Luminescent (Inheritance Cycle and Beyond)

Chapter Forty-Eight: Blinding

"He is on his way," Saphira replied. We waited in silence, Eragon staring down at his hands as he compiled a list of supplies we would need for the trip to Vroengard. When Solembum pushed aside the flaps to the tent and entered, I was surprised to see that he was now in his human form: that of a young boy, dark-eyed and insolent. In his left hand, the werecat held a leg of roast goose, on which he was gnawing. A ring of grease coated his lips and chin, and drops of melted fat had splattered his bare chest.

As he chewed on a strip of flesh, Solembum motioned with his sharp, pointed chin toward the patch of dirt where Glaedr's heart of hearts lay buried. What is it you want, firebreather? He asked.

"To know if you are who you seem to be!" Glaedr said.

With a gargled yowl, Solembum spat out his mouthful of meat and sprang backward, as if he had stepped on a viper. He stood where he was, then, trembling with effort, his sharp teeth bared, and a look of such fury in his tawny eyes. After a minute, the storm diminished, and the clouds withdrew, although they did not disappear entirely.

"My apologies, werecat," Glaedr said. "But I had to know for certain."

Solembum hissed, and the hair on his head fluffed and spiked so that it resembled the blossom of a thistle.

If you still had your body, old one, I would cut off your tail for that. I sighed at the werecat's fury.

"You, little cat? You could not have done more than scratch me." Again Solembum hissed, and then he turned on his heel and stalked toward the entrance, his shoulders hunched close to his ears.

"Wait," Glaedr said. "Did you tell Eragon and Mal about this place on Vroengard, this place of secrets that none can remember?"

The werecat paused, and without turning around, he growled and brandished the goose leg over his head in an impatient, dismissive gesture.

I did.

"And did you tell him the page in Domia abr Wyrda wherein he found the location of this place? So it seems, but I have no memory of it, and I hope that whatever is on Vroengard singes your whiskers and burns your paws."

The entrance to the tent made a loud flapping sound as Solembum swatted it aside; then, his small form melted into the shadows as if he had never existed.

"You should not have been so rough with him," Arya said.

"I had no other choice," Glaedr rumbled.

"Didn't you? You could have asked his permission first."

"And give him the opportunity to prepare? No. It is done; let it be, Arya."

"I cannot. His pride is wounded. You should attempt to placate him. It would be dangerous to have a werecat as your enemy."

"It is even more dangerous to have a dragon as your enemy. Let it be, elfling. Now, Eragon," The golden dragon said, "Will you allow me to examine the memories of your conversation with Solembum?"

"If you want, but ... why? You'll only end up forgetting."

"Perhaps. And then again, perhaps not. We shall see." Glaedr said before addressing Arya. "Separate your mind from ours, and do not allow Eragon's memories to taint your consciousness."

""As you wish, Glaedr-elda." As Arya spoke, the music of her thoughts grew ever more distant. A moment later, the eerie singing faded to silence. Then Glaedr returned his attention to Eragon.

"Show me," he commanded. A look crossed Eragon's face as he let Glaedr see the memories. Glaedr removed himself from Eragon's mind and addressed Arya.

"When I have forgotten, if I do, repeat to me the words "Andumë and Fíronmas at the hill of sorrows, and their flesh like glass." This place on Vroengard ... I know of it. Or I once did. It was something of importance, something ..." The dragon's thoughts grayed for a second as if a layer of mist had been blown over the hills and valleys of his being, obscuring them.

"Well?" he demanded, regaining his former brusque attitude. "Why do we tarry? Eragon, show me your memories."

My eyes went wide at how fast the spell went into effect.

"I already have," Eragon replied. Even as Glaedr's mood turned to disbelief, Arya said the words she had been told to say.

"Glaedr, remember: 'Andumë and Fíronmas at the hill of sorrows, and their flesh like glass.'"

"How—" Glaedr started, and then he growled with such force, I almost expected to hear the sound out loud. "Argh. I hate spells that interfere with one's memory. They're the worst form of magic, always leading to chaos and confusion. Half the time they seem to end with family members killing one another without realizing it."

"What does the phrase you used mean?" Saphira asked.

"Nothing, except to Oromis and me. But that was the point; no one would know of it unless I told them." Arya sighed.

"So the spell is real. I suppose you have to go to Vroengard, then. To ignore something of this importance would be folly. If nothing else, we need to know who the spider is at the center of this web."

"I shall go as well," Glaedr said. "If someone means to harm you two, they may not expect to fight three dragons instead of one. In any event, you will need a guide. Vroengard has become a dangerous place since the destruction of the Riders, and I would not have you fall prey to some forgotten evil."

"We'll fly faster if our dragons only have to carry one person," Eragon said in a quiet voice to Arya.

"I know. ... Only, I always wanted to visit the home of the Riders."

"You will," I responded sternly. She nodded.

"Someday." Eragon took a deep breath before looking at me, I nodded to his question, and he stood up.

"Captain Garven!" Eragon called. "Will you please join us?"