people. I might never forget those shrieks, their laughter, or all this blood. We're all drenched. Does everyone have their shields and weapons? I guess we can come back if we
need to, though I don't want to."
A few weary nods answered him, but most of the youth simply started carefully treading through the slick rivulets of blood pooled all over the floor, making their way back to their
camp on the beach.
Back in the camp, the group was somber. They doused the fire after dinner, not needing the warmth in the humid tropical weather. None of the unconscious had yet recovered. Var
had carried Zadí straight to their tent, where he had remained ever since.
Brin sat with Brom's head in her lap, mechanically running her fingers through his hair. Will and Lena huddled together across from her, silently gazing at the burned wood and
ashes in front of them. Ajh held Hanna's hand. She, Nefin, and Keeta lay side by side on some blankets Lena had spread out once they arrived.
After an immeasurable span of time, during which the only sounds were those made by insects and wildlife completely oblivious to the friends' grief, Brom began to stir.
Brin focused her vacant gaze on his face, dreading the news she would have to share when he awakened.
At length he did. His eyes were blurry and confused. "Where are we?" Brom rasped.
"Back at the camp," Brin leadenly answered.
Brom cleared his throat. "Can I have something to drink?"
Brin reached for the water skin Lena extended over the fire pit and handed it to Brom. She lifted his head enough that he could comfortably drink.
"Thank you," Brom said when he finished. "So we won?"
Brin nodded, fighting the tears that filled her eyes.
"Will you help me sit up?"
Brin obliged, and Brom glanced around. "Are they all right?" he questioned, gesturing toward the two elves and Keeta.
"They're breathing," Ajh replied. "But unconscious. Nefin was poisoned. Hanna passed out. Keeta collapsed from exhaustion. And possibly the trauma of killing so many people."
"Where are Var and Zadí?"
"In their tent," Brin quietly responded. "But Brom . . ."
He glanced at her in concern. "What's wrong?"
"Zadí . . ." Brin began, stopping when her breath caught. "Zadí is dead."
Brom stared at her for a second, the muscles in his face twitching as he clenched his jaw. Finally, "How? Didn't she stay out in the hall?"
Brin didn't answer. She knew the truth, but not how to share it with Brom.
"She did at first," Lena supplied during the silence. "But at some point she went in."
"Someone got around me," Brin explained with tears streaming down her face. "He was targeting you. Zadí was the only one who noticed. She tried to get my attention, but I didn't
hear. She tried to tell Var too. We were all so overwhelmed. So she ran in and threw herself between you and the man just as he tried to stab you. His knife killed her instead."
Brom moved his gaze to his tightly balled fists. "It can't be. Why Zadí? Of all the people to die in a battle. What about the baby? Also dead, I guess."
Brin nodded numbly. "Before she died, she asked that I share something with you when you woke up. She conveyed it as a mental message. I can think about it while you read my
thoughts."
"Yes," Brom agreed, not lifting his eyes as two thin trails appeared on his cheeks. He made his mental presence noticeable as Brin recalled Zadí's words. Brom could also see his
sister as she had looked when speaking into Brin's mind.
Brom, please don't feel responsible for what happened. It's bad enough that Var and Brin already do. It was nobody's fault. I chose to make this sacrifice to save you and everyone I
love. If you had died, I still would have, but so many more would have unnecessarily joined me. This must have been my role all along. Right before he hatched, Nefin's dragon
prepared me for this task, though I didn't realize it then. Once you all have succeeded in restoring the Dragon Rider pact and the dragons return, ask Arget about it if you want. But
please don't try to bring me back. We don't understand how that works, and I wouldn't want to exist as a reanimated corpse, especially now that the baby is gone. If you want to do
something for me, maybe you could figure out a way to take my body back to mother and father.
Zadí's mental message ended there, but Brom sensed Brin holding something back.
What aren't you showing me, Brin?
Can I wait until we're alone? Brom nodded as Brin finished, But this is what she said right after.
Through Brin's memories Brom saw Zadí look at his face and whisper, "Goodbye, Brom. I love you, big brother."
Brom lowered his face to his knees and quietly wept, "Zadí. How I wish it could have been me instead, little sister. I love you too. Thank you for saving my life."
Brin didn't know how to comfort Brom or if he even wanted her to try, so she simply sat beside him and cried along with him.
After a while Brom lifted his head and asked, "I want to go see her. How is Var?"
"Heartbroken," Will answered. "But I don't think he would prevent you from seeing her."
"Come with me?" Brom requested, looking over at Brin.
She took his hand and stood, helping him rise. With her arm around his waist, they slowly made their way to Var's tent.
"Var," Brom called when they stood outside the door. "It's Brom. I'd like to come in. May I?"
"Come in," was Var's toneless invitation.
Brin held the flap aside and supported Brom as he ducked through the opening. She followed him through. The tent wasn't large, so they crouched down right inside the door. Brin
gingerly extended her injured leg so she wouldn't support any weight on it.
Var sat by the far wall of the small space beside Zadí's face, blankly staring down at her.
