Answers to reviews:
Dreagon D. Dragon: Glad you like it.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls or The Inheritance Cycle.
When the next day rose, Daemon woke up and stretched to let any stiffness in his bones and joints pop. He rolled his shoulders and head, feeling more pops in his body until he felt right. Brom was already awake and getting ready for the travelling. Seeing Eragon still sleeping, Daemon walked over and gently nudged his friend with his foot.
"Wake up, bud, we're leaving." Daemon said, getting a tired groan from Eragon but he soon awakened.
"Well, least I don't have to worry about the usual sore muscles in the morning." Eragon said as he got to his feet, learning that the cramping and sore muscles he had grown used to in the morning were becoming less so.
"It's progress in your training." Daemon said, getting a nod of agreement from Eragon. "Another sign of how much you've grown these past few weeks since leaving Carvahall."
I agree. Saphira said with a pleased hum as she licked her Rider's cheek. I had grown weary of your constant grumbles in the morning.
Eragon snorted. "You're not a bright and cheerful person in the morning yourself, Saphira."
Daemon chuckled as he joined in. "Yeah, she gets cranky when she doesn't get her precious beauty sleep. Or maybe she's a bit of a grouch."
Eragon laughed, both unaware of the glare the dragoness was shooting them. She took them by surprise when her tail swiped them off their feet and onto their backs. They groaned and tried to sit up, only to find themselves pinned down by Saphira's forelegs.
I'm sorry, care to repeat that? Saphira said with a low growl.
Wow... you really are a grouch at times. Daemon said and Saphira dug her paw in deeper on his chest.
Okay! Okay! We're very, very sorry, Saphira. Eragon said, stifling his chuckles at Daemon being more buried in the ground than he was. Saphira rumbled in satisfaction and allowed them to get to their feet. As they did so, Eragon whispered to Daemon. "Maybe it's best to never make fun of a live dragon."
"Are you kidding? it's hilarious to tease her." Daemon said with a snicker, before stiffening when the sapphire-scaled huntress shot him a glare.
Keep laughing, Daemon, and you'll learn the hard way why you should never laugh at a live dragon. Saphira warned.
Mounting the horses, Daemon got on Shadowmere, Eragon onto Cadoc and they set off with Brom. As they set off at a good pace, Eragon wanted to know more about Daemon, about the Dragonborn story and the dragon language. "Daemon, can you tell me more about the Dragonborn legend?"
"What do you want to know?" Daemon asked, looking at him.
"Well, you called yourself the Last Dragonborn." Eragon said and noticed Daemon's hands grip Shadowmere's reigns a little tigher, as if knowing what Eragon was going to ask. "Who was the first?"
"A cruel man." Daemon said darkly, inhaling deeply then exhaling. "The First Dragonborn is someone I myself faced and destroyed, a man who was feared and hated by the dragons. He used to serve them, but he grew arrogant with his power used it to bend the wills of dragons to his own and make them slaves. Even Alduin himself despised this man with his very being."
"And what was his name?" Brom asked curiously.
"His name was Miraak."
Days passed quickly as they continued to trek along the Spine, searching for the mountain pass. Along the way, Daemon and Eragon continued to learn more about the Ancient Language, and Eragon continued his lessons in practicing magic with Brom, as well as the three continuing to spar with each other.
When they finally reached the pass, Eragon saw that a river rushed out of it and cut across the road. "This is the Toark," explained Brom. "We'll follow it all the way to the sea."
"How can we," laughed Eragon, "if it flows out of the Spine in this direction? It won't end up in the ocean unless it doubles back on itself."
Brom twisted the ring on his finger. "Because in the middle of the mountains rests the Woadark Lake. A river flows from each end of it and both are called the Toark. We see the eastward one now. It runs to the south and winds through the brush until it joins Leona Lake. The other one goes to the sea."
After two days in the Spine, they came upon a rock ledge from which they could see clearly out of the mountains. Daemon noticed how the land flattened in the distance, and Eragon groaned at the leagues they still had to traverse. Brom pointed. "Down there and to the north lies Teirm. It is an old city. Some say it's where the elves first landed in Alagaësia. Its citadel has never fallen, nor have its warriors ever been defeated." He spurred Snowfire forward and left the ledge.
