This chapter has some graphic material. Read at your own discretion.
***
Cold dread filled my heart at those words. What is he doing? He was still staring intently at me, Zar'roc held at his side. There was a satisfied smirk on my brother's face that I wished very badly I could slap off. But my father...there was an odd look on his face. It could have been surprise... or worry.
Tabby! Amera screamed inside my head. Do not do this!
I don't know what choice I have, Amera, I said to her, placing my hand on the hilt of Manin where it rested on my hip.
Tabatha, this is too dangerous. This time, it was Eragon's voice in my head. I looked to him and saw genuine fear in his eyes, and I knew from his reaction that my face mirrored his.
He will kill Nasuada if I don't. Or Amera... Eragon, I must. Eragon was trying desperately to open his mouth to say something, but Galbatorix's power kept him firmly in place. I turned back to face the dais and noticed Murtagh was walking towards me, his face an unreadable mask. My heartbeat quickened and I swallowed the lump in my throat. So this was the deciding moment...
"Wait!" My father's voice resounded throughout the chamber, and Murtagh halted his steps, seemingly caught in a spell. But he continued to stare me down, though his gaze wavered slightly. I saw his brow furrow in anger, but this time, I did not think it was directed at me. "I have a better idea," the king continued. My brother looked at him quizzically, but held his tongue.
"Yes, Your Majesty?" Murtagh asked pointedly, never taking his eyes off me.
"Léod will fight Tabatha, as he suggested. The outcome will decide who will be my heir." Amera hissed behind me. I meant to say something, to challenge him, but he continued on. "Murtagh will fight Eragon. Both sons of Morzan against one another. The winner will determine who will rank highest amongst my new order. If Tabatha is the victor, it will also decide who will rule at her side and produce more heirs to further my line."
"You are wrong," Eragon suddenly said aloud, finding his voice. Galbatorix's hold had weakened in his indecision about who I should fight. "Morzan only had one son. Brom was my father." The shock was visible on Murtagh's face, but Galbatorix only faltered slightly.
"Brom," he said quietly. "Yes, it all makes sense now. No matter... you both bear the blood of a Rider. Whoever is victorious will strengthen my bloodline only that much more."
"You can't be serious!" I said, gritting my teeth in anger.
"Oh, I'm quite serious, daughter. This is a prime opportunity, actually. I would have tested you all anyways after you swore fealty to me; why not get it out of the way from the beginning?" That wicked gleam had returned to his eyes, and a small smirk played at his lips. Léod seemed pleased as well. This was the chance he'd been waiting for forever; to show me up in front of our father and prove he was the better offspring.
"Don't tell me you're scared, Tabatha," my brother sneered, letting out a little chuckle. Murtagh seemed hesitant, as though he wasn't sure if he would do what the king said. But he didn't have a choice, and neither did I, it seemed.
You must kill him, Tabatha. I know you can. Amera was still immobile, but I could feel the tension building in her body.
I do not know that I want to kill him, Amera. He is my brother after all, however cruel and twisted he has become... I will do what I can. I drew Manin from its sheath, seeing the amethyst color of the blade sparkle brilliantly. "I do not fear you, brother," I spat venomously. "And I will defeat you." He laughed again and took a step off the dais. Galbatorix spoke a few words and I watched as Arya, Saphira, Elva, and Amera slid away from the dais, creating an open space for the battles that were about to take place. My brother came toward me, his dark eyes gleaming with malice. I looked to Murtagh and saw he was watching us intently, though he strode toward his own battle with Eragon. What was he up to?
Tabatha, be careful. I know only what you have told me of your brother, but he does not seem like the kind to fight fairly, Eragon said, settling into his own stance across from Murtagh.
No, he does not. You watch yourself too, Eragon. I don't know what's going on with Murtagh, but something is wrong. He assured me he would and then withdrew contact. I could feel some of the Eldunarí pressing close by, in case I needed their strength, and I was glad for that. I might need it against Léod. We had never fought before, so I could not be prepared for what he would do. This time, he would not attack me while my back was turned; this time, he'd have to face me head on.
I tried to stay focused on the fight before me, but with Eragon and Murtagh so close, I was finding it extremely difficult. Focus, Tabatha. Your life is on the line. You must defeat him.
