I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my best friend, Bianca G, AKA Greenface02, and tell her that nothing that happened is her fault, and we'll still be best friends even now when we're about 2 hundred miles away. We have the internet!
Lyroxia woke up for the fourth time in just a few hours, and groaned as she sat up, rubbing her head, which continued to throb painfully. Ignoring this, she tried to remember the dream she had just had. It had been blotchy and vague, yet so real. The dream had consisted of a series of images. Each one had flashed for a few seconds to the forefront of her mind, before ebbing away, to be replaced by another. The first image she remembered was sitting in Lord Alexander's study, and the Lord had just lifted the lid of a grubby wooden box, and she saw the dragon egg inside. The second was of holding the dragon egg close to her chest, as it beat faintly and reflected the light from the fire... a new born dragon hatchling, nudging her hand, then she was examining her palm, which now bore the Gedway Ignasia, the mark of a dragon rider... stroking a beautiful silver dragon hatchling... The list went on.
The dream confused Lyroxia, yet it scared her as well. She was sure she had never had a dream like that before, it must mean something. Her mind was gradually clearing up, and she began to think more clearly. Slowly, she raised her right palm to eye level, and she recognised the exact same silvery, oval scar she had seen in her dream. She didnt remember acquiring it... But didn't her dream tell her? The dream showed a dragon touching her hand, and then this mark appearing... but that was impossible, she thought. But there was a small voice in her mind nagging at her that it wasn't, not necessarily, and she knew it.
Murtagh restlessly paced around the small chamber, highly agitated, and utterly exhausted.
Murtagh, Thorn said, Sleep, now.
I can't.
Well then, eat something.
Like what? The Ra'zac only eat human flesh... I don't think a meal here would be very enjoyable? Do you?
Lie down, then.
Leave me alone.
Sit down, then. And if you want to be alone, you can always sit in the corner facing the wall and pretend I'm not here.
Stop nagging me, Thorn.
No. Rest.
No!
Rest, Murtagh.
No.
I'll tie you down myself. I'm warning you.
Resting won't be very helpful if I'm asleep when Eragon and his cousin arrive.
Eragon and Saphira are not due to arrive at Helgrind for a fair few hours. If they arrive while you are sleeping, do you really think I won't wake you? I've already recuperated, I won't need to sleep for ages.
Mostly because he could not think of another argument than anything, Murtagh slouched over to the rough bed, and sullenly lay down on it, grumbling as he did so.
Good, said a satisfied Thorn. Now, you should visit the girl around mid afternoon to see if she remembers anything... Ok? I'll wake you when it's time.
Murtagh mumbled something indistinct, his voice muffled by the pillows, then immeadiatly began to snore. Thorn rolled his eyes, and proceeded out of the chamber, then padded down a rough stone tunnel.
He carried on walking for only a few more minutes, until he came to a small chamber, only slightly wider then the tunnel that led to it. Huddled in a corner was the silver hatchling. He had one end of a chain around his neck, the other end was attached to a wooden stake which was buried in the cold stone wall of the chamber.
He looked up as Thorn entered and let out another one of his shrill squeaks as he scrambled clumsily to his feet.
Oh, be quiet, Thorn said. That harsh noise was starting to hurt his ears.
The hatchling, who, of course, hadn't understood a word, let out another cry as the older dragon lay down beside him, and bared his tiny, needle like fangs.
Missing Lyroxia? Thorn asked him.
The hatchling looked up and blinked as he recognised his rider's name, looking up at Thorn with curiosity and apprehension in his eyes.
She's alright, Thorn said, but for the reaction he got this time, he might have been talking to the wall. The baby dragon knew practically nothing of this language, but Thorn continued to talk to him. He new it was important for them to become friends, and it would be hard to make that happen if the hatchling was left with only the pain of being captured by Thorn to brood on in his hours alone. Thorn talked to him for about half an hour, droning on and on; moaning about Murtagh, ranting about galbatorix, until the dragon began snoring as Thorn began monologuing about his favourite hunting sites in Alageasia.
Feeling satisfied that the hatchling didn't think of him as a big of a threat anymore, Thorn got up, yawned and stretched, looking regretfully back at the chain round the hatchling's neck as he left.