"Finally!" Mellary exclaimed as the cliffs rolled back and the sky unfolded above. "Open air!"
The water by the shore surged and split apart as Embrald shot off the river bottom and into the air. He landed on the sandy bank with a thud and shook water in all directions. He looked up at the sky and crouched to take off.
Wait! Mellary called, running to the edge of the raft.
We're still in the mountains. Embrald said gently, stopping her cold.
What? Mellary whispered.
Just a little longer. Embrald took off, leaving her standing small and alone on the raft.
Mellary sank back down slowly. Embrald had never intentionally left her behind before. She hated the feeling watching him fly away gave her.
One of the dwarves from Tarnag walked over to her. The currents had picked up once the canyon narrowed sometime in the middle of the morning, making the poling unnecessary. Mellary turned to the warrior.
"I've traveled all around, but I've never been to Tarnage before a few days ago. Can you tell me a little more about the city? I've heard it has a rich history."
The dwarfs were more than willing to share their stories. The afternoon wore on and the sun set as they told stories of the glorious dwarven cities carved beneath the mountain, of the old kings, and even of the dragon riders that used to live there. Embrald returned sometime as they were poling the rafts into the cove. Mellary ignored him completely as she helped set up one of the tents.
She was dozing next to the fire when someone yelled. Mellary leapt to her feet, her sword already in her hand.
Calm down. There's no threat. Embrald said quickly. Nothing you can fight, at least.
Mellary took a deep breath to calm her nerves and slid the blade back into its sheath. She looked over as Arya swept into one of the tents, followed by two dwarves carrying an unconscious Eragon. The dwarves left the tent and Saphira curled up outside, her head right in front of the flap so she could peek in worriedly.
What happened? Mellary asked, the first time she had acknowledged Embrald's presence.
He collapsed. Saphira says it has something to do with a wound he received from a shade during the battle. With your vast knowledge of unusual magic, would you know anything about this?
It would all depend on who the shade was before he became a shade. I barely know anything about Durza, and certainly not enough to say what kind of arcane magic he might have been capable of. Mellary said shortly. She sat back down and closed her eyes, preparing to go back to sleep.
I apologize for leaving you today. Embrald said suddenly. The wyvern attack was painful for you.
Mellary got up, crossed the campsite, and sat down against a log next to Embrald. No words were exchanged, but none needed to be. Both Rider and dragon fell asleep content.
She woke before dawn, just as the sky was turning a pale grey. Mellary climbed to her feet. Something twitched in the corner of her vision. Saphira's blue tail retreated around the corner. In the pre-dawn silence, Mellary could hear the whisper of moving scales. Instinctually, she knew where the dragon was going. Mellary laid a hand on Emrbald's snout. He woke instantly and climbed to his feet. They followed the blue dragon out of camp.
Arya was already standing at the crest of a low hill, her face turned towards the eastern sky. Saphira, Embrald, and Mellary lined up next to her. In complete silence the quartet watched the horizon get lighter and lighter as the sun neared the edge.
Suddenly the sun burst above the horizon, bathing the plains in golden light. Mellary felt the warmth of the light on her face and took a deep breath of the crisp morning air.
There's something enchanting about the dawn. Mellary said to Embrald. The arrival of the sun had broken the spell of silence. We haven't seen a true sunrise in so long.
Not since we entered the Beors. Embrald agreed.
Mellary looked along the line that had gathered. Eragon had joined them and was gazing at the group, the weirdest expression on his face. For a second Mellary panicked, then she noticed that he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at Arya.
She felt her fragile bubble of peace pop.
Oh no.
What?
I'll tell you later. Mellary said as she turned away from the sunrise and headed back to camp.
Tell me what you saw earlier. Embrald begged later. Mellary was sitting her her customary spot on the edge of the raft with her feet in the water. Embrald was drifting below the raft, his head next to her feet. The river was wide and fast, but Embrald's presence beneath the boat had a calming effect on the water. They drifted along serenely.
Do you really want to know? Mellary asked. It's a whole cauldron of live squirming sea snakes. Once you take a bite of that, you have to chew it.
That's awful.
I know!
No, your analogy. Just tell me.
Mellary sighed. Instead of speaking, she shoved the memory at Embrald, complete with her internal monologue.
The dragon blinked.
