Free Riders
Author's Note: Eragon is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.
Chapter 17: The Clue
Eragon huffed away towards the trees. Before he reached them, his foot struck something hard. Blaster could hear it from where he sat, but said nothing. About a minute later, Eragon returned with a metal flask with a leather strap long enough to sling the flask over one's shoulder. On the flask was a silver insignia, the same insignia as that of the Ra'zac.
"Look what I found," Eragon said. Brom took the flask and examined it. He poured a little bit of the clear liquid into the cap, and a cloying smell filled the air, similar to the smell that emanated from Garrow's farm, though Blaster had barely noted it. Blaster was about to put his finger in when Eragon warned, "Watch out, it'll burn—"
"Our skin, I know," Brom said. Blaster quickly withdrew his hand as if he had touched an electrified pole. He managed to save his finger. "And I suppose you went ahead and poured it all over your hand." He noticed Eragon's finger, a patch of skin eaten away. "Your finger? Well, at least you showed some sense enough not to drink it. Only a puddle would have been left of you."
"That's rather enjoyable," Blaster said. "Do you know what it is?"
"Oil from the petals of the Seithr plant," Brom said, "which grows on a small island in the frigid northern seas. In its natural state, the oil is used for preserving pears—it makes them lustrous and strong. But when specific words are spoken over the oil, along with a blood sacrifice, it gains the property to eat any flesh. That alone wouldn't make it special, as there are plenty of acids that can dissolve sinew and bone, except that this leaves everything else untouched. You can dip anything into the oil and pull it out unharmed, unless it was once part of an animal or human. This makes it the weapon of choice for torture and assassination. It can be stored in wood, slathered on the point of a spear, or dripped onto sheets so that the next person to touch them will be burned. There are a myriad of uses for it, limited only by your ingenuity. Any injury caused by it is always slow to heal. It's rather rare and expensive, especially this converted form."
"And this is what they used on Garrow?" Blaster asked.
"Very likely," Brom said.
"Well, I'll be darned," Blaster said. "They just went from manslaughter to murder in the first degree."
"I wonder why the Ra'zac left it behind if it's so valuable," Eragon mused.
"It must have slipped off when they flew away," Brom said.
"But why not come back for it?" Eragon asked. "I doubt that the king will be pleased if they lost it."
"No, he won't," Brom replied. "But, he would be even more displeased if they delayed bringing him news of you two. In fact, if the Ra'zac have reached him by now, you can be sure that the king has learned of your names. And that means we will have to be much more careful when we go into towns. There will be notices and alerts about you posted throughout the Empire." Eragon paused to think.
"This oil, how rare is it exactly?" the boy asked.
"Like diamonds in a pig trough," Brom replied. He amended himself a few seconds later, saying, "Actually, the normal oil is used by jewelers, but only those who can afford it."
"So, there is ample trade in this oil?" Blaster asked.
"Perhaps one, maybe two," Brom admitted.
"And the cities along the coast," Blaster added. "Do they not keep shipping records?"
"Of course they do," Brom said, his eyes brightening. "If we could get to those records, they would tell us who brought the oil south, and where it went from there."
"And the record of the Empire's purchases will tell us where the Ra'zac live!" Eragon concluded. "I don't know how many people can afford this oil, but it shouldn't be hard to figure out which ones aren't working for the Empire."
"Genius!" Brom exclaimed, smiling. "I wish I had thought of this years ago; it would have saved me many headaches. The coast is dotted with numerous cities and towns where ships can land. I suppose that Teirm would be the place to start, as it controls most of the trade." Brom paused. "The last I heard, my old friend Jeod lives there. We haven't seen each other for many years, but he might be willing to help us. And because he's a merchant, it's possible that he has access to those records."
"Well, then it's settled," Blaster said. "We head to Teirm. But there is just one thing. How do we get there?"
"We'll have to go southwest until we reach a high pass in the Spine. Once on the other side, we can head up the coast to Teirm," Brom said.
"Can we reach the pass within a week?" Eragon asked.
"Easily," Brom assured. "If we angle away from the Ninor and to our right, we might be able to see the mountains by tomorrow."
