THANK GOD FOR ELECTRONIC THESAURUSES! They are the miracle of modern technology.
-end of random comment-
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4/4/101
In sullen silence, the five of them managed to make camp and start a small fire, roasting the remains of a few unfortunate hares over it. Galbatorix sat in Shruikan's shadow, a strange smile on his face as he surveyed his prisoners.
Murtagh sat next to the fire, poking the flames disinterestedly with a stick. Sick guilt gnawed at his stomach as Tornac's death replayed itself in his mind again and again. Tornac's death had been painfully slow—it was a belly cut, just deep enough to be fatal. It had taken fifteen sickening minutes for him to die, and Murtagh could remember his agonized cries vividly.
His grip tightened about the stick. And to have the same fate visited upon his family…what kind of twisted justice was this? Tornac's sister, Eryn, with her impish laugh…Kylaia, the irritably kind grandmother…Rikal, Jerin, Hallai, Sevlin, even the new baby, not three months old! He had known every one of these people, and they had died for their association to him.
A light touch on his arm startled him out of his thoughts. He turned to look at Salem, a sigh escaping his lips. In a tired voice, he said, "What?"
She eyed him with a sharp, piercing stare. "Are you moping?"
Murtagh stared, taken aback. "Excuse me?"
She raised an eyebrow, and Murtagh felt immediately defensive. "Moping? Sixteen people are dead because of me, Salem. People that I knew. Friends. And now…" He shook his head hopelessly. "They're gone."
"I thought you were a warrior," she said, her voice softening. Her gaze was no longer accusing; it seemed curious. "At the gate, you were prepared to fight and kill, if need be. How can you justify killing, then, if you abhor these deaths?"
"When it comes down to survival," Murtagh said quietly. "When I must kill to defend myself, I will do it. I ask you, how does killing sixteen innocents amount to survival?"
"So you're the victim here?" she asked softly.
"I never said that," Murtagh said sharply.
She was silent, then shrugged. "No. You're not."
Her tone was bland. Murtagh looked at her sidelong, eyes narrowed. "Spill it," he said caustically. "You're going to do it anyway."
She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "I can't criticize," she said finally. "I'm no innocent, especially…well, especially after what I did to…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "But, I don't know."
She looked significantly at Galbatorix, then back to Murtagh. "Morzan, the emperor's right hand…whenever he killed, do you think he considered the dead? Everybody has a story, Murtagh. Everybody has an identity and somebody to mourn them. Morzan and the other twelve Forsworn…they got to a point where killing doesn't matter. Where killing's a duty, something to do."
Murtagh worked his jaw, feeling acutely uncomfortable at the mention of his father. "Yes…" he said softly, waiting for her to finish her thought.
She sighed, staring at Galbatorix at the other side of the fire. "Is heartlessness a part of holding power?" she asked quietly. "To become dominant, it seems you have to turn off the part that makes you alive…"
She fixed him with a steady gaze. "You're a Rider. One day, no matter how much you kick your heels and scream, you're going to have to wield power." She touched his hand, her mouth grim. "And to wield it, will you turn your emotions off, too? To forget how to mourn? To die, even though you're still breathing?"
Murtagh stared at her, then exhaled a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "You can't question ethics in that way, Salem. I kill because I must. Because to survive, another man's death is necessary. I…" he trailed off, suddenly uncertain. In a quieter voice, he said, "I would never kill for no reason."
"Where do you draw the line in terms of need?" she said. "The Brunsons died because they were seen as a threat. A very minor, vague threat, but still a threat. It depends on interpretation, Murtagh. Lives balance on a thin blade."
Murtagh stared into the fire. Something about Salem's words struck a deep chord in him, forcing him to reconsider beliefs that he had always lived by. "So," he said finally. "If a man is coming at you with a sword and going to chop your head off, do you sit by and let him?"
