Authoress note: Here it is, an update, and this one was much quicker than the previous ones. Hopefully I will be able to keep it up! CanadianGirl14, thank you so much for your kind words, and I do hope you continue to enjoy my story.

»«»«»«

Chapter 33 – Insatiable appetite

Murtagh staggered a little as he and Thorn returned to the top of the tower; crossing the door was like going through a cold waterfall. He inhaled with a loud sound and the relief was immediate.

Thorn shook his head as if he was trying to get rid of an unpleasant feeling and then turned his long neck around to look at the inconspicuous door. "If I had not seen it for myself, I would not have believed what lies beyond that door…"

"I am not quite sure yet I believe it myself", Murtagh replied in a strained voice. "All that energy… all that potential…"

Thorn directed a sharp look at him and said: "That energy was obtained at the cost of others, Murtagh."

The rider gave a distracted nod as he walked forward, but did not reply.

"Did you hear what I just say?" Thorn asked in a harsh tone, watching Murtagh as he walked to the stone parapet and rested both elbows on it.

"Yes Thorn, I heard you perfectly."

"And you disagree?" He didn't sound annoyed, but he didn't sound pleased it either.

"I… I don't disagree, not exactly, and I can understand why this upsets you, but the possibilities… Can you not see what we might accomplish with this new power?"

"Is that all that matters to you, Murtagh? All you care about is power, no matter where it comes from, is that it?"

"Why are you acting like this?" Murtagh snapped. Thorn glared at him, and he tried his best to stare him down, but he knew it wasn't a battle he was going to win anytime soon. "Look Thorn, if you could just put your emotions aside and-"

"You blind fool!" Thorn roared, shaking his head in disgust. "You just can't see it, can you?"

"What can't I see?" Murtagh said, clenching his fists and taking a step forward.

"That your insatiable appetite for power will be our ruin." With that last remark, Thorn rose upward, extending his wings, then with a leap and a bound he launched himself into the darkening sky.

"Don't be like-" Murtagh recoiled as his words hit a wall. "Thorn?" The dragon had blocked him from his mind, as Murtagh had once done to him.

He frowned as he watched Thorn flying away; the dragon had never resorted to such drastic measures.

He stayed by the parapet until darkness had completely taken hold, then slowly left the tower to eat and if possible, to rest.

»«»«»«

Kaila was tired, irritable and hungry; they had been traveling for hours with no sign of slowing down. Judging by the decline of the sunlight, dusk was near and they could only hope Tristan would stop to make camp for the night.

To her left, Agatha was biting down on her nails every few minutes; the habit annoyed Kaila, but she knew it was Agatha's way of coping with her nerves. She shot her a quick look but made no comments.

Noticing her stare, Agatha dropped her hand and asked: "How can you do it? How can you be so calm?"

"I'm not", Kaila replied with a weary sigh. "I'm terrified."

"But you look so calm…"

"Believe me, I am as scared and nervous as you are", Kaila said, rubbing her eyes. "But I am also very tired and very hungry, and incapable of attempting anything soon. Once we have a plan, I won't be as composed as I am, I can assure you."

"Why is he doing this? Lord Art, I mean. What does he want from you?"

Kaila watched her, clearly giving her answer some thought; there was still a shadow of doubt at the back of her mind about Agatha's true intentions. "I wish I knew… I have been trying to understand it myself, but I keep failing miserably."

Murtagh and Morcant could easily provide an explanation, but they had remained stubbornly silent. Agatha accepted her answer without further questions, but Kaila could not silence her own. She knew Murtagh and Morcant were only trying to protect her, but she could not help but resent them a little for keeping her in the dark.

If Tristan successfully delivered her to Lord Art, she would be completely unprepared and oblivious to his intentions. Not for the first time, she wondered if the solution to this mystery lay in her past, in the identity of her father.

Perhaps it was an issue requiring consideration, but she just could not summon the concentration to pursue it.

"We are stopping!"

Kaila snapped to attention at the sound of Agatha's voice; the wagon was finally rolling to a stop. They strained to hear something, but if Tristan was moving, he was noiseless.

"What is he waiting for?" Agatha mouthed at her.

Kaila shrugged, but then her ears picked up the sound of another wagon; she and Agatha exchanged nervous glances.

The other wagon came to a stop and heavy footsteps marched toward theirs; Kaila and Agatha held their breaths, too scared to speak. But they didn't need to exchange words to know what was going through each other's mind: if the newcomer was Lord Art, they were lost.

»«»«»«

After several hard shoves, the protesting door moved, age having made it reluctant. Katherine bent over and picked up the basket she had set on the ground to wrestle with the door, and carried it over to the table. Before closing the door, she busied herself lighting the lamps.

