Luminescent (Inheritance Cycle and Beyond)

Chapter Fifty-Three: Brilliant

Eragon and I wandered through the camp for another hour or so, pausing by the fires where men, dwarves, and Urgals still sat awake. Eragon spoke briefly with each of the warriors we met, inquired whether they were fairly treated, commiserated about their sore feet and short rations, and sometimes exchanged a quip or two. I knew what he was trying to do, he was trying to raise their spirits.

The Urgals were in the best mood; they seemed delighted about the upcoming battle and the opportunities for the glory that it would provide. While Eragon talked to the soldiers, I was spreading false rumors about where Eragon and I would be during the battle. We hoped that my father's spies would repeat the lie to him as soon as the alarms woke my father the following morning.

I could tell that Eragon was wondering if any of the soldiers around us were spies. He was paying extra attention to see if anyone was following us.

"I think we are good," Eragon said in my mind.

"Shall we head for Elva's tent?" Eragon nodded, and we wove our way through the camp until we came upon Elva's teat.

Eragon knocked on the center pole: once, twice, three times. There was no response, so he knocked again, this time louder and longer. A moment later, I heard a sleepy groan and the rustle of shifting blankets. A small hand-pulled aside the entrance flap and the witch-child, Elva, emerged.

She wore a dark robe much too large for her, and by the faint light of a torch some yards away, she was definitely frowning at Eragon.

"What do you want, Eragon?" Elva demanded.

"Can't you tell?" Her frown deepened, and I elbowed Eragon in the ribs. He shot me a dirty to which I returned.

"No, I can't, only that you want something badly enough to wake me in the middle of the night, which even an idiot could see. What is it? I get little enough rest as is, so this had best be important."

It's time, Elva," I said softly, her eyes drifted to me, and a wry smile flashed across her face.

"Such irony, the mighty warrior relying upon a child to kill the one he cannot."

"Will you help?" I asked, Elva, looked down and scuffed her bare foot against the ground.

"If you do, all this"—Eragon motioned toward the camp and the city beyond—"may end far sooner, and then you will not have to endure quite so much—"

"I'll help." She stamped her foot and glared at Eragon. "You don't have to bribe me. I was going to help anyway. I'm not about to let Galbatorix destroy the Varden just because I don't like you. You're not that important, Eragon. Besides, I made a promise to Nasuada, and I intend to keep it." She cocked her head.

"There's something you're not telling me. Something you're afraid Galbatorix will find out before we attack. Something about—"

The sound of clanking chains interrupted her. My headshot to the city and my heart dropped.

"Get ready, we are leaving immediately when the chance arises." Elva nodded at me and disappeared into her tent.

The clanking continued for a short while, then there was a hollow boom, followed by silence. A shiver of horror ran down Eragon's spine. The sound was unmistakably that of a dragon walking on stone. But what a dragon, to hear its steps from over a mile away!

"Is that?" I nodded at Eragon.

"Shruikan."

Throughout the camp, alarm horns blared, and men, dwarves, and Urgals lit torches as the army scrambled to wakefulness. Eragon and I were soon joined by Elva and Greta, her caretaker.