The Truth About Lies (An Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction)

The Journey Begins

"We don't need any help...but you can come," he said begrudgingly after I shot him my most menacing glare.

"Then we had best be going," Brom said. "I think you'll find that your dragon will listen to you again." While Eragon was undoubtedly talking to Saphira, Brom came over to me, a disapproving look on his face. "What are you doing, Tabatha?" he growled.

"What does it look like? I'm getting out of here while I still can," I snapped, probably a bit too harshly. "My presence here is putting everyone in danger. If the soldiers find out that I'm around they'll know that all the townspeople lied to them. I won't put everyone in jeopardy." Brom huffed angrily.

"You're right," he said in a low voice. "Are you sure you're well enough though?"

"I feel fine." That was a lie. There were sharp jolts of pain in my side when I walked and a searing pain in my lungs every time I tried to breathe deeply. It was better than yesterday, but it was still hard to move. That seemed to mollify him though, for he merely grunted and nodded slightly.

Eragon finally came back to us and pointed over to the town. There were people running around and yelling, their voices muffled from this distance. "They must have noticed our absence, Tabby."

"Time to go then, I think," I said, pushing past the two men, and heading in the direction of what remained of Eragon's home.

When we finally reached the wreckage of the destroyed farm, a look of anger crossed Eragon's face. Little remained of the barn except for ash and soot. The house was filling with snow and dirt that covered the atrocity that the strangers had committed.

Suddenly, I could hear the sound of Saphira's wings coming through the trees. She circled around behind us and I was nearly knocked over from the gust of wind created by her wings. She landed gracefully, her scales glittering brilliantly.

Brom's expression suddenly became clouded and I did not know what to make of it, as I can usually read people fairly well. It was both mournful, and exuberant at the same time. He started mumbling some words but I couldn't make them out, nor understand them. His mumbling faded away as Saphira stepped forward.

Eragon walked toward the mighty dragon and greeted her, rubbing her neck lovingly. Saphira swung her great head and eyed Brom quizzically. He held a hand out and she moved closer to allow him to touch her. With a snort, she recoiled her head in shock and retreated behind Eragon. That was odd...

"What's her name?" Brom asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"Saphira," Eragon replied. A strange look suddenly passed over Brom's face. He struck the ground with his staff and he became very tense. "Of all the names you gave me, it was the only one she liked. I think it fits," Eragon added swiftly.

"It does," Brom said quietly. There was something odd in his voice. It could have been loss, or wonder, maybe fear, or perhaps envy...or maybe it was nothing at all. I wasn't sure. All that trauma must have dulled my senses: I was finding it harder to pick out the little nuances that usually allowed me to gauge a person's feelings just by looking at them. "Greetings," Brom said, raising his voice, "Saphira. I am honored to meet you." He twisted his hand in a strange way and bowed deeply.

After that little exchange, Eragon silently headed toward the ruined house. Brom followed behind Saphira with renewed vigor. I, however, followed a bit more slowly. The pain in my side had just heightened to where it was difficult to move without crying out. I watched as Eragon disappeared into the house, Brom following suit. He'll be looking for his bow and quiver. Too bad it won't be there. I must have lost it when the explosion knocked me off my feet, for I had it when I first arrived at the burning farm yesterday. Was it really only yesterday when all of this happened? It seemed ages ago.

After a while Eragon emerged from the wreckage-I'd decided not to chance injuring myself further by going inside the ruined building-and looked around in distress. "My bow and quiver are gone!" He looked at me in despair.

"I know," I said tentatively. He glanced at me in confusion. "I took them that night you disappeared when I went looking for you. I think I may have dropped them when I was hit by the wood splinter from the explosion."

"Where did you land? We'll look there first." I nodded and walked by memory to where I had been standing when the explosion hit. When we got there I walked a bit further and then saw the clearing I'd ended up in behind a line of trees. The bow and quiver weren't around anywhere nearby, so they must have been in the clearing. I didn't really want to go in there and see all of my blood that was most likely still frozen in the snow and ice.

When I walked into the clearing I saw a gigantic pool of blood. Sure enough, lying beside it was the bow and quiver. Eragon bent down and picked them up, slinging them both over his shoulders. "My gods, Tabby. You lost an enormous amount of blood."

"I know," I said softly, turning away. "Let's just get out of here, alright?" Eragon nodded slowly.

"What now?" Brom asked, staring down at the ground in morbid awe.

"We find a place to hide," Eragon replied.

"Do you have some place in mind?" I asked skeptically.

A smile spread across his face. "Yes," he replied.

The small clearing was just large enough for Saphira and us. Slowly, I helped clear away the snow and sat down on a blanket. Brom made the saddle for Saphira and put it on her to make sure that it fit. It was crude, but it would do for now.

After the saddle was made, Brom and Eragon sat over a simmering pot of stew, just talking for a while. Eragon was asking him all about the Riders of old and who those strangers were that had attacked the farm.

"Do you think dreams can be prophecies?" Eragon suddenly blurted out. Brom seemed taken aback and I stared at him quizzically.

"What do you mean?" I asked, drawing my knees up to my chest for warmth. Brom had started a small fire, but it did little to banish the chill.

"When I was asleep, at your uncle's, after Gertrude had given me the healing salve, I had a very strange dream. I just didn't know if maybe..."

"What was the dream, boy?" Brom inquired, leaning forward a bit.

Eragon seemed to hesitate, looking back and forth between me and Brom. "I dreamt of a ship, there were two people on the ship, and I had the overwhelming feeling that they were never to return. And there were...dragons. They flew overhead as a man stood on the shore, weeping. It didn't make any sense."

"Best not to dwell on it, Eragon," I muttered, pondering his strange dream myself. No good would come of this dream, that much I knew. The pain in my side was even worse than before, and an overwhelming sense of exhaustion came over me, so I decided to sleep to escape the pain. It didn't take long for me to wade into the darkness and lose consciousness. The last thing I saw before falling asleep was Brom pulling out a glistening red sword and holding it over the fire as the two men continued to talk well into the night.