Chapter 20: Peaks of Sorrow II
They lurked about like hungry snowhounds in the wilderness that surrounded the rudimentary city, waiting for the chance to hook their fangs into the flesh of understanding. The settlement loomed up above the sea of trees it floated upon, heedlessly exposing itself to the threat of aerial bombardment. The city was in turn overshadowed by the wickedly pointed mountains. Kiphoris felt unusually nervous being near them. He knew, instinctively, that the mountains were a treacherous place. No better than a Hive nest.
Half of their ether canisters had been consumed. In a few more local days Kiphoris would be forced to call a retreat back to his hidden Skiffs. He was honour-bound to uphold his duties as a Scar, but the ancestral roots of his old banner demanded he learn all he could on this strange-yet-familiar people. He needed to understand, though even he didn't know why his curiosity burned so brightly. A memory, perhaps? Or a desire for days past and wars unfought?
"Kiphoris-Captain?" Alkris asked, his voice hushed. They were close enough that there was a danger of being discovered. Despite that, Kiphoris felt at ease. He couldn't make sense of much of what they had learned, yet he knew enough already to avoid further mistakes. He hated mistakes. Mistakes could cost him his life and the lives of his crew. The screeching machines had taught him that.
"Yes, Alkris?" He rumbled.
"With all respect-owed, why are we here? We are learning so very little."
"Not I." Kiphoris turned about to face the Marauder. "It may not be much overall, but I am learning enough. I am learning that which may benefit our banner. I am learning through answers withheld."
"Captain?"
"Can you smell that, Alkris? All those scents, they are strange to me but I know them. I know them. When we finish, I will send a report to Tarrhis so that our Baron may make his decisions after he has seen the entire picture. We cannot blunder about, yes? We must be cautious and mindful of our actions. Our future will depend on it." He looked up. "This world is a piece that does not fit into the puzzle. We have become a part of that, willingly or not. I will do the best I can so that we might yet survive this place."
000
Eragon was alone in the room when he awoke. A note was pinned to the wall, the letters scrawled with charcoal, and it read:
Eragon,
I will be gone until late tonight. Coins for food are under the mattress. Explore the city, enjoy yourself, but stay unnoticed!
Avoid the palace. Don't go anywhere without your bow. Keep it strung.
Brom.
The Rider retrieved the money under the bed, slipped his bow across his back, and thought, I wish I didn't have to go armed all the time.
He found Tellesa in the room below enjoying a basic breakfast. She mumbled a greeting and went back to reading her book. Eragon sat across from her and inspected the title. "Legends from across the Seas? Is it... good?"
"I'm enjoying it, but some of these tales are too far fetched for my liking," she shrugged and set it down. "Brom won't be back until later."
"Yes, he left me a note." Eragon looked around. "I don't like this city."
"I think he was lying when he said it would get better." Tellesa mused with good humour. "It most certainly has not. Still, we haven't seen all of it. Maybe there's a hidden gem somewhere nearby."
They left the Golden Globe soon after and ambled through the streets, stopping to observe whatever they found interesting. There were many intriguing stores, but none quite as exciting as Angela's herb shop in Teirm. At times he glared at the dark, claustrophobic houses and wished that he were free of the city. When they grew hungry, they bought a wedge of cheese and a loaf of bread and ate them, sitting on a curb. They watched as a contingent of soldiers hurried to the walls, not even sparing them a glance.
"Lord Tábor is raising the security. The disappearance of his men has rattled him," Tellesa explained. She appeared completely at ease, despite the proximity of the soldiers, though Eragon noted that her eyes darted around constantly. Relaxed, but wary.
Later, in a far corner of Dras-Leona, he heard an auctioneer rattling off a list of prices. Curious, they headed towards the voice and arrived at a wide opening between two buildings. Ten men stood on a waist-high platform. Arrayed before them was a richly dressed crowd that was both colourful and boisterous. He heard Tellesa curse darkly. Eragon frowned. Where are the goods for sale? He wondered.
The auctioneer finished his list and motioned for a young man behind the platform to join him. The man awkwardly climbed up, chains dragging at his hands and feet. "And here we have our first item," the auctioneer proclaimed. "A healthy male from the Hadarac Desert, captured just last month, and in excellent condition. Look at those arms and legs; he's as strong as a bull! He'd be perfect as a shield-bearer, or, if you don't trust him for that, hard labor. But let me tell you, lords and ladies, that would be a waste. He's as bright as a nail, if you can get him to talk a civilized tongue!"
Slaves. They were selling slaves. People.
The crowd laughed, and Eragon ground his teeth with fury. His lips started to form a word that would free the slave, and his arm, newly liberated from the splint, rose. The mark on his palm shimmered. He was about to manifest the magic when Tellesa forcibly grabbed the limb and pushed it down.
"No!" She hissed. "He'd never get away, and you'd expose us!"
Eragon caught on at the last second and, with great reluctance, let go of the spell he had prepared and quietly swore. Think! This is how you got into trouble with the Urgals!
He watched helplessly as the slave was sold to a tall, hawk-nosed man. The next slave was a tiny girl, no more than six years old, wrenched from the arms of her crying mother. As the auctioneer started the bidding, Eragon forced himself to walk away, rigid with outrage and fury.
It was several blocks before the weeping was inaudible. I'd like to see a thief try to cut my purse right now, he thought grimly. Frustrated, he punched a nearby wall, bruising his knuckles.
"Another reason to bring it all crashing down," Tellesa quietly muttered. Her hands shook by her side.
That's the sort of thing I could stop by fighting the empire, he realized. With Saphira by my side I could free those slaves. I've been graced with special powers; it would be selfish of me not to use them for the benefit of others. If I don't, I might as well not be a Rider at all.
