Chapter XXXVI: Witch in Hiding
I sat up, pushing the blankets aside in favour of getting up. I might not normally be a morning person, but I was used to constantly doing something due to the last week and a bit spent on the run. I yawned and stretched, glad for the soft bed.
I looked around, and spotted a large cat sitting on the edge of the cave, licking a paw. I frowned, before I figured out why he was familiar. Greetings Solembum, I said to the werecat.
Well met vinr abr du Shur'tugal, Solembum said with a flick of his tail. Has the other one grown any more observant?
I looked over at Eragon, who looked like he was stirring. I shrugged, who am I to speak for him? He has grown, but don't we all?
The werecat shook his rough mane and yawned. He has awoken, the werecat said before stretching, and jumping out of the cave. Coming?
I tossed a glance at Eragon who looked slightly bewildered. Eragon looked at Saphira while I started descending from the cave. Solembum waited beneath the arch that led to the rest of Tronjheim.
The moment Eragon stood next to me, the werecat turned with a flick of his paws and disappeared through the arch. Eragon and I chased after him, descending down The Endless Staircase – Vol Turin – to the next level.
We stood in an open arcade that curved gently to the left and encircled Tronjheim's central chamber. Between the slender columns supported the arches, Isidar Mithrim could be seen sparking above. With each successive level, the circumference of the central chamber increased.
Eragon and I followed the illusive werecat through numerous abandoned passageways and corridors. Solembum stopped at a door and yowled. The door slid inward and the large werecat slipped inside. I stopped in front of the door, raising my hand to knock, with Eragon waiting behind me. However, before I could, the door opened once more and warm light spilled out.
We entered an earthy two-room suite, lavishly decorated with carved wood and clinging plants. The air was warm, fresh, and humid. Bright lanterns hung on the walls and from the low ceiling. Piles of intriguing items cluttered the floor, obscuring the corners. A large four-poster bed, curtained by even more plants, was in the far room. In the centre of the main room, on a plush leather chair, sat the fortuneteller and witch, Angela. She smiled brightly.
"What are you doing here?" Eragon blurted.
Angela folded her hands in her lap. "Well, you can sit on the floor and I'll tell you. I'd offer you a seat, but I'm afraid I'm sitting on the only chair." I sat down, casting a concerned look at the flask of acrid bubbling green potion next to me.
"So!" Angela exclaimed, leaning forward. "Eragon is a Rider. I suspected as much, but I didn't know for certain until yesterday. I'm sure Solembum knew, but he certainly didn't tell me. I probably should have figured it out the moment you mentioned Brom. Saphira... I like the name – fitting for a dragon."
"Brom's dead," Eragon said bluntly. "The Ra'zac killed him."
Angela was taken aback. She twirled a lock of her dense curls. "I'm sorry. I truly am," she said softly.
Eragon smiled bitterly and I frowned. "But you're not surprised, are you?" Eragon asked, "You fortold his death, after all."
"I didn't know whose death it would be," she said, shaking her head. "But no... I'm not surprised. I met Brom once or twice. He didn't care for my 'frivolous' attitude towards magic. It irritated him."
I frowned. "In Teirm you laughed at his fate and said it was something of a joke. Why?"
Angela's face tightened momentarily. "In retrospect, it was in rather bad taste, but I didn't know what would befall him. How do I put this?" She paused, "Brom was cursed in a way. It was his wyrd to fail at all of his tasks except one, although through no fault of his own. He was chosen as a Rider, but his dragon was killed. He loved a woman, but it was his affection that was her undoing. And he was chosen, I assume, to guard and train you, but in the end he failed at that as well. The only thing he succeeded at was killing Morzan, and a better deed he couldn't have done."
"Brom never mentioned a woman to me," retorted Eragon.
"It's not as if he told his whole life to you either," I pointed out. "You didn't know he was a Rider until he was on his deathbed."
"So, you did know beforehand then?" Eragon asked, turning to face me angrily.
"Brom had his riddles, and I was curious enough to try and solve them, and question them," I responded.
"To answer you Eragon, I heard from one who couldn't have lied. Nonetheless, we should no trouble the dead with our worries, life goes on." She scooped a pile of reeds from the floor and deftly starting plaiting them together.
"So why are you in Tronjheim instead of Teirm?" I asked.
"Ah, at last an interesting question," Angela said. "After hearing Brom's name again during your visit, I sensed a return of the past in Algaësia. People were whispering that the Empire was hunting a Rider. I knew then that the Varden's dragon egg must have been hatched, so I closed my shop and set out to learn more."
"You knew about the egg?" Eragon asked.
"Of course I did. I'm not an idiot. I've been around much longer than you would believe. Very little happens that I don't know about." She paused and concentrated on her weaving. "Anyway, I knew I had to get to the Varden as fast as possible. I've been here for nearly a month now, though I really don't care for this place – it's far too musty for my taste. And everyone in Farthen Dûr is so serious and noble. They're probably all doomed to tragic deaths anyway." She gave a long sigh, a mocking expression on her face. "And the dwarves are just a superstitious bunch of ninnies, content to hammer rocks all their lives. The only redeeming aspect of this place is all the mushrooms and fungi that grow inside Farhten Dûr."
