Categories > Books > Eragon > The Secrets We Keep
Chapter 2
She woke up dazed and disorientated. Her hands were bound behind her back by a harsh rope and it was dark. Someone had deposited her on the ground. Turning from her uncomfortable position Arya tried to sit.
Suddenly the memories came flooding back to her mind. The Trap. Faolin and Glenwing. The egg - it had to be... had she managed?...she had to-
Before she could bring an end to the overwhelming thoughts, she felt that icy stare bore into her back and what had happened to the egg was suddenly of no importance anymore. Turning around cautiously, she now faced a fire, the warmth of the flames feeling soothing against her skin. On the other side on a fallen tree sat her captor, observing her every move intently. The soothing feeling the flames left on her not a minute ago had transformed into a low burning. His eyes now locked with hers, the red orbs burning into her devouring what little she had left of her dignity, she had to throw even that little part away and broke the contact first.
"You would have awakened sooner or later anyway."
Arya didn't know how to interpretate his sentence. She didn't know whether to answer or not, what to say if she did so, or if it was even smart to play the all too forward elf. She decided it was not. Silence was golden. He couldn't blame her for nothing she had never said.
The rope rubbed against her skin as she accomodated herself, and Arya went for a half-hearted attempt to wriggle her hands free.
"You will not succeed," her captor flatly pointed out.
/As if I hadn't known.../, she remarked silently.
The Shade's constant stare irritated Arya. Why was he looking at her all the time? Hadn't he observed her long enough during the trap? During the time after he had attacked her, hauled her onto his horse and had been in full control of her unconsious form?
She wanted to ignore him. His matter-of-fact tone annoyed her. The situation frustrated her. But the fact that she was here and not dead... relieved her, even if in a very uncomfortable way.
He wouldn't have kept her alive if not for the knowledge of the location of the egg. So she had succeeded - at least in that.
With the reassuring thought lingering in the back of her mind Arya took in their surroundings. They were not in Du Weldenvarden anymore, not anywhere near it in fact. The high trees of her home had instead transformed into grasy plains that dragged on for as long as she could see.
He must be taking her away. To Urû'baen. To Galbatorix...
As soon as that consideration had caused enough displeasure and she had thought of possible outcomes, which were inevitably all leading to her downfall in one way or the other, Arya dared to look at the Shade once more, defiance marking her features. She would not give in, no matter what awaited her. For the Varden. For the elves. For her fallen comrades who had given their life to prolong hers.
"Tomorrow we reach Gil'ead," he spoke as if he informed an old friend and companion of their future journey. "There is a mighty fortress in the midst of its city. You will be my guest for...," he pondered in search of the right word, before he grinned at her revealing his sharp teeth, "...for the next time."
He paused a bit before continuing.
"However, if you tell me of the egg's location now -- without further implications like whips and clubs and other common torture devices -- you may go."
As easy as he made it sound, she knew that the offer and the chance to escape all future torment, would be withdrawn as soon as the Shade knew the of the sapphire's whereabouts. How was he even daring to think that she would be so foolish and believe him? Did he really think her that incautious? That senseless?
She was not.
She was not. She was strong enough now, and she would be strong enough to endure whatever he had in mind for her. If it must be, she would take the secret with her and share it with her dead companions when it was time, laughing about the Shade and how he hadn't succeeded in getting one single elf to talk.
"Your arrogance will get you nowhere," the Shade concluded as her answer remained silence. She noticed the change in his voice, among the cool, uncaring tone there was brewing annoyance, irritation even.
Arya braced for an attack, a sign that he would not tolerate her behaviour - but none came.
The Shade had resumed his position as a silent observer of her every move, of her every thought it seemed to her. She made sure the barrier around her mind was as strong as she could afford before facing her captor again.
"What is your name?" he wanted to know and the traces of anger were gone from his voice again. The shadows of the flames danced on his face and made him look even more dangerous.
Arya stared into his fiery eyes, but her lips formed a tight line.
