Neglected Disclaimer: Alrighty, I seemed to have forgotten my disclaimer. Just so Mr. P doesn't get mad and try to sue me, I don't own any of his characters/people/ideas, no matter how brilliant or outstanding. So basically everything that was in the books is not mine, I don't own, leave me alone!

Anyways, thanks reviewers!

Twelve

Into Hell's Ground

Murtagh glanced behind him. The Ra'zac had already vanished into the countryside, and the ones who rode on their flying mounds had disappeared somewhere in the misty clouds. It's a good thing we left when we did. They would have hid to the shadows and plotted an ambush.

There may already be an ambush waiting for us, Thorn said. An evil hiss came from behind. A group of Ra'zac appeared out of the clouds, the lethrblaka tailing in Thorn's wake, weapons brandished. Told you.

Murtagh growled. Nasuada pulled out her bow, but Murtagh stopped her. "Don't waste your arrows just yet." He waved a hand at the lethrblaka saying, "Thrysta vindr." A giant ball of powerful air shot from his palm, slamming into the lethrblaka. They gave a horrible shriek, spiraling out of control.

Nasuada gave him a curious glance. "Interesting," she said.

Another group of lethrblaka pulled out in front of them, but instead of attacking Thorn, they dove towards Saphira. They surrounded Saphira, making it difficult for her to maneuver their harsh blows. Hold on, Thorn advised. Folding his leather red wings around his chest, he plummeted towards the Ra'zac, and then plowed through them, spewing a violent flow of flames. Again, the Ra'zac gave another series of hideous screeches, their black bodies devoured by ravenous inferno.

Did you miss me? Thorn asked, kicking at a lethrblaka who had snuck up beneath his belly.

Hardly, Saphira replied.

Hardly is better than not at all, Thorn told her.

Precisely.

Another swarm of lethrblaka surfaced out of the clouds. "Eragon," Nasuada shouted over the wind, notching an arrow to her bow. "I want you to land and find the entrance. We'll keep them distracted for you so hurry!"

Eragon glanced behind them and cursed at the stream of lethrblaka trailing in their wake like a blur of livid wasps. "Don't get yourselves killed," he shouted back before parting paths.

Thorn pulled up away from Helgrind, leading the Ra'zac towards Dras-Leona. He led them in wide ally loops, spiraling up and down, rapidly evading their attacks with his erratic dance. It went on this way for minuets, long, painstakingly slow minuets.

Hurry it up, Eragon! Murtagh shouted his mind, furious. As tough as Thorn was, Murtagh knew that not even he could not out-fly so many. The Ra'zac and their nightmare mounts were gaining on them with every passing second. It was all Murtagh could do to keep them at bay using magic, but every time he set a cluster of Ra'zac on fire or spiraling out of control, a dozen more would take their place. Nasuada helped too, whenever she could, by picking them off one by one with her deadly arrows.

We can't find the door or lever! Eragon replied at last.

You idiot! He flung his hand at the Ra'zac who were gaining speed and sent them spiraling out of control as he had done before. Yet still, many more remained. If we die because your eyes are made of stone—

Found it!

"They found the door," Murtagh said.

About time, Thorn grumbled. Is it open?

Murtagh relayed the question. After a brief moment, Eragon said, It is now.

Thorn suddenly swerved to the left, veering off towards the mountain. When Saphira, Eragon, and Roran could be seen as two specks and one big blue dot standing at the entrance—a large arching black hole in the mountain's shoulder—Thorn pulled up sharply. Brace yourself, he warned. Murtagh sheathed his sword at once and wrapped his arms firmly around Nasuada. "Lean forward," he told her.

"Why—"

Without warning, Thorn twisted sharply, folding his wings at his sides and dive-bombed head long towards the threshold, gaining speed rapidly, twisting and curling in corkscrew motions. Murtagh laughed freely, feeling the exhilaration of plummeting towards the earth at such incredible speed. As always, it left his heart racing with an unexpected thrill.

Thorn carefully angled himself into a forty-five degree angle. Only when he was ten feet off the soil, did he unfurl his wings, the tip of his left wing skimming gently across the soft soil. Get out of the way, Thorn roared, bolting steadfast towards the entrance, his speed unyielding. Both Murtagh and Nasuada had to duck to avoid smashing their skulls against the stone. Darkness engulfed them as Thorn skidded to a stop. Murtagh was almost out of the saddle before Thorn touched the ground.

