Chapter Forty-Six: Revelations

"You called?"

"Kieran, this girl shall be your opponent this afternoon." Galbatorix said simply, walking back to his chair near Murtagh.

Mariah blinked, staring at the woman who had just walked around the corner. She appeared older than herself, probably on the low end of twenty. Her long brown hair was twisted into a pristine braid. When she spoke her voice sounded like it was dripping with silver, heavy and lustful but shining at the same time.

"The child hardly looks like a match; tell me, what are her qualifications?"

"This girl is a Rider, Kieran. I think she's a contest to your own skills, from what I've seen so far."

"She's the Rider you were going on about?" Kieran looked her over slowly through burning midnight blue eyes. "I don't see what's so special about her… but we'll have to see about that." She moved her gaze back to Murtagh. "It's a pleasure to see you again, I'm sorry our reunion requires a little bloodshed on your companion's behalf but I can assure you this won't take but a minute." He stared back at her, biting his tongue.

Mariah stared at her, standing there in a black and silver armored outfit that she could only think resembled Arya's. There was a Rider's sword at her waist.

"I see you've spotted my weapon," Kieran mused, drawing the blade. "Isn't she gorgeous?" The silver sword had a large opal set into the hilt. "Her name is Eirian… I believe she belonged to an Elvish Rider called Fëanáro…" Her eyes glittered towards Mariah. "I hope you aren't intimidated by her."

"On the contrary… I think your blade is much too pretty to be of any threat."

Kieran watched her for a minute, "We'll just have to see about that, won't we?" Her smile turned feral and she leaped towards Mariah with astounding speed. The sword caught her shoulder, ripping through her skin and muscles with the finality of a razor.

She jumped backwards, clutching the wound and panting.

"As you regain your breath, let me speak with you…" Kieran leaned against her blade, unconcerned and flipped her left hand up, palm facing the sky. With her other hand, she peeled off her black gloves and smiled, flashing a silver circle of skin at Mariah. "I'm intrigued by your presence here… because I never thought I would witness another female Rider. You're certainly not what I expected. When we received news that two dragons were wandering about Alagaësia, I had immediately suspected they were both hatched for male Riders. It is so rare, for some reason, for females to be the ones to fight. We are expected to be quiet, well mannered, sew and clean and do every male's bidding; to bear as many children as our husband desires and become good mothers. Women were never meant to fight. Yet here we stand, swords in hand, bleeding – well… one of us. Stepped from legend when our dragons chose us… out of all the males in the world, they chose you and me. What makes you so special that you would be given this glorious gift? You are nothing but a poor peasant girl. It's understandable that the daughter of Galbatorix, crown princess of Alagaësia would become a Rider… not you. You are weak… and pathetic. I see no reason for you to be here… prove me wrong."

She lunged at her again and Mariah gasped, bringing her sword up and blocking. Glancing down, Mariah saw the dagger at her hip hidden beside her sword's sheath. Dropping her grip on her sword, she forced Kieran to stumble forward, lashing towards the knife. It slipped from its sheath and tightened in her palm. Twisting, Mariah pounced on her and pinned her to the ground, jamming the dagger in her shoulder; turning the blade sharply and digging it deeper until she felt it hit the stone beneath her. The princess cried out in paint and kicked Mariah off. The girl dashed for the silver sword and rolled on the ground, springing back onto her feet and turning around to face the princess.

Kieran stood slowly and glared at her.

"I don't care if you're a goddess or a beggar woman; no one speaks of my upbringing in such a loathsome way. I couldn't be more proud of where I came from. If you wish to continue this fight, I must warn you that you're going to lose."

The princess ripped the dagger from her shoulder and healed it herself, watching Mariah. "You were right father, she is proud, isn't she? If her dragon is anything like she is, he would prove a good mate for Nasreen."

Galbatorix nodded, "As I told you before. You doubted me?"

"Never father, I merely wanted to see her for myself. I wish to have my blade back." Kieran added.

"Mariah, give her back the sword." He insisted, looking over at the younger girl.

She stared between them, her lips parted in shock and surprise. "I…" Mariah set her jaw and threw the sword down on the ground towards Kieran. The princess looked at her with a sneer and retrieved her blade.

"Very good, now that you have been properly tested, we must figure out what to do about your unrelenting spirit." Galbatorix mused for a moment. "Since your mind is so broken that I dare not step foot inside it - swear your fealty to me and you may go to your new quarters."

Mariah shook her head, "I refuse to swear fealty to you or anyone... my life is my own and I shall defend it."