Eragon went over to Saphira and mounted her. "I'll see you at dinner, then." He took off with Saphira, leaving Brom and Blaster on the ground.
"I will ride as well," Blaster said, "but I will ride Samson tomorrow. What better way to continue my training in the ancient language. It'll give Sara enough time to hunt."
"I feel it is a good idea," Brom said.
I agree, Sara said. Blaster smiled before he climbed up onto the silver dragon. She took to the skies seconds later.
That night, Eragon was pleased that his legs didn't hurt, the saddle protecting him from Saphira's scales. The nightly fight lacked energy, with everyone preoccupied with the day's events. By the time Eragon and Blaster finished, Eragon's arms burned, the result of Zar'roc's weight.
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Char woke from her meditations around nightfall. She opened her eyes to see the red-eyed redhead staring at her from the other side of the bars. She groaned to herself as she slowly stood up. How many times must this stupid Shade try to get answers out of me? she wondered to herself. The Shade hadn't been gentle in his interrogation, her arms were bruised and her clothes were ripped.
"What do you want now?" Char said, coldly.
"Your true name," the Shade replied. "And where we can find the elven city, Ellesmera."
"It's Charlotte Amaturie," Char replied. Her anger was rising. "At least until my fiancé finally sets a date for our marriage."
The Shade smirked and laughed sharply. "That isn't it. And you do have an interesting mind, my dear." He thought to him self. "Perhaps I should be more direct. What is your name?"
"I told you," Char replied. "Char…"
"No, not that one!" The Shade hissed. "If you were any dumber, you'd have rocks for brains."
"I see," Char replied. Reluctantly, she caved. "Ga santora vedron. The super woman."
"Interesting," the Shade mused.
"And yours?" Char asked.
"My name doesn't matter to one in your position," the Shade replied. "Not that it would mean anything to you."
"Bah," Char laughed. "I doubt I would find much use in your rarely used name. What I mean is I want to know your name. Your everyday name. I want to know who I am dealing with, especially since I never asked when you first interrogated me."
"We are Durza," the Shade replied.
"Nice to meet you, Durza," Char said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to get some rest before your friends start torturing me again about a place I have no clue about."
"But I will be the one to…interrogate you tomorrow morning," Durza replied. "But, I have one question right now. What language did you speak in, because I am sure that 'Ga' is not a word in the ancient language."
"It is of an ancient language that you would not understand," Char said. "Oh, it has a name, but such a name spoken would cause grown men to weep, and devils like your self would cower in fear before it. I will give you the name, but its true name is hidden, only known by the keeper of the language."
"And what is its name?" Durza demanded.
"Torillian," Char said. "And you won't find the keeper of the language, because he died long ago, in a place far from your gazing eyes."
"We shall talk again tomorrow," Durza said. "Once you get what little rest you can. I would rather enjoy learning where the elven cities are, and discussing your name in much greater detail."
When Durza left, Char went over to her cot, muttering, "Good luck." She wasn't happy with the situation, but resigned herself to continue trying alternate means of getting out. Since day one, she'd been trying to contact Alice, only to receive static on her wrist computer. In fact, almost everything on her wrist computer didn't work. Thinking it was the magic of the world interfering, she lied down on her cot.
Where ARE you, Blaster? Char asked herself. Arya and I are getting to our last legs. She looked over to the next cell where Arya, the elf she was with, lay. She's doing worse than I, but that's only because of my accelerated healing. We might not make it to see the end of the year. Then, she thought about one of the active programs on her wrist computer. She activated the program, and calmed herself.
"First Officer's log: 22 April 2030. I have lost track of how many days I have been incarcerated here. Wherever here is. The Shade leader has learned one of my many other names, but, thankfully, not the one that will give the Shade power over me. If he can gain power over me. Torillian languages might be a little hard to pronounce. As for the other programs on my wrist computer, I believe the magic is still interfering with communications, and I have yet to contact Alice or Blaster. I will continue to try in the hopes that the interference can be removed. Further interrogations tomorrow. If anyone should find this recording, find Blaster and give it to him. He'll know what to do. End Log."
