Deep breath. I tried to calm my jittery nerves. Yes, I'd evaded soldiers, and yes, I'd fought for my life, but never before had I charged into battle. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned.
"Stay calm. We've been sparring almost nonstop; I know you can do this. Lose focus and you kill us all." Murtagh said calmly.
"How can you be so calm? The odds are against us. We're essentially charging to our deaths, and you think we'll win."
"If you want out, I can go in alone." He said.
"No! I'm going to help you, so you'll help me. But I don't understand how you're so calm, is all." I muttered. He grinned manically.
"These odds? Just how I like them." And with that, he turned the corner and cursed, ducking his head back behind the wall. "Well, there goes my dramatic entrance. There's a whole squad of guards checking for us. We can't take them all out, and the time it would take to evade them will put us too far off; we'll never get to Eragon before Saphira meets us." He said.
I cursed as well, my face reddening slightly. "Come on, I know what to do. Tell me when they're close." He looked at me curiously and suspiciously.
"What are you going to do?"
I sighed. "PDA embarrasses people. They don't want to look at two people kissing." I said, and his face reddened when he caught on.
"No way!" He protested.
"What other choice do we have?" I hissed, peeking my head around the corner, cursing when I saw how close they were. "Hurry, there's no time!"
"Krista, I am not going to kiss-" Frustrated and out of time, I cut him off with a kiss that sent shivers down my spine. As predicted, the guards saw us and shuffled awkwardly past. I broke away with a slight reluctance I didn't really understand as soon as they were past.
"See? I told you it would work. I've used that trick loads of times." I watched Murtagh standing there, a look of absolute shock on his face. I waved my hand in front of his face, and he registered the world again, his cheeks brightening as he wiped his mouth, shuffling his steps. I watched, amused.
Suddenly, his mind processed what I'd said. "Wait, loads of times? Just how many strangers have you kissed?" He asked accusatorially.
It was my turn to redden. "I usually just run away after…. It was only a problem once, and after that I started picking weak looking strangers." I shuddered at the memory. He frowned, but didn't press the issue. "Anyways, the danger is past. Let's go." I said.
His grin returned somewhat, and out of nowhere, he charged the prison. I cursed, laughing, and followed. There were 5 guards at the entrance, sitting at a table playing cards. They stood up when they saw us, confused.
The first guard didn't stand a chance; Murtagh had his sword through his chest before the poor man could get his hand to the pommel of his sword. The next managed to half-draw his weapon before Murtagh slit his throat. The third blocked Murtagh's attack while the fourth reared up behind him. The third guard locked their swords, leaving Murtagh unable to block. Suddenly, there was a knife through the fourth guard's neck. Murtagh half turned, startled, to see me standing with my wrist still cocked from my throw. I drew my own battered sword and began swiftly hacking at the final guard while Murtagh dealt with the third. I cut a gaping slice in the side of his neck about the same time that Murtagh hacked the head off of the third guard in a single, clean swipe.
I turned to him, barely breathing hard. "You were right; these odds are exhilarating." I grinned, and he returned it as we ran inside, hacking and slicing as if we'd been fighting together for years. Soon, we began to hear a commotion. I glanced at Murtagh, his look saying the same thing as mine. Eragon. I was eager to meet him; I'd heard tales of how wise the Riders were, and even though he was just a boy, my junior by a year, if a dragon had chosen him, then he must posses some of their wisdom.
But when we saw him, I couldn't help but be disappointed. He was a boy of 16, as I already knew, but what I couldn't see before was the way he was obviously a farmboy; you could see it in his gait. A gait that was currently faltering. He looked drunken, and i hoped for all of our sakes that he was drugged and this was not his normal behavior. Still, even if he was a young farmboy, he could yet possess the wisdom of the Riders.
I saw that he was facing off against a fallen soldier, and Murtagh managed to shoot a few arrows before becoming locked in hand-to-hand. While Murtagh engaged the last guard on our end of the hallway, I ran to where Eragon was, deflecting a blow that he was too slow to block from a soldier who had run around the corner suddenly.
He turned, startled, and became even more so when he saw me. "Who are you?" He asked in what was obviously an attempt to sound intimidating. I smirked.
"What matters right now," I said, spinning my knife through the air to impale the guard Murtagh was grappling with through the neck "is that I'm here to help." Murtagh ran over.
"I had it under control, you know." He griped. I laughed.
