A/N: Sorry it took so long, but between moving, finals week, and our spring musical, I didn't have time to write… I plan on updating much more often in the future. So, here it is:
Instead, she fought against her instincts to look the creature in the eyes and say something intelligent back to it. It turned into a blink when she found that her mind had gone almost numb. What's wrong with me? The query went unanswered, but the foul Ra'zac smiled cruelly.
"I can smell your fear," he hissed. Katrina wasn't how the beast managed speech with its awkward beak, but didn't doubt that it could indeed tell that she was afraid. She didn't reply. "We are not to kill you, but that won't keep us from roughing you up a bit," he—she—it—continued, tilting its head to one side, considering something gruesome, no doubt. Katrina felt a shudder travel down the length of her spine involuntarily, but remained silent. Her mental faculties weren't functioning coherently, but she had a vague sense that talking would only cause her further trouble.
Turning suddenly, the Ra'zac drew a thin blade from the hilt on its belt, and whipped it through the air quicker than the eye could follow, stopping to rest on Sloan's neck. Despite her loathing for her father at the moment, Katrina drew in a sharp breath. He was her father, after all. Her captor held the blade steady as Sloan opened his eyes groggily. He blinked lazily, then stiffened as he recognized the creature before him.
"Now look—"
The Ra'zac made another lightening-fast pass, and before he could finish a sentence, blood began dribbling down his greasy forehead and cheeks. The deadly weapon was now drawing a light but slow and long scratch across his throat. Sloan froze.
"While you obey us, you shall come to little harm," it murmured in that awful, oily voice. "Disobey, and you shall earn more than a few scars." The blade bit a bit deeper, then retreated.
The Ra'zac began to leave, but the one who'd stayed near the door behind them paused for a moment to say, "Food will be sent shortly." As its shadow slid away into darkness, silence reigned.
At last, Sloan broke it by saying: "I didn't know this would happen."
Katrina didn't move from her position.
"I'm sorry," he said after a few seconds pause. Katrina huffed in response. "Listen to me when I tell you that I only wanted your safety when I agreed to let them take us from Carvahall. I didn't ever want for you to come to harm. That Roran—"
"Roran loved me," Katrina spat angrily. She twisted to get a better view of her father, wincing at her soreness. "That's something you never could get your head around, could you?"
Sloan's face darkened with anger. "He was a poor farm boy without a cent to his name and a head full of bad notions. I won't have you throwing away your life on the likes of him!"
Katrina bit her lip in frustration. If he could see Roran the way I do, we would see eye to eye, I'm sure. She instead decided to let her father go unchallenged until she had something concrete to combat him with. Until then, all she could do was wait.
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Eragon was tired. He'd spent the past few days pouring over scrolls about the Ra'zac and Helgrind, trying to gather as much information on his foes as he could before he and Roran attempted to rescue Katrina from her kidnappers. Though he'd come up with some interesting folklore about Helgrind, the Ra'zac themselves remained much a mystery. Most people didn't interact with the race, and those who did seldom told about their experiences.
On top of studying, he'd also been pouring much of his energy into Nasuada's lace-making business. After Murtagh stole Zar'roc and the belt, he'd found himself without an extra source of power or a weapon. With everyone in Surda struggling to survive, he refused to put more stress on their treasuries by accepting charity—he was going to buy his own things, now. While both Nasuada and King Orrin had protested that he needn't go to such lengths, Eragon couldn't help but wonder where the gold would come from to fuel such expenses. Saphira easily drained two barrels of mead after the battle was over, he had to have food, and they both had armor that needed to be taken care of—it saddened his heart that Garrow's nephew would accept so much and do so little in return.
You might want to come to the courtyard, Saphira said, interrupting the silence he'd grown to love after the hue and cry of the battles.
Thank you, he whispered back. What's going on?
You'll see, she answered coyly. Eragon smiled. This was bound to be interesting.
