Edited 1/29/22 - all chapters are getting a overhaul. Things might not match until this process is complete.
I'll let you know that I wanted to continue and make this chapter longer, but my brother asked me to end it where it is, and because I've kinda been ignoring him with the last few chapters I gave in.
I do not own the Inheritance Cycle. The Pellinor book series was used to help with some details- those I also disclaim.
Enjoy, and if you take a moment tell me what you think,


A Journey

The following morning, she tiredly got dressed in a pair traveling clothes, and after lacing up her boots she hastily brushed through her hair which she hid under a widely brimmed hat, she swung her pack onto her back. Rose picked up an undyed woolen cap and a folded piece of thick paper from off a table, and after slipping the cap into her bag, she walked out of her chamber towards the room where Tornac was staying. She stood outside of Tornac's chamber for a very long moment, debating whether or not to knock and talk to him. Eventually she slipped the folded paper under the gap of his door and quickly stepped away, feeling rather cowardly as she descended the stairway.

Downstairs, she went through a huge flagged kitchen dominated by a long, scrubbed wooden table. Copper and iron pots dangled from hooked racks suspended from the ceiling, and the walls were lined with jars filled with seeds and oils and flour, and rows of fruit and vegetables, and herbs and spices hung from small hooks. Against one wall was a huge health and next to it was a black iron stove. The women preparing the morning meal looked at her curiously, but Rose ignored them and asked the woman, who she thought to be in charge of the kitchen, for some fresh bread and cheeses and berries and slices of cold meat. The woman glanced at her questioningly but wordlessly nodded her round head, and made for the pantry. When she came back, she handed the neatly wrapped packages to Rose, and turned back to her work. Rose shoved the food into her bag, along with a full canteen of mulled wine. She looked around for a simple breakfast, and after grabbing an apple from the table, Rose exited the kitchen through a tiny roofed line into the courtyard, into the woodland behind it.

As the sun slipped higher into the sky, Rose looked uneasily behind her, pulling at the constricting straps of her pack, it didn't feel nearly as heavy as she feared it might when she had packed. Seeing nothing but plant life; lilac bushes that grew in clumps, currant vines, wild berries and deciduous climbing flowers of many colors grew in tingled clusters under the trees, she walked on. The sky was a very clear blue with very little moisture to it, good weather for walking. The walking emptied Rose's mind of everything that troubled her. She entered the rhythms of her body letting her arms swing and her legs push her forward, at times she wiped her brow or took a swig from her bottle. She was wearing linen trousers and a light tunic, and she was even wearing a straw brimmed hat on her to prevent the heat from baking her face, but even so the sweat ran down her back in gullies and she was sure her face was puce. The dampened heat didn't allow her think about her future or her fears or the reason she was out there, though these lingered in the shadows of her mind.

Rose stopped in a small low grassed clearing, and swung the pack from her back. Putting the pack down, she untied the sheepskin roll that hung down and placed the fleece on the ground. She sat down next to it, resting her pack on top of her lap and waited, spinning a piece of grass between her fingers. She did not have to wait long, because soon she felt the familiar intelligence press against her own, Rose looked up at him and allowed Thorn into her mind. Above she could hear the cadenced thump of his wings as they beat against the air. Are you ready? Thorn asked.

I have to be. Rose bit her lip, and added nervously, Hurry down, Thorn, before I change my mind.

Thorn answered by quickly diving out of the sky and landing smoothly in front of her. I hurried, he said, his tail pounding contently against the ground. Have you changed your mind?

She scowled at him. I have not, said she getting onto her feet. I still believe this to be foolishness.

It is as you said when we last spoke-

"There is no need to remind me." She jumped, realizing that she had spoken aloud. "I know my reasons."

Rose took her pack and the roll of sheepskin from off the ground, then walked to Thorn. With trembling fingers she shook out the sheepskin and set it over the dip near the base of his neck. He snaked his head around and watched her with a single red eye as she straightened the worn sheepskin blanket. Once the sheepskin was arranged so that two looped coils of robe hung off down his sides equally, she crawled under his torso and slipped the loops around his broad legs which she tied together with a length of rope she drew from her bag. Thorn blinked at the skins.

It will due, he said, spreading his wings in sudden flourish, and Rose despite herself stepped back, admiring her work with a frown. As thick as the sheepskin may be, she doubted it would last long against the sharp edges of Thorn's scales.

"I hope so," she said almost to herself, "else my skin shall soon be in tatters."

