This is a dramatic one, readers! The Ra'zac! A midnight attack! Brom's Fate! A much awaited character! And worst of all: a cliffhanger!
Buckle your seatbelts and have fun!
Rage welled up within Nari at the sight of them. She hadn't seen them since the day she'd left Carvahall, but she'd thought of them often, these creatures who had murdered her uncle. She had chased them for so long now, she had almost forgotten that they were the reason Garrow was dead. They had killed him for spite, not because he had information they wanted. He had known nothing, had been alone and defenseless, and they'd murdered him. Had poured Seithr oil on him, the acid that ate at skin. They'd probably burnt down the only home she'd ever known.
Her anger exploded like a volcano, fueled by her pent-up agony at not being able to help the slaves. She felt the magic bubble up inside her again, but this time she released it with a roar, not bothering to reach for the knife strapped to her leg.
"Garjzla bjart!" She snarled, wishing to hurt.
Blue light exploded from her hand, brighter than the sun. The Ra'zac shrieked, a sound that was undeniably agony as the light assaulted them.
Nari reached for the knife at her leg, but faltered when a line of soldiers filed into the cathedral, and she glimpsed a field of uniforms jostling outside the doorway.
This isn't a chance meeting, she thought. They knew I was here. If they knew that, Brom is in danger as well! I have to find him!
She gave the cowering Ra'zac one last glance before glancing around hurriedly, searching for another way out.
A vestibule to the left of the altar caught her attention. She released her hold on her magic and bounded through the archway, racing down a corridor that led to a priory with a belfry. She listened intently, but there was no sign of the Ra'zac pursuing. The silence made her worry more; at least if they were behind her, they would not be ahead or headed for Brom. To her dismay, the hall abruptly ended with a locked door.
"Ma'mor!" She gasped, hearing the lock click. She darted through the door into the room and locked the door behind her.
She sped through several chambers, startling a group of priests. Shouts and questions of concern followed her through the halls but she didn't bother to pause. Brom's warnings about drawing attention were useless now.
She came to the kitchen, forced to dodge through the people, searching desperately for an exit. Finally, she skidded to stop in a garden surrounded by a high brick wall devoid of handholds. There were no other exits. She turned to backtrack, feeling a lump in her throat as she panted.
Just as she reached for the door, the priory bell tolled an alarm and she heard a snarl as the Ra'zac demanded to know her whereabouts.
Relief and dread swept through her: they had not gone after Brom, but they were furious.
Desperate, she rushed at the wall, arms pumping. Using just the barest sliver of power, Nari breathed, "Reisa," and felt her body lighten, allowing her to hoist herself up with ease. She swung herself up and over, just in time to hear the door open, quiet hissing emanating from the new arrivals. Quickly, before they could spot her hands clutching the top of the wall, she dropped down on the other side.
The thud her feet made on the earth, and Brom's every word about the Ra'zac ringing in her mind, Nari quickly bolted down the alley and turned the corner.
Behind her, she heard their cloaks flapping like raven wings, their demented hissing easily heard, though there was no other sound to indicate that they'd just jumped the wall behind her.
She cried out with her mind as she ran. Saphira, find Brom! Let him know that the Ra'zac found me; I managed to get away, but we'll need to leave the city quickly! Tell him to be careful, and let him know I'll meet him back at the inn.
Done, Saphira replied, a bubbly anger and worry making her tone curt. Don't stop moving, he says. As long as they have your trail, you're in grave danger.
I know. She ran over a mile before she ran out of breath and had to slow down. She continued walking, heading steadily towards the Golden Globe. She made it back before Brom, but she focused on packing and saddling the horses rather than let her worries make her sick.
She was just leading the horses to the street when Brom arrived, staff in hand and scowling dangerously. His eyes scanned her for injuries before he swung up onto Snowfire and asked, "What happened?"