My brother didn't keep me waiting long. He struck first, the dark edge of his blade swinging towards me in a wide arc, but I blocked it easily. My shield was small, but it was sturdy and strengthened with wards. Léod's was larger, but that also meant it was more cumbersome and harder to maneuver. But his sword had greater reach than mine, not to mention he was taller than I was by about six inches. I was not weak, by any means, but the height advantage would be difficult to surmount. He attacked again, this time with a slash at my legs that I dodged just in time. My greaves would have protected me from any lasting harm, but the bruises would be painful all the same.
I didn't want to attack yet though. If I could watch him for a few more minutes, then maybe I'd be able to gauge more about his fighting style. He was powerful, that much was evident, and his moves held the practiced grace of a warrior that had been training practically since birth. After a few more slashes at my arms and chest, I surmised that he wasn't very creative with his fighting style. Very well; enough of this.
Manin moved like a flash of lightning in my hand, bouncing off his black steel bracer with a metallic clang. He seemed somewhat surprised that I'd managed to land a hit on my first attempt at offense, but the shock on his face was quickly replaced by rage. I made a jab at his stomach, which he swept away with his own sword and then attacked quickly with a swift combination. Behind us, I could hear Zar'roc and Brisingr striking each other.
"Is this the best you can do, sister?" Léod sneered hatefully, a wild look in his eyes.
"You haven't seen the half of it," I whispered, attacking him with renewed vigor. My magic coursed through me, though I knew that Galbatorix would stop the fight if I dared to use it. If that happened, my chance to silence my brother for good may be lost. So I kept it under control, only allowing it to supplement my strength and stamina.
I heard Eragon grunt in pain behind me, and I desperately wanted to make sure he was alright, but I knew I could not drop my guard. Léod would seize the first opening I gave him.
They're both alright, Amera growled. Each battle is equally matched. I cannot see an end to this. You may not have a choice but to kill him, Tabby.
Tell me if things start going badly for Eragon, I replied, but then I returned my focus to the task at hand. Léod was coming at me again with a particularly vicious set of attacks. I could tell the wards around my shield were faltering; I needed to start attacking him and wearing him down.
Another blow landed on my shield and I pushed back, taking Léod by surprise. As he recovered, I began to slash mercilessly at his shield, forcing him to retreat momentarily. I aimed a blow at his greaves and watched as the metal dented slightly under my sword. He jumped back in surprise, cursing at the sudden pain. But I didn't allow him a moment's respite. Manin came down upon his shield again, chipping away at the painted wood and causing little splinters to fly everywhere. He raised his shield to protect his face and head, but while I continued my onslaught upon his shield, he made a quick swipe at my stomach that bit into the chainmail of my hauberk. I cried out and stumbled back at the pain.
Tabatha! It was Eragon's voice. He and Murtagh were still locked in combat, but I could feel his concern radiating towards me.
Are you alright? Amera asked.
I put a hand to my stomach, never taking my eyes off Léod, and pulled it away to find it stained crimson. Damn him. I'm cut, but I'm fine, I replied. I sent Eragon the same reassurance and felt him ease a little bit. I reached into the wellspring of power within me and sent it to the wound on my stomach, if only to stop the bleeding and ease the pain a bit.
Léod didn't give me a chance to rest, not that I expected him to. He attacked again, this time burying his sword into my shield and ripping it forcefully from my arm. I heard a crack as the straps came free and the shield flew across the chamber, landing some ten feet away in a splintered heap. Pain shot up my arm, but I didn't think it was broken. I could still move it. I grasped Manin with both hands, crouching lower and circling slowly.
"You may have drawn first blood," I growled, "but don't think for a moment that it means you have the upper hand."
He laughed mirthlessly. "I know that I have never had the upper hand, sister. Father has always favored the daughter he hadn't seen in nearly sixteen years over the son that was right in front of him the whole time." His words sent an icy shock through my chest, but I didn't let him see me falter. "He thinks you're so special, and I can see that you think it too. And that is why I must win: to prove him wrong."
"Enough of this talk," Galbatorix said, though I quickly realized he was not talking to his children. For a moment, I wondered what was happening between the two men that meant the most to me in this world. But my brother interrupted those thoughts.