She relaxed a bit and started to drift off to sleep, waiting for the day when Blaster would come to rescue her.
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A couple of days after they changed their course, Brom, Eragon, Saphira, Sara, and Blaster had managed to arrive in the foothills of the Spine. They followed the mountains south, Eragon ecstatic that he had a comfortable boundary next to him. Three days after that, they came upon a wide road rutted by the wheels of wagons.
"This is the main road between the capital, Urû'baen, and Teirm," Brom said. "It's widely used and a favorite route for merchants. We have to be more cautious. This isn't the busiest time of the year, but a few people are bound to be using the road."
The days continued to pass quickly as they searched for the mountain pass. Boredom was almost non existent, as Brom kept the two busy between the elven language, practicing magic, and caring for their dragons. Eragon soon learned to hunt using magic, shooting small rocks like bullets. They never missed. The resulting kills were roasted over the fire each night. After dinner, Blaster and Eragon would spar with their swords and, in some instances, fists.
The long days and the strenuous workload had stripped Eragon of his excess fat. His arms became corded, and lean muscles rippled his tanned skin. It amused Blaster, who was already lean, and rippling with muscles, that Eragon had grown so much in so little time.
When they finally reached the pass, they saw a river rushing out of it, cutting across the road.
"This is the Toark," Brom explained. "We'll follow it to the sea."
"How can we?" Eragon laughed. "Especially 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 his ring and said, "Because in the middle of the mountain 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 goes to the sea."
After two days in the Spine, they came to a rock ledge from which they could clearly see out of the mountains. Eragon noticed how the land flattened in the distance, and groaned at the many leagues they still had to traverse. Blaster was just as happy, wishing he could just run there, but neglecting to do so in order to keep his superhuman speed secret.
"Down there and to the north lies Teirm," Brom said, pointing. "It's 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 until noon the next day to descend through the foothills and arrive at the other side of the Spine. Here, the forested land quickly leveled out. Without mountains to hide behind, Saphira and Sara flew close to the ground, using every hollow, dip, and gulley in the land to conceal themselves.
Beyond the forest, the air changed, the countryside became covered in a soft turf and heather that their feet sank into. Moss grew on the stones and branches, as well as along the banks of streams that laced the ground. Pools of mud pocketed the road where horses had trampled the dirt. It wasn't long before the human trio were splattered with grime.
"Why is everything green here?" Eragon asked, curiously. "Do they have winter here?"
"Yes, but the season is mild," Brom replied. "Fog and mist roll in from the sea and keep everything alive. Some find it to their liking, but to me, it's dreary and depressing."
They set up camp that night on the driest spot they managed to find. While eating, Brom commented, "You should ride your horses until we reach Teirm. It's likely that we'll meet other travelers now that we are out of the Spine, and it will be better if the two of you were with me. An old man traveling alone will raise suspicion, especially if he's bringing along two horses in full tack. With you two 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?" Eragon asked. Brom thought for a moment.
"We won't be able to deceive Jeod," Brom said. "He already knows my name, and I think I trust him with yours. But to everyone else, I will be Neal, and you, Eragon, will be my nephew Evan."
"And I will be the son of a family friend, Brian," Blaster said.
"And, if our tongues slip," Brom continued, "and we give ourselves 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 really shouldn't."
Where is Jeod's house? How much longer before Blaster heads off in search of Char? Will they finally find the Ra'zac? Find out next time on Free Riders.
I have received word that Blaster seems to be too overpowered in certain respects. To set the record straight on a number of things, 1) Blaster doesn't sleep at night, but he still needs to rest and restore his energy, so instead of sleeping, he meditates. 2) Blaster is an alien who was born on earth, leaving to travel the universe. He's had some education, but not to the point of knowing everything at all times. 3) Blaster is a skilled swordsman because he trained to be one both in his realm and in some parallel realms. 4) The accelerated healing is a side-effect of the alien gene both he and Char have (Since I know she'll probably get crap now because she is quoted to be having said ability), but it doesn't protect them fully, and they can die, but they try to avoid it at all costs, like every other living being.
That being said, please R&R, and no destructive criticism please. Thanks.