AN: This is the last chapter of "Taize." I know, I know! Don't kill me! First, this is the longest chapter I have ever written. Second, her story is not over yet! I PROMISE I will write a sequel. I just feel like the end of this chapter starts a new part of Taize's life. The sequel will probably be called "C'koro," but if you want to be sure you know when it's out, put me on your author alert.

Disclaimer: Damn. I'm running out of creative ways to say that I don't own Inheritance and/or Christopher Paolini. Oh, wait. I just did.

Chapter Fifteen
Hatchling

It was very dark out by the time they were near Petrøvya, but Nezjy promised that the Varden knew they were coming. Taize was curious as to how Nezjy could be communicating with them, but Nezjy refused to tell her.

"You're sure they won't follow us once we get to Petrøvya?" Taize asked, a little nervously.

"I hope not," replied Nezjy cheerfully.

"So in other words, unless we get really, really lucky, we're screwed."

"Pretty much."

"Well, you don't seem too sad about it."

"We've done all we can so far to get that egg to safety. If we're caught now, at least we know that there's nothing we could have done differently that would have led to any other outcome."

Taize mulled that over as she rowed. It would be kind of nice to have that attitude, to be able to not analyze the situation to death, looking for a way that things could have gone better. Of course, it would also have been nice if she had never taken the stupid egg in the first place. In Taize's opinion, it was more trouble than it was worth. But she also had a feeling that the voice wouldn't have helped her get away if she hadn't agreed to steal the egg in the first place.

Lost in her thoughts, she was shaken back to reality when Nezjy hissed in her ear, "We're almost there, and the soldiers are right behind us. When we reach the dock, speed is of the essence. Have your things ready – and grab some food, too. The gods know we'll probably end up needing it."

They spent a very tense fifteen minutes nearing the lights of Petrøvya. Finally, as the boat hit the dock with a soft thud, they climbed onto dry land.

"Let's go," Nezjy whispered. "I know a good place for us to hide." She led the way through the mazelike streets to a small and dingy tavern called the Silver Dragon. It was dark on the main floor, apparently closed for the night already, but there was a light above.

Nezjy knocked on the door firmly three times. After a minute or so, two taps came from the other side. Nezjy knocked once more to complete the code, and the door opened. A lean but strong-looking blond man stood in the doorframe. He ushered them inside quickly.

"You two should get down to the cellar. The soldiers could barge in here any minute now. You know the signal if they come inside."

"Come on, let's go," said Nezjy to Taize. She led the way to the cellar, which was dark but for the lantern. Taize had the feeling that the place hadn't seen light since the day it was built.

Suddenly, there were two almost inaudible taps on the door to the stairs. Nezjy looked pale. "Be very quiet," she whispered, so softly that Taize barely heard. She led the way to the middle of the cellar. She traced her finger around some invisible seam, then pulled up a hidden trapdoor.

Taize balked at going into the black hole before her. The lantern didn't penetrate the inky darkness that faced her, and it reminded her all too much of the tunnel in her old village. "Come on," Nezjy whispered insistently. "It's not just your life on the line if we get caught." Taize was still unwilling, but she reluctantly climbed down into the blackness anyway.

Nezjy shuttered the lantern all the way, and the blackness was complete. They waited there for what seemed like forever, until the man from upstairs opened the hidden trapdoor. "You can come up now, they're gone," he said.

Nezjy and Taize both breathed audible sighs of relief, albeit for different reasons. Nezjy was glad that the soldiers were gone, but Taize was just happy to be out of the crushing blackness. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart.

"Come on," said Nezjy. "Let's go and get some sleep."

They climbed up to the second floor, where Nezjy opened the door to a small room. Taize noticed that there was only one bed. "You take it," she said to Nezjy, gesturing. "Besides, I'm not used to being comfortable when I'm sleeping." She gave Nezjy a smile that was more grimace than grin, but Nezjy didn't argue; she was too tired. She fell asleep almost at once, but Taize had trouble finding rest.

In addition to the fact that she had only recently woken up from two days' worth of sleep, the room reminded her rather unpleasantly of the inn in Furnost. She needed to get out of there.

She grabbed the bag the egg rested in, not trusting anyone but herself with it. Taize knew that it was a foolish thought, but she had been through a lot with that egg. It was almost like a child to her. Not that she ever wanted a child.