"No," she said softly. "I'm not saying that when it comes down to life and death you should never defend yourself. What I'm trying to say, I suppose, is that when you run this kingdom at Galbatorix's right-hand side, to err on the side of caution. To try to spare lives whenever possible, and to always remember each one as a living being rather than a number." Her eyes flicked to his face, dark and solemn. "Think about it."
She rose, stepping away to leave Murtagh with his own thoughts.
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4/5/101
The next morning came far too soon. Murtagh winced as the sun streaked over the lake, bouncing off to create a powerful annoyance. Galbatorix did not help; his expression was positively giddy as he shouted the wake-up call.
"Wake UP! Wake uh-hup!"
A few feet away, Salem groaned and mumbled something that Murtagh couldn't quite make out. She sat up slowly, blinking like an owl. "Sunrise?" she asked vaguely, looking around as if puzzled.
Murtagh nodded. "Not an early morning person?" he asked teasingly. She scowled at him and shook her head.
"Well, cheer up. It's a beautiful day," Murtagh said.
Salem made a mmrrbg sound and sighed. "Connac was the early riser in the family," she said, rubbing her eyes. "Every morning at the crack of dawn. That's probably why he became a soldier."
Murtagh smiled and helped her to her feet. She accepted his help gratefully, leaning against him with an apologetic laugh. Both of them felt their amusement fade as Galbatorix strode towards them, a huge grin on his face. "Well, it's about time, you two. We've got some more flying today before we land…well, wherever we're supposed to land. The dragons are fed and watered, and you got four moments and a bit to get ready!"
He strolled off, whistling. Murtagh and Salem exchanged incredulous looks, wondering at Galbatorix's chipper attitude. "What…" Salem began.
"That's just odd," Murtagh completed.
"What's going to happen today?" Salem asked, staring after Galbatorix, worry clear in her face.
Murtagh squeezed her hand reassuringly. "We'll face things one at a time," he said softly. "Come on, let's get ready."
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Flying. Again.
Salem sat on the edge of the saddle, watching worriedly as the dragons lifted off. They were heading towards the mountains, to whatever lay there…she poked Murtagh. He twisted slightly to face her, an inquiring expression on his face. Yes? he asked.
Flam, Salem said slowly. The Flam Lake. Do you recognize the name? Where are we?
He frowned, considering. Near mountains? He gestured towards the shadows ahead. The only mountains I know of are the Coastal Mountains and the Beors. It can't be the Beors; we haven't traveled over desert.
The Coastal Mountains? What's there?
He shrugged and turned to face the front. Plenty. What I don't understand is why we're going to all this trouble. If he wanted to kill you, there are plenty of chances back in Uru'baen. Torture is the same. So why are we out here?
Salem considered the prospect. Because there's something special that can't be found back in Uru'baen, she said slowly.
She could feel his confirmation. Salem settled back into the saddle, thoughts clicking through her head. The Ra'zac? she suggested.
That would be Dras-Leona, near Leona Lake, he said, shaking his head. Less than a day's journey on dragonback. He was silent for a moment. Salem was about to sink back into her own thoughts when he abruptly changed the subject. What you were saying yesterday—
Yes…? Salem said when he didn't complete his thought. What of it?
Murtagh hesitated, then said slowly, Would I?
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He didn't even know what he was asking, and now that that words were out there Murtagh desperately wished he could take them back. What was his question, anyway?
Salem took her time answering, and when she finally did answer, her words were as cryptic as his. Only if you forget.
He waited, but she said nothing else. He was about to turn his mind away when she added, But now, I don't think you will. Not anymore.
Murtagh's breath caught in his throat as an unfamiliar emotion swept through him. It took him a moment to get his feelings under control, to prevent Salem from detecting any of it. Finally, he could speak. I see.
He could feel her grin. 'I see'? We have just had one of the most cryptic conversations I can remember, and all you can say is 'I see.' Well, I see too. And I have no idea what I'm seeing.
It's hard to comprehend, he told her gravely. Can you identify it?
This time she laughed, the sound sending goosebumps rippling down his spine. Insanity. Lots of it.
