The Truth About Lies (An Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction)

Dousing the Flames

Belatona and Aroughs were much the same. The people were willing and compliant—even grateful to be free of the Empire's yoke—and we left them with a renewed sense of accomplishment. Feinster, however, was another story.

It was our last day in Feinster, and it had been full of releasing oaths and undoing spells. We'd decided to stop at a popular tavern in town for a quick drink before we got on our way. The tavern was loud and full of people, but they all seemed to be laughing and socializing congenially. The barkeep brought us our ales and then bustled back over to the bar where a particularly rowdy group of men had just started bellowing out a folk song. I looked over at the drunken antics, and couldn't help the giggle that escaped me.

Suddenly, Eragon slammed his drink down and vaulted out of his chair, sending it crashing to the floor. I looked up at him in alarm, as did several other people around us.

"Eragon," I called, "what is it?" He was looking about the room wildly, and then I noticed a serving maid dart out from behind the bar and out a side door. Eragon sprinted after her, and I did not waste any time following him.

We raced out the side door into an alley full of crates, but the girl was nowhere to be found. Beyond the alley, the streets were full of people, and when we entered the crowd I soon realized it would be impossible to find her in this mess.

"What happened back there?" I said in between breaths.

"The drink was poisoned," Eragon spat, wiping at his mouth roughly. "My wards protected me, but I have no doubt your drink was poisoned as well. Did you drink any?"

"No, I never got a chance."

"Good," he replied shortly. We didn't linger in the city any longer after that. Amera and Saphira met us outside the city gates and we departed with the intention of heading back to Urû'baen.

***

Midway between Feinster and Urû'baen, Eragon contacted me.

I'd like to change our course, if you're in agreement, he said tentatively. To the west, I could just make out the cityscape of Dras-Leona, and that's when I realized what he was after.

Of course, Eragon, I replied. Can you remember where it is?

Saphira thinks she can. With that, Saphira angled her wings to the east and pulled away from us. I let Amera know what was going on and she swiftly followed behind the sapphire dragon. We searched for about an hour in the limestone hills, but then I saw the opening of a cave in the side of one hill, and knew instantly that was where Brom was buried. The two dragons spiraled down to the summit of the hill, and Eragon and I alighted onto the stone.

It looked much the same as the last time we'd been here. I felt my heart lurch at the memories, and tears spring to my eyes. There before us was the diamond tomb, Brom's face strikingly visible through the clear gemstone surface. He looked to be only sleeping, as though his eyes would spring open at any moment and the breath return to his body. I looked a bit closer, and saw there was even a slight rosiness to his cheeks. He'd been buried so quickly after death, and the diamond tomb seemed to have stopped any decaying of his body.

Eragon and I stayed quiet for a long while, just standing by the tomb in silent reflection. Amera and Saphira sat slightly behind us with their heads bowed.

I wish I could have known him, Amera reflected sadly. From your memories, he seems a great man, and an exceptional Rider.

He was like a father to me, I replied. I miss him terribly, Amera.