"Bloodstained"
by Hailie Jade S
Chapter Three – Into Helgrind and Shruikan Speaks
A/Ns: Here's chapter three, everyone! Many thanks to my so-far reviewers, especially the new ones. I owe ya, T.B.C.J., Zenna, Tallacus, nejsaku12345, blizzardstar2000, siwenliu, and meh!
Shorter chapter this time, but a necessary kind of filler... Bit of a cliffhanger ending for both Eragon and Murtagh, but hey, now you'll just have to wait and read chapter four!
"Are you ready?" Galbatorix purred to Murtagh and Thorn. Behind him, Shruikan stood, staring unblinkingly down at them, as always. They had never heard him speak. Presumably, he and Galbatorix communicated, but no one else ever heard.
Murtagh nodded, swallowing hard, while Thorn said meekly, Yes, Master.
"Good," the king of Alagaësia said smoothly. "Remember," he said, "you will bring them here. You will not come back empty-handed again."
"We won't," Murtagh assured him, putting every effort into controlling his voice and not squeak out the words.
"Then go prepare leave," Galbatorix said. "And remember, should you fail me again… do not plan on a happy return."
Eragon slid off of Saphira, then helped down her other passengers. His heart was pounding, but he kept his face carefully blank. He'd taken on Murtagh and… well, he hadn't lost, really. (Maybe). The Ra'zaac shouldn't prove much of a threat now, in his heightened state. Not only was he more advanced in his magic skills, but he knew about them now, knew their weaknesses. He quickly reviewed them in his mind as he turned to look into the gloom of Helgrind.
I'll be right out here, Saphira said firmly to Eragon. If you get in trouble, I'll knock all of Helgrind down to get to you.
Thanks, Eragon said, comforted despite the outrageousness of her suggestion.
Good luck.
"Keep your mind open," Arya reminded Eragon in a whisper. "No one must sneak up on us."
The three of them stepped forward into the dark. Eragon murmured a few choice words in the Ancient Language, and a small ball of light appeared before them, bobbing ahead of the trio to light their way down the passage.
Eragon's every sense was tingling, and he kept alert for any signs of a conscious mind in Helgrind. He felt several bats and other creatures, like spiders, but tuned them out.
"Where's Katrina?" Roran asked, instinctively lowering his voice.
"I don't know yet," Eragon whispered back. The little ball of light flickered and bobbed ahead of them, illuminating smooth dark walls that were glistening. The Ra'zac didn't like water, Eragon remembered, so why were the walls looking wet?
He decided he didn't want to know.
Finally, he felt a spark of thought. He immediately grabbed at it. The mind shrank away from him, afraid, putting up a weak barrier.
Don't worry, Eragon assured the person, gently shoving aside their defenses. I'm here to help you.
The consciousness disappeared. Eragon sighed impatiently. The person had fainted. "There's someone this way," he told Roran and Arya. "I don't know if it's Katrina or not. They passed out, whoever they are."
Roran lurched forward. He slid and finally collapsed into a heap, moaning. Eragon hurrried to his cousin-brother's side. He muttered the healing words, then helped the shaky Roran to his feet.
"I guess this is a reminder that we have to watch our step around the Ra'zac," Eragon said ruefully as Roran brushed himself off, blushing furiously.
The elf, semi-elf, and human set off again, this time careful to watch their step as they made their way to the consciousness that Eragon had sensed.
There were more pinpricks of thought now, most of them weary, frightened, hungry, sad, or otherwise depressed. But then, who could be happy in the belly of the Ra'zacs' home?
When they came to a fork in the passageway, Eragon confidently said, "This way." They set off again.
Eragon poured all his concentration into the pinpoints of the minds of the prisoners of the Ra'zac. They pulled at his consciousness, tugging him toward them. He felt his steps quicken to a jog, ignoring Arya and Roran's puzzlement.
Finally, they rounded a corner to find a row of cells, each with a dark shape inside. It wasn't well-lit enough to make anything else out, though, and Eragon put enough energy into his ball of light to illuminate the room more.
"Where's Katrina?" Roran hissed. Then, he threw caution to the wind, and lurched forward, rasping, "Katrina?"
Suddenly, a loud thud echoed behind the three rescuers. They spun around to see two enormous black beasts, looming over them, staring at them with eyeless faces.
The Lethrblaka, parents of the Ra'zac!
Eragon's mind raced. He recalled Oromis's words with frightening clarity:
"On the first full moon of their twentity year, they shed their exoskeletons, spread their wings, and emerge as adults ready to hunt all creatures…"
The Lethrblaka! The Ra'zac were pained by bright light and feared deep water, but did the Lethrblaka? Not to mention that they must be infinitely stronger than their children, the Ra'zac.