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Salem grinned in unholy amusement, feeling Murtagh's wry confusion. And how is the view from there? he inquired, his voice dry.
I haven't crossed completely to the other side, she said, making her voice mockingly hurt. No need to insult me.
He laughed, but his voice grew serious again. What do you mean?
Salem paused, hesitant. What did he want from her? What were they talking about, anyway? Did he mean what she did?
She could feel him waiting patiently for an answer. Salem hesitated, considering her response carefully. You have a warrior's ethics, she said finally, her words stumbling and halting. They form a vital part of your being, and, well, that's important. But part of the warrior code, it's…it's honorable. I know they say there's no honor among thieves, right? But you're not a thief…
She trailed off, thoroughly confused as to where she was going with this. Her thoughts tumbled over each other, meandering and disorganized. It'll always be a part of you, I think. Even when you are called to play your role, you'll always remember. Evil…well, nobody can really classify evil, but I don't think it's within you.
Murtagh shifted in the saddle, turning to face her. His eyes, dark hazel, met hers squarely as he nodded. He took her hand, rubbing it gently. Thank you.
He reached up, tracing the lines of her face. To her utter shock, Salem found herself fighting for breath as his hand traveled down her cheek, her skin tingling wherever he touched. She was frozen, paralyzed by a combination of surprise and pleasure.
"Murtagh…"
The word was soft, almost lost within the winds whipping around them. Murtagh hesitated, his eyes searching hers.
Who moved first? Where do we put our noses? These thoughts flicked through her mind for a fraction of a second before they were lost in the warm fire that spread throughout her entire body. Then, all that mattered was the warmth of Murtagh before her and his lips on hers as they kissed.
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-interlude while author sniffs-
Waaah! You know, I really shouldn't have put that in there, but I couldn't resist. Knowing what evil fates I have in store for them, I feel they should have at least one moment together before god-knows-what happens to them. Besides, I'm a sucker for romance.
I didn't plan this. Seriously. My muses forced me at gunpoint to type it out; then they vanished for a vacation in Jamaica. No idea when they'll be back.
Honestly, though, I agonized over and over about this particular bit. I was going to post it yesterday, but decided not to because I wanted to edit it. Believe me, the Salem/Murtagh thing has been replaced by several vastly different scenarios at least three times. Finally, though, I've decided to keep it.
If you disagree with how this has turned out, I apologize deeply. –grovels- Please continue to read and review! Tell me your opinion of this particular section. If I get enough negative responses, I WILL replace it with something else, even though the damage has already been done.
-sigh- Back to the story.
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Murtagh pulled away, finally remembering to breathe. He felt strangely tingly, and his ears were buzzing. Salem? he managed finally.
Yes, she said, sounding lost. Did you start that?
He hesitated. I…I don't know.
Salem laughed, the sound shaky. Me neither. Did you want to?
Definitely not, he said forcefully. I thought you were the most aggravating, annoying, questioning girl—excuse me, woman—that I'd ever met.
She raised an eyebrow. Yes, well, I thought you were an emotionless rock with the morals and ethics of a gutter rat. I think you started it, because I certainly didn't.
Are you sure? he said lazily. You didn't pull away.
Because my insides melted, Salem objected. Not my fault.
Their words notwithstanding, the two of them had yet to pull their gazes away from each other, their hands intertwined. Murtagh couldn't understand the strange emotions coursing through his veins, bringing something dormant to full force within him. From her look, he was sure Salem felt the same. Finally, Salem said quietly, You know this is impossible.
Murtagh hesitated. He pulled his gaze away from hers, staring down at the outline of the mountains ahead. Yes.
We could jump, Salem suggested, seeing the wistfulness in his look.
He stared at her. And that would help matters how?
She shrugged. We get to have the once-in-the-lifetime experience of skydiving.
Murtagh was startled into a laugh. Well, how can I possibly turn that down? I live to skydive.
Salem smiled, but clearly her heart wasn't in it. Her eyes were distracted as she stared at a point above his head. I hate this, she said abruptly. All of it.