It took them until noon the next day to descend through the foothills and arrive at the other side of the Spine, where the forested land quickly leveled out. Without the mountains to hide behind, Saphira flew close to the ground, using every hollow and dip in the land to conceal herself.
Beyond the forest, they noticed a change. The countryside was covered with soft turf and heather that their feet sank into. Moss clung to every stone and branch and lined the streams that laced the ground. Pools of mud pocked the road where horses had trampled the dirt. Before long the trio of Daemon, Brom and Eragon were splattered with grime.
"Why is everything green?" asked Eragon. "Don't they have winter here?"
"Yes, but the season is mild. Mist and fog roll in from the sea and keep everything alive. Some find it to their liking, but to me it's dreary and depressing."
"Oh just bear with it, I've walked through worst and been covered in worse." Daemon said with a grimace.
When evening fell, they set up camp in the driest spot they could find. As they ate, Brom commented, "You should continue to ride your horses until we reach Teirm." Both Daemon and Eragon groaned at this for different reasons. Eragon wanted to go flying with Saphira while Daemon wanted to try out his dragon form again. Brom ignored their complaints. "It's likely that we'll meet other travelers now that we are out of the Spine, and it will be better if you are with me. An old man traveling alone will raise suspicion. With you at my side, no one will ask questions. Besides, I don't want to show up at the city and have someone who saw me on the trail wondering where you suddenly came from."
"Will we use our own names?" asked Eragon.
Brom thought about it. "We won't be able to deceive Jeod. He already knows my name, and I think I trust him with yours. But to everyone else, I will be Neal and you will be my nephews Evan and Markus If our tongues slip and give us away, it probably won't make a difference, but I don't want our names in anyone's heads. People have an annoying habit of remembering things they shouldn't."
After two days of traveling north toward the ocean, Saphira sighted Teirm. A heavy fog clung to the ground, obscuring her companions' view until a breeze from the west blew the mist away. Eragon gaped and Daemon whistled as Teirm was suddenly revealed before them, nestled by the edge of the shimmering sea, where proud ships were docked with furled sails. The surf's dull thunder could be heard in the distance.
The city was contained behind a white wall—a hundred feet tall and thirty feet thick—with rows of rectangular arrow slits lining it and a walkway on top for soldiers and watchmen. The wall's smooth surface was broken by two iron portcullises, one facing the western sea, the other opening south to the road. Above the wall—and set against its northeast section—rose a huge citadel built of giant stones and turrets. In the highest tower, a lighthouse lantern gleamed brilliantly. The castle was the only thing visible over the fortifications.
Soldiers guarded the southern gate but held their pikes carelessly. "This is our first test," said Brom. "Let's hope they haven't received reports of us from the Empire and won't detain us. Whatever happens, don't panic or act suspiciously."
Eragon told Saphira, You should land somewhere now and hide. We're going in.
Sticking your noses where it doesn't belong. Again, she said sourly.
I know. But the three of us do have some advantages most people don't. We'll be all right.
If anything happens, I'm going to hold you two in my claws and never let you off.
We love you too, Saphira. Daemon said dryly.
Then I will hold you all the tighter, hatchlings.
They rode toward the gate, trying to appear casual. A yellow pennant bearing the outline of a roaring lion and an arm holding a lily blossom waved over the entrance. As they neared the wall, Eragon asked in amazement, "How big is this place?"
"Larger than any city you have ever seen," said Brom.
"You should see some of the cities in Tamriel." Daemon said with a chuckle.
At the entrance to Teirm, the guards stood straighter and blocked the gate with their pikes. "Wha's yer name?" asked one of them in a bored tone.
"I'm called Neal," said Brom in a wheezy voice, slouching to one side, an expression of happy idiocy on his face.
"And who's th' other ones?" asked the guard.
"Well, I wus gettin' to that. This'ed be m'nephews Markus n' Evan. They's m'sister's boys, not a..."
The guard nodded impatiently. "Yeah, yeah. And yer business here?"
"He's visitin' an old friend," supplied Eragon, dropping his voice into a thick accent. "We're along t' make sure he don't get lost, if y' get m'meaning."
