Chapter 18

'It is done,' Eragon said, tearing his gaze away from the pile of ash. Ironically, the flower of immortality proved to be astonishingly easy to destroy. After the flames devoured it, Eragon stared at its remains suspiciously for a while, hesitant to believe that a fire spell was all that had been required.

He turned to Arya uncertainly. 'Should we get rid of the ashes as well? Perhaps they also have magical properties?'

Arya glanced at the ash doubtfully, but agreed, 'I suppose we can't be too careful.' She emptied her flask of its contents and moved past Eragon to kneel on the ground by the remains of Seleara. 'This will have to do as a container for the ash,' she explained. 'I suggest we throw it into Tüdosten Lake when we pass it.'

Eragon nodded in agreement. The Varden had begun its march on Uru'baen, and the lake lay in their path. The thought that he would soon be rid of Seleara entirely brought Eragon immense relief – it meant that he had one less problem to deal with.

Murtagh's first impulse was to stab the guard in the face. He couldn't have chosen a more inconvenient time to show up, declaring that he was told to escort Murtagh to Galbatorix urgently.

Medea looked at Murtagh, raising an eyebrow in silent question, but he knew no more than she did. He had expected Galbatorix to summon her, as she was the last person who spoke to Sared – given the king's obsession with Seleara, he would probably want to know if Sared said anything to her about the flower's whereabouts before he died. Undoubtedly, Galbatorix knew what caused Sared's death; he once showed Murtagh a book which described - in gruesome detail - the result of the withdrawal of Seleara. Still, even this was unlikely to persuade the king to abandon his search.

'But do you remember, you told me that the book said he would age and die gradually?' Thorn said suddenly. 'And he didn't.'

'Nothing else could have done that to him, Thorn. The book must have been wrong about this.'

As Murtagh followed the guard down the corridor, his thoughts drifted to another topic. He had to acknowledge that it was a good thing that the man came when he did, interrupting… whatever that was. This was exactly why he had tried to stay away from Medea. 'All I had to do was walk her to her room and what the blazes did I end up doing?!'
Thorn remained tactfully silent.

When Murtagh saw the corpse of the man he hated, his only thought was that Medea didn't belong to Sared anymore. She didn't belong to him, either, and she never would, as long as Galbatorix lived. But Murtagh would no longer be consumed by rage at the idea of someone else having her, and at the time it almost seemed enough.

But when he saw his own yearning reflected in her gaze, felt the closeness of her body, heard her voice dripping with resentment at the mention of Nasuada, betraying her jealousy – the same jealousy that he used to feel… he knew it was not enough, and the thought pushed all remaining reason out of his mind.

'Stop it, you damn fool, stop thinking about it!'

Murtagh forced himself to think of his promise to Nasuada. He said he would help her, and that should have been his priority. It was a tentative attempt to earn some redemption for the things he had done at Galbatorix's command, a chance to relieve his guilt for the harm he had caused Nasuada.
Even if he and Thorn were doomed to be enslaved by Galbatorix until the end of their days, Murtagh would try to save Nasuada from sharing the same fate. He thought he had the means to do it, but he also needed an opportunity.

Not too long ago, Murtagh never would have risked his life – or Thorn's – for a stranger. Much had changed. He sometimes recalled Medea saying he was better than that. Her words had a bigger impact than she knew.

The guard who was accompanying Murtagh stopped at the door of the throne room, leaving him to go in alone.

Shruikan raised his head at Murtagh's approach, letting out a low growl. He seemed more agitated than usual, continuously bringing his enormous tail down on the floor in what seemed like irritation. Galbatorix's spells seem to have been the only thing preventing the dragon from crushing it.

Galbatorix's mood appeared to mirror that of his dragon. His black-clad figure was illuminated by the the lanterns, his face contorted with rage. When Murtagh approached, the king raised his head, fixating his hard stare on the Rider. 'Seleara has been destroyed.'

Murtagh was not expecting that. He opened his mouth to speak but Galbatorix silenced him with a gesture. 'Nothing else could have killed Sared. Death caused by withdrawal would have been different. No, it must have been destroyed. Sared told me that the Varden had it, but the girl would not talk... I could have sworn that she knew nothing. I assumed that Sared was lying to me.'

'Perhaps the Varden found Seleara only recently, sir,' Murtagh said evenly, attempting to inconspicuously divert the king's anger from Nasuada.

'Or perhaps the wench's lies have cost me my immortality!' Galbatorix bellowed, making Shruikan's head snap up again. The dragon snarled irritably at Murtagh, clearly thinking that his master's anger was directed at the Rider. 'I believe it is time for another visit to our guest,' Galbatorix spat out the word, making it sound like an insult. 'I would like to express my... disappointment in her.'

Murtagh knew all too well what that meant.

At first Medea waited, perched tensely on the edge of her bed, expecting Murtagh to come back and explain what was going on. And possibly to continue their…conversation. It left her with even more questions, and she could not answer them herself. The little patience she had soon wore thin, however.

'Typical!' she complained out loud. Normally Barbale would serve as her unenthusiastic audience, but Barbale wasn't there. 'It wouldn't be Murtagh if he didn't drive me INSANE!'

A guard poked his head into the room, looking slightly disturbed. 'Is everything all right, my lady?'

'YES!' Medea shouted back, and the door closed quickly.

She didn't see Murtagh for the rest of the day. When she attempted to leave the room, she found that she could not. 'The king's orders,' the guard on duty told her gruffly.

'What is the reason for these orders?' Medea demanded.

'No reason was given, my lady.'

The only thing Medea could do was to go back to her room and slam the door.

Galbatorix had never kept her locked in a room before, and she wondered briefly if it was because he suspected her of being responsible for Sared's death, but dismissed the idea – if he was told of the manner of the Prince's death, surely he understood that Medea could not have caused it. This was about something else.

Days passed without her seeing anyone except servants. Once, Medea thought she heard Murtagh's voice outside, but he left without speaking to her. She wondered if he was forbidden to see her or if he chose not to.

This continued until one morning she was woken by the sound of a horn.
The signal of alarm.

A.N.: Eragon's trip to the Vault of Souls takes place off stage, after he destroys Seleara. Murtagh and Nasuada's relationship differs from how it was in the book, and I hope it still makes sense that he would want to help her.