Our blades connected mid-air, the force of the impact sending a shockwave up my arms. When he pulled away, I continued my assault on his shield until it was utterly useless. Léod flung the shield aside and grasped his sword, though the hilt was barely large enough for both of his hands. With a fearsome cry, he surged forward on a burst of speed, aiming for my neck. I brought my sword up to block him, but he continued pushing forward and I lost my footing. The steps of the dais dug into my back painfully, but I never lost my grip on Manin.
My brother stood over me, the look on his face almost deranged. I could tell he meant to kill me, but not for any fault of my own. Galbatorix had turned him into the twisted man that stood before me. There was only pure hatred in his eyes, and a sudden feeling of pity washed over me. My mother had saved me, but she couldn't save Léod. It was no fault of his that our father had corrupted him beyond all recognition.
"Léod," I whispered, still desperately trying to keep his sword from slicing me, "let me save you."
His eyes went wide and his grip on his sword slackened. I pushed forward slightly, furthering the distance between his blade and my neck. His mouth hung open slightly, but then the look of surprise faded away. It was replaced by a fiery hatred. "I do not want to be saved, sister! You will bow to me, and then you will be the one needing the saving!" He drew his sword arm back to bring it down upon me, but I took his moment of blindness and rolled to the side, sliding off the steps and onto the cool, marble floor. He made to come after me, but I was too quick for him.
Manin reached around behind his leg, digging into flesh and tearing muscle from bone. He cried out in agony as I hamstrung him and then fell to the ground, a pool of red slowly eeking out from under him. Tears of pain traced down his cheeks and he held onto his wound, though I'm sure that did little to ease his agony. I stood up and loomed over him, placing the point of my sword at the base of his throat.
"Tabatha!" Galbatorix boomed. "Leave him." I looked at our father, pouring all of my anger and hatred for him into that gaze. He was smiling, but only slightly.
"This monster will not be allowed to—"
Whatever I'd been about to say was lost to me. The roar of a dragon split the air, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with feelings of panic. I turned to see Saphira struggling desperately against Galbatorix's hold, but in vain. And then I saw...
"Eragon!" I screamed. Zar'roc was buried in his side, scarlet blood staining its already-crimson blade. Murtagh jerked the blade out of his body and Eragon slumped forward with a grunt of pain. I wanted desperately to run to him, but I wasn't sure how Murtagh would react. Eragon looked down at his wound, and then up at me. And in his dark eyes I saw... an apology?
Brisingr came sweeping up from where it was resting at his side. He placed both hands on the pommel and pushed it with all his strength, cutting through Murtagh's armor and into his flesh. Thorn bellowed out a tortured sound as a gasp caught in my throat when I realized that had been Eragon's plan all along. Eragon withdrew his sapphire sword, now mixed with shocking red, and Murtagh stumbled forward. I went to Eragon then and dropped to my knees next to him.
"You tricked me," Murtagh groaned, spitting out a glob of blood to mar the white marble floor.
"And you tried to kill me," Eragon retorted angrily, holding onto his wound as blood seeped between his fingers. Murtagh's eyes shifted to me slightly, and I saw the pain deep within them.
"I had to," he whispered. "You cannot defeat him; none of you can. He is too powerful. If I defeated you, I could at least try and ensure your safety... all of you."
Now I understood.
"Murtagh..." I don't know what I meant to say. Words could not express the many things I was feeling in that moment.
"Why?" Eragon said.
Murtagh took a moment to catch his breath after spitting out more blood. "I have never known what it means to fight for anyone other than myself, until... Well, now I understand. Now... we understand." He looked at Thorn, who was watching us intently with his crimson eyes. The dragon let out a strange whimper and shifted his weight restlessly. "We understand..." he whispered again. And when he looked at me once more, there was something different in his grey eyes. Something... changed.
"Well done, both of you," Galbatorix said, cutting through my thoughts and ending the conversation. He was looking between Eragon and me with a triumphant sort of sneer, sending my blood to boiling once more. "It does my heart good to know my bloodline will be strengthened, though I had hoped it would be Morzan's blood that would mix with my own. No matter; the son of Brom will suffice."
I helped Eragon to his feet and made sure he could stand on his own before going to Murtagh. Dropping to a crouch before him, I grabbed him about the arm. "Can you stand?" I asked. He looked up and nodded slightly. I hauled him to his feet, though he stumbled slightly and had to steady himself on my shoulders.