It was a while before he took stock of his bearings and was surprised to find they had walked all the way to the cathedral. Its twisted spires were covered with statues and scrollwork. Snarling gargoyles crouched along the eaves. Fantastic beasts writhed on the side, and heroes and kings marched along their bottom edges, frozen in cold marble. Ribbed arches and tall stained-glass windows lined the cathedral's sides, along with columns of differing sizes. A lonely turret helmed the building like a mast.
Recessed in the shadow at the cathedral's front was an iron-bound door inlaid with a row of silver script that Eragon recognized as the ancient language. As best as he could tell, it read: May thee who enter here understand thine impermanence and forget thine attachments to that which is beloved.
The entire building sent a shiver down Eragon's spine. There was something menacing about it, as if it were a grat predator crouched in the city, waiting for its next victim.
"This place is the grim," he heard Tellesa whisper.
A broad row of steps led to the cathedral's entrance. Eragon solemnly ascended them and stopped before the door. "I wonder if we can go in..."
"I don't want to lose a hand."
"For entering their church? Surely not."
Tellesa sighed, joined him, and pushed the door open. It swung open smoothly, gliding on oiled hinges. They stepped inside.
The silence of a forgotten tomb filled the empty cathedral. The air was chill and dry. Bare walls extended to a vaulted ceiling that was so high Eragon felt no taller than an ant. The stained-glass windows depicted scenes of anger, hate and remorse, while spectral beams of light washed over the rows of granite pews in alternating hues.
Between the windows stood statues with rigid, pale eyes. Eragon returned their stern gazes, then slowly trod up the centre row, afraid to break the quiet. His leather boots padded noiselessly on the polished stone.
The altar was a great slab of stone devoid of adornment. A solitary finger of light fell upon it, illuminating motes of golden dust floating in the air. Behind the altar, the pipes of a wind organ pierced the ceiling and opened themselves to the elements. The instrument would play its music only when a gale rocked Dras-Leona.
Out of respect, Eragon knelt before the altar and bowed his head. He did not pray but paid homage to the cathedral itself. The sorrows of the lives it had witnessed, as well as the unpleasantness of the elaborate pageantry that played out between its walls, emanated from the stones. In that chilling touch, though, came a glimpse of eternity and perhaps the powers that lay there.
Finally, Eragon inclined his head and rose. Calm and grave, he whispered to himself in the ancient language. Only the sudden gasp from Tellesa broke his reverie. He turned and froze. His heart jumped, hammering like a drum.
The Ra'zac stood at the cathedral's entrance, watching him. Their swords were drawn, keen edges bloody in the crimson light. A sibilant hiss came from the smaller. Neither of them moved.
Rage welled up in Eragon. He had chased the Ra'zac for so many weeks that the pain of their murderous deed had dulled within him. But his vengeance was at hand. His wrath exploded like a volcano, fueled even more by his pent-up fury at the slaves' plight. A roar broke his lips, echoing like a thunderstorm as he snatched his bow from his back. Deftly, he fitted an arrow to the string and let loose. Two more followed an instant later.
The Ra'zac leapt away from the arrows with inhuman speed. They hissed as they ran up the aisles between the pews, cloaks flapping like raven wings. Eragon reached for another arrow, but caution stayed his hand. They knew where to find us! Brom must be in danger! His eyes switched to Tellesa. She held a dagger and nothing more. We can't possibly-
Then, to his horror, a line of soldiers filed into the cathedral, and he glimpsed a field of uniforms jostling outside the doorway.
Eragon gazed hungrily at the charging Ra'zac, then swept around, searching for means of escape. A vestibule to the left of the altar caught his attention. He bounded through the archway and dashed down a corridor that led to a priory with a belfry, looking behind to ensure Tellesa was with him. She had wasted no time in racing after him. The patter of the Ra'zac's feet behind them made him quicken his pace until the hall abruptly ended with a closed door.
He pounded against it, trying to break it open, but he did little more than make it budge. Then Tellesa slammed into it with her shoulder, causing it to crash open. They jumped into the narrow corridor and continued running.
They sped through several chambers, startling a group of priests; Tellesa grabbed one who had been about to shout at them and tossed him back into the way of their pursuers. Curses and alarmed cries followed them. The priory bell tolled an alarm. They dodged through a kitchen, passed a pair of monks, then slipped through a side door into a garden surrounded by high brick walls. He began to skid to a stop, but Tellesa kept going and leapt, catching the top of the wall with her fingers and hauling herself over it. In a split-second decision Eragon followed her lead. Desperate, he rushed at the walls, arms pumping. Magic could not help him here - if he used it to break through the wall, he would be too tired to run.
He jumped and barely managed to clear his fingers over the edge. He hung there for a split second, hearing the Ra'zac close by, lifted himself up and over. His shoulders shrieked with pain as he landed with a stumble on the other side, but he managed to recover just as the Ra'zac leapt over the wall. Tellesa was there beside him and tugged him onwards. Galvanized, Eragon put on another burst of speed.
They ran for over a mile before he had to stop and catch his breath, his companion not faring much better. Unsure if they lost the Ra'zac, they delved into a crowded marketplace and dove under a parked wagon.
"How..." He began, but Tellesa quickly cut him off.
"No time for questions!" She snapped. "We need to find Brom!"
Eragon reached out with his mind to Saphira and said, "The Ra'zac found me. We're all in danger! Check if Brom's alright. If he is, warn him and have him meet us at the inn. And be ready to fly here as fast as you can. We may need your help to escape."
She was silent, then said curtly, "He'll meet you at the inn. Is Tellesa with you?"
"She is."