With a disheartened sigh, she grabbed a firm hold of one of the spikes that ran down Thorn's spine, and awkwardly leapt onto his back. Rose nearly went over the top and fell, but Thorn shifted himself and this allowed her to uneasily balance herself before she could slip off. You're too far forward, he said swinging his head around to look at her, maybe if you lean back you won't fall. Rose nodded and sat back as Thorn advised, this caused her to roll off of him and onto the ground below. Thorn looked down at her, his eye glinting with humor, and she blinked at him dazedly. Are you hurt? he asked laughingly.

"I'm fine, no thanks to you," she said, rubbing her arm. She was confident that she was going to have a few new bruises by the time this trip was over.

Thorn's bulky chest grumbled, in a way that made Rose think him to be laughing at her. Ignoring his humor, she stood up and attempted at mounting for the second time, this time she didn't jump high enough and ended up hanging over his back on her stomach, like a sack of grain, she slid off and landed next to him on her feet. On her third try she jumped too high and missed his back completely, landing on the other side of Thorn on her back. When she finally landed on his back, again, it was only because Thorn lowered himself as much as he could to the ground for her to do so, and she gripped firmly onto the pointed spine in front of her so that she was almost laying across his spine. As she cautiously scooted forward, until she was cozily positioned, Thorn stood up. She looked down and nearly swore. Thorn hadn't seemed to up so high before, but now she atop a creature who was suddenly as tall as an oak tree! She bit her lip to keep her from shouting and leaned forward, clutching tightly onto his spine which was smooth and her hands where unexpectedly slick with sudden worry.

Are we to go? Thorn asked.

Rose drew in a deep breath. For now, if you don't mind, I ask that you simply walk, she told him through their mind-touch, not trusting her voice.

Thorn winded his head to glance at her but whatever emotion he felt or saw he kept well hidden from her, and after a short moment he looked away. He said nothing as he lively walked around the valley, his Rider bouncing along, holding firmly onto one of his white spines. When he made a full circle, he looked back at Rose again and stretched out his wings.

Now, he said, we fly.

Thorn! Don't-wait! she protested, but it was too late as he already bound into the air, his winging beating the air as they took them higher and higher. Rose looked around wildly and, after tearing the hat from her head, and shoving it underneath her bottom so that it would not fly away, she clamped her eyes shut.

It is too late, Thorn said, after a time. Open your eyes, little one, and see.

Fearfully, Rose forced open her eyes and stared at the landscape beneath her. For a long time she didn't recognize it as a landscape, it looked like a strange and awesome painting. In the distance a sinking sun lit up the western sea, the water flamed like a molten gold, and in the east jagged mountains climbed dangerously into the sky. They were very high up, in the upper regions of air, and she could see very far, and there were no clouds at all only a shadow moving over the earth which she recognized as being Thorn's.

It's, Rose began to say then paused unable to find the correct word. That is quite a view.

That I know, Thorn replied, his wings thumping loudly on the air, as he kept them unmoving above the land. When I am higher it is better but I shall not take you any higher for now. I fear you might start to feel ill.

Rose blinked slowly in annoyance. Thank you for thinking so strongly of me.

Thorn snorted in amusement. Being up too high makes me unwell, and I assume that it will be the same for you, he said.

How high have you gone? said she, as Thorn began to move them forward.

He began a vibrating hum beneath her. Very high, he told her, high enough, where I was above the clouds. The breathing was hard and thin there, and there are no birds.

Rose twisted her hands around the spike and looked at the blue of the sky, after a moment she closed her eyes. It's bad enough up here, she said. Forgive me, Thorn, I very glad you enjoy your flying but I'll be much happier when I'm once again safely on the ground.

You are no where safer than where you are now, said he after a long moment.

Rose opened her eyes and scowled. I don't doubt you think so. She looked to the south and saw the winding valley not far in the distance. For the first time she thought she understood why it was called the Serpent's Vale, from so high those leaning stones below entwined messily from the across the hilled plains. I wonder if they were placed to seem this way, she mussed to Thorn, like tiny colorless snakes slithering across the land.

Thorn grumbled through their mental link and dived sharply at the ground causing Rose to yelp with surprise and nearly loss her grip on his spine. Feeling herself slipping, she tightened her grip by digging her knees after far as she could into Thorn's chest. The ground below grew closer and closer, and the wind blasted against her, and she closing her eyes leaning close to his thick gleaming neck beside his ivory spines. After a moment she began to relax as the blasts of cooled air tangled her hair but the moment was fleeting as Thorn's wings flared out and they were lifted in the sky, jolting her enough that her teeth to chattered together and she nearly fell from his back.