Sword drawn, Murtagh rushed to the doorway. He waited until Eragon and Saphira were inside with Roran in tow before commanding in the ancient language, "Bar the thresholds!" There was a flash of red as the black stream of lethrblaka smashed against the barriers with obstinate force. The next thing Murtagh knew, he was lying on the ground, ears ringing.

"Are you alright?" Nasuada asked, helping him up. The red blaze left an eerie red glow against her earthy skin.

Murtagh shrugged, eyeing the dozens of lethrblaka that lay scattered barrier's outside, their bodies broken and smashed from the impact. "I'm alive."

"I suppose that's one way to kill dozens of lethrblaka," Eragon said reflectively. Then he went to Saphira's saddle and dug out two woolen scarves, like the ones he and Roran were wearing, and handed them to Nasuada. "To cover your mouth and nose with," he explained, "so the Ra'zac's breath won't effect you as much."

Nasuada accepted them with a thoughtful expression. Then she turned to Murtagh. "An excellent idea," she said with a warm smile, placing one of the scarves around his neck. "Wouldn't you agree, Murtagh?"

"A fine strategy," Murtagh agreed, the edges of lips quirking slightly. He was about to add something else, when he was suddenly aware of Roran and Eragon's presence. He cleared his throat instead. "We should be going."

"Of course," Nasauda said. "I'll get the lanterns."

Roran shook his head, shifting his gaze further into the darkness.

"What?" Murtagh hissed at Eragon's lingering stare.

Eragon smiled slightly and shrugged. "I didn't say anything."

Thorn opened his mouth, flahsing a rows of ivory fangs, and laughed a hoarse, rumbling sound. You're just mad because you got caught flirting with Nasuada in public.

I wasn't flirting, Murtagh said, scowling at his own humiliation. I didn't get the chance to.

Oh, the wonders of an adrenaline rush!

It's not funny, Thorn.

No, it is very delightful. You just have a bad sense of humor.

"Murtagh," Nasuada called from ahead as they started to leave without him. "Are you coming?"

Muttering under his breath, Murtagh started after her. He shot Thorn a narrow glance, whose glowing ochre eyes burned in the darkness, tarried with a hint of amusement. It's not funny, Murtagh said.

Thorn hummed. Focus, Murtagh. We're inside Helgrind now.

They traveled through an endless void of darkness to which there seemed to be no end. The air grew colder the further they ventured into Helgrind's wide, arching tunnels. The darkness grew thicker, heavy with a deafening silence. Everyone was on the tip of their toes, expecting the Ra'zac to jump out of the shadows at any moment. Yet, an ambush never came.

They'll come, Murtagh thought, gripping his sword tightly with icy hands. They'll come when we least expect it.

Eragon, who was in the lead, came to a sudden stop as the tunnel finally ended, splitting into two stairwells. One wound up to the higher reaches of Helgrind, and the other deep into a hellishabyss.Murtagh felt the air stir with a hollow moan, the stench of evil brushing against his face. He cringened and instantly knew that Gonoszság Skämd lay somewhere down there where light dared not shine, amongst the nightmares of humankind.

"Now what?" Eragon said. "Should we split up?"

"We'll cover more ground that way," Nasuada said.

"You three go up," Murtagh said, not taking his eyes off the stairwell. "Thorn and I will go down. We'll meet at the peak."

"You're going alone?" Eragon asked. "Is that wise?"

Murtagh gestured to the stairwell. "That fiend Orik spoke of is somewhere down there. I intend to kill it. This is my ordeal, and I would like to take care of it alone."

To his surprise, Nasuada said quietly, "If that's what you want, then I won't stop you."

"It is."

Eragon bit his lip. "Kill it yourself, if you want," he said. "But at least tell us when you find it. Just in case."

"Fine by me."

Roran and Eragon wished him luck before departing. Only Nasauda remained, lingering in the shadows. Murtagh could hardly see her in the lantern's dim, flickering yellow light. "We'll meet you at the top," Murtagh said, turning to leave.

Nasuada caught him on the sleeve. "Murtagh," she said softly, laying a slender hand on his cheek. Her hand was incredibly cold. She unexpectedly reached up and kissed him lightly; a tender caress of the lips. She parted with a smile and murmured, "Don't die."

Then she was gone, vanished amongst a cloud of hungry darkness.

A/N: Okay, this was the last thing I expected to end this fic with. Oh well. Some of reviewers asked for it, so I guess I kind of complied. Anyways, Helgrind is almost done with. Yay!

Thanks for the reviews!