"Aye." Daemon nodded, adopting the same kind of voice. "He ain't as young as he used to be—had a bit too much sun when he was young'r. Touch o' the brain fever, y' know." Brom bobbed his head pleasantly.
"Right. Go on through," said the guard, waving his hand and dropping the pike. "Just make sure he doesn't cause any trouble."
"Oh, he won't," promised Eragon and Daemon and they urged their horses forward into Teirm. The cobblestone street clacked under the horses' hooves.
Once they were away from the guards, Brom sat up and growled, "Touch of brain fever, eh?"
"In your old age, it might happen." Daemon shrugged while Eragon clutched his sides from laughing too hard.
Brom harrumphed and looked away.
The houses were grim and foreboding. Small, deep windows let in only sparse rays of light. Narrow doors were recessed into the buildings. The tops of the roofs were flat—except for metal railings—and all were covered with slate shingles. Eragon noticed that the houses closest to Teirm's outer wall were no more than one story, but the buildings got progressively higher as they went in. Those next to the citadel were tallest of all, though insignificant compared to the fortress.
"This place looks ready for war," said Eragon.
"I've seen that." Daemon nodded, having seen Whiterun preparing itself for war when the Stormcloaks invaded.
Brom nodded. "Teirm has a history of being attacked by pirates, Urgals, and other enemies. It has long been a center of commerce. There will always be conflict where riches gather in such abundance. The people here have been forced to take extraordinary measures to keep themselves from being overrun. It also helps that Galbatorix gives them soldiers to defend their city."
"Why are some houses higher than others?"
"Look at the citadel," said Brom, pointing. "It has an unobstructed view of Teirm. If the outer wall were breached, archers would be posted on all the roofs. Because the houses in the front, by the outer wall, are lower, the men farther back could shoot over them without fear of hitting their comrades. Also, if the enemy were to capture those houses and put their own archers on them, it would be an easy matter to shoot them down."
"I've never seen a city planned like this," said Eragon in wonder.
"Yes, but it was only done after Teirm was nearly burned down by a pirate raid," commented Brom. As they continued up the street, people gave them searching looks, but there was not an undue amount of interest.
Compared to our reception at Daret, we've been welcomed with open arms. Perhaps Teirm has escaped notice by the Urgals. Eragon said to Daemon.
Oh yeah? Daemon almost scoffed as a large man shouldered past them, a sword hanging from his waist. There were other, subtler signs of adverse times: no children played in the streets, people bore hard expressions, and many houses were deserted, with weeds growing from cracks in their stone-covered yards.
"It looks like they've had trouble," said Eragon.
"The same as everywhere else," said Brom grimly. "We have to find Jeod."
After stopping at a local tavern called the Green Chestnut, they acquired directions to where they might find Jeod's house. They came to a herbalist's shop, which sat between two houses. They found a short, curly haired woman they assumed to be Angela sitting out front with a piece of parchment in one hand, and a frog in the other.
Brom approached and asked. "Could you tell us which house Jeod lives in?"
"I could." She continued writing.
"Will you tell us?"
"Yes." She fell silent, but her pen scribbled faster than ever. The frog on her hand croaked and looked at them with baleful eyes. The trio waited uncomfortably, but she said no more. Daemon and Eragon shared a look, and Eragon was about to blurt something out when Angela looked up. "Of course I'll tell you! All you have to do is ask. Your first question was whether or not I could tell you, and the second was if I would tell you. But you never actually put the question to me."
"Then let me ask properly," said Brom with a smile. "Which house is Jeod's? And why are you holding a frog?"
"Now we're getting somewhere," she bantered. "Jeod is on the right. And as for the frog, he's actually a toad. I'm trying to prove that toads don't exist—that there are only frogs."
"How can toads not exist if you have one on your hand right now?" interrupted Eragon. "Besides, what good will it do, proving that there are only frogs?"
The woman shook her head vigorously, dark curls bouncing. "No, no, you don't understand. If I prove toads don't exist, then this is a frog and never was a toad. Therefore, the toad you see now doesn't exist. And," she raised a small finger, "if I can prove there are only frogs, then toads won't be able to do anything bad—like make teeth fall out, cause warts, and poison or kill people. Also, witches won't be able to use any of their evil spells because, of course, there won't be any toads around."