"I was going for speed, but if you want me to hold off, next time I'll appease your ego." His face flamed while Eragon let out a bark of laughter, throwing an appraising look over me. I shifted, uncomfortable, but pushed it aside. Surely I was mistaken.
"Come on. We should get to the weapon room and find Eragon's things before we have to meet Saphira." Murtagh grumbled, and I stifled a giggle.
"What do we do with him?" I asked, gesturing to the soldier who was now so terrified, his pants had a brown stain. I looked at him with a mixture of pity and disgust. I examined him, staring intently before the familiar impression washed over my mind. "He's innocent." I said automatically. "He's just doing his job; he doesn't have any ties to Galbatorix." Murtagh and Eragon both looked at me strangely.
"How can you tell?" Murtagh asked. Eragon opened his mouth, his brow furrowed, but I shot him a confused look and answered.
"I'm good at reading people. I always have been." I said in response. Eragon opened his mouth once more, only to get cut off my Murtagh.
"Well, there's no time. Knock him out and tie him up in one of the cells. It might save his life." The soldier at our feet began thanking us profusely, and while Eragon and Murtagh simply spat or looked away, I bent down to his panicked face.
"I can tell you're a good man. You just want to feed your family, right?" The man nodded again. "Then go. Go far away from here. When they find you, tell them that you found the prisoner escaping, alone, and when you tried to stop him, he used magic to knock you out. They might spare your life, but if they don't, and you can break out, take your family to the docks and sail far away from here. Got it?" The man nodded, abject terror leaving his face and nervous fear and anxiety entering. I smiled kindly at him. "You'll do fine, I know it." I stood up, and, as gently as I could, knocked him out after tying him up and placing him in the cell.
Eragon was looking at me with confusion and distrust; clearly he neither understood nor respected my kindness. I started at him coldly until he looked down. So far, he was not living up to any of my expectations. Murtagh, on the other hand, was looking at me with an unreadable expression, and when he noticed me, he quickly turned to Eragon, leaving me to wonder.
"Come on. We have to find Eragon's things." I nodded and began walking towards the weapons room when Eragon stopped us.
"There's an elf here!" He said. "We have to rescue her." He started walking towards the other cells, deeper into the prison. Murtagh cursed, and I felt one of my odd headaches coming on.
"An elf? What is she doing outside of Du Weldenvarden?" I asked through the pain. Murtagh noticed and stopped.
"Krista, is something wrong?" I waved them ahead, still walking.
"No, I'm fine. These happen fairly regularly. Just keep going; it should fade." I said. Murtagh frowned, but kept walking. Suddenly, I sprinted forward, half diving across the hallway and throwing my knife at the same time. As Murtagh and Eragon hurried forward, they saw the dying guard.
"How did you know he was there?" Eragon asked, astonished. I turned to him in confusion.
"Didn't you hear his footsteps? They weren't exactly quiet…." They both shook their heads.
"We heard nothing. Your ears must be very good." Murtagh said, but the praise was in discord with his face, which was dark and brooding. To make matters worse, my headache only increased when we found the elf.
I cried out looking at her mangled body, tears coming to my eyes. How could anyone do this to someone so pure? Elves were known for nothing but good. Anyone who could torture an elf to this extent was truly evil. I ran to her side, and her eyes fluttered open, becoming astonished when they met mine. She tried to lift her hand to my face, and tried to croak out a word, but was too weak to do either, only managing a few inches and an almost whispered, "Ilo…." before her body slumped and her eyes closed once more. I felt a strange energy crackling in the room.
"We should go. Saphira should be coming to the roof soon." Murtagh spoke quietly, dispelling but not dissipating the energy.
"Yeah...yeah, you're right." I murmured, staring at her face and trying to break free of this wonder. I was almost free when Eragon made an observation that startled me out of my reverie.
"She almost looks like you, Krista. Not really, but if you look you can see it." The boy Rider said to himself, not seeing my reaction.
"It's got to be some kind of coincidence. She's a freaking elf." I said, with what was almost disdain. "Come on, let's go." I said, and we all ran to the meeting point, Murtagh and I leading while Eragon carried the elf behind us.
Eragon stopped in the middle of the hallway. "Murtagh- I just remembered. There's a Shade here, with the soldiers."
