Her dark rage carried her out of the training grounds. The forest around her still had that frighteningly sharp clarity that meant she was in the grip of battle fever. Every leaf looked like it had been etched in green fire. On the fringes of her mind she could hear Embrald's concerned voice, growing more insistent. She ignored it.
Iron sheathed in green scales wrapped around her middle. The ground vanished from beneath her feet.
PUT ME DOWN! she screamed at her dragon.
No. Not until you are calm, Embrald said back. They climbed higher, breaking through the canopy into the morning sky.
Mellary huffed, sure that the elves below them were wondering exactly why the green dragon was flying off with his Rider clutched in one forepaw. Funny, because she was wanted to know the same thing.
What has gotten into you? she demanded. The empty air below her didn't stop her from wiggling in his grip.
I should ask the same question of you, Embrald growled back.
He almost succeeded in killing me! Why would I not be angry? Mellary snapped
I have felt your mind angry. I know how you react when you are furious. This was something beyond that. I have never felt anyone that angry.
And you are so empathic, to know this, Mellary snarled.
Yes.
That made her pause. Embrald had never exhibited strange dragon magic, the way Saphira had. She realized now that, just because she hadn't seen it didn't mean that he wasn't using it. She would have to ask later, when she wasn't dangling from his claws a league above the ground.
The silence dragged on.
Put me down.
Not until you are calm.
I am calm. Her mental voice was cool. The icy frigid calm of the northern glaciers, or the danger-laden calm before a hurricane.
No, you are not. He sounded unamused.
You ungrateful… Mellary resumed wiggling.
If you do not calm down, I will dunk you in the lake.
Mellary looked down, and saw a yawning blue expanse beneath her feet.
You wouldn't dare, she snarled.
Really. His voice mirrored hers for temperature. The dragon folded his wings and they fell towards the mirror. Twenty feet above the water he swooped up easily.
I knew you wouldn't…. Mellary began.
The bands around her midsection vanished. Mellary screamed out a curse as she fell, the wind whipping her hair into a flaming streak behind her. She curled her body up right before she hit the water. The water blasted open as she hit and slapped closed over her head with enough force to blow her ears out.
She uncurled and stroked for the surface. Embrald! she cried, reaching down their connection only to find a cast iron wall. He had shut her out.
Her head broke through the surface and she inhaled. Her braids hadn't survived her plummet, and strands of fire clung to her face. Mellary brushed them away impatiently, looking around.
The lake wasn't large by the standards of lakes, but that winged lizard had managed to drop her in the exact center. It was going to be a swim in any direction.
A flash of green dropped out of the sky, flaring large wings to settle gracefully on the closest bank.
Come pick me up, Mellary demanded.
You can swim. On shore, she saw the green shape curl up comfortably.
It will take at least half an hour! she cried.
Then it will give you a chance to work off some of that excess energy, Embrald said. His barriers came down hard on the tail end of the thought, silencing any argument.
Mellary growled and struck out for shore.
Thirty minutes later she reached the bank. There was no shore, just a three foot drop from the forest floor down to the glassy water. Mellary paused, staring up at the cliff in dismay.
A scale-covered tail slid over the edge. Mellary wrapped her hands around it and seconds later she was hauled out of the water and dragged over the edge to be dumped unceremoniously on the ground. She stared up at the sky, water dripping off softly.
Feeling better? Embrald inquired mildly.
You idiot. The insult didn't have any heat behind it. She twisted her head to look at the dragon, crouched on the bank like a content cat. The tip of his tail was even twitching slightly.
I take it you are sufficiently cooled off? Embrald asked.
That lake was only a few degrees warmer than snowmelt.
Figuratively cooled off.
I gathered.
Mellary blinked at the sky, then sighed. We should move. Oromis will wonder where we are.
Glaedr already inquired as to our whereabouts. I told him we would be over soon.
Mellary sighed and stood, water rolling from her skin. A murmured word and it ran off of her in threads, then ropes, twining back into the water. Her hair sprang up, strands curling dramatically.
That was quite a throw, Embrald commented. I did not know you could toss a knife that well.
Mellary laughed dryly. If I had a thousand knifes, I couldn't do that again, she confided. That was the perfect meeting of anger and skill. She began to rebraid her hair over the tips of her ears, then stopped. Her tie was floating somewhere in the middle of the lake, and her hair was not going to stay braided without it.