"Be ready," he whispered suddenly, loud enough for both Eragon and I to hear. I didn't know what he was planning, but I passed the message along. He looked into my eyes and I knew for certain that something was different. But what? "I love you." My heartbeat raced in my chest at those words.
He turned suddenly and spoke the Word, which I now knew was the Name of all Names. I felt its power course throughout the room, but Murtagh did not halt. He began speaking quickly in a long string of words from the ancient language. I did not know what they all meant, but Galbatorix began to glow red and black, and there was a look of panic upon his face. Suddenly, streams of white light shot out of Galbatorix's chest and formed into a ring of twelve orbs over his head. With a screech, the lights shot up to the ceiling and then disappeared. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He was caught.
Murtagh finished his spell and then yelled, "Attack him now!" Amera, Thorn, and Saphira bounded across the chamber towards Shruikan. The great beast lifted his head at their approach, and I saw the glow of flames in his nostrils. Thorn latched onto his foreleg with wickedly sharp teeth and Saphira crawled up his black hide to latch onto the back of his neck. Amera worked at his foreleg alongside Thorn, tearing at his scales with her claws. As for the rest of us, we attacked Galbatorix with everything we had. I did not have time to question this sudden change in Murtagh, but I certainly thanked the Goddess for it.
I used my power to harness the fire in the lanterns and pushed them towards my father. They arced over his body and splashed against Shurikan's side behind him, eliciting a roar of agony from the great black dragon. Then I shot more discs of white energy at him, causing him to hold up his arms in defense. In addition to all that, I attacked him with my mind.
The crazed Eldunarí under my father's control were doing their best to hold us off, but the might of the other Eldunarí with us bolstered our strength. But even in this weakened state, and without my brother, Galbatorix's defenses were still too strong. He stood slowly from the throne, fury blazing in his dark eyes.
"Enough!" he cried, and then he spoke the Word once more. Everything seemed to still within the chamber, until Murtagh fell to his knees, clutching at his wound.
"I've stripped him of his wards, he's—" He was cut off by a wave of Galbatorix's hand.
"Silence!" he barked. "I'll deal with you later." He looked back at me and Eragon and slowly strode towards us. Eragon could not speak, but I certainly could.
"So, you've come to fight at last," I sneered.
"You all cannot hope to best me with your weak little minds," he replied, coming down off the last step of the dais. "So it seems I must subdue you with physical force." His white sword shone eerily in the light from the crystals high up above, reflecting up onto his face to give him a ghoulish look. I stepped in front of Eragon, trying to protect him as best I could. If this was to be the day I died, then I would not go down without a fight.
I held Manin aloft in a striking position, my face set into a scowl. "Come and try," was all I said. Galbatorix laughed slightly, and I quickly learned why.
White hot pain shot up my side and I fell to the ground. Tabatha! Amera screamed from across the chamber. I looked back to see a dagger protruding from my side, and Léod standing over me, though he favored his right leg heavily. He'd somehow managed to cross the room without me noticing.
"I told you I would defeat you, little sister," he laughed. And then he ripped the dagger free from my side, causing white spots to fill my vision from the pain. I grabbed Manin quickly and rolled to my back, kicking at his injured leg. He fell to the floor with a cry as Galbatorix jumped at Eragon, grabbing him by the collar.
Léod was crawling to his knees again, a grim look of determination upon his face. I must have hit my head during my fall, for blood was pouring into my right eye and blocking my vision. Quickly wiping it away, I got to my knees as well and lunged forward, aiming Manin straight for his heart while simultaneously shooting a disc of energy at him. He swiped the sword away, but the energy hit him square in the chest, ripping a scream from his throat. As I fell past him, his dagger sliced my cheek open. I was too much in shock from the wound to my side to feel any pain this time.
I caught myself on my hands and looked up to see Léod holding the dagger level with his shoulder, preparing to strike. "Still determined to save me, Tabatha?" he asked, a cruel smile upon his face. "There is no saving me, sister, not anymore. The only way to end this is for you to die!"
He began to bring the dagger down straight at my chest, but in his haste and anger, he'd left himself wide open. Though it wasn't what I wanted, I knew I had to. So I brought Manin up from underneath me, where he never saw it coming.