"I made a mistake," she confessed, getting on Dusk. "I was in the cathedral when the Ra'zac and a bunch of soldiers showed up. I managed to get away, but they could be here at any second. 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," said Brom. "If they're shut, it'll be nigh impossible for us to leave. Whatever you do, don't get separated from me." As though summoned by his dire predictions, ranks of soldiers marched down one end of the street.
Brom cursed, lashed Snowfire with his reins, and galloped away. Nari followed quickly on his heels. They nearly crashed several times 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, Nari groaned with dismay. The gates were already half closed, and a double line of pikemen blocked their way.
"What do we do?"
"I'll deal with the men; keep the gates open for us," said Brom, his voice hard. Nari nodded firmly, already searching for the words she needed.
They plowed toward the line of unwavering soldiers, who lowered their pikes toward the horses' chests and braced the weapons against the ground. Snowfire and Dusk snorted with fear, but Nari reached out and steadied them with her mind.
The soldiers began to shout, in aggression or alarm or warning, but Nari kept her attention firmly on the gates inching shut. The soldiers were Brom's to deal with. She had to trust him.
As they neared the sharp pikes, Brom raised his right 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 the gates shrank by the second. Hoping that the effort would not prove too much, Nari lifted her own right hand and shouted, "Dvelja du grind!"
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 Nari shot out from behind Dras-Leona's wall. Nari shouted, "letta," without looking back and heard the boom as the gates slammed shut.
She breathed a sigh of relief and let the magic she had left, greatly diminished from her efforts, slink back through the thin barrier that contained it.
Their flight continued through the outskirts of Dras-Leona as alarm trumpets sounded on the city wall. Saphira was waiting for them by the edge of the city, hidden behind some trees. Her eyes burned; her tail whipped back and forth.
"Go, ride her; no arguments." said Brom. "You can fly nearby; I don't care if Saphira's seen. I'll head south. We can discuss more later."
Reluctantly, Nari mounted Saphira. As the ground dwindled away beneath them, she watched Brom gallop along the road.
Are you alright, my heart? Saphira demanded.
Yes, dear one. But it was a close thing. Nari quickly explained the sight she'd seen at the slave market before moving to the cathedral. When she was finished, she sighed heavily. Saphira huffed, smoke escaping her nostrils.
All the time we've spent searching for the Ra'zac was useless.
Not useless, my heart. We've grown so much since we left Carvahall. Our journey has given us many valuable lessons. Still, I do not like this feeling of having failed either. If the Ra'zac had been the only enemies back there, I would have stayed and fought. They were vulnerable after my first spell, I could have killed at least one before I had to flee. But with all the soldiers on their side, I would not have survived it.
We will have to go to the Varden now, Saphira pointed out. This was hardly an unobtrusive escape; they will search for us fiercely now that they have seen us.
The next few days and nights will be the most dangerous, Nari agreed, glancing worriedly down at where Brom rode beneath them.
They flew low and fast as Leona Lake receded behind them; the land became dry and rocky and filled with tough, sharp bushes and tall cactuses.
Clouds darkened the sky. Lightning flashed in the distance. As the wind began to howl, Saphira glided steeply down to Brom. He stopped the horses at their approach and asked, "What's wrong?"
"The wind's too strong."
"It's not that bad," objected Brom, frowning suspiciously at her.
"It is up there," Nari snapped, leaving Saphira's back.
Brom swore and handed her Dusk'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 through the air. They wrapped scarves around their heads to protect their eyes. Brom's robe flapped in the wind while his beard whipped about as if it had a life of its own. Though it would make them both miserable, Nari hoped it would rain so that their tracks would be obliterated. They might get an extra day's head start if it did.
Soon darkness forced them to stop for the night. 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, Nari repeated the story of her day to Brom. "I shouldn't have gone in at all," she said bitterly. "I should have known that creatures who live in Helgrind would get support from the people who worshipped it. I just don't understand how they were able to get all of the soldiers there so quickly."
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."
"The Ra'zac saw me in Carvahall, and again today. They know I'm the Rider."