"I see," said Brom delicately. "It sounds interesting, and I would like to hear more, but we have to meet Jeod."
"Of course," she said, waving her hand and returning to her writing.
Once they were out of the herbalist's hearing, Daemon said. "Come in all favours, don't they? City people."
"Oh, you never know." shrugged Brom. "She might discover something useful, like the fact that toads really are frogs!"
"Right, and my shoes are made of gold," retorted Eragon.
They stopped before a door with a wrought-iron knocker and marble doorstep. Brom banged three times. No one answered. Eragon felt slightly foolish. "Maybe this is the wrong house. Let's try the other one," he said. Brom ignored him and knocked again, pounding loudly.
Again no one answered. Eragon turned away in exasperation, then heard someone run to the door. A young woman with a pale complexion and light blond hair cracked it open. Her eyes were puffy; it looked like she had been crying, but her voice was perfectly steady. "Yes, what do you want?"
"Does Jeod live here?" asked Brom kindly.
The woman dipped her head a little. "Yes, he is my husband. Is he expecting you?" She opened the door no farther.
"No, but we need to talk with him," said Brom.
"He is very busy."
"We have traveled far. It's very important that we see him."
Her face hardened. "He is busy."
Brom bristled, but his voice stayed pleasant. "Since he is unavailable, would you please give him a message?" Her mouth twitched, but she consented. "Tell him that a friend from Gil'ead is waiting outside."
The woman seemed suspicious, but said, "Very well." She closed the door abruptly. They heard her footsteps recede. Daemon let out a low whistle and crossed his arms.
"That wasn't very polite." Eragon commented.
"Keep your opinions to yourself," snapped Brom. "And don't say anything. Let me do the talking." He crossed his arms and tapped his fingers. Eragon clamped his mouth shut and looked away.
The door suddenly flew open, and a tall man burst out of the house. His expensive clothes were rumpled, his gray hair wispy, and he had a mournful face with short eyebrows. A long scar stretched across his scalp to his temple.
At the sight of them, his eyes grew wide, and he sagged against the doorframe, speechless. His mouth opened and closed several times like a gasping fish. He asked softly, in an incredulous voice, "Brom...?"
Brom put a finger to his lips and reached forward, clasping the man's arm. "It's good to see you, Jeod! I'm glad that memory has not failed you, but don't use that name. It would be unfortunate if anyone knew I was here."
Jeod looked around wildly, shock plain on his face. "I thought you were dead," he whispered. "What happened? Why haven't you contacted me before?"
"All things will be explained. Do mind if we continue this conversation inside?" Brom asked.
Jeod hesitated, swinging his gaze between Eragon, Brom, and Daemon– his face unreadable. Finally he said, "Yes, you can tie your horses off on the post off to the side of the house. I'll have a stable boy take them and feed them."
Doing what the man said, Brom, Eragon and Daemon tethered their horses and proceeded inside the doorway. Entering into a large foyer, Jeod led the men up a set of stairs to the second landing. They walked along a hallway that was littered with doors and paintings on the walls. Jeod opened a door at the far end of the room and ushered the men inside. The room was rather spacious with an ornate carpet and bookshelves placed along the sides of the room. A large wooden table sat in the middle of the room with a high back chair. Jeod proceeded to sit down in it and gestured for the three to do the same. There were sitting chairs in the room and each person claimed one as their own.
"You, old man, have some explaining to do."
Brom's face crinkled with a smile. "Who are you calling an old man? The last time I saw you there was not a spec of grey in your hair. Now look at it."
"And you look the same as you did nearly two decades ago. And you still act the same as ever. Enough of this though, get on with your story," said Jeod impatiently.
Brom relaxed into his chair and pulled out his pipe. He began to blow puffs of smoke. "Do you remember why we were in Gil'ead?"
"Yes, of course," said Jeod. "That sort of thing is hard for a man to forget."
"Well, after we had gotten separated, I managed to find myself in a room fully of crates and boxes. And out of curiosity, I decided to rummage through them. And by the grace of the gods I had managed to find what we were looking for." An expression of shock ran over Jeod's face. "Once I had it in my hands, I couldn't wait to find you or else we would be caught. I fled the city and took it to the Varden for safekeeping until I was needed to fulfill my duty."