When he arrived, he discovered that the courtyard was in complete disarray. Benches were overthrown, flowerbeds torn up, and an arm on a statue of an ancient scholar turned up missing. Servants flocked in the center, atwitter with gossip, and Saphira was crouched in the shade of a massive tree with and expression of curiosity on her features.
What happened here? Eragon asked.
Elva, Saphira responded simply. I'm not sure what possessed her, but she suddenly started ripping everything to shreds, and generally wreaking havoc. She's underneath my wings, if you want to talk to her.
Disbelievingly, Eragon strode over as Saphira lifted one massive wing. Elva was digging into a platter of venison with gusto, but stopped politely to stare at the Rider's approach.
"What is this all about?" Eragon queried.
"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out," she sneered back at him. "As a Rider, you're supposed to be off saving the weak, right now. But, because you're also smart, you know better than to dash off right after doing battle without the least bit of knowledge about what you're facing. You're doing the right thing, putting off the rescue mission."
Eragon sighed. "You're avoiding the question."
"I suppose I should tell you," She voiced noncommittally. "You see, there's going to be a fire set in your room, and it will consume most of the wing in about four minutes, now. I just got everyone out safely, so no one will get hurt."
And she considers that a good reason to destroy the courtyard?! Eragon vented to Saphira. Out loud, he exclaimed, "What good will that accomplish?"
"That was good of you to keep your temper. I appreciate it," Elva mocked. "It would be better if the courtyard were in tatters when it burns, however, so that when the arsonists try to escape on the Lethrblaka that will be landing here shortly, they won't be able to institute the getaway plan they've concocted."
"There are adult Ra'zac coming to Surda, and you didn't tell us?!" yelled Eragon. What came over her?
"This way, we'll be able to lure them into the trap we've set," Elva explained calmly. She couldn't resist the meat in front of her any longer, and attacked the food once more. In between bites, she expanded on it, saying, "There are archers concealed in the new nooks and crannies I've created with my, well, destruction. You might recognize the servants milling around as soldiers who fought along side you a few days ago, and members of Du Vangr Gata are stationed in the towers not connected to the wing you were in. A few guardsmen are ready to take care of the arsonists, and Trianna has cooked up an illusion that the palace is burning. Everything is under control."
"And why wasn't I clued into all of these plans?" Eragon demanded.
Peace, Saphira intervened. I was the one who decided to keep you in the dark. You needed rest, and telling you what was going to happen would only add to your stress.
And you don't think that the Lethrblaka will be deterred by a giant blue lizard sitting where they're planning to land? he asked sarcastically.
I'm not visible from the sky, she replied. The Lethrblaka have poor daytime vision, from what you've found in your reading, so they won't even notice me until I'm upon them.
Eragon had to admit that it appeared as though they had everything worked out to a tee. But, still sore over not being clued in, he opened his mouth to speak to Elva again when flames began rising from the palace wall.
He instinctively swung up so that he was on top of Saphira's back, and reached out with his mind to his surroundings. The fire was phantasmal, and he saw Trianna concentrating on an image in her mind, tucked safely away in a tower. All of the archers had arrows knocked, but their bows were resting against a knee or thigh, having no target yet.
The flames grew higher, and he could feel heat coming from the illusion—it was quite impressive. Eragon reached further into the palace and found the arsonists bound in a neat pile circled by a dozen or so palace guards, not sure of what was going on outside.
A sudden cry brought bows up, sighting the two black shapes descending rapidly from the heavens. Also, men tied clothes over their mouths, though Eragon couldn't figure out why. He asked Saphira.
The Ra'zac and Lethrblaka have breath that fogs over the mind, remember?" she supplied.
Of course, thank you," Eragon replied. He quietly murmured in the ancient language, "Let the air that I breathe be clean and pure," then turned his attention to the two creatures only a few yards off the ground.