"Must we go through this again?" He flicked his hand towards Murtagh, who flinched. "Though you may not obey, you will defend him, will you not?" Swallowing, she realized there would be no choice in the matter. "Good… now, kneel before me and swear your fealty."

She walked to him slowly, staring at him. Galbatorix flicked his eyes at the ground and she slowly sank to her knee. Mariah took a deep breath and spoke, "I – Mariah, Drag-"

"In the Ancient Language."

Her eyes widened and she stared at the stone floor, mind reeling for a way out of this. From what Brom had told her about Galbatorix in his stories and not, the man had a nearly complete mastery of the Ancient Language. He did not, Brom suspected, know that spells could be cast silently. That didn't help her though, this wasn't a spell. Not in the normal way, at least. Mark would know what to do. What would he do? She glanced at Murtagh and blinked. He was staring at her, clearly concerned. There was no way out and he knew it.

"I'm waiting."

Mariah took a quiet breath, closing her eyes, feeling her soul draining away. "Vel eïnradhin pömnuria ai Shur'tugal, eka malthinae pömnuria líf eom ono un celöbra ono, ebrithil. Pömnuria líf onr thelduin."

"Eragon," Nasuada said simply, neither friendly nor hostile. Beside her, Mark was looking over a map, his glasses slowly sliding down to the tip of his nose. "I have spent the last few days reviewing the Varden's affairs, such as they are. It was a dismal exercise. We are poor, over-extended, and low on supplies, and few recruits are joining us from the Empire. I mean to change that."

Without looking up, Mark added, "With the dwarves suffering from their own losses, we can't expect them to support us much longer." He placed his finger on the map and looked up at Eragon, "Nasuada has decided to move the Varden to Surda. I'm in full agreement."

"It's a difficult proposition, but one I believe necessary to keep us safe. Once in Surda, we will finally be close enough to engage the Empire directly."

Eragon stared at them, "I thought King Orrin didn't dare openly oppose Galbatorix."

"After our recent victory over the Urgals, he has since change his mind."

"He will shelter and feed us and fight by our side. Many Varden are already in Surda, mainly women and children who couldn't or wouldn't fight," she said. "They will also support us, else I will strip our name from them."

"How did you communicate with King Orrin so quickly?" Eragon asked.

"The dwarves use a system of mirrors and lanterns to relay messages through their tunnels. They can send a dispatch from here t o the western edge of the Beor Mountains in less than a day. Couriers then transport it to Aberon, capital of Surda. Fast as it is, that method is still too slow when Galbatorix can surprise us with an Urgal army and give us less than a day's notice. I intend to arrange something far more expedient between Du Vrangr Gata and Hrothgar's magicians before we go."

Mark was looking back at the map, "Probably some form of scrying… which reminds me. Remember to mention that to me later, I have something to tell you. Not that I don't want you over hearing Nasuada, but I know you have more important things to attend to."

"Thank you, I wasn't concerned." Nasuada said, opening the desk drawer and removing a thick scroll. "The Varden will depart Farthen Dûr within the month. Hrothgar has agreed to provide us with safe passage through the tunnels. Moreover, he sent a force to Orthiad to remove the last vestiges of Urgals and seal the tunnels so no one can invade the dwarves by that route again. As this may not be enough to guarantee the Varden's survival, I have a favor to ask of you."

Eragon nodded. "I am yours to command."

Mark smirked a bit, saying nothing.

"Perhaps." Her eyes flicked to Saphira for a second. "In any case, this is not a command, and I want you to think carefully before replying. To help rally support for the Varden, I wish to spread word throughout the Empire that a new Rider – named Eragon Shadeslayer – and his dragon, Saphira, have joined our cause. I would like your permission before doing so, however."

After a moment of silent discussion with Saphira, Eragon nodded, "Do what you see fit. If this is how we can best assist the Varden, so be it."

"Thank you. I know it is a lot to ask. Now, as we discussed before the funeral, I expect you to travel to Ellesméra and complete your training."

"With Arya?"

"Of course. The elves have refused contact with both humans and dwarves ever since she was captured. Arya is the only being who can convince them to emerge from seclusion."

"Couldn't she use magic to tell them of her rescue?"