Jeod inspected both Eragon and Daemon, his grey eyes taking in every detail. He raised his eyebrows and said, "I assume, then, that you are fulfilling your duty?"
"No, it's not that simple. Unfortunately, it was stolen. After living in Carvahall for some time I decided to learn what I could of what happened. These two young men happened to be traveling in the same direction and we have stayed together since."
A puzzled look grew on Jeod's face. "Did the Varden inform you?"
"No," was Brom's reply.
"Then how could have known that it was – "
Brom cut him off quickly, saying, "Eragon's uncle," directing to the young brown haired boy, "was brutally killed by the Ra'zac. They burned his home and nearly him in the process. He seeks out revenge, but they have left us with not trace. We need your help to find them."
"I do not know where the Ra'zac might be hiding. And no one has told me so."
Reaching inside his robes, Brom produced the Ra'zac's flask and tossed it over to Jeod. "There's Seithr oil in it – the dangerous kind. The Ra'zac were carrying. They lost it along the road and we happened to find it. We need to see Teirm's shipping records so we can trace the Empire's purchases of the oil. That should tell us where the Ra'zac's lair is."
Lines appeared on Jeod's face as he pondered. He pointed to the books on the bookshelf. "Do you see all those? Those are just the records of my business. Just my business. The records you seek are held in the citadel and there are thousands of books that could take months to shift through. You've gotten yourself into a project that may be over your heads. What's worse, we normal merchants are not permitted to have access to the records – Brand, Teirm's administrator of trade, is the only one with access."
"I can handle that when the time comes," Brom said. "But we need a few days of rest before we can think about making a move.
"My house is your home, of course. Do you have another name while you are here?"
Brom thought Jeod's question for a few minutes before answering. "Whilst in Teirm, you may call me Neal and these two are Evan and Markus."
Brom looked at Eragon and Daemon. "Could you two go check on the horses and make sure they're all right? I don't think I tied Snowfire to the ring tightly enough."
They're trying to hide something from us. Eragon said to Daemon as they left to check on the horses.
What else is new? Daemon replied dryly as they exited the building. Snowfire had not moved; the knot that held him was fine. Scratching the horses' necks, Eragon leaned sullenly against the castle wall.
"If only we knew someway to listen to what they are saying." Eragon said.
"Well, unless you know a form of magic to make you hear through walls, I got nothing." Daemon said with a shrug.
Eragon jolted upright, electrified. Brom had once taught him some words that would enhance his hearing. He told Daemon about this and the Dragonborn linked his mind with his friend's so he can listen in.
Eragon concentrated intensely and reached for his power. Once it was within his grasp, he said, "Thverr stenr un atra eka hórna!" and imbued the words with his will. As the power rushed out of him, he heard a faint whisper in his ears, but nothing more. Disappointed, he sank back, then started as Jeod said, "—and I've been doing that for almost eight years now."
Eragon glanced at Daemon, who nodded to let him know he was hearing the same thing as well.
"I never expected you to become a merchant," said Brom. "After all the time you spent in books. And finding the passageway in that manner! What made you take up trading instead of remaining a scholar?"
"After Gil'ead, I didn't have much taste for sitting in musty rooms and reading scrolls. I decided to help Ajihad as best I could, but I'm no warrior. My father was a merchant as well—you may remember that. He helped me get started. However, the bulk of my business is nothing more than a front to get goods into Surda."
"But I take it that things have been going badly," said Brom. "Yes, none of the shipments have gotten through lately, and Tronjheim is running low on supplies. Somehow the Empire—at least I think it's them—has discovered those of us who have been helping to support Tronjheim. But I'm still not convinced that it's the Empire. No one sees any soldiers. I don't understand it. Perhaps Galbatorix hired mercenaries to harass us."
"I heard that you lost a ship recently."
"The last one I owned," answered Jeod bitterly. "Every man on it was loyal and brave. I doubt I'll ever see them again... The only option I have left is to send caravans to Surda or Gil'ead—which I know won't get there, no matter how many guards I hire—or charter someone else's ship to carry the goods. But no one will take them now."