"Don't stop moving."
"Brom will meet us at the inn," Eragon whispered. Tellesa gave a brief nod. They rolled out from under the wagon and hurried back to the Golden Globe, looking over their shoulders constantly. They raced into their rooms and packed their belongings with as much haste as they could muster, saddled the horses and then led them to the street.
Brom arrived not long after, staff in hand, scowling dangerously. He swung onto Snowfire's saddle and asked, "What happened?"
"We were in the cathedral when the Ra'zac just appeared behind us," Eragon answered, climbing onto Cadoc. Tellesa likewise mounted her nameless steed. "I ran back as fast as possible, but they could be here at any moment. Saphira will join us once we're out of Dras-Leona."
"We have to get outside the city walls before they close the gates, if they haven't already," Brom said. "If they're shut, it'll be nigh impossible for us to leave. Whatever you do, don't get separated from me."
Eragon stiffened as ranks of soldiers marched down one end of the street. Brom cursed, lashed Snowfire with his reigns, and galloped away. Tellesa and Eragon followed close behind. They nearly crashed during the wild, hazardous ride, plunging through masses of people that clogged the streets as they neared the city wall. When the gates finally came into view, Eragon pulled on Cadoc's reins with dismay. The gates were already half-closed, and a double line of pikemen blocked their way.
"They'll cut us to pieces!" He exclaimed.
"We have to try and make it," Brom said, his voice hard. "I'll deal with the men, but you have to keep the gates open for us."
Eragon nodded, gritted his teeth, and dug his heels into Cadoc. They plowed toward the line of unwavering soldiers, who lowered their pikes towards the horses' chests and braced the weapons against the ground. Though the horses snorted with fear, their riders held them in place. Eragon heard the soldiers shout but kept his attention on the gates inching shut.
As they neared the sharp pikes, Brom raised his hand and spoke. The words struck with precision; the soldiers fell to each side as if their legs had been cut out from under them. The gap between gates shrank by the second. Hoping that the effort would not prove too much for him, Eragon drew on his power and shouted, "Du grind huildr!"
A deep grating sound emanated from the gates as they trembled, then ground to a stop. The crowd and guards fell silent, staring with amazement. With a clatter of the horses' hooves, Brom and Eragon shot out from behind Dras-Leona's wall. The instant they were free, Eragon released the gates. They shuddered, then boomed shut.
He swayed with the expected fatigue but managed to keep riding. Brom watched him with concern. Their flight continued through the outskirts of the city as alarm trumpets sounded on the city wall. Saphira waited for them by the edge of Dras-Leona, hidden behind some trees. Her eyes burned; her tail whipped back and forth.
"Go, ride her," Brom ordered of him. "And this time stay in the air, no matter what happens to us. We'll head south. Fly nearby; it doesn't matter if Saphira's seen."
Eragon quickly mounted Saphira. As the ground dwindled away beneath him, he watched Brom and Tellesa gallop along the road.
"Are you alright?" Saphira asked.
"Yes," Eragon replied. "But only because we were very lucky."
A puff of smoke blew from her nostrils. "All the time we spent searching for the Ra'zac was useless."
"I know," he said, letting his head rest against her scales. "If the Ra'zac had been the only enemies back there, I would have stayed and fought, but with all the soldiers on their side, it was hardly a fair match!"
"You understand that there will be talk of us now? This was hardly an unobtrusive escape. Evading the empire will be harder than ever." There was an edge to her voice that he was unaccustomed to.
"I know."
They flew low and fast over the road. Leona Lake receded behind them; the land became dry and rocky and filled with tough, sharp bushes and many spindly trees. Clouds darkened the sky. Lightning flashed in the distance. As the wind began to howl, Saphira glided steeply down to Brom and Tellesa. The horseriders halted their pace and the elder asked, "What's wrong?"
"The wind's too strong."
"It's not that bad," Brom objected.
"It is up there," Eragon said, pointing at the sky.
Brom swore and handed him Cadoc's reins. They trotted away with Saphira following on foot, though on the ground she had difficulty keeping up with the horses.
The gale grew stronger, flinging dirt and leaves through the air and forcing them to inch closer and closer to the edge of the road to use the trees as cover. Soon, darkness forced them to stop. With only the stars to guide them, they left the road and made camp behind two boulders. It was too dangerous to light a fire, so they ate cold food while Saphira sheltered them from the wind.
After the sparse dinner, Eragon asked bluntly, "How did they find us?"
Brom started to light his pipe, but thought better of it and put it away. "One of the palace servants warned me there were spies among them. Somehow word of me and my questions must have reached Tábor... and through him, the Ra'zac."
"We can't go back to Dras-Leona, can we?" Tellesa said. It was more of a statement than a question.
Brom shook his head. "Not for a few years."
Eragon held his head between his hands. "Then should we draw the Ra'zac out? If we let Saphira be seen, they'll come running to wherever she is."
"And when they do, there will be fifty soldiers with them," Brom said. "At any rate, this isn't the time to discuss it. Right now we have to concentrate on staying alive. Tonight will be the most dangerous because the Ra'zac will be hunting us in the dark, when they are strongest. We'll have to trade watches until morning."
"Right," Eragon said, standing. He hesitated and squinted. His eyes had caught a flicker of movement, a small patch of colour that stood out from the surrounding nightscape. He stepped toward the edge of their camp, trying to see it better.
"What is it?" Brom asked as he unrolled his blankets.
Eragon stared into the darkness, then turned back. "I don't know. I thought I saw something. It must have been a bird."
Pain erupted in the back of his head, and Saphira roared. Then Eragon toppled to the ground, unconscious.