With a quiet sigh she raked her fingers through the fiery strands, obliterating the braids.
I shouldn't have done it, she said quietly. My anger got the better of me. I was… I was always so careful, when I lived here, not to do anything like that. I think it scared the elves when I did.
Why would it scare them?
Because I have elven strength, agility, ability, and skill, but I have human control over my emotions. I always had the potential to snap.
As you did in the arena.
Yes. She stood and climbed onto his back. I'm calm, now. Let's go before they start looking for us.
Embrald rose and leapt into the air.
The feel of the wind on her exposed ear tips was an unpleasant shock.
I am sorry for dropping you in the lake.
Mellary snorted. No, you're not. And just so we're clear, if you drop me in a lake again I will set your tail on fire.
Agreed.
They arrived to find the other four waiting for them. Mellary apologized for the both of them, though she gave Embrald a pointed look as she did. She didn't mention her swim.
They went through the Rimgar and separated for meditation. Mellary fidgeted the entire time, disquieted. After the prescribed hour, they returned and settled down for lunch.
"Saphira says you're fortunate that knife didn't hit Vanir," Eragon said.
Mellary shorted. "You can assure Saphira that luck had nothing to do with that. If I wanted to hit him, I would have," she told him.
Oromis focused on her with the unerring intensity of a hunting hawk. Reluctantly, Mellary explained what had happened on the training grounds.
"Anger is not the answer to these situations," Oromis told her.
"I know," Mellary growled.
"You cannot allow rage to control your decisions," he continued, becoming more concerned as she became visible frustrated. "If you do…"
"I become no better than our enemies," Mellary snapped, her temper fraying unusually fast. "But I think I'm justified," she said, raising her hands to her collar. Mellary yanked the material aside, revealing the thick, off-colored skin that ringed her neck.
Both men stilled.
"Fifteen years ago I left Ellesméra," she said in a deceptively even. "The night before I left, I was challenged by Vanir to a duel. During the fight, he tried to slit my throat. His sword had mysteriously lost its guard during the fight. He and his friends left me to bleed out on the ground."
"But you survived," Eragon said softly.
"Clearly," Mellary snapped. "I managed to heal some of the damage on my own, but I was too dizzy from blood loss at that point to finish." She smoothed the tunic back into place, adjusting the collar to hide the scar. "He almost succeeded in killing me and drove me from Du Weldenvarden. I'm sure you can see why I harbor a little resentment."
"The breed of violence you demonstrated this morning has no justification," Oromis said.
"We are at war." Mellary just prevented herself from snarling. "There will be violence of all breeds, justified and senseless. It's not something we, anyone, can stop."
"So you should not try?" Oromis asked.
"I didn't say that," Mellary snapped, shifting in her seat.
"Violence begets violence, anger begets anger. Even if you believe your anger to be justified, you cannot allow it to control you."
"If I allowed my anger to control me," Mellary said in a low voice. "He wouldn't be unharmed right now." The beginnings of rage colored her voice scarlet.
Neither man knew what to say to that. A charged silence filled the room.
Eragon was the first to break the quiet. "I know why fighting Galbatorix is worth it, though thousands of people may die," He said.
"Oh? Do tell me."
"Because Galbatorix has already caused more suffering over the past hundred years than we ever could in a single generation." Mellary snorted softly, earning herself a flashing glance from Oromis.
"I think you're underestimating the human capacity for violence, but continue," she said.
"Unlike a normal tyrant, we cannot wait for him to die. He could rule for centuries or millennia-persecuting and tormenting people the entire time- unless we stop him. If he becomes strong enough, he would march on the dwarves and you here in Du Weldenvarden and kill or enslave both races. And because rescuing the two eggs from Galbatorix is the only way to save the dragons." He sounded exhausted and resigned.
Oromis studied at the boy as the tea kettle screamed. Mellary rose and removed it from the flames, using the rote motions to give herself time to think.
"Now," the old elf said, "You understand."
"I understand, but I take no pleasure in it."
"Nor should you. But now we can be confident that you won't shrink from the path when you are confronted by the injustices and atrocities that the Varden will inevitably commit."