"How many merchants have been helping you?" asked Brom.
"Oh, a good number up and down the seaboard. All of them have been plagued by the same troubles. I know what you are thinking; I've pondered it many a night myself, but I cannot bear the thought of a traitor with that much knowledge and power. If there is one, we're all in jeopardy. You should return to Tronjheim."
"And take Eragon there?" interrupted Brom. "They'd tear him apart. It's the worst place he could be right now. Maybe in a few months or, even better, a year. Can you imagine how the dwarves will react? Everyone will be trying to influence him, especially Islanzadi. He and Saphira won't be safe in Tronjheim until I at least get them through tuatha du orothrim. And I don't even want to know how they'd react to Daemon."
"What's his story?" Jeod asked curiously.
"He's from Tamriel, has great power of his own." Brom said. "And there's been no one from Tariel here since the days of the Riders."
"Hmm..." Jeod hummed. "The Varden could are in need of your power and wisdom."
"Wisdom," snorted Brom. "I'm just what you said earlier—a crotchety old man."
"Many would disagree."
"Let them. I've no need to explain myself. No, Ajihad will have to get along without me. What I'm doing now is much more important. But the prospect of a traitor raises troubling questions. I wonder if that's how the Empire knew where to be..." His voice trailed off.
"And I wonder why I haven't been contacted about this," said Jeod.
"Maybe they tried. But if there's a traitor..." Brom paused. "I have to send word to Ajihad. Do you have a messenger you can trust?"
"I think so," said Jeod. "It depends on where he would have to go."
"I don't know," said Brom. "I've been isolated so long, my contacts have probably died or forgotten me. Could you send him to whoever receives your shipments?"
"Yes, but it'll be risky."
"What isn't these days? How soon can he leave?"
"He can go in the morning. I'll send him to Gil'ead. It will be faster," said Jeod. "What can he take to convince Ajihad the message comes from you?"
"Here, give your man my ring. And tell him that if he loses it, I'll personally tear his liver out. It was given to me by the queen."
"Aren't you cheery," commented Jeod.
Brom grunted. After a long silence he said, "We'd better go out and join the boys. I get worried when their alone. They have an unnatural propensity for being wherever there's trouble."
"Are you surprised?"
"Not really."
As they heard chains scraping, Eragon quickly stopped his spell and they acted normal when Brom and Jeod came out.
Jeod led them back through the streets of Teirm, an offered them lodging at his house. He took them out to a much nicer tavern for a meal, and as they were returning to the house, Eragon motioned for Jayden to wait. "You two go on ahead; there's something Daemon and I want to check on."
"Be careful, and don't take too long." Brom agreed absently.
"Wait," said Jeod. "Are you planning on going out of the city?" Eragon reluctantly nodded. "Make sure you are back before dark. The guards lock the gates then, and you won;t be able to enter until morning." They assured him that they wouldn't, then took off toward the gate they had first arrived through.
Saphira! Eragon called as he and Daemon ran out the city. Where are you? She guided them off the road, to the base of a mossy cliff surrounded by maples. They saw her head poke out of the trees on the top and waved.
How am we supposed to get up there? Daemon asked, eyeing the cliff.
If you find a clearing, I'll come down and get you.
No, Eragon said, eyeing the cliff, that won't be necessary. We'll just climb up. Daemon nodded and started climbing the wall easily.
It's too dangerous.
And you worry too much. Let us have some fun.
Eragon pulled off his gloves and started climbing after Daemon. They relished the physical challenge. There were plenty of handholds, so the ascent was easy. They were soon high above the trees. Halfway up, Eragon stopped on a ledge to catch his breath.
Daemon made it to the top first and moved over for Eragon to join them, but made sure he had view of his friend in case something happened.
Once his strength returned, Eragon stretched up for the next handhold, but his arm was not long enough. Stymied, he searched for another crevice or ridge to grasp, only to suddenly lose his footing and he began to fall. Quickly, a lightning pair of hands reached out and grabbed him before he fell to low. He looked to see Daemn leaning over the edge, holding his hands. Saphira was pinning Daemon's legs down so he didn't go falling with Eragon.
Having fun yet? Saphira asked with amusement.