"No," Mark said, pausing with his map searching again, "The elves, since the fall of the Riders, have placed wards around Du Weldenvarden that prevents anything from entering it through arcane means – thoughts, items or people – though not from exiting it. That is why Arya could send the dragon eggs out of the forest. In order for any communication to the elves, one must physically visit them. Scrying will not work, because of its magical nature. Queen Islanzadí will not know Arya is still alive until she arrives in person. She will not even know of your existence or anything else that has happened since her capture by Durza. There's probably going to be a lot of questioning, so you should prepare yourself."

Nasuada handed him the scroll, stamped with a wax sigil. "This is a missive for Queen Islanzadí, telling her about the Varden's situation and my own plans. Guard it with your life; it would cause a great deal of harm in the wrong hands. I hope that after all that's happened, Islanzadí will feel kindly enough toward us to reinitiate diplomatic ties. Her assistance could mean the difference between victory and defeat. Arya knows this and has agreed to press our case, but I wanted you aware of the situation too, so you could take advantage of any opportunities that might arise."

Eragon tucked the scroll into his jerkin. "When will we leave?"

"Tomorrow morning… unless you have something already planned?"

"No."

"Good," she clasped her hands. "You should know, one other person will be traveling with you." Eragon blinked and looked at Mark who shook his head. "King Hrothgar insisted that in the interest of fairness there should be a dwarf representative present at your training, since it affects their race as well. So he's sending Orik along."

At the look on Eragon's face, Mark shook his head. "You must understand the situation. I know you wish to arrive as fast as possible and three cannot possibly hope to ride Saphira. You'll just have to be patient… think of it as part of your training Eragon. Please."

"I suppose we have to placate Hrothgar. To tell the truth, I'm glad Orik is coming. Crossing Alagaesia with only Arya was a rather daunting prospect. She's…"

Mark chuckled, "We know. She's different."

The Rider grew serious again after a smile, "Do you really mean to attack the Empire? You said yourself that the Varden are weak. It doesn't seem like the wisest course. If we wait-"

"If we wait, Eragon, Galbatorix will be prepared. Right now, he shouldn't be expecting an attack. He will be concerned that the Varden managed to defeat his forces. The Empire is vulnerable. Should the Varden attack now, his armies won't have time to be readied for invasion." Mark said to him, taking his glasses off.

"And… how do you plan to kill Galbatorix when he flies out to obliterate the army with magic?"

Mark chortled, "That won't happen."

"What makes you so sure," Eragon crossed his arms.

"Because Eragon," Mark said, "In any story that Brom ever made me memorize, any history lesson about the Rider War… Galbatorix never fought unless needed. He would much rather sit on his throne and watch the world tear itself apart; we are ants that he doesn't want to bother wasting the energy to squish. No, not until the day when we march on his castle in Urû'baen and confront him in his throne room will he fight."

"You haven't answered Saphira's question."

Mark looked up at the dragoness and shook his head. "By the time that day comes, our hopes are that you will be powerful enough to defeat him…. that the elves have joined us and their spellcasters aid in our fight. Even if we fail now, we have to try… by not challenging him now, we lay down our swords and submit. I'm not willing to do that, not now."

"But what of you Nasuada?" Asked Eragon, "Will you be safe while we're gone? O must think of my vow. It's become my responsibility to ensure that you won't have your own funeral soon."

Her jaw tightened and Mark turned his gaze to look at her, "You needn't fear, I am well defended." She looked toward the door, motioning to the guards. "I will admit… one reason for going to Surda is that Orrin knows me of old and will offer his protection. I cannot tarry here with you and Arya gone and the Council of Elders still with power. They won't accept me as their leader until I prove beyond doubt that the Varden are under my control, not theirs."

"It's also one reason I'm staying Eragon," Mark told him, "As I said before, I will be of more use here than with you in Ellesméra, simply waiting for you to complete your training. Worrying about Nasuada's safety is one thing you do not need to do. I guard her with my life."

Nasuada picked up her gaze and looked toward Eragon, "Go no. Ready your horse, gather supplies, and be at the north gate by dawn."

The Rider bowed low to her and left with Saphira.

When the door closed, Nasuada looked to Mark, "Are you sure you don't wish to go with him? You wish to see Ellesméra, I know this. Now would be the time to go."

"The time to spend time running across Alagaësia for my own enjoyment will be after this war." He assured her, meeting her gaze. "Not before. I want to stay here with you and help any way I can. Would you like to go over the plans again, one final time before we begin preparing the Varden?"

She shook her head, "We've planned enough."

"If you're certain then, I'll be going…"

"Meet me here later and we'll dine together. I'm tired of not having company and conversation over my meals."

