Chapter 13.1

I awaken to find myself flying over a desert. I look up and see white scales pointing down. It then occurs to me that Finca must be carrying me.

Finca where are we? I ask.

Flying over the Hadarac Desert, master, she replies.

Brom?

Dead, she answers.

I blink. He must have died from having the blade coated with poison slide between his ribs, the same poison that killed Garrow.

Murtagh is on my back and you are in my forepaws, Finca growls.

Eragon and Saphira?

They are with us, although Saphira dislikes me, Finca answers.

I am about to ask why but then I remember that Finca doesn't like to be asked why something happened. Wait, I didn't know that a second ago! Could my memories slowly be returning? Finca seems to hear my thoughts and merely chuckles.

What's so funny? I ask.

You are regaining your memories, master, she answers, holding back a chuckle.

And you think it's funny?

Yes . . . Well no, master, I don't, she answers after a little while, her voice softer than I've ever heard it.

What's wrong? I ask.

Every day we waste traveling brings the eggs closer to being ready for me to lay them, Finca growls.

How many months has it been? I ask and then realize that I must have just remembered that as well.

You've been unconscious for four weeks master, so do not get alarmed each time you recall something from your past. Now about your question, it will be twelve months in two weeks and by that time we will have reached the Varden, I hope.

I barely caught the last end of her words but it sounded like 'I hope'. I wonder why she would be worried?

We will be landing soon and I'm sure that both Eragon and Saphira will be glad to see that you have awoken, Finca growls as she begins to circle downward.

A sudden gust of wind forces her back up but she dives down again. The wind is worse and she is thrown backwards with more force, almost throwing Murtagh off her back.

'Finca careful!' He warns.

She grips my body and lunges forward again to only be met by a far stronger blast of wind. She tries her best to fight it but the wind tears into her body and she screams in pain, going into a quick downward spin that breaks us free of the wind gust. As we get closer to the ground I start to get worried. She hasn't pulled back up to avoid striking the ground with her chest and forelegs, which I'm grasped in between.

Finca! I yell. Watch out!