"Yes," Brom agreed, "and the king will soon know your identity as well."
"Will Roran be alright? Will they kill him too?" She demanded despairingly.
"I do not doubt they will track him down, but they will not kill him. Most likely, Galbatorix will be furious that they killed Garrow." Nari furrowed her brow.
"Why?" Brom arches an eyebrow at her and the answer came as soon as she thought about it. "A threat," she realized aloud. "Do as we tell you, or we'll kill your family."
"Yes," Brom agreed. "It is a fairly easy tactic, and it works more often than not. Few people are brave in the face of danger to their children or wife. Having been raised in a small village where family is valued above anything except survival, Galbatorix would believe you are more vulnerable than most."
"Aren't I?" She asked him ruefully.
"Yes," Brom told her bluntly, "but it is a weakness that we are aware of, which makes it much easier to control than a weakness that could catch us by surprise."
"Weakness," she repeated. How could valuing your family suddenly be a weakness when for so long it had been her biggest strength?
"A commendable strength in peace, but a danger in war. And one extremely common in people who fight for the best outcome," Brom told her gently. "As long as you have not met Galbatorix face-to-face for him to present the threat, Roran will live, even if they hold him. Keep that in mind when you are overcome with worry for him." Nari nodded. "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."
"Alright," Nari agreed. She crouched down to unroll their blankets. "You should sleep. You were up early. I'll take-"
"Nari!" Brom's tell and Saphira's roar were the last things she heard before pain erupted in the back of her head and her legs crumpled beneath her. Darkness overwhelmed her vision as she lost consciousness.
When she woke, it was to the sharp waves of pain that wracked her head. Every few moments, another pain would come. When she cracked her eyes open, tears of pain came without warning. The light from the lantern felt like arrows to her skull. She shut them again quickly and assessed the rest of her body. Her body was heavy and her hands were numb. She tried to shift her arms but couldn't move them far from where they were wound behind her back.
I'm tied up, she realized with dread. What happened? Why am I injured? She reached for Saphira and found her conciousnes, but it was so far away Nari could not reach her. For the first time since Saphira had begun to speak, Nari could not hear her. Saphira! Nari shouted with her mind, but Saphira didn't answer. At least she's safe, Nari thought.
Opening her eyes again, Nari immediately flinched away from the light, moving slowly. Looking over her shoulder, Nari found Brom tied to her back, their hands bound together. Nari felt a strange relief at that, but didn't understand why. Seeing Brom, unconscious and bound rather than with Saphira, was not a relief.
It's because he's still alive, she realized, feeling relief rush through her again at the thought.
But how had they gotten here? Who had them?
Before she could think more about it, a pair of black boots entered her vision. She looked straight up into the Ra'zac's cowled face.
Rage welled up within Nari at the sight of them. She hadn't seen them since the day she'd left Carvahall, but she'd thought of them often, these creatures who had murdered her uncle. She had chased them for so long now, she had almost forgotten that they were the reason Garrow was dead. They had killed him for spite, not because he had information they wanted. He had known nothing, had been alone and defenseless, and they'd murdered him. Had poured Seithr oil on him, the acid that ate at skin. They'd probably burnt down the only home she'd ever known. Her anger was tempered only by her helplessness, and her fear for Brom.
Her head giving another shooting pain and the roiling in her stomach gave her another reason not to attack.
"You are hurting, yessss? Good," the Ra'zac laughed maliciously. "I think you will not be bothering us any time soon, little Rider."
There was a rattle off to the left, and Nari glanced over instinctively, and moaned in despair at the sight. The second Ra'zac was fitting a muzzle over Saphira's head. Her wings were pinioned to her sides by black chains; there were shackles on her legs. Nari tried to reach for her, but she still felt far away.
"She was most cooperative once we threatened to kill you," hissed the Ra'zac. Squatting by the lantern, he rummaged through Nari and Brom's bags, examining and discarding various items. Nari watched with despair as her mother's books and Du Grind Eom Hûgin on the ground without a care.