She slipped out of the room very quietly, something she was well-practiced at. She stole downstairs, staying silent because she didn't know where the man who had greeted them slept. Every time a stair squeaked, she winced at the sound, hoping it wouldn't wake up Nezjy. In reality, the squeaking wasn't that loud, but to Taize the sound was earsplitting.

Eventually she made it outside to the relative safety of the street. She breathed in deeply, enjoying the clean scent of the night air. For the first time since her escape, she felt truly free. The egg at her side had forced her to keep running. If she didn't have it with her, she probably could have stayed in Alagaësia, maybe even in Urû'baen. She doubted the king would have cared too much if one lousy slave had managed to get away. Then again… Damned egg, she thought, but the thought wasn't completely devoid of affection. Despite herself, she had grown remarkably fond of the thing. It always seemed to comfort her when she needed it most.

The street she was on was silent, empty. It was also more than a little chilly, and she still didn't have shoes or a cloak. She was cold, but she didn't want to go back inside, so she wandered the streets, never going too far away from the Silver Dragon and always being sure that she knew the way back.

Taize was thinking that she would head back when she saw a building up ahead whose lights were blazing brightly. Curious, she approached it, trying to see what was going on inside. A sign hung over the doorway proclaimed that the place was called the Sheep's Tongue.

What the hell kind of crazy name is that? she wondered. The Sheep's Tongue I mean, okay, the Silver Dragon is actually kind of a cool name, but the Sheep's Tongue

Either way, she decided to get moving again. The place was obviously a tavern, and if it was open this late, everyone inside was bound to be drunk. She did not want an encounter with a drunken man. Eszpecially since her hair was long enough by now that she looked like a girl again (albeit a girl wearing pants). Ugh. She didn't even want to think about the last time she'd been in the proximity of this many drunkards.

She was about twelve years old, on kitchen duty yet again. Then again, almost all of the slaves had been busy in the kitchens for the past several days. There was to be a huge feast that day, and nearly every noble in Alagaësia must have been invited.

"Taize!" someone yelled. "Get over here!" It was one of the older slaves, she'd never bothered to learn his name (an act of hypocrisy that she'd later want to kick herself for). "Here, take this to the banquet hall," he said loudly over the din of voices, passing her an enormous tray of food.

"Oh, come on! That thing must be almost as heavy as me!"

"So? Get moving. It's your ass on the line if you don't bring it in. You know Kin'naid will find out somehow."

"Fine, fine. I'm going!" She heaved the tray onto her shoulder and carried it out of the kitchen and through the maze of narrow servants' passageways to the banquet hall. It was a cavernous room, lit by several chandeliers and many torches. Taize didn't care about the huge room, though. She wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible. She felt out of place among the richly dressed nobles, and besides, she had heard the horror stories about them, even when they were sober, from the other female slaves. It was best just to avoid the men altogether when it was possible.

She made her way to one of the long tables and dropped off her load, then turned to leave. She figured that she would take the main hallways, since it was a much faster route back to the kitchen. All the people who might spot her and tell Kin'naid were probably at the feast, anyway. But as she started off down the hallway, she saw someone coming towards her, weaving slightly. Drunk.

Taize turned around abruptly. He was probably just going back to the feast. Apparently, he wasn't, though, she noted as she looked behind her. He had just passed the entrance to the banquet hall. Well, he's drunk, she thought. Maybe he walked right past it because he doesn't remember where it is. But as she turned into the servants' passageway again, and he followed her, she began to grow increasingly nervous.

She kept turning into other hallways, trying to lose her pursuer. She had non idea where she was, but she figured she would worry about that later. Then she came to a dead end. She doubled back, but the man had already started coming down the hallway she was in. He had a stupid grin plastered across his face. "Hello, there," he said, still grinning…

No! Damn it! She was not going to relive that night again. She had talked it to death with Fel four years ago. (AN: Tell you who Fel is later. And yeah, that's the reason she always dresses like a guy.) Even though she tried to stop it, images flashed through her mind. She shuddered involuntarily, then turned and walked away from the tavern. Damned nobles. She'd be having nightmares tonight.

But when she got back to the Silver Dragon, the door was locked. Shit. What the hell am I supposed to do now? If Nezjy found out that she had left – with the egg, no less – she'd kill her. Quite possibly literally.

Taize set off again, not caring where she went this time, trying to figure out what to do. Unconsciously, she wandered far away from the inn, closer to the edge of the lake. It was only when she heard the conversations of the soldiers waiting there that she realized how close they were. She stiffened and began to back away slowly.