"Should we not try to stop it?" Mellary quipped, echoing his earlier words. "Or should we simply assume that this is the price of freedom?" She took the tea to the table and sat down. "You said we could not equal the suffering that Galbatorix has caused. However, much of that suffering has been, in recent years, the unintentional side effects of his rule and not deliberate action on his part. The suffering caused by this brewing war will be intentional and direct. Can we assume that unintentional suffering had equal weight to directed cruelty?"
"What if we can?" Eragon asked.
"In that case, you are correct," she said.
"And if not?" Oromis asked.
"Then you have a problem."
The dark thoughts seemed to be gathering in the air. Mellary remembered something else.
"'When', not 'if'," she murmured. Two pairs of eyes looked at her. "Galbatorix has already grown powerful enough to march on the dwarves and the Varden: we witnessed that a few weeks ago. Anyone with enough magic would have noticed the menace that has grown over the land in the past year." She scowled as a though flitted through her mind and vanished before she could catch it. She gave herself a slight shake, focusing on what she was saying.
"My point is that you can't treat that as a possibility, you have to consider Galbatorix's invasion as an eventual reality," she sighed. Eragon nodded, though he looked slightly sick.
Oromis studied the dark mirrored surface of his tea.
"Do you believe Galbatorix to be evil?" he asked the liquid.
"Of course!" Eragon said. Mellary dipped her head slightly.
"Do you believe that he considered himself evil?"
"No, I doubt it," the blue Rider said.
"Few ever consider themselves to be evil," Mellary said softly.
"And what of the Urgals? Are they evil?"
Eragon's eyes flashed with fire, and Mellary could feel an echo of her previous rage rising in him.
"When I think of death, I see an Urgal's face. They're worse than beasts!"
Mellary let her gaze drift away, thinking back. Her memory conjured up images of blue fabric drifting in the wind, flickering in the light of a massive bonfire. She could almost hear heavy bare feet pounding the ground in dance, raucous chats and the roll of a deep drum. A victorious horn call rose over the noise, climbing its way to the stars.
She had been in the windswept plains to the north, where few ever went. Her curiosity stirred, Mellary had crept closer. Invisible in the shadows, she had watched the Urgals celebrate a birth. She had been stunned for a moment, watching the parents hold the new child, until her common sense had reasserted itself and she had snuck off.
"What do you actually know of Urgals? Why do they hate and fight humans? What about their history and legends, or the way in which they live?" Oromis was pressing.
"Does it matter?" Eragon asked sullenly.
"Just remember that at a certain point, your enemies may have to become your allies. Such is the nature of life."
"Is that why Galbatorix enlisted the Urgals?" Eragon asked.
Mellary frowned slightly, her mind churning. There was something about the Urgals that she had to remember…
"That is not an example I would have chosen, but yes."
"It seems strange that he befriended them. After all, they were the ones who killed his dragon. Look at what he did to us, the Riders, and we weren't even responsible for his loss."
"It is strange," Mellary murmured. Her head snapped up. "Eragon. What do you remember about the end of the battle in Tronjheim?"
"Nothing after Durza's death," he said with concealed shudder.
"Did anything happen after you stabbed his heart?" she pressed.
"There was a wave of darkness," Eragon said hesitantly.
"I remember that," she said contemplatively. "It swept over the army, and then they turned on each other. At least half of them were being controlled against their wills." Mellary was drawing on the exhaustion-clouded memories of what she had seen from Embrald's back. She would have asked her dragon, but he was out of their range at the moment.
"The ability to control another is part of the shades magic," Oromis said, but he seemed to have picked up on her concern.
"Not to that extent," Mellary said. "Durza was powerful, but that amount of magic would have killed even a shade."
"I thought shades could only be killed by a blade through the heart," Eragon said.
"Physically yes, but the spirit itself is made of magic. If it devoted enough of its own power to a spell, it could have been drained dry. In that case it would have simply faded away," Mellary said absently.
"You believe that the Urgals were being controlled by another?" Oromis asked. His voice was neutral.
"Perhaps," Mellary said, hating the implications.
If it were true, they had gained another powerful enemy.
Aaaaaand we're back!
Sorry about the delay. Life got complicated, and I couldn't keep up with the story and everything else.
Hopefully, it won't happen again.
I'm going to try for weekly updates, but I can't make any promises.