If we got everything we wanted in life, we'd be spoiled rotten, Murtagh said, shaking his head.
Well, if you get nothing you want in life, then you're suicidal and depressed. She sighed. I don't know. I feel… she hesitated, clearly uncertain. I feel as if I'm betraying Reynold, she managed finally.
Reynold?
Yes. The…the man I killed. He… she looked away, her mouth trembling. He was outspoken and…well, too much like me. Like repels like, I know, the relationship would've never worked. I fought back in self-defense, but I just…just wonder. Her hand tightened on his. We kissed. There's no point in denying it. And...I don't know. It felt right, sort of, in a way Reynold didn't. And now I feel like I'm spitting on his memory, and we're all going to be cursed.
She looked up and smiled ruefully. You probably think I'm childish, don't you? Silly girl, believing in curses.
I think it's guilt, Murtagh said, brushing her cheek with his thumb. Honoring the dead.
She made a face at him. Oh, stop parroting my words back to me. I hate it when that happens.
They sat in contented silence. Both of them could sense something subtly different in the air and their manner towards each other—in that single, impulsive kiss, a barrier had been snapped apart.
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Conversation came to them easily now, and the tension that had dominated their prison stay had vanished. They still avoided the past—the subject was still too painful, even now—but no longer were they suspicious of each other.
During interludes in the talk, both of them viewed the land below constantly with growing unease. The terrain below shifted, melding from plain to mountain to coastline, and then more alarmingly, to ocean.
Where are we going? Salem wondered for the umpteenth time. And yes, I know the 'why' is also important, but I should think the answer to 'where' is pretty interesting too…
There aren't that many lands overseas, Murtagh frowned. He closed his eyes, trying to remember the old maps. Sharktooth, I suppose…Vroengard…Beirland, Illium…and not to forget the countless islands off the northwestern coast.
So basically, we could be going anywhere, Salem said, completing his thoughts.
Murtagh hesitated. Well, I think the most likely destination is Vroengard, the old Rider stronghold. But why go there?
Maybe he wants to gloat, Salem suggested. The tales all say that Galbatorix destroyed the last Rider at the gates of Doru Araeba.
All the way out here just to gloat? No. There must be something else. Murtagh frowned, tapping the saddle.
He felt a nudge in his ribs and looked quizzically at the direction Salem was pointing. Galbatorix had pulled up next to them and was motioning for them to descend; there was a smudge of land right ahead that had to be their destination. What… Salem muttered, staring at it. Looks big enough to be another continent…
Thorn dropped without being asked, matching Shruikan's pace with fluid beats of his wings. As the two dragons circled over the land, the buildings beneath them triggered a faint memory in his head. Where…I've seen that before.
They dropped down onto a small plain, the brisk evening wind playing over them. Galbatorix dismounted first, grinning broadly. He waved his arms dramatically at them as they dismounted.
"Welcome!" he shouted. "This is Vroengard!"
"Vroengard…?" Murtagh said slowly, letting the unspoken question hang in the air.
Galbatorix laughed unpleasantly. They had landed on a croppy valley, with high mountains streaking up on all sides. "Over there lies the remains of Doru Araeba," he said, gesturing to the right. "But I'm not interested in Doru Araeba; there's nothing there." He turned to face them, his eyes glinting with malicious humor.
"Then what?" Salem said, her voice tight with tension.
Galbatorix walked over to the base of one of the mountains, running his hands over the base of the rock and muttering a few words they couldn't quite catch. The effect was immediate and startling as the stone creaked, then split open to reveal a small tunnel, branching through to gods-know-where. "After you, milady," he said with a mocking grin at Salem.
Murtagh could feel the apprehension in Salem; a quick glance at her showed that her face was pale and bloodless. He could feel adrenaline coursing through his own veins as Galbatorix's smile widened to grotesque proportions, all the teeth showing in some misshapen leer. "Where—where does that go?" Salem whispered finally, staring at the hole.