An unspoken signal brought forth a volley of arrows, and the Lethrblaka screeched their displeasure. They attempted to take to the air once more, but a magical barrier appeared over the courtyard. Amazed, Eragon looked to the members of Du Vangr Gata, and saw that they were behind this maneuver, Trianna included. There was no need for the fire as bait, so it had been discarded. Eragon replenished her strength with some of what he had left, then did the same for some of the others who were fading, then asked Saphira what they should be doing.
Waiting is all we can do right now, she said. After the Lethrblaka are thoroughly confused and battered by the archers, we can have at them with magic and fire. She was still proud of her ability, and enjoyed using it whenever possible.
Eragon nodded and settled into the hollow in Saphira's back, watching the Varden's men beat the Lethrblaka back. The creatures, now aware that they were under attack, were making valiant attacks back at the swordsman that had come to hack at their legs. This has to be stopped, Eragon thought to Saphira. He reached past the mental barrier on his magic and prepared to blind the Lethrblaka, but Saphira stopped him.
No, she warned. You're too weak, and blinding them will take a fair amount of energy. They don't see well anyway, so it would be a useless gesture. She had a point, so Eragon relented, though the men were getting battered in their efforts.
The battle began to turn as the arrows were spent and the swordsmen grew fatigued, and Eragon noticed that Du Vangr Gata, who had let the barrier keeping the enemy in fall to protect everyone from injury, had now redoubled the strength poured into the magical barrier. This had to be their cue.
Saphira arched her neck and let out a steady stream of fire directed at the Lethrblaka's heads, giving the men time to retreat. Eragon thrust his own strength into the barrier at the instant the two snapped their wings open to carry them into the air and escape. The impact stunned Eragon momentarily, but he didn't let the flow of magic stop. Saphira leapt from her hiding spot to get a better angle on the beasts, jolting Eragon for a minute, but held fast. The archers, equipped with more arrows, fired away at the exposed wings, piercing them like they were made of mere tissue rather than powerful muscle. The Lethrblaka dropped to the ground, almost on top of Saphira, and began their onslaught. They circled her, keeping on opposite sides so that she could only see one at a time. She directed the fire at the one in front of her, but kept her mind focused on the one in back so that she wouldn't be surprised by an assault. Worried, Eragon broke the link to the barrier and twisted to keep an eye on the second Lethrblaka. He tried to pry into the thing's mind, but its mental armor proved to be well fortified. He continued prodding it, murmuring "Lightning," in the Ancient Language under his breath. A ball of lightning sprung into being, and hurled itself at the creature. It dodged the missile deftly, but the moment's distraction allowed Eragon entrance to its mind. He selected one of the killing words, and it dropped.
He turned back to face the remaining Lethrblaka, and found that it was raked with claw marks. Saphira had been lashing out at it this entire time, and he hadn't realized it! Hot blood oozed from wounds of her own, however, and the sight gave Eragon the adrenaline rush to repeat the lightning stunt with this one. The Lethrblaka was prepared for this, though, and didn't let its mental barrier waver for a second. Eragon berated himself for forgetting that the Lethrblaka were as intelligent as dragons, and continued looking for ways to demolish his foe. Suddenly, the beast reared up and launched itself over Saphira to land on her other side. She was ungainly on the ground, and it took her a second to maneuver into a better position, but it was enough time to let the Lethrblaka slash a large rent in her hide. Saphira let out a roar and stamped a foot on the ground. Tremors tore up the ground where her foot hit, and traveled to the Lethrblaka. It appeared to unnerve it, and Eragon slipped into its mind to kill it. The Lethrblaka fell to the ground, dead.
Eragon tumbled from Saphira's back to gaze upon the damage they'd caused. The Lethrblaka he'd slain first had a larger body than the second, and its oddly proportioned forelegs stuck out at weird angles on the ground. The second sported bad burns all over its body.
You fought wonderfully, Eragon said, praising Saphira.
You, also, she replied, swinging her massive head around to look her Rider in the eyes. We must keep in mind what transpired today when we go to Helgrind.
You had to bring that up, didn't you?
I couldn't let you get too pleased with yourself.