"As you wish," he said, nodding and heading out. The guards parted for him and he shook his head a bit, assuming he'd never get used to that. Mark strode down the staircase in Tronjheim to the surrounding city and mindlessly walked around the streets. A few people seemed to recognize him, or think they did, most simply avoided bumping into him as they went about their day.

Within a month's time everyone here would be packing their homes and traveling to Surda. The traveling would be long and slow, though everyone would be well protected during the first leg of the journey through the dwarves' tunnel system. Since arriving in Tronjheim, his bad Dwarvish was improving, but he was still nowhere near able to carry on a full conversation; Mark made a mental note to find someone willing to teach him more.

Not even realizing why, he ended up standing at the door to a small shop. He blinked and looked over, seeing a woman staring at him. There was a cat curled up on the floor beside her.

"You look familiar," she said, blinking. "I think I once met an elf who looked like you."

"I doubt that," Mark told her, turning around.

"Oh don't leave now; we were just starting our conversation." The woman stood and walked into her store. He blinked, watching her and followed, mostly just curious as to whether or not she was sane. "Where did I put it? Oh, here." She pulled a small glass orb from a drawer and set it on the counter where it floated about an inch from the surface. Swirling around inside it was a faint green glow. "I believe you will find this useful."

"…what is it?" He asked, not touching it yet, looking back at her.

"I have no idea," she said to him brightly.

Mark blinked at the curly brown haired woman dubiously. She must be insane. "Who are you?"

"Angela."

"Well Angela… if I don't know what it does, I don't want it."

"Think it's going to kill you then? Bring bad luck? Doom you?"

"Yes," he said, "It might. You don't even know yourself."

"Ah, but it hasn't killed me yet, so the chances of it harming you are… twelve percent at best."

"Twelve percent exactly?" He smirked a bit.

She nodded. "Take it with you. And don't worry about dropping it – it'll hover over any solid surface… not water though… doesn't much like floating over water."

Mark sighed and took the orb, examining it. The green spinning glow inside was intriguing enough, but the detail work on the glass and silver band around it was intricate. He couldn't make out the letters, they were so small. Reaching for his glasses, he paused, remembering he'd left them in Nasuada's office. "Fine… what do you want for it?"

"It's free Marcus, don't worry about payment."

"I must give you something," he insisted, looking back at the woman.

"Well there is the matter of that potion your sister stole from me in Teirm…" she tapped her lip and he blinked. "Ah, I have it." She said, pointing at him, "I must say it quietly though, wouldn't want wandering ears to catch what I have to say." He sighed and leaned toward her. "I want to kiss an elf."

Mark didn't have time to move before she kissed him. He blinked and stood back up as she cackled. "What?"

"I said it before, didn't I? I once met an elf who looked like you. Now take your green glowing orb and depart. I'm sure you have much to do before Eragon leave in the morning." Angela said to him.

He stared at her, unnerved and watched her walk into the back of her shop. The cat sitting on the counter stared at him a moment before meowing loudly and following the woman. Tucking the orb in the gold pouch at his waist, he headed back for Tronjheim quickly, stopping only when the door to his room was shut and magically locked behind him.

Mark pulled the orb back out and stared at it. The glow had calmed back down and seemed to thicken and form smoke instead of light. "Draumr kópa," he said. The fog solidified into a smooth, glassy disk. A reflection flickered across it as he stared. Eyes that were familiar, like his own, but green. After a brief moment, the orb flickered and dimmed, turning back into green smoke. He went to set the glass down on the table in his room when the light caught the silver around it. "The sun's setting..." He blinked, "I'm supposed to meet with Nasuada. Damnit." Mark stood, hurrying from the room back up the stairs to her office.

The next morning, Mark was waiting at the stables for Eragon, leaning against the open door frame. He flicked his gaze up to the Rider as he approached and pushed off the wall, standing in front of him. "I want you to take Snowfire."

"What? I can't… no, Mark. I couldn't possibly."

"Take him. Not Cadoc. Snowfire is a war horse; he is bold and strong spirited. Cadoc is better off staying and pulling wagons. He isn't as well suited to travel as Snowfire. Please take him with you."

Eragon stared up at him for a moment and finally nodded. Then he shook his head, "He's Mariah horse."

"He's not doing her any good, now is he?" Mark asked rhetorically. "I'd take him myself but Aluora is already mine. I already saddled Snowfire for you anyway."

"Thank you…" he said quietly, going and getting the stallion, leading him out by the reins. He stopped them in the street, looking at Mark.