"It's a cavern of secrets," Galbatorix answered matter-of-factly. "One of the best hidden Rider secrets, as a matter of fact, known only by a few. I discovered it after prying through several mounds of traps and riddles." He flashed a knowing look at Shruikan. "They called it Vinael Ephicai, the elves did. I suppose you might translate it as the Vault of Souls."
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End of Chapter Thirty-Five
Is that a cliffie? I don't think so, but maybe it's just because I've reviewed my plotline about ten bazillion times. Next chapter will be posted in about 3-5 days. Once again, depending on how inspired my muses are and how disturbingly insane my life gets. And yes, the dreaded SCHOOL starts in…um…a week and a half. Or so. Once that happens, it's back to once-a-week updates. –winces- But anyway, hopefully I will be done before then.
Seriously, if you think I overstepped, please don't flame. I mean, constructive criticism is fine; I like that kind of stuff. Just no evil insults because I'll cry! –sniffs for effect- I was so scared about this particular chapter that I asked a friend of mine to actually beta it, and I've never done that before. She said it was fine, but I almost cut it out anyway before (after three rewrites) finally leaving most of it intact.
Anyway, this story is right on track. So expect anywhere from 2-3 chapters before the Burning Plains.
I'm not on a sugar high today, which is rather annoying. So forgive me if I am less perky and witty in my responses.
Silver sliver: Thorn's tail? Well, you know, they have to be alive and intact for Roran to stab them with his hammer. Which is lame. As alsdssg said in her character-bashing fic, GET A SWORD! JEEZ, WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM! I mean, even a dagger would be better. Archery, if nothing else. But hammers! –mutters under breath-
Well, I wouldn't say Salem and Murtagh are exactly falling 'head over heels'. I mean, I would explain their emotions in a lengthy character analysis that would make everybody fall asleep, but I would hope you understand why they kissed and all. Suffice it to say, the 'sudden love' between them caught even them by surprise.
Aurora: Thankees! Thorn is…well, conflicted. I'm busy planning out what EXACTLY happened to him now, and with my morbid imagination it's not going to turn out to be anything pleasant. So start pitying him.
Ariel32: Okay, okay! I think I made this chapter reasonably nice and long; it's seven pages now anyway even if you don't count responses. So really, you have no excuse for dying even if I DID post a sorta-cliffie.
School starts in two days? Wow, you're unlucky. I think my school starts around August 31 or something like that, but the school year ends sometime in July. Which sucks, really, but at least I get a few extra days now to sleep.
Fallonaiya Sedai: The Twins ain't dead yet! Remember, Roran has to bash in their brains at the end of Eldest? Well, he bashed in one brain, anyway, but the other Twin fell to pieces right after. So really he killed two birds with one stone.
GIVE ME SOME OF THAT CHOCOLATE! I want to feel all jazzed up. Right now, I think I'm in kinda a meditative mood or something. Very Zen. And it's annoying. I prefer the sugar highs.
Alsdssg: A FELLOW TAMORA PIERCE FAN! WH00T! –does happy dance- Isn't TP great? I mean, the Song of the Lioness Quartet mainly just sucked, but the rest are AWESOME. Are you a Neal/Yuki fan? There's this one TP fanfic writer whose writing I really like, Anaroriel. You should honestly read that fic, A Self Induced Ordeal, especially if you're a sucker for Neal.
On another tack, I have fun writing Galbatorix's character. It's exciting to make a person sarcastically all-out insane-evil-psycho-nut because you don't have to constantly worry about leaving some 'good' qualities behind like I have to do with Thorn.
Kana410: I already began parts of the Burning Plains chapter, but I'm finding that I have to throw some of it out because of the constantly shifting nature of this fic (meaning that I don't really follow the plot). It WILL be one of the easiest chapters for me to write, though, if I ever manage to get there without adding more chapters in between…
Its.Garnet.Time: Okay, I'm telling the joke…no throwing tomatoes if you're insulted…
So, one day, there's a redhead, a brunette, and a blond walking down the street doing drugs or something similarly illegal. They hear sirens and they're all, "Oh no, hide!" So the redhead hides behind a garbage can, a brunette behind a tree, and the blond lays low in a field.