000
Alkris lurked unseen in the darkness beyond the torchlight, his entire form invisible to sight. Even the light of his eyes had been dimmed by the shaded glass of his helmet. He clutched his shock rifle close to his body, a lower arm always near his daggers, but nothing so much as bothered to look in his direction. The humans - as the Captain had named them - were oblivious. They were careless in their arrogance.
His mate, Paltis, brushed by him and tapped his shoulder with a claw. They snuck away, unnoticed by even the beasts of the forests. Paltis was able to scamper up a tree and snatch a pigeon. The animal, now suddenly aware of the two, tried to tear out of her grasp and fly away, but she swiftly snapped its neck. The pair shared the bloody meat as they hiked back to the rest of the scouting party.
Upon their return, they immediately noticed something was off. Kiphoris was pacing about with his helmet removed, sniffing the air and tasting it with a thin forked tongue that darted out briefly from his maw full of fangs. His plumage of hair stood on end, a flawless deep blue.
Alkris shook the bloody feathers from his claws and reattached his helmet. "The humans are panicked, Kiphoris-Captain."
Kiphoris twirled around and huffed. "Why?" He asked in that cold, calculated tone of his.
"I do not know. They are searching for something. There is great confusion in their ranks."
"Did you reveal yourselves?" The Captain reared up.
"No!" Paltis defended. "We followed your orders and remained undetected. The humans worry over only themselves!"
That did nothing to soothe the Captain. He swore. "Psekisk!"
He was upset. Alkris found himself at a loss for words. This agitated state was unnerving for all who bore witness. It did not suite their otherwise calmly collected noble.
Kiphoris perked up and breathed in the foreign air. There were too many strange scents for the Marauder to make sense of, but the Captain seemed to filter through it without any problem. "I smell amethysts. I smell the stars and silver and wine. I smell scorched flesh and the stench of scavengers circling before a kill." The large Eliksni lurched about, swiveling his head to and fro. He pointed an arm in a random direction. "It comes from there. The winds carry it on swift wings."
"Captain?" Viltrus asked, his own worry evident.
"Follow," Kiphoris barked. He put aside his weapons and bounded away on all six limbs. The Marauders dutifully scrambled after him.
000
Tellesa glared at the cowled visages of the Ra'zac as they tied down Saphira's wings with black chains. The dragon's legs had already been shackled to prevent her from clawing them. Saphira snarled and roared, but she didn't dare attack. Not when they held a knife to her Rider's throat.
The rebel pulled on her own binds, but the knot was too secure to undo. The rope bit painfully into the skin of her wrists. She didn't stop trying, attempting to find some way to fight back. Her mind betrayed her, though, and kept reminding her that even if she freed herself, what then? They only had to threaten Eragon's life once more. Odds were they wouldn't even need to do that. What chance do I have even if I manage free myself?
She glanced at the bags. The Ra'zac had briefly rummaged through the packs and tossed aside the Tigerspite after a moment's inspection. They didn't know what it was. Maybe, if she slipped free and reached it...
One of the dark creatures laughed chillingly. "The drug is working, yessss? I think you will not be bothering us again."
She turned her head. One of the monsters stood over the Rider. To her relief, Eragon was moving. She had worried that the blow was a grievous one. Head injuries could be very, very dangerous.
There was a nearby rattle as the second Ra'zac fitted a muzzle over Saphira's head.
"She was most cooperative once we threatened to kill you," the first creature hissed. It crouched by Eragon and reached into his own bag, throwing out whatever didn't catch its interest until it found the sheathed form of the Rider's sword. "What a pretty thing for one so... insignificant. Maybe I will keep it." It leaned closer to the boy. "Or maybe, if you behave, our master will let you polish it."
Then it turned the weapon over and saw something to cause it alarm, eliciting a screech. It's companion rushed over. They passed the sword between them and conversed in their own tongue, clicking and hissing. At last they faced Eragon. "You will serve our master well, yesss."
"If I do, I will kill you," Eragon shot back, his words slurred as if drunk.
The Ra'zac chuckled. By the gods, she hated that sound. "Oh no, we are too valuable. But you... you are disposable."
Saphira snarled. Smoke trailed from her nostrils. The Ra'zac didn't care enough to grant her any further attention.
Their focus was diverted when Brom groaned and began to wake up. The second Ra'zac grabbed the elder's shirt and thrusted him effortlessly into the air. "It'ssss wearing off."
"Give him more."
"Let'sss just kill him. He has caused us much grief."
The first trailed its clawed finger down the red sword. "A good plan. But remember, the king's instructions were to keep them alive."
"We can say-"
A distant roar pierced the night. Even Saphira, who struggled against the cruel contraptions holding her down, fell silent as the bellow echoed around them. Tellesa paled. It didn't sound near, but... it sounded large. It carried on for a brief few moments, full of power and fury. At first she thought it a bear, but even that didn't seem right.
The first Ra'zac snarled and drew his own sword, his eyes flitting around. "Beasts."
"Kill him now!" The second urged. "We can sssay he was killed when we captured them!"
"And what of thisss one?" The first, taller of the two, gestured to Eragon. "If he talksss?"
The second laughed. "He would not dare."
There was a long silence. The first glancing back to the forest beyond the camp, then grunted. "Agreed. We kill the other human next."
"And feast?"
"Yesssss."
They dragged Brom to the centre of the camp and shoved him to his knees. Brom sagged to one side. Tellesa wrenched at the ropes holding her down, but they were too strong to break.
A second roar, lighter than the first but much closer, came from their left. Another sound followed; like a human cry cut off before it could truly begin.