He sighed and walked to him, setting a hand on his shoulder. "Stay safe. There's nothing I'll be able to do to protect you from now on. You cannot rely on Arya or Orik either. You are alone, know that and keep it in mind. I can't have you dying too."

Eragon stared at him, looking downward. It was the first time either of them had actually said it aloud and it hurt. He didn't dare reach up and wipe at his eyes as they started tearing up.

Mark heard him sniffled a bit and shook his head, pulling him into a hug. It was hard to remember he was only sixteen sometimes. "You are as much my brother as Mariah was my sister. I have nothing left but you… don't make me go through it again. I can't take it again Eragon, I'll kill myself." He choked a bit and pulled back. "Promise…"

"I'll try…" Eragon said to him, blinking once as water slid down his cheek. "Thank you Mark."

"You need to go…"

"Wasn't there something else you were going to tell me… yesterday, in Nasuada's office? About scrying."

"It was nothing," he insisted, smiling a little. "Just that I won't be able to contact you while you're in Du Weldenvarden, as far as I know, that's all..."

He nodded and gripped Snowfire's reins, turning and heading toward the gates.

"Atra esterní ono thelduin…" Mark said, watching his receding figure until he was gone. He wasn't going to mention the last time he tried scrying his sister that he'd managed to catch a glimmer of green eyes. Eragon didn't need that lingering on his mind, not now.

My little one, I am glad to see you safe, Andrar nuzzled her gently when she was finally led to him. Around his snout and arms were chained imbued with magic to keep him from going anywhere or using any magic. It did appear however, they had healed all his wounds from the previous battles.

Her mind felt better now that she could feel his thoughts swimming in her head. She hugged him around his neck and sighed. "I'm sorry we're in this mess…"

Do not apologize. If it is anyone's fault it is my own… I am glad to see you well, if oath-bound now.

I did my best not to allow it to happen.

You did what you had to, we will find a way. Have you been able to scry your brother?

No, I haven't so much as tried.

The magic here is strong, blocking everything from the outside. Galbatorix has his castle guarded well. He lifted his head slightly as a scraping noise sounded from behind her. Mariah spun and stared at a deep magenta dragoness landed on the stone courtyard, staring at her.

Kieran leaped down gracefully from her back, "This is Nasreen…" The dragoness must have been nearly twice as large as Andrar, her body was lithe and her neck spikes curved slightly. Where as Saphira was beautiful with her glittering ocean blue scales, her body seemed less defined than this one's. At first glance, even a color-blind person would have noted the way she held her head and tail to be feminine. "I have been given orders to release your dragon, since you are now oath bound. Though I implore you remember Murtagh's life will be threatened should either of you try or do anything. I've also been given permission to kill you if necessary. Galbatorix would much rather have a dead dragon than one opposing him." She walked over, calling on her magic and uttering words to break the chains around Andrar.

He immediately snarled at her and flicked his tail, drawing Mariah underneath his foreleg. Nasreen hissed and bounded to her Rider's side, snapping towards him with razor like fangs. She puffed and red-pink flames spurted from her maw, daring him to threaten Kieran again. He snapped his mouth shut and shifted his wing, leaving her to stand up proudly again with satisfaction.

"Why have I not heard your name before? Or of the fact there is another dragon alive?" Mariah asked her, setting a hand on Andrar's side.

"Because," Mariah flicked her gaze behind her to see Murtagh walking toward them. "Galbatorix wouldn't want anyone trying to kill her. She's his secret weapon."

"I also never heard of the king having married, let alone having children." She said, looking at him as he stopped close by.

"What makes you think he married? No, the king is not the loving type, if you have not noticed. Kieran is simply the product of a pretty maid and his own lust." Murtagh looked towards the woman, "Where is your sister?"

"She has a sister?"

"Twin sister, actually," she said to her, keeping her gaze on Murtagh. "She left… is hunting probably. I can't say I care whether she comes back or not. You see," she turned to Mariah, "…my little sister and I are very much different. I always was the special one… when Nasreen hatched for me there wasn't any doubt left. My sister is… well, not."

"You never said anything about Galbatorix having children. You said the Forsworn never had any other children that you knew about. You clearly know about her… and her sister?"

He sighed, leaning against the wall, "Galbatorix isn't of the Forsworn."

"No, he only led them!"

"Calm down Mariah," Murtagh insisted. "I couldn't say anything to you, and even if I could have, I wouldn't have before…"

"Well why not? A warning would have been nice you know – that there might be more Riders, especially ones that want to kill us."

