"You know, I can relate to you now. And you're right, Saphira. You're absolutely right...This is terrible...completely terrible..." I'm not really sure why I was talking out loud; Saphira could hear my thoughts, for goodness sake! But I wanted to feel like I was getting some kind of human interaction, even though I was fully aware that she was a dragon. I'd only been up on this cliff with Saphira for one day, but it was already starting to get to me.
'That it is,' she replied. 'Now you know why I was so angry with Eragon when he wouldn't ride me and I could never be around civilization. I just felt so...alone.'
'So do I,' I said, returning to speaking with my mind. At first, the feeling of her consciousness in my mind was strange, like someone was putting pressure on my head, but I was getting used to it slowly. 'Even in Carvahall, I just felt out of place. I lived there for so long, but now, looking back, it never really felt like home to me.'
'So where is your home?' Saphira asked, swinging her massive head around to stare at me with one great, sapphire eye.
I laughed bitterly and threw a stick that was close to me over the edge of the cliff where we were perched, looking down on the port city. 'I wish I knew,' I said. 'Maybe if I knew who my mother and father were, then I would know where to call home.'
'You don't know who your parents were?' Saphira asked, a tinge of sadness in her voice.
'No,' I replied sadly. 'My aunt and uncle never spoke of them. I think it pained Uncle Horst too much to speak of his sister and brother-in-law. But, Aunt Elain did tell me once that my mother was very beautiful. She always says that I look more and more like her every day. I don't even know their names...'
'I don't know who my parents were either,' Saphira said, undoubtedly trying to cheer me up, 'but I suppose that it is different for humans than it is for dragons. Humans must be nurtured by their parents until they reach adulthood, but a dragon hatchling can survive only on instinct if it has to.'
'Thanks, Saphira,' I said bitterly.
'I was only trying to help,' she said, her voice injured. I didn't want to make her feel bad, but she wasn't exactly helping my predicament. 'I'm sorry.'
'Don't apologize,' I said. 'It's fine.' I withdrew contact from her mind; I didn't feel like talking anymore.
Instead, I hurled myself into my favored pastime of imagining what my parents were like and who they were. My father was always handsome and strong. He could do anything. He was mighty and brave, but there was a gentler side to him, and he could be caring. He would play with me as a child and teach me to read, the way that Brom had. He'd show me how to fight with a sword or with a dagger, or to shoot a bow. And he was always there to hold me when I cried.
My mother, however, was beautiful and fierce, like the mountains that surrounded our home. She was independent and strong willed: a fighter, a warrior, but also kind and fair-minded. She always followed her heart, no matter what those around her had to say about it. I liked to imagine her like me in a lot of ways, but also different in the fact that she was grounded. She knew who she was, and she wasn't afraid to show it. I also liked to think that I got some of my sarcasm and wit from her too, but that was just a secret desire.
Oh, how I wished I knew them! If they were still alive, I'm sure they could tell me what's going on with me. I knew that Brom knew what it was, but he just refused to tell me. But, the next time I got him alone, I would force him to tell me. If I was in danger-and I knew that I was-then I had a right to know! I just want to know the truth. Or maybe I don't...Ugh! I don't know what I want anymore! I just wish none of this had ever happened!I wish that I'd never met Eragon or Brom! I wish the soldiers had never come! I wish there was no such thing as the damned Ra'zac! I just want things back to the way they used to be!
But I knew, deep down inside, that things could never be the same. There would still have come a time where I would have searched for the truth about my past, even if none of this had ever happened. Events would have been different, but the results would still be the same: I would still be ignorant and miserable, with everyone refusing to answer my questions.
Saphira suddenly broke into my consciousness. 'Eragon is coming,' she said. Good! Now I can give him a piece of my mind for leaving me behind and...no. No, I wouldn't do that. He's stressed enough as it is without having to worry about me being mad at him. I'll just leave him alone...for now.