The Ra'zac startled and forgot about Brom entirely. They turned to face the origin of the sound with weapons drawn, knees bent into a readied stance. It was their mistake. Despite their sharp senses, Tellesa saw the figure before they did. It might very well have been her muffled gasp that alerted them.
It clambered over the boulders and dropped heavily. The darkness of the night obscured much of its image, and what little was revealed by the dying campfire terrified her. It was indeed large. Larger than any man, tall enough to even rival Saphira when standing. It grasped, in two arms held aloft, twin blades that crackled with restrained lightning. Its head was framed by the metal wings of its helmet. Four bright blue lights glared out of where its eyes should have been; Tellesa realized moments later that they were its eyes. And then, with a revelation that shook her, the flicker of firelight revealed another pair of arms reaching down to its hips to grasp the holstered forms of firearms. They were just like the personal weapons of Ikharos, but larger and forged of bronze and grey steel.
It bellowed in a voice that bespoke of intelligent language, though the words were hard to hear through the clicking, chirping, and growling. "Ka e di-ba hoor ma! Skas Bar-Has! RAAARK!"
A grand cloak of rusted red billowed behind it. It took one step forward, challenging the monsters. The Ra'zac chittered between themselves and hissed at the newcomer. They were nervous. Fearful, even.
Another roar answered that of the one before them, coming from beyond the boulders. More of its kin were converging on their position. Tellesa tried to make herself small and unnoticeable, though she knew it fruitless. She only hoped the rage of the new creatures expended itself on the servants of the king. The Ra'zac made no move to stop Brom as he blearily staggered upright.
"Get down!" Eragon cried out.
Brom wavered, then tottered towards the Rider.
With a sudden wild cry, the smaller Ra'zac fled towards the direction of the road, kicking Eragon viciously in the side as it passed. Its companion hesitated, looking between the Rider and the imposing form of the newcomer, then raced after the other. Before it left camp, however, it twirled around and hurled a knife towards Eragon.
Brom threw himself in front of Eragon, his mouth open in a soundless snarl. The dagger struck him with a soft thump, and he landed heavily on his shoulder. His head lolled limply.
"No!" Eragon screamed weakly, though he was doubled over in pain. He too fell onto his side, breathing raggedly, and closed his eyes.
Saphira whined and bucked against the metal restricting her movements. Tellesa struggled against the rope with a renewed determination, but that was quickly cut short when a gruff bark echoed across the campsite. Her eyes darted back to the creature that had scared off the Ra'zac.
Another climbed over the boulder and fell beside it on lithe limbs. It was smaller than the first, its helmet without the proud wings and covered by a red hood that connected to its own ragged cloak. It held a one-handed firearm identical to the ones holstered at the larger one's waist, as well as two knives. It stared at Saphira. The first, however, ignored the dragon. It strode forward and, after sheathing its blades, picked up the fallen Tigerspite and brought the rifle close to its eyes. It traced its fingers over the curves of the sleek metal, the soft weather-resistant blue cloth, and ejected the magazine without any issue. The rumble that had once emanated from it quickly fell away.
A third joined them and barked. "Kiphoris-Veskirisk? Hulunkles?"
"Nama," the first growled. "Slo at dres bas." It lifted its head and turned about, as if noticing they were being watched. Tellesa shivered as the four glowing orbs settled on her. "Ban-Fre."
The other two twirled around and glared at her. The big creature walked forward, unblinking. Tellesa fell back and tried to scramble away, but it reached her within a moment and grasped the bonds between her wrists in one hand and her shoulder with another. Its grip was powerful; she was under no illusion that it could kill her with its bare hands. The creature possessed a terrible strength, a rippling animalistic power driven with the purpose of a sapient being.
A third hand reached up and, delicately, tore away the cloth over her mout with a single swipe of a claw. It didn't let go of her, however. It crouched down beside her, still towering over her, and reached up with its fourth hand to press something on the side of its helmet. Then it said, "Speak."
Tellesa flinched. It was an inhuman voice, just like the Ra'zac's. But where the servants of the king had high-pitched cackles, this creature spoke with a deep guttural grumble framed by accompanying inhuman noises that set her on edge.
"Speak," it said again, more forceful this time. Its fellows decided to ignore the exchange, instead inspecting the form of Saphira.
"What are you?" Tellesa blurted.
The creature tilted its head. This close, she could see the hard grey shell around its eyes and the taut leathery skin covering where the natural armour did not. "Eliksni." It motioned to the other two. "Kalakhselen."
"I don't understand."
The creature grunted. "Gah, unseeing things don't see the stars." It lifted up the Tigerspite. "Where did you find this?"
"It was a gift..." Tellesa answered. Her heart raced.
"Gift from whom?"
"Why?"
"Did the gifters glow?" The creature asked. "Did they dance with stars? Did they whisper into night?"
"I don't know-"
"Was it the twin-souls?"
"What does that mean?"
"I think not." The creature's sigh sounded more like a growl. "Not twin-souls. Not Awoken. Who, then? Jovian? Sha'ir?"
"What does-"
"Light-Thief."
"Light..." Tellesa's mind raced. "He talked about Light, but I don't think he was a-"
The creature before her shuddered. "Sha'ir psekiskar!"
"Please," she cried and looked to where Brom and Eragon had fallen. "They need help!"
The creature stood and looked down at her with an indecipherable gaze, then it snapped a command to the other two. They immediately complied and left Saphira be. One lifted Eragon and set him down apart from Brom. The two then addressed the injured elder. They carefully rolled him over and closely inspected the knife in his side.
The larger beast roughly tugged Tellesa up to her feet and sliced apart her bindings. The rope fell away and the biting pain of it blissfully shrank to a dull throb. She would have ran to see to her companions if the creature wasn't still holding her shoulder. It lifted an arm in the dragon's direction. "What is that?"
