Age of the Dragon 1: Return of the Riders

Chapter 3 Bonus

Murtagh's POV:

Fallyn had proven to be as terrifying as she was enigmatic. This strange woman had convinced Saphira to trust her, and judging by her immediate reaction to his father, Murtagh doubted she was working with Galbatorix very much.

There was too much raw hatred for him to think she might have been a spy. However, she could be a perfect spy. They discussed the plan, the keen mind of a hunter revealing itself as she proposed alternate schemes and backups in case of unforeseen problems. Before parting ways to sneak into the prison and save Eragon, he had felt a strange pressure against his mental defences - something old, powerful, and musical that seemed to brush against his mind before retreating.

He had looked at her then, questioning who this small, hooded woman was.

His eyes shifted to the blade at her hip, all black like everything else on her person. All he had seen under the hood when she had her sword at his neck were golden, cat-like eyes, fair skin, and snowy eyebrows.

"Try not to die, boy," she said, fading into the shadows.

"I'm not a boy," he muttered indignantly, throwing his hood over his head and heading towards the prison.

Getting in was ludicrously easy. Everything was absolute mayhem; from what Murtagh had overheard, it sounded like Eragon got free.

"Hopefully, I can find him before the soldiers do..." Murtagh muttered. "And Eragon and Saphira will probably want to speak with Fallyn..."

"CHARGE!"

Murtagh turned his head, quickly noting it wasn't him they were charging. Eragon stood in the middle of a hallway, hand glowing as he held it up.

"Dammit..." he muttered, firing arrows into the men rushing the boy.

Quickly, he and Eragon reduced the men down to one. He raised his bow, prepared to end the last one, when Eragon said, "Don't kill him!"

Murtagh internally complained about this boy and his soft heart and hoped he had a good reason for not removing this obstacle to saving his life, lowering his bow.

"You've seen what I can do," Eragon said harshly to the survivor. "If you don't answer my questions, the rest of your life will be spent in utter misery and torment. "Now, where's my sword - its sheath and blade are red - and what cell is the elf in?"

Murtagh saw the man's jaw clamp shut, Eragon's palm glowing ominously.

"That was the wrong answer," he snapped. "Do you know how much pain a grain of sand can cause you when it's embedded, red-hot in your stomach? Especially when it doesn't cool off for the next twenty years and slowly burns down to your toes! You'll be an old man when it gets out of you."

There was a pause, and Eragon's tone changed slightly, coaxing.

"Unless you tell me what I want," he suggested.

Murtagh slowly moved closer, seeing the eyes on the soldier bulge, though he remained steadfastly silent. Murtagh checked behind him, ensuring no one else was sneaking up on them. Eragon bent down and scraped some dirt from the ground.

"This is a bit more than a piece of sand, but be comforted," he said calmly. "It'll burn through you faster. Still, it'll leave a bigger hole."

"All right, just don't put that in me!" the man yelped, flinching away from the cherry-red, glowing dirt speck in Eragon's hand. "The elf's in the last cell to the left! I don't know about your sword, but it's probably in the guardroom upstairs. All the weapons are there."

Eragon nodded, then murmured something under his breath, causing the man's eyes to roll back as he slumped over limply.

"Did you kill him?" magic was certainly frightening if Eragon could kill with a word...

Eragon squinted at him.

"Murtagh! Is that you?"

"Yes," Murtagh briefly lifted the beard. "I don't want my face seen. Did you kill him?"

"No, he's only asleep. How did you get in?"

"There's no time to explain," Murtagh said. "We must get to the next floor before anyone else finds us. There'll be an escape route for us in a few minutes. We don't want to miss it."

"Didn't you hear what I said?" Eragon gestured at the soldier. "There's an elf in the prison. I saw her! We have to rescue her. I need your help."

A pang of irritation flashed through him. This wasn't part of the plan... he had no way of communicating the plan change to Fallyn either. What if she thought he was tricking her?

The pain from where her sword had pierced his clavicle throbbed at the thought of her hunting him down to finish what she had started.

"An elf...!" he grumbled, walking towards the cell the soldier had mentioned. "This is a mistake... we should flee while we have the chance. If we miss our chance, she'll leave us to die, no doubt."

"Saphira won't abandon me," Eragon said firmly as Murtagh passed him a ring of keys.

"I wasn't talking about Saphira," Murtagh said. "Long story short, someone has been looking for you since Brom's tomb, and she agreed to help get you out. But she obviously doesn't fully trust that this isn't all a trap."

"Wait, who is she?"

"I'm not sure," Murtagh said. "But hurry up; we can discuss this all later."

He looked into the cell as Eragon caught the fainting elf-woman, awed by her beauty.

"She's beautiful!"

"But hurt," Eragon said.

"We can tend to her later. Are you strong enough to carry her?" Eragon shook his head. "Then I'll do it."

He slung her over his shoulders, momentarily surprised at how light she was. He grabbed a dagger and handed it to Eragon.

"Now, upstairs!"

Murtagh led the way through the hall and up the stairs; he soon came across bodies he hadn't left. They all appeared to have been surprised - some had no physical evidence of injuries.

"How are we going to get out without being noticed?" Eragon asked.

"We're not," Murtagh grunted, trying to avoid slipping into a pool of blood.

He heard shouting up ahead and hesitated momentarily before Eragon pushed open the door.

The hooded figure in the centre of the room turned and aimed their bow at him, and he found himself at the business end of a weapon from this woman, the second time this night.

"Please don't let this become a theme..."