Luminescent (Inheritance Cycle and Beyond)

Chapter Fifty-Eight: Brilliant

"You tricked me," Murtagh said after they stopped fighting.

"It was the only way," Murtagh grunted.

"That was always the difference between you and me." He eyed Eragon. "You were willing to sacrifice yourself. I wasn't. ... Not then."

"But now you are."

"I'm not the person I once was. I have Thorn and ..." Murtagh hesitated; then his shoulders rose and fell in a tiny shrug. "I'm not fighting for myself anymore. ... It makes a difference." He took a shallow breath and winced. "I used to think you were a fool to keep risking your life as you have. ... I know better now. I understand ... why. I understand. ..."

His eyes widened, and his grimace relaxed as if his pain was forgotten, and an inner light seemed to illuminate his features.

"I understand—we understand," Murtagh whispered as his eyes drifted to Mal's body, Thorn uttered a strange sound that was half whimper and half growl.

"Enough of this talk. Your duel is over, and Eragon has won. Now the time has arrived for our guests to bend their knees and give me their oaths of fealty."

"If only that were true. Your forgetting about me, father." The heads in the room turned towards Mal and found her standing next to Alethea. Anger filled her sharp blue eyes. With a wave of his hand, Mal staggard about before ultimately clutching onto her Dragon for support.

"I won't be having my own daughter using that tone with me." Galbatorix hissed.

I choked back a gasp as a sudden heaviness that filled my body. I stumbled around until I reached out for Alethea and latched onto her body for support. I lifted up my head to look up at Eragon and Murtagh.

They both were covered in a sheen of sweat but otherwise seemed unharmed except for the cuts they had given each other. My hands dug into Alethea's side as I connected my eyes with Murtagh's. Struggling, I raised my right arm and held it up at my father.

"Wiol ono," I whispered to Murtagh before focusing my energy on my father. I might not be able to move, but I could help Eragon. "Malthinae!"

My father's face became enraged as his moves started to get jerky, my spell made it very difficult for him to move. With a wave of his hand, I was flung from my spot and sent sliding across the floor until my back hit the stone dais. A grunt left my lips as I curled in on myself, my back flaring with pain.

Murtagh took this chance and started to shout the Word. The air around Galbatorix flashed red and black, and for an instant, his body appeared to be wreathed in flames. There was a sound like that of a high summer wind stirring the branches of an evergreen forest. Twelve orbs of light appeared around my father's head and fled outward from him and passed through the walls of the chamber and thus vanished.

Thorn spun around—as fast as a cat whose tail has been stepped on—and he pounced on Shruikan's immense neck. The black Dragon bellowed and scrambled backward, shaking his head in an attempt to throw Thorn off. The noise of his growls was painfully loud, and the floor shook from the weight of the two dragons.

On the steps of the dais, the two children screamed and covered their ears with their hands. Arya, Elva, and Saphira lurched forward, no longer bound by Galbatorix's magic. Dauthdaert in hand, Arya started toward the throne, while Saphira and Alethea loped toward where Thorn clung to Shruikan. All to soon, my father had them back under his control but foolishly leaving me free.