"Dragon, she's a friend, please don't-" Tellesa rambled. A swift bark cut her off.
"Wish-beast?" The creature demanded, now eyeing Saphira with interest.
"What? No, a dragon. A friend!"
"A friend..." It tilted its head. "It can think?"
"Yes."
"Speak?"
"... Not like you or I, but she understands us."
"Tell it if it strikes, I will have skull-trophy from it."
The creature let go of her. Tellesa raced to the dragon's side. Saphira lay still, her eyes constantly watching over Eragon's prone form. The rebel pulled on a stake nailed to the ground and wrenched it out, causing a couple of chains to go slack. "Saphira... don't..."
"They smell of war."
Yet more roars rebounded into the camp. Another trio of the creatures - still smaller than the first yet standing taller than any human - marched in with a prisoner between them. A human prisoner. The youth was conscious and wide-eyed, his serious face and fierce gray eyes were framed by the locks of his long, dark brown hair. He didn't say a word as the creatures escorting him pushed him down to his knees once they reached the camp. The newcomers began to converse in their own language with those already present. Tellesa tried to put it out of her mind as she unshackled Saphira.
At last the chains and manacles fell away, and Saphira lifted herself to her feet. The creatures - the Eliksni - all regarded her with what she judged to be some measure of caution. It was hard to tell, with their unfamiliar body language and their strange armour. When the dragon gingerly outstretched her cramped wings, they readied weapons. Saphira immediately dragged her wings back and folded them against her body, lowering her head. It told Tellesa that she too feared the new creatures.
It didn't stop Saphira from walking over to Eragon's side, however. She crouched over the Rider and spread her wings protectively on either side, shielding the Rider.
One of those tending to Brom said something. Their leader turned to Tellesa. "See to him. We will move soon. Bone-pickers will come back if not."
She understood, more or less. Tellesa didn't miss that letting her and her companions go wasn't an option. She had no choice but to obey and meet their demands.
000
For a long while, Eragon was aware only of the burning in his side. Each breath was painful. His sense of time was skewed; it was hard to tell if weeks had gone by, or only a few minutes. When consciousness finally came to him, he opened his eyes and peered curiously at a campfire several feet away. His hands were still tied together, but the drug must have worn off because he could think clearly again. "Saphira, are you injured?"
"No, but you and Brom are." She loomed over him, wings over them as if to ward away a storm.
"Where's Tellesa and..." Eragon struggled to his knees and saw a young man sitting on the far side of the fire. There was no sign of Tellesa, but he was relieved to see Brom still breathing - albeit weakly.
The stranger, dressed in tattered clothes, exuded a calm, assured air. In his hands was a bow, at his side a long hand-and-a-half sword. A white horn boundt with silver fittings laid on his lap, and the hilt of a dagger protruded from his boot. He appeared to be a few years older than Eragon and perhaps an inch or so taller. Behind him a gray war-horse was picketed by Cadoc, Snowfire, and Tellesa's steed. The stranger watched Saphira warily.
"Who are you?" Eragon asked, taking a shallow breath.
The man's hands tightened on his bow. "Murtagh." His voice was low and controlled, but curiously emotional.
There was a rustling from the side, and an inhuman figure entered Eragon's sight. His breath was stolen from his lungs as he froze with shock, his heart grasped by cold fear. The creature - taller than any man, possessing four arms and four glowing blue eyes - spared him a brief glance.
"Hus ka de?" It asked in its gruff voice, faint clicks echoing around the words. "Shas hua."
It held in one of its hands a brace of rabbits. Murtagh rose and warily took it from the creature. It made a clacking sound, then walked away.
Eragon swallowed past the lump in his throat. "What... what was that?"
"They call themselves Eliksni," Murtagh answered, his own voice hushed. The older boy looked over his shoulder to check if the creature was truly gone.
"Where's Tellesa?"
"The woman, right? They're talking to her. One of them - their leader - speaks the common tongue."
"She's fine," Saphira told him. It only partially reassured him. "I do not think they are our foes."
"But are they our friends?" Eragon asked. Saphira couldn't give him an answer. "Why are you here?"
"They caught me near your camp," Murtagh told him, and settled the Rider with an inquisitive look. "You aren't the only enemies the Ra'zac have. I was tracking them."
"You know who they are?"
"Yes."
Eragon concentrated on the ropes that bound his wrists and reached for his magic. He hesitated, aware of Murtagh's eyes on him, then decided it didn't matter. "Jierda!" He grunted. The ropes snapped off his wrists. He rubbed his hands to get the blood flowing.
Murtagh sucked in his breath. Eragon braced himself and tried to stand, but his ribs seared with agony. He fell back, gasping between clenched teeth. Murtagh tried to come to his aid, but Saphira stopped him with a growl. "I would have helped you earlier, but your dragon wouldn't let me near you."
"Her name's Saphira," Eragon said tightly.
"So I've heard."
"Let him by!" Eragon told Saphira. "I can't do this alone. Better him than one of those... Eliksni."
The dragon growled again, but folded her wings and backed away. Murtag eyed her flatly as he stepped forward. He grasped Eragon's arm, gently pulling him to his feet. Eragon yelped and would have fallen without support. They went to the fire, where Brom laid on his back.
"How is he?" Eragon asked.
"Not well," Murtagh said, lowering him to the ground. "The knife went between his ribs. You can look at him in a minute, but first we'd better see how much damage the Ra'zac did to you." He helped Eragon remove his shirt, then whistled. "Ouch!"
"Ouch," Eragon agreed weakly. A blotchy bruise extended down his left side. The red, swollen skin was broken in several places. Murtagh put a hand on the bruise and pressed lightly. Eragon yelled, and Saphira snapped her jaws.