It wasn't until he removed Zar'roc that he paused. "What a pretty thing for one so . . . insignificant. Maybe I will keep it." He leaned closer and sneered, "Or maybe, if you behave, our master will let you admire its place on his wall." His moist breath smelled like raw meat.
Then he turned the sword over in his hands and screeched as he saw the symbol on the scabbard. His companion rushed over. They stood over the sword, hissing and clicking. Nari frowned, trying to concentrate. Why did it seem as though they recognized Zar'roc?
At last, they turned to face Nari.
"You will serve our master very well, yesss."
"Never," Nari snarled, the words coming out slurred.
They chuckled coldly. "Many others have said the same; you will not be the first nor the last to….break."
A deep snarl came from Saphira; smoke roiled from her nostrils. The Ra'zac did not seem to care.
Their attention was diverted when Brom groaned and rolled onto his side.
One of the Ra'zac snarled impatiently. "It'sss wearing off."
"Give him more."
"Let'sss just kill him," said the shorter Ra'zac. "He has caused us much grief."
The taller one ran his finger down his sword. "A good plan. But remember, the king's instructions were to keep them alive."
"We can sssay he was killed when we captured them."
"And what of thisss one?" the Ra'zac asked, pointing his sword at Nari. "What if she talksss?"
His companion laughed and drew a wicked dagger. "She would not dare."
There was a long silence, then, "Agreed."
They cut the rope tying her tied hands to Brom's and dragged Brom to the center of the camp, shoving him to his knees. Brom sagged to one side. Nari struggled, trying to draw on the magic within her.
"Leave him alone!" She cried. "Brom! Brom!" She wrenched at the ropes, but they were too strong for her to break.
The tall Ra'zac turned to glare at her. "Be silent and still, girl," he ordered, poking at her with the sword. Saphira snarled in outrage but Nari ignored them both, eyes locked on Brom's form.
The other Ra'zac growled, yanked Brom's head back, and swept the dagger toward his exposed throat.
"No!" Nari screamed.
At that very moment a low buzz whizzed through the air, followed by the Ra'zac's howl. An arrow protruded from his shoulder. The Ra'zac nearest Nari dropped to the ground, barely avoiding a second arrow. He scuttled to his wounded companion, and they glared into the darkness, hissing angrily.
They made no move to stop Brom as he blearily staggered upright. "Brom, get down!" She shouted, wondering if the person shooting would avoid him or simply not care if he was caught in the middle.
Brom wavered, then tottered toward her, drawn by her voice. "Jierda!" She commanded. The magic was sluggish and weak; the cut frayed the ropes binding her rather than slicing them cleanly. She yanked at them, trying to pull at the fraying.
As more arrows hissed into the camp from the unseen attackers, the Ra'zac rolled behind some boulders, hissing and clicking at each other again. During the lull that followed,Nari finally managed to get her hands untied, the useless rope falling to the floor.
Before anyone could react, arrows came from the opposite direction. Caught by surprise, the Ra'zac reacted slowly. Their cloaks were pierced in several places, and a shattered arrow buried itself in one's arm.
Nari lunged for the knife that the Ra'zac had cast aside. With a wild cry, the smaller Ra'zac fled toward the road, stomping on Nari's fingers viciously as he passed. She recoiled from the knife, cradling her hand, crying out in pain as she felt her fingers break. The larger Ra'zac hesitated, then grabbed the dagger from the ground and raced after the smaller. As he left the camp, he hurled the knife at Nari.
A protective fury suddenly burned in Brom's eyes. He threw himself in front of Nari, 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! Brom! Brom!" Nari screamed, the pain in her right hand less fierce than the pain in her chest at the sIgor of Brom's unmoving form.