It was strange to return home to silence; she half-expected to see Morcant limping down the stairs to ask her what was for dinner. If all was going according to plan, the old man would be sleeping somewhere between Belatona and Melian; from there, they would travel as quickly as possible to join the Varden. It would be a long and perilous journey, but there was no such thing as a safe place these days.

Sighing, Katherine began sorting through her latest batch of fresh herbs and accommodating them on dry cloths that would be easy to transport. She had spent the day making the last preparations for her departure and Aidan had been out doing the same. They had agreed he would return at nightfall, so she expected him at any moment.

Long minutes went by and there was still no sign of Aidan; yawning, Katherine finished with the herbs and went to sit by the fireplace. She did not mean to sleep, but the warmth emanating from the fire was so comforting that she found herself drifting off.

A sharp knock on the door jerked her awake; without thinking, she was half-out of her chair, a dagger seeming to fly from her boot to her hand.

"It's me, Aidan", a strong voice boomed from the other side of the door.

Katherine relaxed and unlatched the door to allow him entrance. "Is everything alright?" she inquired as he lowered his hood with a deep frown. He nodded. "What took you so long?"

It was clear he didn't want to discuss his delay, though he alluded darkly to some goodbyes that had to be said. Katherine respected his vagueness, but a suspicion grew within her and she didn't like the way it made her feel.

"Is everything ready?" Aidan asked as he hung his cape on the back of a chair.

Katherine put aside her suspicions and told him the preparations she had made for their departure and Aidan shared his with her in return. When everything had been said, they sat in a comfortable silence by the fire.

"Will you miss this place?" Aidan asked after a while, stretching his legs so his feet were closer to the flames.

Katherine looked around at the small but tidy house that had been her home for the last eight years. "Yes, I'll miss it. It was the only place I could truly call home." Aidan grimaced and she knew exactly what he was thinking. "I know that there were people in Urû'Baen that loved me, but I never felt safe there. Losing my mum when I was so young was a hard blow; I only knew what kind of love that was when Ealga took me in. This house, along with her knowledge on the healing arts is everything I have."

"What will it take for you to understand that you are not alone?"

Katherine seemed to ignore his question and continued staring at the flames, but her mind struggled to find a way to give voice to her thoughts.

Aidan knew that her silence and stillness signified not indifference; it came from a deeply rooted idea that showing emotion meant being weak. That idea had been drilled onto her by her father, and after his death, by her older brother.

Katherine wanted to tell him how much it meant to her to have him back in her life, but she could not pull the words up, as if they were chained somewhere deep inside of her.

Aidan caught her by surprise as he rose from his chair and then knelt next to hers and placed his hands on the armrests. "I meant what I said to Morcant, Katherine; I have no intention of losing you again."

"Alright, I get it", Katherine said at last, twitching under the intensity of his stare.

"Good." Only then did Aidan withdraw, but his eyes never left her as he scrambled back to his seat.

"I- you know you can count on me as well, don't you?" Aidan nodded. "Good." Katherine bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling, but she was glowing on the inside.

»«»«»«

Kaila fought to control a surge of nausea as the door at the back of the wagon was unlocked; it only took a few seconds, but to Kaila it felt like an eternity.

The last sunrays framed a tall, broad-shouldered figure and behind it one that was smaller and rounder. Kaila and Agatha didn't move, blinded by the light and unable to see the features of the men watching them.

"Well, what are you waiting for, Agatha?" came Tristan's impatient voice from the left. "Come on, we don't have all day!"

"Shy, are they?"

Only the briefest of moments passed before Kaila felt the tension leaving her body; that deep voice did not belong to Lord Art.

Agatha drew a shaky breath and smoothed her hair before winking at Kaila and head towards the men. The newcomer stretched a hand to help her down and she took it after a moment's hesitation. "About bloody time, Tristan, my legs were growing numb in there."

Kaila noticed a faint trace of nervousness in her voice, but Tristan was too agitated to notice. "How is the girl?"

"Awake, but weak and in desperate need of a proper meal", Agatha informed him at the same time she observed the taller man. "And who's this?"

"There's no time for pleasantries, woman! All you need to know is that Lorcan and his companions will be traveling with us. Now get the girl out, we'll camp here for the night."

Kaila blinked as Lorcan opened the door further and looked at her intently; he seemed to be a few years older than her, and his face was covered in a thick, dark beard, but his eyes were surprisingly warm. He offered her his hand and she drew back with a warning hiss.

"Weak, you said?" he snorted, turning to Agatha, who shot Kaila a pleading look.