Daemon pulled Eragon up and over onto the cliff with them while Saphira backed up a little to give them space. Eragon exhaled and gave them his thanks for his quick thinking. Saphira gently licked his cheek, Foolishness.
They sat together the three of them and studied the landscape. Saphira had chosen the perfect spot to hide; the only way she could been seen was if someone was above her position. Eragon recounted the day's events to her. Is Brom's friend trustworthy?
I don't know. Eragon shook his head. There are forces circling us that we aren't aware of. Sometimes I wonder if we can ever understand the true motives of the people around us. They all seem to have secrets.
It is the way of the world. Ignore all the schemes and trust in the nature of each person. Brom is good. He means us no harm. We don't have to fear his plans.
I hope so, he said, looking down at his hands.
This finding of the Ra'zac through writing is a strange way of tracking, she remarked. Would there be a way to use magic to see the records without being inside the room?
I'm not sure. You would have to combine the word for seeing with distance... or maybe light and distance. Either way, it seems rather difficult. I'll ask Brom.
That would be wise. They lapsed into tranquil silence.
You know, we may have to stay here awhile.
Saphira's answer held a hard edge. And as always, I will be left to wait outside.
Hey, you know we'll come and visit you every day. Can't forget our favourite dragoness. Daemon said playfully.
Saphira snorted and gave him a gentle nudge. I'm the only dragoness you know.
Eragon hugged her neck and smiled, Soon enough we will travel together again.
May that day come quickly.
It was then that they noticed how far the sun had set in the sky. We should go, Eragon told them, else we risk being locked out of the city. Hunt tomorrow, Saphira, and we will come visit you in the evening.
She spread her wings. Come, I will take you down. They got onto her back, and she gently launched off the cliff and glided to the ground below. As they thanked her and turned back to Teirm, she called after them. Daemon?
Yes? The Dragonborn stopped and looked at her.
Saphira paused for a moment before she spoke. Would you like to spend the day with me tomorrow? If we are going to be here for a few days, I could do with some company and you could do with a spread of your wings.
She sent him a mental image of himself in his dragon form to get the idea, and he smiled. Sure, I'll be happy to. Wanted to try and get a chance to transform, might as well take any opportunity.
I look forward to it. Saphira hummed and they bade each other goodnight before Daemon ran to catch up with Eragon.
They made it back to Teirm in time and went to Jeod's house, where Brom told them they'll be planning on how to get into the offices of the person who kept the records to try and track down the Ra'zac. It was then that Eragon revealed he didn't know how to read. Although this set Brom's plans back considerably, he agreed to teach the young man how to read.
They conversed for a long time, until they could feel the grip of tiredness start to take hold and Brom called it a night, telling Eragon and Daemon to get some sleep. The butler showed them to their shared room with two prepared beds, and they readied to fall asleep. As Daemon laid on his bed, not bothering to undress or have a change of clothes since he liked wearing his Nightingale armour more, he started to think about what Saphira said to him, her offer to spend the day with her in his dragon form.
"Eragon." He suddenly said.
"Yes, Daemon?" Eragon looked at him.
"Do... do you mind if I spend the day with Saphira tomorrow? She wants me to go flying with her." Daemon said.
"Of course I don't mind, Daemon. Why would I?" Eragon asked with a frown. "You're close to Saphira and I, like family, remember?"
Daemon sighed and pushed himself up. "You are Rider and dragon, Eragon, a bond greater than anything. I may feel like a third wheel at times, but I don't want to intrude on that bond between you."
"Daemon, Daemon..." Eragon chuckled as he attempted to put his friend's worries at ease. "We do not think of you like that, you are far from a third wheel. You are part of me and Saphira's bond." He pointed to the scar on Daemon's right arm. "And that is proof. We're like family. And family sticks together, no third wheels or anything like that. And Saphira likes you, she likes spending time with you, whether you're human or dragon. I can feel how much it makes her happy, especially at the chance of being around another dragon."
Daemon couldn't help but smiles at Eragon's words. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. I'll admit, you've come to be like a brother to me."
"And I consider you the same... brother."
That's it for this chapter. Time to get some Daemon/Saphira stuff underway in the next chapter.