"Then why stay?" I asked, and Eragon smiled at Angela's frustrated speech.
"Because I like to be wherever important events are occurring," Angela said, cocking her head. "Besides, if I had stayed in Teirm, Solembum would have left without me, and I enjoy his company. But tell me, what adventures have befallen you since we last talked?"
Over the next hour, Eragon and I summarised our experiences of the last two and a half months. Anegla listened quietly, but when I mentioned Murtagh's name she sputtered, "Murtagh!"
"I've known who he is for a while."
Eragon nodded in agreement, "Let us finish our story before you make any judgements," he said.
When the tale was complete, Angela leaned back in her chair thoughtfully, her reeds forgotten. Without warning, Solembum jumped out of a hiding place and landed in her lap. He curled up, and Angela petted the werecat. "Fascinating. Galbatorix allied with the Urgals, and Murtagh finally out in the open... I'd warn you two to be careful with Murtagh, but you're obviously aware of the danger."
"Murtagh has been a steadfast friend," I said.
"Not to mention, he's also been an unwavering ally," Eragon said firmly.
"All the same, be careful." Angela paused, then said distastefully, "And then there's the matter of this Shade, Durza. I think he's the greatest threat to the Varden right now, aside from Galbatorix. I loathe Shades – they practise the most unholy magic, after necromancy. I'd like to dig his heart out with a dull hairpin and feed it to a pig!"
"What makes them so evil?" I asked, "Brom said that they were sorcerers who used spirits to accomplish their will."
Angela shook her head. "It doesn't. Ordinary sorcerers are just that, ordinary – neither better nor worse than the rest of us. They use their magical strength to control spirits and the spirits' powers. Shades, however, relinquish that control in their search for greater power and allow their bodies to be controlled by spirits. Unfortunately, only the evilest spirits seek to possess humans, and once ensconced they never leave. Such possession can happen by accident if a sorcerer summons a spirit stronger than himself. The problem is, once a Shade is created, it's terribly difficult to kill. Only two people, Laetri the Elf and Irnstad the Rider, ever survived that feat."
I nodded, "We've heard the stories." Eragon gestured at the room. "Why are you living so high up in Tronjheim? Isn't it inconvenient being this isolated? And how did you get all this stuff up here?"
Angela threw back her head and laughed wryly. "Truthfully? I'm in hiding. When I first came to Tronjheim, I had a few days of peace – until one of guards who let me into Farthen Dûr blabbed about who I was. Then all the magic users here, though they barely rate the term, pestered me to join their secret group. Especially those drajl Twins who control it. Finally, I threatened to turn the lot of them into toads, excuse me, frogs, but when that didn't deter them, I sneaked up here in the middle of the night. It was less work than you might imagine, especially for one with my skills."
"Did you have to let the Twins into your mind before you were allowed into Farthen Dûr?" asked Eragon. "We were forced to let them sift through our memories."
A cold gleam leapt into Angela's eye. "The Twins wouldn't dare probe me, for fear of what I might do to them. Oh, they'd love to, but t
hey know the effort would leave them broken and gibbering nonsense. I've been coming here long before the Varden began examining people's minds... and they're not about to start on me now. Now, Umaroth, has anything of real interest happened around you? Solembum did say you would surprise us all."
I shook my head, feeling slightly like I had let Solembum and Angela down. "It doesn't matter," Angela said with a wave of her hand. "The time that has passed has only been the blink of an eye. I'm sure you'll surprise us sometime, when we're least expecting it."
I paused, "Oh, Istal – my horse – he can speak. I suppose that's something interesting."
Angela blinked in surprise, and frowned in thought. "A horse? Nothing magical about him?"
I smiled, "No, he learnt," I responded. "Brom... guessed that it might've been due to wild magic or Saphira's magic rubbing off on him."
Angela peered into the other room and said, "Well! This has been an elightening talk, but I'm afraid you have to go now. My brew of mandrake root and newt's tongue is about to boil, and it needs attending. Do come back again when you have the time. And please don't tell anyone that I'm here. I'd hate to move again. It would make me very... irritated. And you don't want to see me irritated!"
"We'll keep your secret," Eragon assured, as we both got up.
Solembum jumped off Angela's lap as she stood. "Good!" She exclaimed.
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Long time no see? I'm not actually continuing this - but I thought it was updated to the full extent that I'd written, which was the entire thing. Apparently, that was not true. So, in responding to someone's comments today, I realised that I decided I would complete everything.
As it currently stands, I am deeply sorry but I will be leaving this fic behind as it currently stands. I plan to rewrite it and come up with a new plot, as there are a few things I'd like to change and I'd like to make the plot a fair bit more intriguing. On top of that, I'd likely be moving across to AO3 for the new form of this book, which is where most of my fanfic writing takes place. If you wish to find me there, I'm under the name FiresFromOurHearts.
Super sorry about everything, but I hope you enjoy the rest of the book as it stands.