The last thing Kaila wanted was to appear weak before her enemies, but she knew that if she tried to climb down on her own, her legs would give in. And it was also in her best interest to appear vulnerable and stricken, so she reluctantly took Lorcan's hand.

His grasp was firm but gentle, and when her legs buckled as they touched the ground, he put a steadying hand at the small of her back. Kaila shuddered unpleasantly at his touch and felt relieved when Agatha stepped forward to help her.

After one last glance at her, Lorcan wandered off to talk to his companions. One of them had a mane of black hair and a savage look about him, while the other was slender and could easily be mistaken for a boy, if not for the wisps of grey on his greasy hair.

"Who are they?" Kaila whispered to Agatha as she led her to a fallen tree.

"Sell swords, most likely. Your escape attempt rattled Tristan and he probably wants to ensure it doesn't happen again." She sighed in defeat. "We can't escape with these men watching us…"

"I will think of something", Kaila muttered under her breath, even though her hopes had suffered a hard blow.

"Are you insane, child? There is no-"

"Shush! Tristan is coming!"

Tristan watched them suspiciously as Agatha helped Kaila onto the fallen tree and then said: "She'll behave, won't she?"

Agatha opened her mouth to reply but Kaila cut her off and looked Tristan in the eye as she said: "I can speak, so if you have something to say, say it to me."

"Alright, then", Tristan leaned forward and grinned conspiratorially, "I'll tell you something. If you try to escape again, my new friends there-" He flicked his chin at Lorcan and his men, "will hurt your old friend."

Dread gripped Kaila's heart as his words sunk in; beside Tristan, Agatha looked more nervous than surprised. "Where is Jonathan? What have you done to him?"

"He is alive, for now, but his survival – and his wellbeing – is tied to your behavior. Try something stupid and he'll pay the price."

A knot of anger swelled in her throat, but Kaila remained silent.

Seemingly satisfied, Tristan turned around and headed back toward the clearing.

"Did you know about this?"

"I…" Agatha shifted uncomfortably under Kaila's stare. "Yes, I did. Wait, let me explain!" she added, as Kaila seemed ready to interrupt. "Jonathan was caught shortly after you, and questioned by Tristan about your plans. When it was clear he knew nothing, Tristan decided to keep him as leverage. Jonathan was the one that convinced me to help you; he made me promise I would do whatever was necessary to free you, regardless of his own life."

Kaila dropped her gaze to the ground and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I can't do this… I can't do this…"

"Kaila-"

"My freedom is not worth more than Jonathan – or anyone's – life!" She brought her knees to her chest and buried her face in them.

"I do not know why Lord Art wants you, child, but I do know his intentions are not good. I cannot have my granddaughter back, but I will do everything in my power to hinder his plans, whatever they are."

"Jonathan doesn't deserve this…"

"It is up to you to decide how far you are willing to go to escape Lord Art."

And that was the very thing that tormented Kaila: if she showed complete disregard for other peoples' lives in order to protect her own, what would that say about her?

»«»«»«

Murtagh turned a few times, but sleep continued to evade him; cursing under his breath, he kicked the covers aside and got to his feet. Thorn's harsh words had left an indelible impression on him, but his pride and stubbornness prevented him from analyzing them further. That, and the many goblets of wine he had consumed all contributed to his lack of focus.

"Bloody dragon…"

Even as he said those words, he could feel the void left by Thorn's absence; the feeling was akin to losing a part of one's self. Driven by the urge to see him, Murtagh went to the window that overlooked the patio where Thorn had his accommodations.

The impenetrable darkness of the night almost made him turn away, but then the moon reappeared from behind a cloud and cast a white light down onto the yard. Thorn was sitting outside his quarters, his neck arched high to observe his rider's window. When the dragon noticed he was also being watched, he whipped his tail across the ground in annoyance and looked away.

Murtagh stepped back from the window and slumped down into a chair. He felt a brief stab of guilt for he knew his words had caused the rift between them, but he wasn't ready to apologize yet. However, when the sun rose, he would swallow his pride and go down to meet with Thorn and mend their differences.

Now, more than never, he wished Kaila was still around; she would tell him to stop being an idiot and go down immediately, and he would sulk and argue, but in the end, he would do it, because she always made him see sense. But Kaila was gone, so he had no one but himself to reason with.

"There is much we still have to learn about each other, Thorn…"

These words could not reach the dragon, but they were undoubtedly true; they had been through so much already, that it was easy to forget their bond could only be measured in months instead of years.

Did Eragon and Saphira face similar difficulties? Murtagh wondered as he rubbed his face with his hands. Eragon… another subject he was not ready to tackle. Groaning in frustration, Murtagh dragged himself back to bed and after a few more tosses and turns, a restless sleep finally came.