Eragon was faced with man-eating monsters that he had no idea how to kill.
Thorn growled angrily. He dug his talons into the soft material coating the roof of Galbatorix's home. Shruikan was again stretched out a little bit away, but Thorn's attention wasn't on the massive black dragon.
Murtagh! he yelled, shoving at the mental barrier blocking his Rider's mind from his. Let me in!
Morzan's son didn't obey; instead, he strengthened his defenses. What was he thinking that he couldn't share with his own dragon? They would be leaving to try to intercept Eragon and Saphira soon. This was a time for them to be together, to share any fear or excitement they might have, not to cut each other off. Murtagh hated it so much when Galbatorix detatched himself and Thorn – why, then, was he doing it voluntarily?
Thorn roared in frustration, flinging his blood-colored wings wide and opening his jaws as far as they would go. It wasn't right that Murtagh should want to block him out!
Why do you yell, young Thorn?
Thorn spun around, whipping his head about so quickly that his neck hurt. Who said that? … Shruikan?
Indeed, the ancient dragon had lifted his ebony black head, his bottomless eyes open and staring at Thorn unblinkingly. The voice that had penetrated Thorn's mind was old, so old and tired, wary from past pain, and utterly hopeless. The voice made Thorn ache inside. In comparison to Thorn's own youth, vitality, and volatile emotions, Shruikan felt like an old lady.
I… I… Thorn trailed off. Murtagh won't let me in, he finally said.
Shruikan regarded him with cold eyes.
He… Don't you understand me?
Shruikan seemed unmoved by the information he'd gotten. Thorn couldn't understand. To be blocked out by your Rider was an appalling, emptying feeling, like you were trying to fly with only one wing. Yet Shruikan acted as though Thorn had merely told him that the sun had risen in the morning.
But then… Galbatorix wasn't really Shruikan's Rider. He was his master, who had twisted the dragon into his power by magical means. But surely Shruikan still realized how horrible…?
No. No, he didn't.
He didn't understand in the slightest, and that made Thorn scared. It made him very, very scared.
Finally, Murtagh's barriers dropped. Thorn burst into his Rider's mind, relieved. He considered searching for whatever had just happening in Murtagh's memories, but decided against it.
Don't do that! he snapped, spreading his wings to lift off of the roof, spiraling down to where he knew his friend to be, in the Gardens. I hate it when you shut me out!
Sorry, Murtagh said. His mind was still on other things, but Thorn was just glad to have him back.
The red dragon fanned his wings, extending his mighty talons to land delicately before Murtagh. When he was settled, his Rider approached him, reaching up to stroke the soft nose of his partner.
Thorn nuzzled Murtagh. Are you okay?
Better than I was was the reply.
Oh! I forgot. Shruikan talked to me.
Really? Murtagh's interest was sparked. What did he say?
Well… I was a bit upset because you wouldn't let me in, and he asked me why I was yelling. Then I tried to explain, and he just looked at me. He didn't understand at all! He doesn't love Galbatorix. He doesn't love his Rider. It's scary, Murtagh. How can he not? I would never not love you.
Murtagh sighed heavily, hugging his dragon's head awkwardly. I dunno, Thorn.
It's kind of scary, Thorn said, understating it. To him, a bonded dragon, the thought of being indifferent about your Rider's mind was horrific. A dragon indifferent to his Rider meant no love, no strong bond, no assurance of an equal partnership, no sure help when you were in trouble. Shruikan scared him, really he did.
I feel so bad for him, Murtagh said softly.
What? It hadn't occurred to Thorn to pity the other dragon.
I said I feel bad for him. He didn't choose Galbatorix. There must have been someone else in Alagaësia, someone he was meant to hatch for. He must miss that person terribly – even if he never met them. Imagine if you couldn't hatch for me
Thorn tried to ponder it, but had to shiver violently and push the thought away. It was repugnant. You're my Rider. It is how it is and that is not going to change!
No way, Murtagh agreed, squeezing tighter.
Just then, both of their minds were assaulted. They recoiled as one, throwing up frantic defenses, before realizing that it was Galbatorix.
You leave now, the king told them coldly. Go to where they were seen – you know where it is – and bring them back. Remember the consequences if you should fail.
Yes, sire, dragon and Rider replied simultaneously. Murtagh's fist clenched around Zar'roc so tightly that Thorn could see his knuckles turn white.
It was time to go confront the enemy.
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