A Twist Of Fate A Percy Jackson and Eragon Crossover

Assault on Helgrind

A/N I'm sorry this took so long, I had writer's block on this story for quite a while. I got my inspiration back after I recently listened to the inheritance cycle audiobooks. 

Percy's POV

Daybreak was fifteen minutes away when Eragon woke Roran and me, then we all gathered up our blankets and put them away. Roran and Eragon looked at each other and shivered with excitement. "If I die," said Roran, "you will see to Katrina?" "I shall." "Tell her then that I went into battle with joy in my heart and her name upon my lips." "I shall."

Eragon muttered a quick line in the ancient language. "There. That will filter the air in front of us and protect us from the paralyzing effects of the Ra'zac's breath."

We donned our armour and weapons, and Ágrios and Saphira seemed eager to get going. Saphira kneaded the soil beneath her feet. "Let us be off!"

We left our bags and supplies hanging from the branches of a juniper tree, Eragon and Roran clambered onto Saphira's back. and I climbed onto Ágrios's We didn't waste time saddling our dragons, they had worn their tack through the night. Shale cracked under Saphira and Ágrios as they crouched preparing to take off. In a single bound, they leaped up to the rim of the gulch, balanced for a moment before unfolding their wings. and raising them toward the sky. They jumped again and lowered their wings driving them higher into the air. With each subsequent flap, they climbed closer to the flat, narrow clouds.

A fan of golden light flared into existence as the top of the sun crested the horizon. In an instant, the full spectrum of colors enlivened the previously drab world: the mist glowed white, the water became a rich blue, the daubed-mud wall that encircled the center of Dras-Leona revealed its dingy yellow sides, the trees cloaked themselves in every shade of green, and the soil blushed red and orange. Helgrind, however, remained as it always was—black. The mountain of stone rapidly grew larger as they approached. Even from the air, it was intimidating. Diving toward the base of Helgrind, Saphira and Ágrios tilted so far to the left, Eragon and Roran and I would have fallen if we had not already strapped our legs tinto our saddles.

They flew over the altar where the priests of Helgrind observed their ceremonies. A great weight seemed to press me into my seat as Ágrios pulled out of his dive and spiraled up around Helgrind, I had also noticed that the slaves were gone, so the ra'zac must be in Helgrind. Now we were searching for an entrance to the Ra'zac's hideout.

"Not even a hole big enough for a woodrat," Saphira declared. She slowed and hung in place before a ridge that connected the third lowest of the four peaks to the prominence above. The jagged buttress magnified the boom produced by each stroke of her wings until it was as loud as a thunderclap. A web of white veins adorned the backside of the crags and pillars, where frost had collected in the cracks that furrowed the rock. Nothing else disturbed the gloom of Helgrind's inky, windswept ramparts. No trees grew among the slanting stones, nor shrubs, grass, or lichen, nor did eagles dare nest upon the tower's broken ledges. True to its name, Helgrind was a place of death, and stood cloaked in the razor-sharp, sawtooth folds of its scarps and clefts like a bony specter risen to haunt the earth.

Saphira tried perching on a crumbling spur, as she did, she lost her balance for a moment and flared her wings to steady herself. Instead of brushing against the bulk of Helgrind, the tip of her right wing dipped into the rock and then back out again. The wall was an illusion! I realized Eragon and Saphira must have come to the same conclusion because Saphira began to push the tip of her snout toward the sheer rock, paused an inch or two away—as if waiting for a trap to spring—then continued her advance. Scale by scale, Saphira's head slid into Helgrind, abandoning the spur, she flung the rest of her body after her head. Ágrios soon followed behind her. An instant later, I found myself looking at a broad, vaulted cave suffused with the warm glow of morning. Ágrios and Saphira's scales refracted the light, casting thousands of shifting Green and blue flecks across the rock.