She struggled to prop herself up on her knees, ignoring the shooting pains from her head and hand in her desperation. She heard footsteps behind her, and twisted sharply. Abruptly, the world began to spin and the ground moved underneath her. She managed to catch sight of a young man with brown hair before the darkness overtook her.
She lay for a long time in a dazed state of half-awake and half-asleep, aware of the pain coursing through her but unable to see. It felt like she could sit up, wide awake in seconds, except that she couldn't move or make a sound. Her sense of time had deserted her completely; minutes or hours or days could have gone by without time seeming to pass at all.
Finally, she was able to force her eyes to open. Firelight danced several feet away, enough to fight off the chill and the dark.
She reached for Saphira immediately upon the realization that she could.
Sister of my soul, Nari whimpered. Are you injured?
No, my heart, but you and the old one are. Nari glanced up from the shadows dancing on the ground to see her, wings spread protectively over Nari.
What is wrong? Nari asked, alarmed. Are the Ra'zac still close?
No, my heart. There is a stranger here. It was then that Nari took another look at the fire and Saphira. The fire was dancing cheerfully, well-fed, and Saphira no longer had the awful bindings on her. Struggling to her knees, Nari saw the young man with brown hair that she remembered approaching before it had all gone black on the far side of the fire.
He looked to be only a few years older than she was, and several inches taller. He was extremely handsome, with a serious face and fierce eyes. He held himself with calm assurance.
He had a bow in his hands, a sword at his side and a dagger in his boot. He was dressed in worn, batttered clothes, but a white horn bound with silver fittings lay in his lap, and a gray war-horse was picketed behind him.
This struck Nari as odd, especially the quality of his weapons; the man was either an excellent thief, or a horrible runaway to be outfitted so.
He was watching Saphira with caution. He was smart, then.
"Who are you?" She asked warily.
The man stood, causing Saphira to growl, but he only dipped into a shallow bow. Nari felt herself flush, then scowled.
"I am Murtagh, Lady Rider." His voice was low and controlled, but somehow filled with emotion. Still, despite his apparent gallantry, he kept his eyes on Saphira.
"You were the one helping us; you were shooting arrows at them. Why?"
"You aren't the only enemies the Ra'zac have. I was tracking them."
"You know who they are?" Nari narrowed her eyes at him.
"Yes." He had to be nobleborn, then. No thief, even a spectacular one, would hunt the Ra'zac. Only a noble brat would think he had the skills to take on the Ra'zac. But what could he be doing here, so far from the cities?
Nari stood up, trying not to jostle her hand, despite the awkwardness of levering herself up with her left. She stumbled once, but then managed. She took two steps forward, not trusting that the dizziness wouldn't come back, but it seemed to be gone.
She moved closer to the fire, immediately kneeling down next to Brom.
"How is he?" Nari asked, seeing that Murtagh had cut open the side of his robe to bandage the wound.
"Bad," Murtagh said gruffly. "The knife went right 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. Your dragon wouldn't let me close enough to examine you."
Nari grit her teeth and held out her hand. Murtagh hissed in dismay as Nari examined her hand for the first time. Two of her fingers were clearly broken and bruised, and four of them were swollen.
Nari looked down at her hand worriedly.
Her right hand controlled her magic and her blades. And Brom was seriously injured as well. What if the Ra'zac came back? What if Empire soldiers or, worse, the king himself, found them?
I will fight tooth and claw to keep you safe, my heart! Saphira declared.
Even you can only do so much, sister of my soul.
Murtagh, unaware, was tearing a shirt into small strips. "They're not as bad as they look," he promised. "I'll set them and bind them tightly. It should be only a month or two and you'll be good as new." That said he grabbed a stick, breaking it in two.
She grit her teeth and tried not to cry out as he shifted the two fingers back into place and used the sticks to keep them straight while he tied them in place, wrapping each finger separately before tying them to the unbroken fingers on either side. Tears escaped, and Saphira snarled. Murtagh glanced at her but didn't stop.