The police come walking by. They catch sight of the redhead and they're wondering what it is. Frantic, the redhead yells, "Woof, woof!" and the police say, "Oh, it's just a dog," and they walk on.
They pass the brunette's hiding place and catch sight of the brunette. They're wondering what it is when the brunette calls, "Meow, meow!" The police go, "Oh, it's just a cat," and walk on.
Then they pass the blond's hiding place, and they catch sight of the blond. They're wondering what it is when the blond calls out, "Potato, potato."
Now you owe me a joke. Tell me the talking muffin one.
Emerald Tiara: Oh, nyah nyah nyah. Excuses, excuses. What kind of camp did you go to? I harbor fond memories of this extremely awesome camp (Hidden Springs, wh00t!) where everyday was just insane, and games were fast and bordered right on violence with no quarter given or taken by either side! Hah HAH! We got cool T-shirts, too, but I have no idea where mine went. –breaks down and sobs-
Gewher: Well, I'm glad you're happy about the extra chapter, because I (who has to WRITE the chapter) find myself less than ecstatic at the prospect. But anyway, I did manage to spark off that little…um…scene.
I'm actually kind of nervous about how the feedback is going to be for the chapter. I mean, I asked for Salem/Murtagh reviews last time and the responses were MAINLY positive, but on the whole the general opinion was 'the chemistry is fine'. Whatever that means. I think I took kind of a big leap in this chapter, which makes me nervous. –shivers-
KATHiwatari: Blech, and here was me hoping no one would notice. I know about the scrying scene, but for some reason I can't FIND THE SECTION THAT TELLS ME WHEN IT HAPPENS! I don't know when Eragon was scryed, so I'm going to have to patch it sometime AFTER all this melodrama is done. I don't know. I'll get to it, eventually, but I honestly don't know if it'll be accurate when it comes to dates.
But on a happier note, I managed to get all the other dates lined up! Yess! Rereading a book does have uses, apparently. Actually, my poor copy of Eldest has been beaten up from one side of the universe to the other…tape is the only thing that keeps it together now.
Mrs Pierre Bouvier: So how's your opinion on them (M/S) now? Did I overdo it? –wrings hands worriedly- Yes, I have a tendency to repeat myself, but this point is really starting to gnaw on my nerves. I almost cut out that section three times today, replacing it one time with this bit where Thorn interrupts them before they actually kiss. Don't flame! I'll cry!
Amantine: -snickers- For some reason, threats make me laugh. I'm weird, aren't I? So you're probably going to hate me for THIS cliffhanger… -breaks out into hysterics- Aha. AHAHAHAHA!
Sorry about that. –cough-
Coffee Grounds: FRAPPUCHINO! GIMME THE FRAPPUCHINO! –starts chugging it down- You can keep the Reeses, I find they have too much peanut butter and I hate that. Dove chocolate is awesome, though, you have any of that?
I took about a year and a half of French, so maybe I can talk with your evil French Roast. –shudders and reconsiders- On second thought…let's not. That thing still gives me the creeps.
Mistress-of-Misery: I actually DID change the genre to tragedy, but that was before I actually started writing this chapter. Then, I felt like I had to change it back, just because…well…it IS romance now. Are you annoyed?
You're so suspicious of me. –bats eyelashes innocently- How could I possibly kill any of my characters? All (give or take one or two) of my characters that I have needed to kill off are already dead. And I did promise I wouldn't kill Salem, and I always keep my promises. –giggles mischievously-
I do like algebra, actually, it was kind of fun figuring out all that stuff. It'll be interesting to discover calculus…after all I do want to go into computer sciences or something similar when I 'grow up' (whenever that may be) so I suppose mathematics are a vital part I need to learn.
Read and review!
…oh wait, you already read. All that's left is for you to review, then!