Unfortunately, she backed up right into one of the sentries. They gave each other a deer-in-the-headlights look until a spark of recognition lit up in the man's eye. Taize turned and ran, but the soldier was faster than she was, and he grabbed her. She struggled furiously, but his grip was too strong.

Shit, she thought. Shit shit shit! How could I possibly be that stupid? I should have just knocked on the door and hoped Nezjy wouldn't kill me. Damn it!

The soldier half-dragged her to a boat waiting on the edge of the lake. She realized that the rest of them hadn't been as close as she'd thought, she'd just heard their voices traveling over the water.

She turned her thoughts to escape. At the moment, it seemed impossible. The soldier's grip was too tight, and even if she could manage to get away from him, she couldn't swim. There had never been an opportunity. Before she was a slave, she'd lived in the desert, and after…well, Galbatorix wasn't exactly going to give them all a day off to go swimming.

They met up with a larger vessel after about five minutes, and she was put on board it. A woman came up to her, looking oddly out of place among all the men. "Slytha," she said.

Taize didn't even have time to register her pride at the fact that Galbatorix had thought she was enough of an escape risk to send a mage after her.

When she finally awoke – for she sensed that she'd been sleeping for quite awhile – she had absolutely no idea where she was. It appeared to be a cell of some sort. The walls were tick, solid stone; there wasn't even a window to break up the monotony. The only light came from the flickering torch in the hallway outside the door.

She was suddenly angry with herself again for letting this happen. There was no way she'd be able to escape from wherever she was now. In a fit of frustration, she punched the wall. Hard. She hissed in pain as she felt something crack. Okay, she thought. OW.

As she was thinking about what to do with her broken arm, a voice came from behind her. "That was stupid." She turned to see a twenty-something man standing outside her door. He wore his dark brown hair long, and he was rather good-looking. Not that Taize cared. His feature that grabbed her attention was the look in his eyes – as though he had seen too much suffering. It was a look she'd seen in many of the other slaves' eyes back at the palace. Except for Rhet. He could be sad sometimes, but most of the time he had been annoyingly cheerful.

"You'll be needing both arms where we're going."

"We?" she asked. Her empathy with him was overshadowed by the fact that he was dressed like a noble.

He opened the cell door, came inside, and shut it behind him. Taize recoiled only very slightly when he stepped inside, but apparently he had noticed, because he spoke again. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Afraid of me?" She thought she detected a hint of a smirk on his face.

"You obviously work for Galbatorix if you're here," she spat, hiding her unease well. "I don't like being that close to so much evil." She glared at him for a few moments, but then she abruptly realized something. "Why do I still have the egg?" she asked, overcome by curiosity.

He raised an eyebrow. "It's not as if you're going anywhere with it."

Taize sighed and sagged against the wall, the reality of what was happening finally sinking in, not caring if she was showing weakness to the mysterious stranger in her cell. Galbatorix was going to get his hands on the last egg again. The last dragon rider in Alagaësia would be under the king's control – if it hatched. She fervently hoped that it would never happen. She doubted that Eragon would be a match for Galbatorix alone, let alone Galbatorix and two Riders. (AN: She knows about Eragon and the fact that there's another new rider because of the gossip around the castle when she was a slave.) Maybe if he could manage to take out the new rider first? Ah well, it didn't matter anyway. She would probably be dead long before the king could be defeated.

For the first time, she wondered if it might have been better for her to stay a slave – and immediately wanted to slap herself for the thought. The month or so that she hadn't been in that miserable castle had been the best time of her life, even if she had been on the run.

She instinctively reached for the egg for comfort. As always, it was warm. For the first time since obtaining it, she pulled it out of the sack. The surface was smooth and almost soft against her fingertips. Taize closed her eyes and held the it close to her chest, letting the warmth seep through her.

Suddenly, she was startled by a loud squeak. What the hell? She nearly dropped the egg. It began to shake in her arms, and she set it on the ground, scared that she had harmed the dragon inside somehow. But then it cracked open.

The green dragon hatchling stared at her from among the remnants of the egg. Oh, crap, she thought. I'm the last rider.

"Well," said the man, "This makes things altogether more interesting."

AN: I LOVE the end of this story. Probably because I love being evil! Oh yeah. Fel: her real name was Felicity, but she hated that because it means "great happiness or bliss." So she made everyone call her Fel. She was another slave who was kind of like a big sister to Taize when she was little, but then she died. Anywho, wait with baited breath for my next story! MWAHAHAHAHA! (The first chapter should be up within a few weeks.)