When he was finished, Nari took a moment to breathe before turning to Brom. Clumsily, She reaches for the bandage.
"I wouldn't do that," warned Murtagh. "The cut wouldn't stop bleeding; he'll bleed to death without it."
Nari paused, then reached for Du Grin Eom Hûgin instead. She flipped through the pages, sometimes having to flip back, scratching the occasional word into the dirt.
Help me, Nari requested.
Always.
He was stabbed, between his ribs, by the Ra'zac's knife. It was probably coated in seithr oil, poison acid, and slow to heal. I need to get the poison out, and heal anything inside that may be damaged before I can heal the wound itself.
How will you cast this magic with your hand wounded?
My palm is still free and , if nothing else, I can cast with my left. Brom said it was more difficult, but not impossible.
Do you have the strength for it? Saphira asked worriedly.
Probably not, Nari admitted tearfully, but it cannot wait. The longer we wait, the more time the poison will have to spread, the more strength it will take.
I will lend you mine, then.
Can you? Saphira chuckled in her thoughts, as though Nari were ridiculous.
Of course. We are one.
Yes, Nari agreed, feeling the warmth flow through their bond. But not too much. We cannot have you weak as well.
If you perish in this, weakness will be the least of my concerns, my heart.
Yes, dear one, Nari apologized, chagrined.
When she and Saphira had gone through every word she had learned and agreed on what she was to say, Nari put the book down and turned back to Brom. She undid the bandage carefully, and pulled the cloth away from his side. The wound was short and thin, belying its depth. Blood streamed out of it.
She brought her hand up to his wound, pressing down, and felt his lifeblood begin to soak her fingers. Trying to ignore his still face, Nari reached for her magic. With her emotions high, and after months of practice, the magic leapt eagerly to her palm. As Saphira's mind joined hers, new strength infused her body. Nari drew upon their combined power and focused it on the words. Her hand trembled as she held it over the wound.
"Letta du eldrvarya adurna; eitha Du gata abr pömnuria kyn! Heill älfrs kverstar!" Her palm glowed brighter than ever before. Slowly, so slowly, a trickle of liquid that was not blood gushed from the wound. She quickly turned Brom onto his side to allow it to trickle onto the ground, careful not to touch the dangerous oil. When it seemed to have stopped, she felt her strength seriously depleted, and there was still more for the spell to do. She started to see black dots, her body limp, as she finally saw Brom's skin flow together, as if it had never been broken.
With no warning, she felt her bond to Saphira diminish to a thread, and then darkness took her.
The image of a lone candle flickered in the darkness, brightening to illuminate a stone cell. A woman from was curled up on a cot in one corner. She lifted her head, dark hair falling back, and stared directly at Nari. She froze, the force of the woman's despair freezing her in place. Chills ran up her spine as their eyes locked. Then the woman trembled and collapsed limply. A great sense of purpose overwhelmed Nari, and she memorized every detail about the woman she could before it all faded away.
When she woke, it was to Murtagh's hand on her forehead. She yelped, jerking backwards. He leapt back as well, apologizing.
"You've slept for two days," he told her. "Neither you nor your dragon woke at all. If the two of you hadn't been breathing, I would have thought you dead."
"I think we almost were," she confessed, relieved that Saphira lived.
She reached for their bond, but froze. She could feel the fragile thing that bound them together, as small as a spider's silk; it had been a raging river before, emotions and thoughts flooding between them with ease. Now, it felt like a single strong emotion could snap it with ease.
"Saphira?" She whimpered aloud, scrambling to her feet. She darted over to where Saphira lay, body rising with her breaths. Her eyes were closed, and she didn't respond.
A low moan escaped her throat as she sat at Saphira's feet.
Don't kill me!
Oh, and btw, the repitition of Nari's thoughts when she sees the Ra'zac is intentional. She's suffering from a concussion, and memory loss and disorientation are common side effects.
As you might have noticed, the drugs they gave her have less of an effect than they did on Eragon. ;)