Murtagh glanced at the dragon as he grabbed a blanket. "I think you have some broken ribs. It's hard to tell, but at least two. You're lucky you're not coughing up blood." He tore the blanket into strips and bound Eragon's chest.
Eragon slipped the shirt back on. "Yes... I'm lucky." He took a shallow breath, sidled over to Brom, and saw that someone had cut open the side of his robe to bandage the wound. With trembling fingers, he undid the bandage.
"I wouldn't do that," Murtagh warned. "He'll bleed to death without it."
Eragon ignored him and pulled the cloth away from Brom's side. The wound was short and thin, belying its depth. Blood streamed out of it. As he had learned when Garrow was injured, a wound inflicted by Ra'zac was slow to heal.
He peeled off his gloves while furiously searching his mind for the healing words Brom had taught him. "Help me, Saphira. I am too weak to do this alone."
Saphira sat next to him, fixing her eyes on Brom. "I am here, Eragon."
As her mind joined his, new strength infused his body. Eragon drew on their combined power and focused it on the words. "Waíse heill!" He said. His palm glowed, and Brom's skin flowed back together as if it had never been broken. Murtagh watched the entire process with thinly veiled awe.
It was over quickly. As the light vanished, Eragon sat, feeling sick. "We've never done that before," he told Saphira.
The dragon nodded slightly. "Together we can cast spells that are beyond either of us."
Murtagh examined Brom's side and asked, "Is he completely healed?"
"I can only mend what is on the surface. I don't know enough to fix whatever's damaged inside. It's up to him now. I've done all I can." Eragon closed his eyes for a moment, utterly spent. "My... my head seems to be floating in clouds."
"You probably need to eat," Murtagh said. "I'll prepare the rabbits."
While Murtagh fixed the meal, Eragon wondered after the strange beings that had come to his rescue, and then to the reaction of the Ra'zac. The Eliksni were unlike anything he had ever seen. Enough to scare off the Ra'zac. Massive and alien.
Eragon's attention was soon attracted to the sight of Murtagh's bow, sword, and horn. Either he was a thief or accustomed to money - and lots of it. Why was he hunting the Ra'zac? What have they done to make him an enemy? I wonder if he works for the Varden.
Murtagh handed him a bowl of broth not long after. Eragon spooned it down and asked, "How long has it been since the Ra'zac fled?"
"A day and a half."
"We have to go before they return with reinforcements."
"We've traveled as much as we could already." Murtagh gestured to Brom. "You might be able to go one, but he can't. You don't get up and ride away after being stabbed between the ribs. Your friend had to beg the Eliksni to make a stop for Brom's sake."
"Why are they here?" Eragon asked.
"I don't know. I don't think they care about us, or Saphira, all that much. They want Tellesa. And she won't leave you." Murtagh shrugged. "Probably for the best we stay with them. If we try to leave, they might cut our throats to cover their tracks."
Eragon turned to Saphira. "We need to move. If we make a litter, can you carry Brom with your claws like you did Garrow?"
"Yes, but landing will be awkward."
"As long as it can be done." Eragon then addressed Murtagh. "Saphira can carry Brom, but we need a litter. Can you make one? I don't have the strength."
"Wait here." Murtagh left the camp. Eragon hobbled to his bags and picked up his bow from where it had been quickly packed away. He strung it, found his quiver, then retrieved Zar'roc. Last, he got a blanket for the litter.
Murtagh returned with two saplings. He laid them parallel on the ground, then lashed the blanket between the poles. He carefully dragged Brom onto the litter and, his work finished, fell back.
It was a few minutes later that Tellesa returned beside two of the Eliksni, including the largest of the band. Eragon could hardly register the size of it. It stood as tall as a man and half again. Its body was well armoured, and for those places that weren't covered by strange metal plate was a sleek grey material unlike any cloth he had ever laid eyes on. The helmet was a work of exotic, foreign art, with high wings that somehow gave it the Eliksni the impression of an eared owl. If so, it was the largest and meanest owl Eragon had ever laid eyes on. The legs and arms were built with compact muscle, just as armoured as the rest of the body, and each hand had two fingers and a thumb, all them tipped with hooked claws.
It was a relief to see Tellesa safe. She flashed him a sad smile, then breathed in deeply, her eyes settling on Brom's unmoving form with worry. She tilted her head in the largest Eliksni's direction. "This is Kiphoris. He's the... Captain, right?"
Kiphoris dipped his head. His glowing eyes seemed to bore into Eragon's very soul.
"He's a Captain. The others are members of his crew. They're on their way back to rejoin the rest of the crew some distance south. He's promised us safety."
"In exchange for what?" Eragon asked nervously. He could feel Saphira's ire rising. She didn't trust, or like, the Eliksni.
Tellesa looked to Kiphoris. The Captain made a sound similar to Saphira's own growl and spoke in the common tongue. It was the voice of something else, something not human, but at the very least it was clear and comprehensible. "Nothing. Only answers and truths. I will decide mine-plan when I reach my crews. They are not far." He glanced in Brom's direction. "Can we walk?"
Eragon gulped. "Yes. Saphira can carry Brom. Thank you... for saving us."
Kiphoris once more inclined his head, then said something in his own language to his fellow. The other one, smaller and wearing a hood over its helmet, chuckled and brought a clawed hand against its chest. "Alkris," it said in a voice that bespoke of mirth, even through the barrier of language and customs.
The Rider hesitated, then pointed to himself. "Eragon."
"Eragon..." Alkris tried, awkwardly imitating the phrasing. It mastered it soon enough. "Eragon." It pointed to Tellesa. "Tellesa." It knew her name already. "Murtagh," it pointed to the other boy.