He shook his head, "I am sworn to secrecy about their existence. No one is allowed to know they are his daughters… most of the guards don't even know. They believe she is a maid's daughter who happened to get too close to one of the dragon eggs and it hatched. Galbatorix took her away and oversaw her training since then."

"That's another thing," she said, looking at Nasreen, "I thought there were only two eggs left in Galbatorix's possession."

"Also wrong," Kieran smirked. "Especially after the thieves stole that damn blue egg, why would he stop looking? Since he took power, Galbatorix has stockpiled Rider weapons, eggs… he has a half dozen of them now. I myself have recovered a few."

"…he has six?"

"Plus the other two, so eight." Murtagh said bitterly. "Also sworn to secrecy about, sorry Mariah."

She stared between them and leaned into Andrar, quite unable to believe what she was hearing. For as long as she'd lived Brom had told her there were only three dragon eggs in existence. One – the blue egg- being ferried by the elves… and two in Galbatorix's castle – green and red. Never, did she think for a moment there could be more. "I… what does he plan to do with them?"

"Force them to hatch. He needs generals for his army, does he not? The Forsworn needs thirteen. I'm one. You make two…" Kieran smirked, "With the other eight eggs, that's ten… your companion with the blue dragon would make eleven. I'm sure there must be more eggs hidden in Alagaësia waiting to be found. I intend to get them all. And in the meantime, Nasreen is nearly old enough to breed. She could easily conceive a clutch of eggs and double the numbers we already have."

"That's why you want Saphira… and Andrar…"

"Mostly the female… but having another male to throw into the gene pool won't be bad."

"That still doesn't solve the matter of whether or not the eggs would hatch."

"Galbatorix is working on a way to fix that now… he's planning to force the dragons to hatch and bind them to Riders."

"No one can force an egg to hatch."

"He's going to try."

"If he fails, he'll kill them."

Kieran nodded, "Which is why he practices on bird and lizard eggs…"

"They're nowhere near the same thing." She said venomously.

Murtagh pushed off the wall and looked at Mariah, stopping her from getting too heated up, "We have to get inside. I had a messenger come from Galbatorix to have us sent to dinner…"

"I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat something anyway, especially after fighting like that all day, c'mon." He said, waiting for her.

She hesitated and looked at Kieran for a moment, then Andrar. I shall be fine here little one, we are connected now and I shall be with you. Stay with Murtagh and be safe. Mariah sighed a bit and followed after him, turning her back on Kieran as they walked. Murtagh said nothing as they entered the castle, flanked by guards who then escorted them to the dining hall they had been in earlier that day.

They sat down in the same spots they had earlier and waited silently. Galbatorix entered, followed by Kieran. She smirked at them and sat across from Murtagh, smiling at him. The king moved to the head of the table and observed the three of them. "You have showed promise with your fighting abilities, you were taught well, and even if I despise your style it is effective."

Mariah said nothing, meeting his gaze.

He smirked a little at her, staring into her soul, "Though you have sworn an oath to me, and I believe you to be under my orders… to ensure your complete obedience, tomorrow you will go with my soldiers and the Ra'zac north."

"North," she said, "…what for?"

"Kieran will go with you. She has permission to do whatever she deems necessary to make certain you're bound to the Empire now. And if you attempt to escape, you'd best think better of it, because if you don't return with Kieran, consider your companion dead."

Mariah stared at him and looked at Murtagh. "Where are you sending us?" She asked again slowly.

Kieran let out a chuckle. "Carvahall."

Vel eïnradhin pömnuria ai Shur'tugal, eka malthinae pömnuria líf eom ono un celöbra ono, ebrithil. Pömnuria líf onr thelduin. - Upon my word as a Rider, I bind my life to you and honor you, master. My life is yours to command/rule over.

Draumr kópa – Dream Stare (scrying spell)

Atra esterní ono thelduin. - May good fortune rule over you.

A little bit shorter of a chapter, but I don't want to put in anything more for now… this is enough.

There's a lot of new things I'm trying to work into the story… lots getting revealed. If you notice a loophole in my plot, please mention it. I'll try and figure out the best way to address the problem.

Do you like Kieran? Or at least, the idea of having her in the story?

Kieran means 'dark or black', Eirian means 'silver' and Nasreen means 'wild rose'

I'm going to be away this weekend, so this is your gift - an early chapter because I won't have any time to work on it this weekend. Feel free to ask me any questions you have about the story or comment on how you think it's going!

With Love, As Always,

Mariah