»«»«»«

The night was dark but the burning fires illuminated a scene that would forever remain imprinted in Katherine's mind: a battlefield swept by an icy wind that brought with it the smell of smoke, carnage and fear.

Blood poured from a deep gash in her forehead, but she could barely feel it; she could only look around in horror and despair as the Varden slowly, but surely, lost the battle against the Empire.

Then in the distance the sound of mighty wings beating upon the night air could be heard. Soon the sound resembled that of a hurricane which grew closer and closer until a titanic shape blotted out the stars.

Katherine lifted her eyes to the sky to behold the winged terror that was descending upon them and she screamed…

… she screamed into the night with nothing short of terror and absolute desperation. She sucked in a breath and felt the lingering dread of the nightmare slowly slipping away. Before her heartbeat had returned to normal, Aidan burst into her room, barefoot and shirtless, but clearly ready to fight off whatever had caused her to scream. His eyes darted over the room and then stopped as they found her, panting and wide eyed, sitting up in bed. "Katherine?"

Katherine held still afraid one slight movement might cause her to burst into tears. The dream had changed… victory had turned to defeat, elation to terror, hope to despair…

"Katherine, what happened?" The bed creaked as Aidan sat on the edge of the mattress.

She swallowed, trying to inject a measure of calm into her voice. "A nightmare…"

"Tell me about it."

And she did. Aidan listened intently as she recounted the dream that had shaken her so much, and then said: "It was just a nightmare, Katherine."

"You don't understand… these dreams that I have… they don't feel like ordinary dreams. They feel like… visions. Up until now I had seen the defeat of Galbatorix and the end of his reign of terror. I don't know why that changed now."

"Even if they are visions, that does not mean they are definite. The world is ever changing, and that which is certain today may change tomorrow." Katherine wrinkled her nose in disagreement and Aidan grinned, despite the seriousness of the matter. "You don't agree? You are a good example of how the world shifts."

"How so?"

"You were dead to me until you came and found me on that tavern. In my world, you had ceased to exist, but then it turned and there you were, alive again."

"That is not the same, I was never really dead. I just… I am scared, Aidan. There are things in motion that are bigger than us, and I don't know how we can possibly survive them. I used to think I wasn't afraid to die, but now…" The tears she had dreaded finally came, but this time she made no effort to hide them.

Aidan leaned forward and took her in his arms and murmured soothing words in her ear. Katherine stiffened, but then slowly relaxed. Aidan rubbed her back until her tears began to dry.

She wanted to stay in his embrace and forget everything but the feel of his strong, solid body, but at the same time, their newfound closeness unsettled her; she sniffed and pulled back from his arms. "How the world changes indeed…"

"How so?" he said sarcastically.

"Never did I imagine we would end up in the same bed, half-naked and embracing, and that you would get away with it without getting punched", she said, her attempt at humor nearly bringing her to tears again, but this time they were caused by a laughing fit the likes of which she had not felt in years.

»«»«»«

His eyes were glued to the mirror, taking in his reflection with an appraising glint. Never had he worn such rich garments or looked so magnificent; the king himself had sent him the clothes as a gift. He no longer felt like a lost eleven year old boy whose parents had died; in these clothes, he felt like he could conquer anything and ascend to the higher spheres.

"Arty!"

His expression hardened at the interruption, but he did not look away from the mirror as he spoke to his younger sister: "Go away, Katherine."

Bu little Katherine was determined to get his attention; she tugged at his sleeve until he finally looked down. "You look pretty", she said with a wide grin.

"Then stop wrinkling my clothes", he said, pulling free from her grasp and turning back to the mirror to inspect his reflection. He could see Katherine pouting in the background, but at least she didn't cry; he couldn't stand it when she cried. He smoothed his clothes one more time and twirled slowly to ensure everything was in place.

The idea of seeing the king face to face frightened him, but it also excited him. Galbatorix seldom granted audiences, and to be summoned directly by him was an even rarer occurrence, so Art intended to express his gratitude to the best of his ability.

And so he had when he had finally been taken to the king's presence. Galbatorix had spoken to him for hours, painting a picture of a bright future, a future where they would work together and share many glories. As an eleven year old, Art had been dazzled by the monarch's eloquence and by his grandiose plans. His mind had been filled with dreams of greatness he had never hoped to achieve, dreams that had inexorably faded over the years. That was, until he had found the letter…

The same letter now stood in his hands, the paper smooth and yellowed by so many years of handling. He had it memorized by now, but touching it soothed him. To think that the letter might have been lost forever if Katherine had not found it by accident as she played in their father's room…

Art gritted his teeth in annoyance as he entered his father's chambers and saw Katherine and her two inseparable friends playing there; as he opened his mouth to chastise them and kick them out, Katherine tripped and landed hard on the ground.

