The Truth About Lies (An Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction)

The Journey Begins

"What do you mean?" Aunt Elain asked in that concerned voice that I was only too familiar with.

"When we started for their farm, the road was scraped smooth by the board he dragged Garrow on. Then we reached a place where the snow was all trampled and churned up. His footprints and signs of the board stopped there, but we found the same giant tracks we saw at the farm. And what about his legs? I can't believe he didn't notice losing that much skin. I didn't want to push him for answers earlier, but now I think I will."

"Maybe what he saw scared him so much that he doesn't want to talk about it," Aunt Elain said. "You saw how distraught he was."

"That still doesn't explain how he managed to get Garrow nearly all the way here without leaving any tracks." Aunt Elain and Uncle Horst kept talking but their voices faded when I glanced over at Eragon and saw that he was clearly distressed. Gently, I touched him on the shoulder. His head snapped around and I stared into his deep brown eyes.

"We should go," I whispered as softly as I could. He nodded his head in agreement and we continued on out the side door. I closed the door behind me as quietly as possible and trotted after Eragon.

There were hardly any people awake at this time of the morning, so the roads were relatively clear. "Saphira needs a saddle," Eragon said once we were clear of the house, "so this doesn't happen again." He gestured toward his legs.

"What happened?" I asked in confusion. I wasn't aware that he had any injuries until Uncle Horst had mentioned it a moment ago.

"That's right," he mumbled, "I didn't tell you. I rode Saphira bareback and her scales tore away the skin on my legs." I pondered this for a moment in confusion.

"You must have been moving around too much, because that didn't happen to me." He looked me up and down in confusion and I decided to veer the subject back to its original point. "We can go to Gedric's and take a few skins for Saphira's saddle." Eragon looked regretful at the thought of stealing. "You can pay him back one day." He nodded slightly, knowing that this was the only way.

We each cut down a couple skins from where they hung down off the ceiling off his small shop. The smell of the tanning vats was nearly unbearable. After the dirty work was done, we took the ox hides to a tree that was out of town to hide until all the supplies were gathered.

"We need food now," Eragon said. Suddenly, a devilish grin spread across his face.

"I know that face," I said, mouth twisted in amusement. "What are you up to?"

"If we're going to steal, why not steal from Sloan?" he said slyly. He was being very vindictive right now, but I didn't really pay it any mind. We just needed to make it quick and get out of here as soon as possible.

Silently, we headed over to the butcher's shop. I knew, and I'm sure that Eragon knew as well, that Sloan always kept the front door locked. The side door, however, was only latched with an old, rusty chain. Eragon shoved against the door with his shoulder and the chain easily broke. I kept watch while he took as much meat as he could get his hands on.

"Let's go," he whispered as he came out of the door, his sack bulging from all the meat he had stuffed down in there.

We headed back to the tree where the hides were hidden and I held the meat while he reached for them. Suddenly, his hand recoiled in shock. It was empty. "They're gone," he exclaimed.

"What?" I looked myself and saw that they had indeed been taken.

"You two going somewhere?" We both whirled around at the same time to see Brom standing there, an angry look on his face, an ugly wound on his head. My heart skipped a few beats. In his hands was the roll of hides.