I'm so excited so excited SO EXCITED GAH I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT FOR A VERY, VERY LONG TIME.
Also, listening to Get Out Alive by Three Days Grace as I write this… definitely fits this chapter.
The first part of the plan went off without a hitch. It was well past midnight before Ophelia reported that the screams stopped. Camouflaged, they glided quietly over the castle, found the dragonhold, dropped in, and slid quietly out of the huge doors (made of some sort of smooth stone that Tania couldn't identify), and found themselves in an enormous empty hallway.
Tania looked up, pushing the hood of her cloak back slightly so that she could see. Along the ceiling were marble rafters, decorative as well as supportive. Do you think you're small enough to go up there and jump from beam to beam? Tania asked.
Ophelia observed them for a moment. I believe I am. Hold on. Quick and quiet as a mouse, she dug her claws into the doorframe and pulled herself up the wall. When she reached the rafters, there was room enough to spread her wings without touching the walls or the ceiling. I think this will be perfect.
Good, because we need to get moving.
And they did. Quiet little leaps from rafter to rafter, searching for someone to wrangle the location of a tortured Dragon and Rider out of. Luckily, they soon passed above a pair of soldiers talking quietly to each other as they guarded the doors to what looked like a bedroom.
"Poor bloke. Good for him for lasting so long, but he's not gonna do it much longer."
"Have you seen his little beast? Moment he hatched, he was tryin' to fight. Sharp claws, the little devil."
"S'that why he moved 'em?
"Aye, it is. Little beast is chained to one corner, while Morzan's son is on the slab."
Tania froze, the words spinning in her mind.
Morzan's son.
Little beast.
Morzan's son.
Murtagh was alive.
And he was the Rider.
Murtagh didn't remember sleeping, but he must have, because it seemed like only twenty minutes before the door opened again. Or maybe he hadn't. Galbatorix was, after all, a tyrant and a sadist. He was out of it, more than he liked, but he could sense that much.
He could also sense that any more pressure on his mind, and he'd break for sure. The dragon knew it. Galbatorix knew it. Those thrice-damned Twins knew it, too. But he would fight to the very end. So he braced himself, closing his eyes and preparing for the worst.
He was expecting hot pokers. Burrow grubs. Daggers made of ice, poisonous snakes, acid, something that hurt.
Cool, gentle fingers carefully releasing the metal bands that bound him to the stone slab beneath him made him jump more than any of the things he'd been imagining would have. He caught his breath in a sharp gasp, eyes flying open.
There was a girl. She hovered above him, her face mostly hidden in the shadow of her hood, but he could see her green eyes flashing with worry.
Green eyes that he'd thought of more than once since he'd been captured, though he tried not to. They took in the bruises, the cuts and burns, the burrow grub wounds that had started to fester, and they started to burn with a dark fury.
A strange sense of satisfaction swept over Murtagh as he fell into blackness once more. I did it. I've actually lost it. Good luck controlling me now, Galbatorix… you can't break a mind that's been lost…
He must have finally lost his mind.
Because he knew that Tania wouldn't want to rescue him.
Upon finding the right door, taking care of the guards and descending down the bare stone steps, Tania was met with a sight that made her blood boil: a crimson hatchling, not even three days old, wings pinned to the wall, suspended a few inches above the floor, blood dripping from countless wounds, tail brushing the floor, bent at an awkward angle… and the Rider, lying immobile on the slab against the far wall, held down by metal bands around his wrists, arms, torso, legs, ankles, and even his forehead.
Tania knelt by the hatchling first, tugging away the iron pins that held the vivid red wings in place, and snapping the fine chain that kept blood-scored torso hanging in the air in a burst of Ophelia's added strength. The dragoness's anger matched Tania's own, and she could feel Ophelia's struggle to keep her scales in check.
Freed from its bonds, the hatchling let out something between a mewl and a strangled croak. Tania gathered the bundle of red wing and scale into her arms and crossed the room to the Rider's side… Murtagh's side.
Ajihad got it easy, she thought, taking in the mangled macabre that was her friend.
But Ajihad will never see a free Alagaësia, Ophelia pointed out. Murtagh still can, but only if we get him and the hatchling out. Hurry.
I know, I know… Tania reached for the closest band, fingers brushing Murtagh's arm. He twitched at the touch, then stilled as she quickly released the rest of the bands.
It was then that Tania saw a problem.
Murtagh was out cold.
Yay, it's edited… and not nearly as terrible.
Review!
Fate.