Arianna Selenasdaughter

I didn’t go back to Carvahall after talking with the dragon. I didn’t want to be around Brom. He could always seem to tell what I was up too. He hadn’t ever broken into my mind though – I had wards all around it to keep people out. He just knew me too well, and that would have given me away.

Eragon left with Roran when he left to meet Dempton, and I stayed behind with Garrow. Nothing would happen to Eragon if he went into Carvahall today.

While Garrow sat down heavily at the table, probably wishing that he’d told Roran no, he couldn’t go, I cleaned up the table and washed the dishes. It was just busy work to me. I couldn’t afford to be idle today.

After I did the dishes, I moved on to something else. If I stopped, I was sure that I would have a break down.

I caught a brief glance of Eragon before he darted off into the woods. Good, I thought. Saphira would be sure to whisk him away to somewhere safe. Somewhere far away from here.

The Ra’zac didn’t come that night. Garrow was worried about Eragon. I told him there must’ve been a good reason why he hadn’t come home. I felt horrible. But I couldn’t tell him. People in Carvahall didn’t believe in magic. They’d probably have killed me if they’d known I had premonitions.

Eventually, Garrow went to sleep. I couldn’t have slept even if I’d wanted to. A horrible monster like me didn’t deserve to sleep.

They came a little after dawn. A quick rapping at the door. Garrow was at the table, eating breakfast. I wasn’t hungry. I got up to answer the door, pretending that I expected it to be Eragon. After all, that’s who Garrow was expecting it to be.

I opened the door quickly, and beheld the horrific sight of the Ra’zac. Garbed all in black, and slightly hunched, their presence instilled a quavering fear I’d never experienced before.

“Yes?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from trembling.

“Is Eragon here?” One of them asked in a horrible voice.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Every fiber in me was screaming at me to run, but I couldn’t. All I could do was answer the question.

“No, I’m afraid he’s out at the moment.”

Behind me, I could imagine a look of puzzlement, perhaps even bewilderment, on Garrow’s old face. How it pained me to stand there and be the slightest bit hospitable to them!

“A pity,” the other said, in an equally disturbing voice.

“Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful. Good day to you,” I added as I began to shut the door.

Before it could latch so that I could lock it, the first stuck his arm in the way and forced it open. I heard a chair scraping against the floor. Garrow was getting up.

“I told you that he’s not here. What-”

“Where’s the stone?” the second one asked.

Garrow came to stand by me. “Whatever you’re looking for, it’s not here,” he told them. “Now get out of my house.”

Without warning, one of them swung out and punched Garrow in the face. Crying out, I ran to aid him, but was restrained by the other one.

“Uncle!” I cried uselessly.

Before he could recover, it was upon him, restraining him. They asked us about the stone. Garrow told him what he knew of it, but that wasn’t enough. They wanted answers that he didn’t have.

I knew, but I couldn’t tell them without compromising Eragon’s safety. At one point, they used a clawed finger to draw a line down his cheekbone.

Their favorite method of torture was a liquid that they dropped on him. It burned away the flesh. He screamed in agony, but I could do nothing. Once they were finished with him, they turned to me, using the same method of torture, only on a lesser scale. I wished they’d do what they did to him to me. I deserved it.

“I don’t know anything,” I cried.

The pain was horrible to bear. Tears flew freely down my cheeks. Finally, after nearly an hour, they became frustrated and left. Their method of leaving, however, involved torching the house via an explosion.

I remembered trying to protect Garrow. Then everything turned black, and I knew no more.