"You're wrong, brother," I said quietly as Manin slid through his abdomen as easily as a knife through butter. He gasped, the air having been driven out of his chest, and slumped against my shoulder. I pushed further, until the blade was buried to the hilt, and glimpsed the amethyst point poking out of his back. "It will end when you die." My brother shuddered violently against me and exhaled his last breath. I pushed him to the floor, ripping my blade free, and jumped up as quickly as I could to hurry to Eragon's side.
His eyes were squeezed shut in concentration, and I felt all of the Eldunarí channeling their power into him. What's going on? I joined my stream of consciousness to the others and realized that Eragon was crafting a spell without the use of words. Every single one of the dragons was helping him, pouring all of their anger, sorrow, and hate into this spell. The force of the magic nearly stole my breath away.
Galbatorix stumbled back, his hands holding onto his head and pain obvious on his face. "What have you done?" he roared, staggering away. I limped to Eragon's side and grasped his shoulder.
"What did you do, Eragon?" I asked weakly.
"I made him understand." The dragons suddenly snapped back into motion, renewing their assault on Shruikan. The great black dragon reared his head and snarled at the attack, trying to bat them away with his massive paws. But the younger dragons were too quick. Thorn latched onto his throat, keeping an iron grip while Amera and Saphira climbed up to the back of his head. While Shruikan was many times over their size, the weight of the three dragons upon his head was too much, and it fell back to the floor with an enormous thud.
"Make it stop!" Galbatorix screamed, holding his head in pain. "The pain! I can't... I never meant to..."
"No," Eragon growled, stepping towards him. The king lashed out with his sword, but Eragon was too far away. And the pain was too much to bear.
Arya rushed past us with the Dauthdaert held firmly in her hands. She hurried over to the dragons where they wrestled on the ground.
"Please!" the king begged, a word I never thought I'd hear from him. "Daughter, help me!" His desperate plea caught me by surprise.
"You are no father of mine!" I said. He let out another guttural sound of agony and stumbled further away. Suddenly, I felt my body begin to hum and buzz as my power flowed through me. Every fiber of my being seemed to be vibrating with energy, and when I looked at my hands, I saw they were glowing brightly with purple light. This was my chance.
I reached into the wellspring of my power and channeled it all into my hands, trying to focus and concentrate the energy into one bright, shuddering ball of destruction. My hands were shaking, but I held on as long as I could. The ball of light slowly spread out until I could contain the power no longer. With a cry, I directed the energy where I wished it to go... straight for my father's heart.
The energy flew out of my hands in a straight line and pierced him right in the chest. He stood stock still for a moment, his eyes held wide open in shock. Where the energy had pierced his chest, I saw blood begin to flow down the front of his tunic, seeping out in a gush of crimson. He staggered backwards, one hand still held to his temple. I did it.
An ear-shattering roar of pain filled the hall, making my ears ring. I looked at Shruikan and the other dragons and saw the Dauthdaert buried in his icy blue eye, blood pouring out and all over the floor. He fell, all of his weight crashing to the floor and shaking the entire castle. I lost my footing and fell to the ground, causing my wound to shoot with pain.
"I can't take it!" Galbatorix cried. And then two things happened at once: the little witch gave out a shriek and collapsed, and my father uttered two words in the ancient language. "Waíse neiat!"
A white glow began to surround him, and a buzzing filled the air. Eragon hurried to my side and put an arm around my shoulder. He was speaking quickly in the ancient language, though I didn't understand what was happening. The light surrounding my father was growing brighter, nearly blinding me. We began to move, though not of my own power. Whatever spell Eragon was crafting was moving all of us across the room to a single point: the block of stone where Nasuada was still shackled. Amera and the other dragons surrounded us, and Arya held Elva's unconscious form cradled in her arms. Eragon was still speaking, though I only knew this because his lips were moving. I could hear no sound above the high keening noise coming from the king.
I buried my face in his shoulder, hot tears streaming down my face. "Eragon!" I cried, gripping his tunic as tightly as I could. I could not hear my own voice, only feel the rough scraping of my scream against my throat. The light became unbearable and I squeezed my eyes shut. Eragon held me close to his chest, cradling my head in his hands and tucking his chin against my forehead. This was it. This is how we die.
And then... blessed silence.