Brin saw that Var had been busy since they arrived back at the camp. Zadí was now dressed in the ivory wedding gown she had inherited from her mother. Her face and hands
were clean of blood, her hair brushed and spilling over either of her shoulders in dark waves. Her hands were resting atop each other—the wounded one underneath—over the slight
swelling of her abdomen. Var had finally closed her eyes, and her mouth was still turned up in the last expression that had graced her lips—a faint smile. But for the lifeless pallor
of her skin, she appeared to be sleeping and dreaming of something sweet.
The golden locket Zadí had worn since their fivemonth anniversary dangled from Var's hand.
Brom gazed at his little sister's unmoving form, new tears replacing those he had shed outside. "I'm so sorry, Zadí," he breathed. "I know how much you wanted to be a mother,
how hard your sacrifice must have been. You were so brave. I'll find a way to fulfill your request."
"What request?" Var asked, not looking up. "Can you bring her back?"
"No, Var. She specifically told me not to try. I'm sorry. But she suggested I might think of a way to preserve her body to take home to our parents. Would you have a problem with
that?"
Var shook his head. "If it means I could keep seeing her, I would actually like it. And I have another favor to ask."
"I'll do anything within my power," Brom promised.
"Make a fairth of my little girl. Before Zadí died, I saw the baby as she would have appeared at about five. You could just look at the image in my mind. Zadí wanted to add a
picture of our child to this locket after she was born."
"Yes, I can do that. Var, I'm so sorry. I wish it could have been me instead."
"Me too," Var muttered. "I mean, I wish it could have been me. You had to live. That was the whole point of Zadí's sacrifice. I'm sure you have even more to do once that Shade
returns. Do you wish now that you had considered my suggestion back o
n the ship?"
Brin warily looked at Var, sensing his bitterness.
Never moving his gaze from Zadí's peaceful countenance, Brom sighed and wiped a hand across his cheeks to clear the tears.
After dinner they had been escorted back to the west wing of the castle. They were given new rooms that connected through double doors in the wall. They both were as
immaculate as the first, though much more accommodating with food and drinks on a table near the crackling fireplace. When the guards closed the doors to Mariah's room, Murtagh lingered nearby for a moment.
"Anything you want to talk about?" He asked, running his finger over the top of a dresser.
She sighed, sitting on the edge of her bed, forcing a crushed red velvet blanket to crease, "Why didn't you tell me before, about any of this? I trust you Murtagh, with my life. You
saved me, Mark and Eragon more times than I care to count yet you still hide things from me."
"It wasn't my wish to hide anything, especially not from you." Murtagh admitted, glancing over. "Your brother was right to be suspicious of me."
"Of course, he has a natural talent for recognizing when people are lying," Mariah said.
"That's probably because he too is a frequent liar." He paused, "Kieran and her sister are not a surprise to me, no. When I was younger, growing up in the castle I often played with
them, they were like my own sisters. We are close to the same age and though they are technically princesses, they weren't raised in seclusion. As I said before, only a handful of
people are allowed to know of their existence and even fewer of their ranking. It was only after I turned ten that I found out about their royal lineage. That day Galbatorix made me
swear never to tell anyone what I knew. He insisted it was important and I didn't question it. Then, when Nasreen hatched for Kieran two years ago, I was sworn to secrecy again.
Never to tell a living soul about the new dragon or the fact her Rider was a daughter of Galbatorix. I couldn't tell you about them until after you already knew. I'm very sorry."
Mariah looked up at him, "That wouldn't have been your fault then… since you were unable to tell us about them."
"If I could have," he insisted. "They're extremely dangerous." She rubbed her eyes, sighing heavily. "Mariah… tomorrow you'll be going with them. Don't do anything that would put
you in harm's way. Come back alive and we'll find a way out of this."
"It's my home, Murtagh… he wants me to destroy the one place I care about most…"
He watched her, "I have never had anywhere I would specifically call my home… so I can't say I know how that feels. But having something you care about being taken away from
you is painful… and I'm sorry. If there was anything I could do to help, you know I would."
"…what oath did you swear to the king when you arrived?"
"Several, I couldn't rename them all if I tried." She bit her lip, feeling her eyes tear up. "Mariah look at me." She snapped her head up, staring at him. "I'm sorry."
"I know you are." Mariah said, looking at him. No matter how hard he tried to make his face sympathetic, his eyes betrayed more sorrow than he could express. He truly was sorry
for what had happened.
He shook his head, "Come back after your trip alive, that's all that matters to me right now. You should sleep… I probably won't see you in the morning. Good night."
"Night…" she muttered, watching the door close behind him. After waiting several minutes, trying to be sure no one was around to listen and that Murtagh was indeed asleep. Mariah slipped off her bed and trotted to the mirror hanging above a table on the wall. "Draumr kópa." She whispered, trying her hardest to scry her brother. The mirror seemed to
swirl with black for a moment before dissipating; the only thing visible in the mirror was herself.
After a minute of selfpity she tried again, with Eragon, "Draumr kópa." Watching the mirror turn black, it stayed like that a moment before flickering with sparks, then returning to
its normal state. Andrar was right, the magic around Urû'baen wouldn't let her scry anyone. Sighing, Mariah turned and sat on the floor, burying her face in her hands and crying.