It took him a while, and a bit of help from Saphira, to get to the top of the cliff, but he finally made it. He clambered over the edge of the cliff, Saphira dropping him from her mighty jaws, and rubbed the dirt off of his clothes.
"Hello," he called over to me timidly.
"Hi," I called back half-heartedly. He sat down beside me, Saphira lowering her massive body down next to him. "So, how's Teirm?"
"It's wonderful!" he said, his eyes gleaming. "The city is huge! There's so many buildings and shops and people. I've never seen anything like it! You would love it, Tabatha. They have this building that's dedicated entirely to books and scrolls, and you can go there anytime of day to read, whenever you like. It's called a 'library'. Brom says there's tons of them in the larger cities. I can't imagine a city being bigger than that!"
"Wonderful," I mumbled, my heart sinking from the jealousy clasped within it. I had resolved not to be angry with him, but he was making it extremely difficult.
"I'm sorry you couldn't come, Tabby. Really, I am," he tried to comfort me. It wasn't working.
"It's fine," I said, hiding my anger from him. It wasn't so much that I was angry about not being able to go, I was just so frustrated about so many different things, that I was afraid that all my anger and wrath would come flooding out all at once. It's like they say: "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned", and I wanted nothing more than to go into the city right now and to find out what Brom was hiding from me.
Eragon looked at me sadly and made to say something else, but he thought better of it. Smart move. He turned away from me and looked over at Saphira, no doubt conversing with her about all of the wonderful things he'd done and seen. I called goodbye as Saphira chartered him back down to the bottom of the cliff at sunset.
Night soon fell and I wrapped myself in a blanket to go to sleep, resting my head on top of my arm and staring at the night sky. The moon shone down bright and clear, reflecting off the waters of the sea beyond the city. Stars wheeled above, their numbers unfathomable; sentinels watching over me in the night. As I drifted away, my head was swimming with thoughts, but all I could really think of was my mother and father.
That night, my head filled with strange dreams. I couldn't remember most of them come morning, except for one...
I was in a large palace, like the citadel Brom had described to me that was in Uru'baen. The halls twisted and turned as I ran through them, searching for something. As I turned corners and traced my path through the corridors, I could just make out someone in front of me: a woman, with long, flowing dark hair, a circlet of purest silver around her head. She wore an intricate dress of dark blue silk with silver embroidery around the hem and the edges of the sleeves. She was running as well, though I could not tell from what. Was it me? I called after her in a language that was strange to my own ears, but she never turned.
As I rounded another of the corners in the hallway, I saw a long corridor of stone stretching before me, glass-paned windows lining one side, and torches adorning the wall of the other. It was dark here, and the flickering flames of the torches cast strange shadows upon the walls. It suddenly felt very cold and I could see my breath coming out in front of me. I wrapped my arms around myself and couldn't help the fit of shivering that came over me.
"Hello?" I called into the darkness, my own voice echoing back to me off the stone, 'Hello, hello, heeelllooo...'. There was a figure standing at the end of the hall, moving restlessly, like an animal trapped in a cage, pacing back and forth at the dead end where the corridor stopped. "Who's there?" The shadowy figure stopped and turned to me slowly. I made my way down the corridor, my footsteps crashing loudly against the stone floor. "Who are you?" I called as I drew closer. I took a torch from its sconce on the wall and held it aloft in front of me to light the way.
I thought that the figure was the woman I'd been following before, but as it came into the light, I saw that it was a man. He was tall, broad of shoulder, with dark features. His brow was furrowed, as though he were deep in thought, and the straight lines of his nose and jaw stood in stark relief against the torchlight, creating long shadows that marred his face to look like a demon. He had long, straight black hair and he wore an amused grin on his face, his slightly full mouth twisted upward. He was dressed like a noble, in fine fabrics and quality leather boots. A sword of the highest craftsmanship hung from his belt, the jewel set into the pommel glittering in the torchlight. But what struck me the most about him were his eyes: they were blood red and shimmering, their pupils slits, like a snake's, and they had flecks of black that caught the light and turned silver. He let out a sinister laugh that echoed wildly and I heard myself scream, dropping the torch to be snuffed out against the floor...