We stopped midstride. Murtagh whirled on the farmboy. "A Shade? Eragon, call Saphira now." He cursed under his breath, something that I could barely make out as an insult against the stupidity of people who had been drugged in general and his traveling companion in particular. "We were planning to wait until the watch changed, but we can't even risk that now." He turned back towards where he'd been heading, nearly breaking into a run. I followed, trying to watch for enemies and cursing our luck. Of all things, why a Shade?
Turning into a hallway, we were inside a cavernous room, with one figure standing in a cleared floor and smiling with a grin like a cat's. "So, Du Sundavar Freohr. We meet again, on the battlefield. Perhaps you aren't as much of a fool as I thought." The Shade drew his sword, tracing a long scratch on its blade with a fingertip. "Draw, and fight. Or I kill all of you where you stand." I cursed, grabbing the elf from Eragon's arms and tossing him his sword.
The boy stepped forwards, drawing his blade. I looked at his stance critically. Not bad, in fact nearly as good as Murtagh's, but less fluid and more as though he was tense. Which got you killed. He stepped towards the Shade, who flipped his sword into the guard position lazily and gestured at the youth. "Come on, then."
Their blades clashed with a ferocity even I had rarely seen, weaving webs about each other in a blur of gleaming steel. Then the Shade knocked Eragon's blade tip down, and smiled ferally. "I suppose, if all Riders were as weak as you, they must have dominated by strength alone. You're so weak. Is this all the dragons have to offer?" He threw out his arms widely. "Then they deserved to die!" He lunged at Eragon, who frantically parried before stepping into the very center of the polished tiles.
"No," the boy growled, "you forget one thing!"
The Shade cocked his head. "And what would that be, boy?" Eragon grinned.
"The dragons!" The roof of the room was suddenly missing, and the stars blocked instead by a huge mass of muscle and scale. The Rider threw himself out of the way of Durza's lunge, and the Shade hissed in surprise and- pain?
Murtagh grabbed another arrow, his first one protruding from the Shade's shoulder. Durza grinned, snapping the shaft off with two fingers and waving it at Murtagh. "You'll have to do better than that if you want to-" He was cut off as he dissolved into a grey smoke, Murtagh's second arrow flying in the space between his eyes.
Eragon and I gaped at Murtagh. The Rider found his voice. "You killed him?!"
Murtagh's hand tightened on the bow. "I'm not so sure." I remained quiet, but I sided with Murtagh. This didn't feel over.
A soldier yelled from outside the door, and a rush of Galbatorix's finest came into the room, swords drawn. I rose my knives, prepared to fight. Then Saphira smashed into the building as we scrambled up her side haphazardly. I tied the elf onto the saddle, my head nearly splitting with pain, yet somehow feeling as if I was where I belonged. "We need to- go-" I managed to cough out, before slumping against the elf. Murtagh leapt onto her back, pulling Eragon with him.
Then velvety wings spread and pulled us into the night, followed by the sound of men yelling commands and the horrible scream of a dragon in pain. Through my headache, I looked down to see that Saphira had been hit by arrows from the archers far below.
Later, we made it back to our camp and Eragon set about healing the elf and Saphira. I suffered through a barrage of barbed comments attempting to get under my skin and failing before I stalked over to the horses. I heard footsteps and sensed the presence of Murtagh.
I spoke without turning around. "So, are you sure we just rescued a Rider? Because if I hadn't seen him fight, I'd have thought we just rescued a child." I said, then swiveled my head. Murtagh struggled to contain a grin.
"He's not usually like this. I think he's just not sure if he should be intimidated or attracted to you." Murtagh blushed, though not as much as I did.
"There's no way. I'm pretty intimidating; he would never be attracted to me." I said, looking down. Murtagh opened his mouth, but I didn't get to hear what he was about to say, because at that moment, Eragon came back.
"I've done what I can." He said, his ego forgotten in favor of exhaustion and whatever else I saw in his eyes. I almost shuddered when I saw another appraising look rake down my body. I didn't want to be right, but I was. Drastic times call for drastic measures.
"I've already kissed this one, so don't even think about it." I said, casually throwing a thumb towards said man. Eragon's face went scarlet, and Murtagh choked. I avoided the gaze of both of them until we mounted the horses. Mine had been left behind in Gil'ead, to my sorrow, so I had to ride with Murtagh, although I did manage to insist I sit in the front of the saddle.
Tornac broke into a gallop, and Murtagh grabbed my waist to stabilize himself. The contact sent shivers down my spine. It's nothing.