Never, Rose told him sternly; when she was able to speak again as the fright of his sudden actions caused her momentary forget how to think, never do that again.

It is good practice, Thorn said.

Practice for what? Frightening me to death? You just about did!

No, however if we were to be attacked, he reasoned, and I was forced to dive, you should know how not to fall off.

I don't care if The King himself is behind us trying to blast us from the sky, do not do that again!

Thorn grumbled a laugh, and returned to his former height.

After the dive, Thorn flew gentler in his flying with Rose, and after a time she began to relax, finding herself able to loosen her rigid grip on his spike. They remained in the air, save for a few short moments when Rose asked Thorn to land so that she could get her jerkin out of the bag as it was chilled up in the sky, and thrust the crumpled straw hat inside the sack, but after that they returned to the skies until the sun dipped below the horizon.

As Rose made camp in a large circling of toppling stones, Thorn lay coiled near a tall clump of briars close by. Carved into the granite were two signs, she examined the carvings curiously, they looked very much like a set of runes she had been forced to learn in her childhood though she could not recall what they might read. She looked away after a moment and began to build a fire, it was unnecessary Rose knew but she didn't fancy a night spent in the blackness of night. When the flames leapt up in that dark valley, she sat on one of the tipped over stones. "It's quicker to fly," she said. "What had taken over five days of travel, we have just completed in mere hours. How bored you must get waiting for us. What is it that you do with all your time?" Rose looked over at Thorn.

I hunt, he said.

"It's no wonder you're so big!" she exclaimed, widening her eyes at him as he began to thump his tail in amusement.

I chase the creatures but if my stomach is not craving for meat I do not kill unnecessarily.

Rose nodded and looked into the fire. After a long time she got the food out of her pack and cooked a light meal, pieces of meat that were cooked on a heated stone and some fruits. Then she lay down on the sheepskins, as she had left her sleeping roll at the farmhouse, and swiftly feel asleep.

Late in the afternoon that next day they reached the wide meads near Teirm, which was rising tall and white out of the fields. The citadel flung up, battlemented wall within battlemented wall, and its high towers thrust into the sky gracefully and proud. Below the road pushed steady uphill, past meadow of rich grass growing in wide terraces, which were often divided by brown streams and treed with fine strands of lofty pines or elms. Occasionally they could see the Toark River winding many miles to the south, glittering in the sun.

By the time they drew close to the walls of Teirm, in the evening, a dark band of clouds had spend over most of the sky and a chill wind was blowing, threatening to cast Thorn from of the sky. The light dimmed as the clouds ate up the sun.

Thorn tussled his way through the wind to a sea cliff not far the city. He was looking for something, but what Rose did not know, then after a time he suddenly fold his wings back, and brought them into a wild dive straight through a scarcely visible hole far above the rolling sea. A dozen feet below waves stumbled the shoreline, a littoral of black rocks shining, dimly wet.

They had found the cave in the nick of time. As they entered, a deafening clap of thunder broke over their heads, heralding the storm's first heavy drops. Inside it smelled fusty and close. Thorn landed roughly, throwing Rose from his back and rolling onto the sandy floor where the cave bent. When she sat up, she blinked wobbly at Thorn, she could still see the mouth of cave and a circle of surreal light shone from it veiling Thorn. "That was unpleasant," she said, "if I were to put it mildly."

To her surprise, Thorn did not react. He collapsed heavily onto the ground where he landed and stayed there. After a short moment Rose inquired after him, and only after the second time did he respond. My wings ache me, he said, and my head feels unwell.

She looked at him concerned, then stood up and began to tie the knots that held the sheepskins to his back. She left the ropes where they were, but tossed the skins to the side. "Are you feeling any better?" she asked.

No, he said. I am tired. I'm going to sleep this off. Then, with a disconcerting swiftness she had never witnessed before, Thorn lay his head down and fell asleep instantly.

Rose lay down, spread out on the sheepskins, and listened to the rain and thunder and waves. The sound was oddly comforting, even laying in a cold cave in middle a cliff, where the only way to get out alive was by dragon back. For a time she studied the storm outside, watching as the black waves below roll and crash into the rocks, as lighting shoot fiercely across the sky, as leaves blew down from the treetops high above and into the spinning water. That night she got very little sleep and when she did it was of a restless sort, as she spent it laying on the sheepskin, tracing over it charred edges with shaking fingers. Her mind was racing with many thoughts.