It was a whole week until Brom and Eragon finally got what they were looking for. I found out that Eragon had learned to read in this time so that he could be of some use in deciphering the records. Well it was about time! I'd been trying to teach him to read since we were children, and he'd never taken an interest before. Now all of a sudden that it was useful to know how to read, he took an interest? Unbelievable...
And the night they were set to break into the records room, I was a nervous wreck. I should be there to help! I can read better than Eragon can! What if they're attacked and I don't know it? How will I be able to get into the city and save them?!
'Tabatha!' Saphira barked, sensing my distress. 'They are going to be fine. Brom knows what he's doing.'
'Let us hope so,' I said sourly, crossing my arms over my chest and continuing to pace back and forth along the edge of the cliff face. After a while of this, I resigned to just sit cross-legged, the sword Brom had given me resting in my lap, and wait for any word.
The night passed slowly, and still no word came. Saphira stood next to me on the edge of the cliff, a sentinel over all of the valley, keeping a constant vigil. When the first rays of dawn appeared, I began to grow even more nervous.
Another hour passed.
Two...
Three...
'They're coming!' Saphira finally said. Quickly, I jumped up and into her saddle. She vaulted off the cliff and soared down towards the ground, trees and rocks racing upward to meet us at an alarming rate. For a moment, I thought that she would crash into a particularly large branch of a tree, but she angled her wings at the last moment and veered away to safety. It was an exhilarating experience to ride a dragon, even if she wasn't mine.
We landed near the road and I instantly jumped off Saphira's back, grimacing at the hard feel of the ground as my feet met it. "Did you get it? Where are we going next?" I asked eagerly, my hands shaking slightly.
"Yes, and Dras-Leona," Brom said triumphantly. Good, now we're getting somewhere. Eragon climbed onto Saphira's back and I bounded over to Cadoc, unable to contain my excitement. "We should keep moving. Dras-Leona is at least two weeks ride from here."
"Then let's not waste anymore time, shall we?" I said, spurring Cadoc forward. Brom followed, laughing heartily.
We made camp that night in a little wooded area just off the road. I went off to gather firewood while Eragon went off to do...only the gods knew what. I picked up the large branches off the ground and quickly returned to camp, only to find Eragon there, cradling his right arm, a look of excruciating pain on his face.
"What happened to you?" I asked, dropping the wood at my feet. He quickly glared at me.
"I broke it," he growled.
"Come on, we have to get moving," Brom said in exasperation, mounting Snowfire.
"What? Why?" I asked, confused.
"Urgals," Eragon spat. Well that explains his broken arm. I gathered up my things and mounted Cadoc as Eragon and Saphira flew off into the night sky.
Brom and I rode hard, pushing the horses to their limits. Cadoc was breathing heavily beneath me, and he'd broken out in a sweat. I patted him on the arm and sent reassuring thoughts to his mind, willing him to keep going. He seemed to understand, for he picked up his speed. The sounds of the Urgal horde could faintly be heard coming through the night air and that was prompting enough. We rode on in silence until I felt something jolt in my mind. What was that? Apparently, Brom felt it too, for he pulled Snowfire to a dead stop.
"Did you feel that?" I asked. Brom merely nodded and rolled his eyes.
"Eragon!" he groaned, turning Snowfire around as I quickly followed. When we reached Saphira, the Urgals were fleeing in the opposite direction and Eragon lay unconscious on the ground. What has he done now?
"Saphira," Brom snapped, "carry him and follow me." Saphira picked Eragon up in her mighty talons and took flight once more, following us further into the woods. Brom finally stopped at a large clearing. Gingerly, Saphira set Eragon down, taking care not to crush him. He looked so frail in this state. Brom quickly fashioned a makeshift splint onto Eragon's arm and then rubbed his temple in a frustrated manner.