You are a very cynical person.
You just noticed?
Is it possible…?
He's a back country farm boy. She's an elf. It was almost certain to happen, especially since he resuced her. Mellary drew her legs up and put her head on her knees. Men and their hero mindsets.
Embrald shook his head, possibly from her cynicism, and sank under the water.
What's going to happen when she figures it out?
What I want to know is, what happens when he figures it out. Arya has a hundred years of life to reflect on. Eragon can't be more than sixteen. He's young. Much too young. She added in a soft voice.
Embrald's head broke back above the water and he stared her with brilliant green eyes.
Mellary met his stare. Is there something on your mind? She asked.
No. He sank back down.
Mellary tilted her head up and looked at the massive peak. She had heard the story of the towering mountain, the forerunner of the Beor's, last night. The dwarves bowed to the mountain as they passed.
The cliffs dropped down to rolling hills. Mellary stood up and turned to the dwarf near her.
"The wyverns, the Fanghur, they only live in the mountains, correct?"
"Yes."
"Then the threat is passed."
"Yes."
Mellary grinned widely.
Let's go flying. Embrald suggested.
Absolutely. Mellary agreed. She ran towards the edge of the raft, and a few heartbeats later she was soaring through the air, quickly strapping herself into the saddle. In front of them a blue streak shot into the air as Eragon and Saphira gained height.
Mellary murmured a few words and took in a deep breath.
"ERAGON!" She yelled. Her voice boomed across the distance, magically amplified.
Embrald sped up until the two dragons were flying neck and neck.
"We'll show you some of our tricks if you show us some of yours." She called.
Saphira nodded her big head before flying forward and doing a fast corkscrew through the air.
They spent the rest of the day in the air, doing all sorts of manuvers. By the time the sun set and they landed, both pairs of Rider and dragon were thoroughly exhausted.
Mellary summoned up a fire as their group moored the rafts and began to set up camp. Orik came an sat next to the flames with an ornate case. He reverently lifted a bow from the velvet nest. The bow was ebony with embedded gold designs and the perfect size for a child. Mellary recognized the style; in a decade and a half of travel she had seen it only once before. That weapon had been hidden away behind glass, just a pretty piece to look at. This one lookedd much loved and much used.
Orik vanished to hunt supper. Mellary leaned back against Embrald's side and started to doze. Riding a dragon, even with a saddle, was a lot of work. A Rider had to be on the same level of her dragon when trying complicated maneuvers, especially on the first try. If the Rider leaned one way when the dragon was flying the other direction, it could throw off the delicate balance.
Delicate balance? Embrald snorted, picking up on her thoughts. You throw us off more than half the time.
You're flying the wrong way half the time.
Just because you have all those maps stored up in that fiery head of yours…
… it means that I always know when you're going the wrong way. Mellary finished smugly. Embrald grumbled, but Mellary was distracted by Orik coming back with a fine pair of geese for dinner.
The next few days were leisurely. Mellary spent them either sitting on the rafts or flying with Embrald. After a few days the river took an eastward turn. When they beached the rafts for the final time, Mellary stood for a minute and stared at the eastern horizon. The rolling plains seemed to go on forever, but somewhere the maps ended and the mystery began. Perhapse one day….
"Mellary!" Eragon called.
She turned and walked around the corner, her mind lost in the blank parts of the map. She stopped cold when she saw what was standing next to Eragon.
"No. Absolutely not." She looked down her nose at the donkey. "I am not riding that."
"I will not return to the land of my ancestors on the back of a donkey." Arya snapped, her chin in the air.
"Then how will you keep pace?"
"I will run."
"I'll fly." Mellary said in a no nonsense voice, effectively ending any discussion before it could begin.
From her elevated position, she was the first to see the green expanse of Du Weldenvarden. Mellary was testing her limits, trying to find out how high she could fly before passing out from the thin air. Embrald was along for the ride. They had long passed a lone fluffy cloud and were slowly spiraling up a massive updraft that was likely to dump rain on their group tonight. Embrlad was contemplating trying to breathe fire on the cloud when Mellary noticed the green haze on the horizon. Her stomach dropped back down to the ground as her heart fluttered up to her throat. The surge of dread was so strong that Embrald's wings trembled.
Here we go. Embrald sighed.