Aidan and Murtagh rushed to help her but she brushed them aside as her fingers inspected one of the stones that made up the floor. "There is something here… help me move this stone!"

Art crossed his arms impatiently and against his better judgment allowed them to stay; he watched as their little fingers dug around the stone to pull it free. He did not believe there was something to be found there, but when they gave little cries of triumph, he stepped forward.

"It's- it's a… letter?" Katherine said, clearly disappointed.

After that, it didn't take them long to wander off. As their voices faded away, Art sat on the bed to read the letter.

'My dear son… I do hope it is you who is reading this letter.

I could not tell you of its existence, for fear it would end up in the wrong hands, so forgive me if my words are a bit…vague. I have confidence in your ability to piece everything together, however long it takes. And it just might happen that I succeed in my quest and this letter will no longer be necessary, but if I fail…

The other day you found me in my room, mumbling and seemingly speaking words that made no sense. Do you remember those words, son? For your sake, I hope you do. I believe these words will give you the clue you need to understand what I am trying to tell you.

The quest I spoke of earlier…some would call it a fool's errand, but I am convinced it is real. The one I heard speaking of it is a powerful man, one of the few that remain. If I am not careful, and if my true intentions are discovered, I have no doubt I will pay with my life. If that comes to pass, I know you will not rest until I am avenged and my vision fulfilled.

I know you must be thinking I have lost my mind, but have some faith in your old man. With the risk of other people finding my letter, I will tell you this, and only this: the man of power of whom I speak has an accomplice, someone he trusts above anyone else. If he finds the ancient relic, he will entrust it to her, his accomplice, his love. He has no intention to speak of it, or deliver it, to the king, and personally I cannot blame him. And if it does contain what is said of it, he won't really have to, which is why I have to find it before him. But he is very powerful, and he will do everything he can to protect his woman and the child she carries. But I am stubborn, and I must try to, for the chance of a better future, a future of freedom. Should I fall… keep searching, my son, make the impossible happen.

Take care of your sister, for family is everything, and keep practicing your magic. And above all else…protect your thoughts at all times. Do not let anyone inside your mind, and guard your plans fiercely!'

And so had ended the cryptic message; Art did remember the words his father had mentioned, but for a long time they made no sense. "The book… the book is real… he knows where it is… he knows! I heard them speaking… they were whispering, but I heard them! He is going to send her to find it, but I must follow her! I must have the book! We will be powerful, son, powerful beyond measure!"

He had read many books and scrolls, but only found obscure references to an ancient culture whose relics had been lost or forgotten, but it was said that if those relics were to be found, they would bestow great power upon those who found them.

He had taken a long time to gather that information, but it took him twice more to discover the identity of the man of power and his accomplice. "A powerful man, one of the few that remain… he will do everything he can to protect his woman and the child that she carries."

These words had misled him and he had pursued the wrong person for a while, until an indiscretion from a servant had finally put him in what he hoped to be the right path.

Of course, he could not be sure she was the one until he breached her mind; he had refrained from attempting it for fear there was some hidden power within her. Nevertheless, that was not the only reason why he had stalled so much: what if she wasn't the child? Or, what if she was the child, but the ancient book had never been found? Or, even still, what if the book had never been real?

His nostrils flared as his mind returned to the present; he folded the letter and carefully put it inside a hidden pocket in his leather vest. Outside, the camp rang with the sounds of weapons being sharpened and the voices of soldiers, but inside his tent, Art could pretend he was somewhere else.

His eyes narrowed as he looked down at the bowl of water that was sitting in his makeshift desk. It was now fully dark, the flames adding a glow to everyone's faces; she was sitting between Agatha and Tristan, her eyes fixing a fire he could not see. Tristan was talking to someone on his right, possibly the guards he had told him to hire, but Art only had eyes for Kaila.

Her long brown hair was matted with filth and she looked paler than usual, but her green eyes had the same defiant spark he remembered. His mouth curved in a predatory smile as he wondered if she would look so defiant when they met again; he had also seen fear in her eyes before, but she had changed. No doubt Murtagh was to blame for the change, but Murtagh had let her go, and now she had no one to protect her. If he could just put his doubts aside, he had no doubt it would be fun to question her.

And if she knew nothing about the ancient book… well, he would deliver her to the king and let him do with her as he pleased. If he couldn't have endless power, he would settle for whatever Galbatorix was willing to give him.

To be continued…