"Saphira," Eragon gestured to the dragon.
Alkris seemed almost giddy. His deep-throated laugh alleviated some of Eragon's fears. "Saphira."
"Alkris will guard you," Kiphoris told them. "Mine-scouts and I will move ahead and behind to catch scents of foes. If you need me, tell him 'Ne kra kelisk'."
"Ne kra kelisk..." Eragon's mouth wasn't suited for the words. He felt he had butchered the pronunciation. It set off Alkris's laughing once more.
"What did he want to know?" Murtagh asked, once Kiphoris had left to gather the other members of his band. Alkris remained, but that Eliksni was heedless to their words. He was disassembling and reassembling a weapon reminiscent of Tellesa's own Tigerspite.
"Lots," Tellesa shrugged. "I answered as best I could, but I didn't know what to say to most."
"What did you answer?" Eragon questioned. He leaned against Saphira's flank.
"He wanted to know about Ikharos."
"The wizard?"
"The wizard. Even then, there wasn't much I could say. Kiphoris wanted to know about his magic, his ship, his prowess in combat, and his location. I... couldn't say much there." She shuddered. "I hope I haven't made a mistake."
"What's wrong?"
"I don't think Kiphoris likes Ikharos. They might know each other, they might not, but... I don't know. This is just another damn mess..."
"Do you think he's telling the truth?" Eragon pressed. "About keeping us safe?"
"Yes. I didn't learn much, but I did gather that he is a... man? ... of his word. Eliksni hold honour in high regard." She looked up at Saphira. "He asked after you too. You remind him of something dangerous, but... you aren't it? I'm not sure."
"Not dangerous?" The dragon narrowed her eyes and puffed smoke. "Unwise."
Saphira grasped the saplings of the makeshift litter and laboriously took flight.
"I never thought I would see a sight like that," Murtagh said, an odd note in his voice.
As Saphira disappeared into the dark sky, Eragon limped to Cadoc and hoisted himself painfully into the saddle. "Thanks for helping us. You should leave now. Ride as far away from us as you can. You'll be in danger if the empire finds you with us, and I wouldn't see harm come to you on our account."
"A pretty speech," Murtagh said, kicking dirt and sand over the fire. "But have you anywhere to go beyond where the Eliksni take you? Is there a place nearby you can rest in safety?"
"No," Eragon admitted.
Murtagh's eyes glinted as he fingered the hilt of his sword. "In that case, I think I'll accompany you until you're out of danger. Who knows, it might be safer for me to stay near these people." He indicated Alkris. The Eliksni made a barking sound, which the rest of his kind answered some distance away. It reminded Eragon of a pack of wolves, working in tandem despite being out of sight of one another. "Besides, if I stay with you, I might get another shot at the Ra'zac sooner than if I were on my own. Interesting things are bound to happen around a Rider."
Eragon wavered, unsure if he should accept help from a complete stranger. Yet he was unpleasantly aware that he was too weak to force the issue either way. And he trusted Murtagh more than he did their unusual escorts. If Murtagh proves untrustworthy, Saphira can always chase him away. "Join us if you wish."
Murtagh nodded and mounted his gray warhorse. Tellesa, already upon her mare, led the way. Alkris broke into a run alongside them, using all six of his limbs to scramble across the landscape, keeping up the steeds with relative ease despite the weight of his armour and equipment. It further unnerved Eragon, but it was also a comfort. He doubted the Ra'zac or the soldiers under their lead would dare strike against them again.
Though he wanted to question Murtagh further, he kept silent, conserving his energy for riding. Near dawn Saphira said, "I must stop. My wings are tired and Brom needs attention. I discovered a good place to stay, about two miles ahead of where you are."
Eragon told Tellesa, and she in turn gave the message for Alkris to fetch the Captain. The Eliksni raced away with a startling burst of speed and returned with the larger creature. He too traveled on all limbs for speed, but as he neared he lifted up to lumber on his powerful legs. They told Kiphoris what Saphira said, and he bellowed loudly for his scouts to join them.
They found Saphira sitting at the base of a broad sandstone formation that curved out of the ground like a great hill. Its sides were pocked with caves of varying sizes. Similar domes were scattered throughout the landscape. Saphira looked pleased with herself. "I have found a cave that can't be seen from the ground. It's large enough for all of us, including the horses. And Kiphoris. Follow me." She turned and climbed up the sandstone, her sharp claws digging into the rock. The horses had difficulty, as their shod hooves could not grip the sandstone. Eragon and Murtagh had to pull and shove the animals for almost an hour before they managed to reach the cave. All progress had almost been lost when one of the Eliksni roared and startled the beasts. Kiphoris had been quick to scold the creature responsible.
The cavern was a good hundred feet long and more than twenty feet wide, yet it had a small opening that would protect them from bad weather and prying eyes. Darkness swallowed the far end, clinging to the walls like mats of soft black wool.
"Impressive," Murtagh said. "I'll gather wood for a fire."
Kiphoris spoke to one of his followers, then said to the humans, "Viltrus will go with you. Do not tarry."
Eragon hurried to Brom. Saphira had set him on a small rock ledge at the rear of the cave. Eragon clasped Brom's limp hand and anxiously watched his craggy face. Tellesa joined him mere seconds later.
"How is he?" She asked.
"Not well," Eragon croaked. The elder appeared paler than ever before. After a few minutes, he sighed and went to the fire Murtagh had built. They ate quietly, listening to the speech of the Eliksni, then tried to give Brom water, but the old man would not drink. Stymied, they spread out their bedrolls and slept while Saphira and Kiphoris kept watch.