In the morning, she woke up on the floor, sore and exhausted. The incessant banging forced her to wake just before Kieran burst into her room. "You were supposed to be up an
hour ago, get ready we're leaving soon." She snapped, turning on her heel.
Mariah watched her walk back out and stood, searching the room for clothes. She found a better set of clothes in a large decorated wardrobe, resembling the ones she'd left The
Varden in, and changed quickly. The black belt settled on her hips, though she felt naked without a blade at her side. Walking into the hallway, she came to a sudden halt as Murtagh and Kieran were arguing loudly.
"That means you lied to me!"
"You lie to me all the time, what does it matter if I do it once?" Kieran asked, heading for the staircase, her heels clicking on the stone floor.
He followed after her with long strides, his face red, "No. This is different, you know it's different. You told me she was out hunting or something. I know you don't particularly care
about her, but lying about her absence?"
She wheeled about on the stairs to face him, looking down at the man, "I wasn't about to tell you she ran away and father was tracking her down. She should have known better
than to leave, but no. Left right after you, she did. I assumed once we found you she'd be nearby, but I was wrong. When father does catch her, you know what he's going to do?"
"Don't" Murtagh insisted quickly.
Kieran pressed a finger into his chest, "He's going to torture her for an answer as to why she left, search her mind so vigorously she won't even remember what she looks like. And
after he gets every last drop of information out of her, he's going to kill her for trying to leave. That is what I lied to you about Murtagh it was for your own benefit." She spat,
walking up the stairs.
He stood at the foot of the staircase and watched her ascend, looking as if he was about to be sick. When he wheeled about to go back to his room, he saw Mariah standing there.
He faltered for a moment before clearing his throat.
"Kendra hates them both..." Murtagh explained, "Kieran's sister. I… left last year and hadn't told her. I've always regretted it, but I was too frightened to say anything aloud where
Galbatorix might be listening." He blinked, meeting her gaze. "Go with Kieran, you're going to be late." Without a word, he walked off, leaving Mariah to only follow the princess.
"Good, now that you're here, I'm going to properly outfit you," Kieran said, having waited for her in the room above the staircase. "Follow."
Mariah did as she said, rolling her eyes a bit and trotting after the woman. Her heels were becoming annoying with their clicking against the stone. They arrived at the armory
where she allowed her to pick out a sword. Mariah quickly glanced over the weapons before snatching a slim long sword with a good grip, not quite a rapier, but close. She also
picked up a dagger and tied both sheaths to her waist.
"You'll be in need of armor as well. You do wear armor, right?" Kieran asked her, raising an eyebrow. She herself was already wearing the ornate outfit Mariah had met her in. The
silver chest plate formed around her breasts with intricate details and jewels embedded in the metal, ending with her ribcage, leaving a gap between the bottom and her waistline.
Her pauldrons, greaves and vambraces all decorated with the same swirling designs. Under her armor she wore a fine silver chainmail dress; a belt wrapping around her hips, with
tassets on her thighs, covered her pelvis with a deep purple piece of fabric draping down past her knees. The black boots underneath her greaves had a fairly thin four inch heel on
them.
"Sometimes…" she said warily, definitely
not wanting to wear anything of the princesses'.
Kieran looked her over a moment before walking her into a separate room nearby the armory. "Choose whatever you like. I don't know how much you'll find, but you will need
something. Perhaps Galbatorix will have a set made for you by the time you return."
If anyone else had suggested such a thing she would have been ecstatic, however the thought of being given such a gift by the king made her feel ill. Especially because armor was
to be used in battle and she had no want to fight anyone for him.
Finally her eyes landed on a leather skirt. The leather strips were studded and overlapped each other when worn by the belt they were attached to. Mariah quickly wound it over her
hips and buckled it tight. She found a pair of leather vambraces that seemed to be small enough for her nearby a similar pair of greaves. Though all leather, none of it matched.
She would have to make due without a breastplate, seeing as there was no female equipment in the room. When she turned to Kieran however, the woman was holding onto a thick
leather corset. Mariah shook her head. "I'm not wearing that."
"I have nothing else for you to wear, so you'd best put it on." She threw it to her and Mariah caught it instinctively. Sighing a bit she wrapped the corset over her torso and started
lacing it up the sides tightly. Taking a deep breath to make sure it wasn't too snug, she nodded. "I don't need anymore than this… too much heavy armor weighs me down."
"Fair enough, now come, we have to go before it gets much later." She said, turning and striding out of the room, holding onto her sword with her left hand.
Light burst into the tunnel as the doors dragged open. Eragon winced, is eyes sorely unaccustomed to daylight after so long underground. Beside him, Saphira hissed and arched her
neck to get a better view of their surroundings.
It had taken the m two days to traverse the subterranean passage from Farthen Dûr, though it felt longer to Eragon, due to the never ending dusk that surrounded them and the
silence it had imposed upon their group. In all, he could recall only a handful of words being exchanged during their journey, aside from the ceremony in which he had taken part –
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