dragon had understood her or not. She started walking back towards the house. A feeling stole over her, and she knew, although she didn't know how she knew, that the dragon meant to follow her. Reaching out for their strange connection, she felt the same vast openness. She tried to impress the need to stay upon the dragon. Eventually there was a faint hint of acknowledgement, and she withdrew back to the safety of her own mind.
Isabella collapsed onto her bed as soon as she made it to her bedroom. The day had not gone as she had expected. Never in a million years would she have dreamed she would have become a dragon rider. She was just a simple farm girl. She knew nothing of magic and dragons. Sleep did not come easily that night.
Isabella woke the next morning having had a restless night full of strange dreams. Judging by the light coming in through the window, it was barely after dawn. Quietly, she slipped her clothes on and left the bedroom. To her surprise, Eragon was already awake. Before even Garrow.
"Morning. How did your talk with Brom go?"
"Has anything strange happened with your stone?" She asked, ignoring his question. He frowned in surprise.
"Er, I thought I heard some sort of weird squeaking noise from it a couple of days ago." Isabella grimaced slightly. She was torn between feeling bad that her egg had hatched before his, given how fascinated he had been with them, and being unsure about having two dragons around that the king himself was hunting for. Dragons were a lot harder to hide than eggs. "What's going on? What did Brom say?" She sighed. The only real option was to show him the dragon. If his egg did hatch, he should be prepared.
"After chores today, I have something to show you." Clearly curious, he nodded in agreement before starting to make some breakfast.
Thankfully, their chores were light now that they harvesting season was over. Fields needed to be maintained over the winter, but between four of them, the work went by quickly. Her mind was firmly on the dragon. Her dragon. Eragon was also clearly distracted. Twice Roran had to stop him doing something stupid while his mind was away in the clouds.
Finally, the two of them were able to sneak off. As they approached the tree by the grassy knoll, she spotted the shelter. And the jet-black dragon that was sitting on the branch in front of it. Her breath caught in his throat. It looked even more magnificent in the daylight.
"Is that…a dragon?"
"Yeah. He hatched while I was with Brom. Yours is an egg too apparently." He blinked.
"Will my egg hatch?"
"Dunno. Brom didn't really go into detail on why it hatched. He said to come back in a week, and he'd train me to look after it. And you if yours hatches as well."
"How does Brom know how to look after a dragon?" Eragon frowned.
"No idea. He wouldn't say. Just that he knows enough. I'm glad he managed to stay in the tree though. I was a bit worried some predator might have eaten him."
The dragon started squeaking excitedly when it saw them. As soon as Isabella dropped the last strips of meat Brom had given her at the base of the trunk, the dragon glided down. While it voraciously tore apart the food, Eragon examined the shelter.
"I guess it can hunt for itself already," he noted.
"Which is good. We don't have enough spare to feed a hungry dragon," Isabella replied. He nodded.
"Let alone two," he added. She sat on the ground next to the dragon, gently stroking its head. It butted against her hand, and she noticed Eragon was watching with a longing expression on his face. She frowned. There was something about that look she couldn't put her finger on.
"Does it have a name?"
"Not yet. And it's a 'he'." She had no idea how to even go about naming a dragon. According to Brom's stories, he would grow more able to communicate and maybe he would want to pick out his own name in the future.
"I think we should move the shelter into the forest," he suggested after a few moments. "It's too close to the house." Isabella nodded.
"I got back so late last night; this was the best I could be bothered to do. But you're right. The forest will be better hidden." The worked together to dismantle the hut and relocate it to the Spine. It took them a while to find a tree that looked good enough to use. Eventually, she settled on a large pine where the leaves would offer at least a little camouflage.
They had some time before they needed to be back, so Isabella put the dragon on her shoulder and went to explore the forest. She talked constantly, telling the dragon everything she knew about the forest, occasionally telling stories of her hunts with Eragon. Whether it understood or not was anyone's guess, but sometimes she felt an odd nudge against her consciousness and received the faint impression of feelings. So far, she had only really felt hunger and curiosity. Throughout the day the emotions multiplied, and she felt happiness and contentment, though they stayed faint.
At sunset, she knew it was time to return. Eragon had gone back a little while before to fend off any questions. Reluctantly, Isabella placed the dragon back in the shelter and reached out to impress on him the need to stay. She received annoyance in return which made her smile slightly. Eragon had suggested a leash so he couldn't wander too far from the tree, but Isabella thought it wrong to leash sure a creature. She would trust that the dragon would follow her instructions.
Eragon had clearly done his part well as there were no incoming questions from Garrow or Roran about her late return. They simply handed her the meal they had saved and turned the topic to the coming weeks.