Whut…? Thirty chapters…? Whut…? Whaaaa… but I don't own the Inheritance Cycle or anything! Just Tania and Ophelia.
Ooh, and guest reviews!
Bryony Lynn (awesome name, by the way): Wow, thanks! As for who ends up with the girl… heehee, you'll see. Eventually. It's gradual. And yes, I have considered it, but I think I'll do that in the second book-era, keeping to its style.
Ah, Angela… you'll see. She's coming up pretty soon, too, so stay tuned!
RunWithScissors (be careful!): Hee hee, thanks.
Hmm… that is a conversation for another day, I'm afraid. Probably a confession… to… *drumroll please* a very certain person! Haha, you'll have to wait and see.
I am too. Orik never gets enough credit. DWARVES ARE AWESOME! Woot!
One of the warriors motioned to Eragon. "You go first." Eragon went through the doorway, followed by Saphira, Murtagh and Tania, who drew herself into a proud position, not failing to notice some of the terrified looks one or two of the soldiers gave her.
When they reached the huge tunnel through which they had first entered the mountain, the bald man was waiting with the dwarf, who was holding the horses' reins.
"You will ride single file down the center of the tunnel," instructed the bald man. "If you attempt to go anywhere else, you will be stopped." When Eragon started to climb onto Saphira, the bald man shouted, "No! Ride your horse until I tell you otherwise."
Eragon just shrugged and took Snowfire's reins. Tania crocked an eyebrow as she swung into Cadoc's saddle, biting back a hiss as a twinge of pain shot up her leg at the movement. She let Tornac and Murtagh in front of her, unwilling to let her companion out of sight.
The bald man examined their small line, then gestured at the warriors, who divided in half to surround them, giving Saphira as wide a berth as possible. The dwarf and the bald man took the head of the procession.
He wants to seem more important than he is, Tania thought. Perhaps he simply wants higher status? Or…
…Or he's trying to make sure no one thinks he's a traitor. Tania frowned, but was shaken from her thoughts as the bald man clapped twice and started walking forward. Tania nudged Cadoc gently with her heel, urging him into a quiet walk. The entire group headed toward the heart of the mountain. Echoes filled the tunnel as the horses' hooves struck the hard floor, the sounds amplified in the deserted passageway. Doors and gates occasionally disturbed the otherwise smooth walls, but they were always closed.
The skill with which it was mined was incredible—the walls, floor and ceiling were crafted with flawless precision. The angles at the bases of the walls were perfectly square, and as far as she could tell, the tunnel itself did not vary from its course by even an inch.
She wondered what Ajihad, the leader of the Varden, would be like. She hadn't heard much, but could guess he was a powerful, cunning man—he'd survived the campaign against Galbatorix for decades, after all, though the company he kept made her less than sure of where her loyalty would lie when it came down to it. The fact that Brom had trusted the Varden enough to ally himself with them allayed her fears, but not much.
After nearly an hour, a soft white glow became visible ahead of them. The glow increased in strength as they neared it. Tania noticed thick marble pillars, laced with rubies and amethysts, standing in rows along the walls. Scores of lanterns hung between the pillars, suffusing the air with liquid brilliance. Gold tracery gleamed from the pillars' bases like molten thread. Arching over the ceiling were carved raven heads, their beaks open in mid-screech. At the end of the hallway rested two colossal black doors, accented by shimmering silver lines that depicted a seven-pointed crown that spanned both sides.
The bald man stopped and raised a hand. He turned to Eragon. "You will ride upon your dragon now. Do not attempt to fly away. There will be people watching, so remember who and what you are." At the mention of people, Tania shuddered mentally. Thank the stars I don't have Ophelia with me for this, she thought. Out of habit, she reached down the grasp the hilt of her knife, feeling a stab of icy panic when her fingers didn't brush the copper wire-wrapped pommel, before remembering that they had taken their weapons.
Eragon dismounted Snowfire and then clambered onto Saphira. "I'm ready," he said, squaring his shoulders.
"Good," said the bald man. He and the dwarf retreated to either side of Saphira, staying far enough back so she was clearly in the lead. "Now walk to the doors, and once they open, follow the path. Go slowly."
Saphira approached the doors at a measured pace. Her scales sparkled in the light, sending glints of color dancing over the pillars.
Without warning, the doors swung outward on hidden joints. As the rift widened, Tania was glad she was behind Saphira and Eragon, as the rays of sunlight that streamed into the tunnel were sure to have blinded her otherwise.
For a moment, nothing happened, and Tania found herself thinking, Well, get a move on, we can't stand here all day!
As she thought the words, she barely heard the dwarf say deeply, "Look well, human, for no Rider has set eyes on this for nigh over a hundred years. The airy peak under which we stand is Farthen Dûr—discovered thousands of years ago by the father of our race, Korgan, while he tunneled for gold. And in the center stands our greatest achievement: Tronjheim, the city mountain built from the purest marble." The doors grated to a halt.
In front of her, Tania could just see Eragon raise his hand in a jerky wave, then duck his head. And then a roar, like an onrushing wave, seemed to rush through the cavern.
"Very good," said the bald man. "Now start walking."
They started forward, and Tania finally saw Tronjheim for herself. They were inside a massive volcanic crater. Its walls narrowed to a small, ragged opening so high above that the distance was difficult to judge. A soft beam of light fell through the aperture, illuminating the crater's center, though it left the rest of the cavernous expanse in hushed twilight.
The crater's far side, hazy blue in the distance, looked to be ten miles away. Giant icicles hundreds of feet thick and thousands of feet long hung leagues above them like glistening daggers. Tania knew they were unreachable, even by dragonback, at that height. Farther down the crater's inner walls, dark mats of moss and lichen covered the rock.
On the floor of the cavern, Tania saw a wide cobblestone path extending from the doors' threshold. The path ran straight to the center of the crater, where it ended at the base of a snowy white mountain that glittered like an uncut gem with thousands of colored lights. It was less than a tenth of the height of the crater that loomed over and around it, but its diminutive appearance was deceiving, for it was slightly higher than a mile.
Then she noticed the crowd. Oh dear. Having a traveling companion or two was fine with Tania; she usually didn't mind strangers if they weren't trying to maim, kill and/or capture her. But there were scores of people, humans and dwarves alike, lining the path, packed together like trees in a thicket, cheering excitedly—or some of them were, anyway. Most of the dwarves were glaring at Eragon, some even turning their backs and walking away, stony-faced.
The humans were hard, tough people. All the men had daggers or knives like her own at their waists; many were armed for war. The women carried themselves proudly, but they seemed to conceal a deep-abiding weariness. The few children and babies stared up at their party with wide eyes. Tania could sense that these people had known much hardship, and would do whatever was necessary to protect themselves.
The Varden had found the perfect hiding place. Farthen Dûr's walls were too high for a dragon to fly over, and no army could break through the entranceway, even if it managed to find the hidden doors.
The crowd followed close behind, giving Saphira plenty of room. Gradually the people quieted, though their focus remained on Eragon. Tania saw him glance back, and gave him a reassuring smile. He grimaced at her before turning to face the front again.
Ahead of her, Tania saw Murtagh was riding stiffly, refusing to acknowledge the people around him, and sighed. She really hoped, for the Varden's sake more than anything, that they didn't try to punish him too harshly when they found out about him—there was no if about it, she knew.
Wow… lot's of words… XD. You lucky reader you.
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FF