"What happened to him?" I asked, gazing at his unconscious form.
"He nearly died!" the old man snapped irritably.
"Don't yell at me! Yell at him when he wakes up!" I protested hotly. I was not going to put up with this, especially after all the horse manure that Brom had put me through these past two weeks.
He grumbled something that sounded like "I'm sorry" and busied himself with making a fire. When he was finished, I sat across from him. This is my chance! I've got to do it now!
"Look Brom," I said nervously, "I know that now may not be the best time, but if the only thing holding you back was the fact that Eragon might hear, then now is as good a time as ever. He's knocked out cold. I can't wait any longer. I need to know what you're holding back." I breathed a sigh of relief. I'm glad that's over! But I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that the worst was yet to come.
Brom sighed and looked up at me, the fire glinting in his sad eyes. "I have long feared that this day would come," he said, his voice dark and grave. "But you must know if you are to survive this. Before I begin, you must promise that you will hold all of your questions until I am finished and let me speak. Agreed?"
"I promise," I said quickly. Here we go.
"Many years ago," he began, "there was a young woman, slightly older than you are now. Her name was Adelaide. She was a very powerful witch, but she did not work for the forces of evil. She was good and kind to all seeking her help. Anyone that needed healing, she would aid to the best of her ability. And her abilities were great indeed. She could cure any kind of sickness, from a common cold to a woman's infertility. She was truly gifted. Adelaide lived in Carvahall.
"On the morning of her nineteenth birthday, a mysterious stranger came into town. This stranger observed her from afar and took a liking to her, though she was wary of him at first, as villagers are wont to do when a stranger comes into their community. When they finally met, Adelaide came to find that she liked him after all, despite what her family and neighbors said, and they had many things in common. 'He'll bring you nothing but trouble,' they warned. But she paid them no mind. The stranger-Cain, he called himself-was charming and witty, and handsome. He treated her with kindness and marveled at her incredible powers. They spent each day with each other, teaching one another about their different cultures and lifestyles. Where Adelaide had been reared in the country, Cain had lived his entire life in the great city of Dras-Leona. He filled her head with tales of great cities and their wonders, and all of the opportunities those cities would afford someone with her particular talents..." I wasn't really sure what any of this had to do with me, but I was sure that Brom was going somewhere with it.
"The stranger," he continued slowly, "persuaded Adelaide to run away with him to Uru'baen, another of the great cities, where they could start a new life together. They were married in secret, and lived happily for quite some time. And then, Adelaide discovered that she was pregnant.
"At first, she was overjoyed, and so was her husband, but then, Adelaide began to notice him changing. He began to speak of frightening things that she didn't understand and he grew suspicious of nearly everyone. Cain believed they were being watched at all times, and that the forces of evil were plotting to take their baby away. He told her that he needed to take the baby away somewhere safe, for its own protection, and hide it amongst people that could be trusted. She began to fear for the life of her unborn child.
"When the baby was finally born, she decided that she would run away with her new daughter and escape the ravings of her husband, whom she'd grown to fear. She tried to run from him, but he discovered her plans in a letter that was intercepted by one of his men. He sent out his servants and minions after her, his intentions clear.
"Knowing she was going to die, Adelaide made one final, desperate attempt to save her daughter's life. She gave the baby to me, and asked that I take her somewhere safe, where the father would never find her. Adelaide was the daughter of an old friend, and from Carvahall, besides, so I agreed to take the child. She disappeared into the night after giving the baby one final kiss and a blessing, and I never saw her again.
"I delivered you, Tabatha, safely to Carvahall and left you in the care of Horst and Elain, knowing they would raise you for their sister. By that time, unbeknownst to your mother, your father had been in power for many years. Somehow, he'd managed to keep his true identity hidden from her the entire time." I couldn't believe what I was hearing...It can't be true! Brom caught my look of desolation and despair and sadness filled his eyes. "I'm sorry, but it is true. Tabatha, your father...is the king...Galbatorix."