Her demeanor impressed him only little. He left his sitting position and came to her. Muscles tensing, Arya knew she wouldn't be able to do anything against whatever he had planned and realized that as golden as silence could be, it would only lead to her ruin in this case. Instead of attacking her though, the Shade knelt before her, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath upon her skin.
Her obvious annoyance only seemed to amuse him. He pulled back just a little and said:
"You will talk sooner or later. Defiance is something that dimishes very quickly."
He extended a hand towards her and his white, palid fingers left a cold trace upon her soft cheek, moving down her neck and going deeper still.
"My name is Durza."
His touch made her shiver inwardly.
"Remember that name. You will dread upon hearing it."
No sooner than he was finished, she suddenly felt a wave of burning energy errupting from his fingers, enclosing her whole body into a mist of blackness that was so thick she thought she would suffocate.
She woke up dazed and disorientated. Her hands were bound behind her back by a harsh rope and it was dark. Someone had deposited her on the ground. Turning from her uncomfortable position Arya tried to sit.
Suddenly the memories came flooding back to her mind. The Trap. Faolin and Glenwing. The egg - it had to be... had she managed?...she had to-
Before she could bring an end to the overwhelming thoughts, she felt that icy stare bore into her back and what had happened to the egg was suddenly of no importance anymore. Turning around cautiously, she now faced a fire, the warmth of the flames feeling soothing against her skin. On the other side on a fallen tree sat her captor, observing her every move intently. The soothing feeling the flames left on her not a minute ago had transformed into a low burning. His eyes now locked with hers, the red orbs burning into her devouring what little she had left of her dignity, she had to throw even that little part away and broke the contact first.
"You would have awakened sooner or later anyway."
Arya didn't know how to interpretate his sentence. She didn't know whether to answer or not, what to say if she did so, or if it was even smart to play the all too forward elf. She decided it was not. Silence was golden. He couldn't blame her for nothing she had never said.
The rope rubbed against her skin as she accomodated herself, and Arya went for a half-hearted attempt to wriggle her hands free.
"You will not succeed," her captor flatly pointed out.
/As if I hadn't known.../, she remarked silently.
The Shade's constant stare irritated Arya. Why was he looking at her all the time? Hadn't he observed her long enough during the trap? During the time after he had attacked her, hauled her onto his horse and had been in full control of her unconsious form?
She wanted to ignore him. His matter-of-fact tone annoyed her. The situation frustrated her. But the fact that she was here and not dead... relieved her, even if in a very uncomfortable way.
He wouldn't have kept her alive if not for the knowledge of the location of the egg. So she had succeeded - at least in that.
With the reassuring thought lingering in the back of her mind Arya took in their surroundings. They were not in Du Weldenvarden anymore, not anywhere near it in fact. The high trees of her home had instead transformed into grasy plains that dragged on for as long as she could see.
He must be taking her away. To Urû'baen. To Galbatorix...
As soon as that consideration had caused enough displeasure and she had thought of possible outcomes, which were inevitably all leading to her downfall in one way or the other, Arya dared to look at the Shade once more, defiance marking her features. She would not give in, no matter what awaited her. For the Varden. For the elves. For her fallen comrades who had given their life to prolong hers.
"Tomorrow we reach Gil'ead," he spoke as if he informed an old friend and companion of their future journey. "There is a mighty fortress in the midst of its city. You will be my guest for...," he pondered in search of the right word, before he grinned at her revealing his sharp teeth, "...for the next time."
He paused a bit before continuing.
"However, if you tell me of the egg's location now -- without further implications like whips and clubs and other common torture devices -- you may go."
As easy as he made it sound, she knew that the offer and the chance to escape all future torment, would be withdrawn as soon as the Shade knew the of the sapphire's whereabouts. How was he even daring to think that she would be so foolish and believe him? Did he really think her that incautious? That senseless?
She was not.
She was not. She was strong enough now, and she would be strong enough to endure whatever he had in mind for her. If it must be, she would take the secret with her and share it with her dead companions when it was time, laughing about the Shade and how he hadn't succeeded in getting one single elf to talk.
"Your arrogance will get you nowhere," the Shade concluded as her answer remained silence. She noticed the change in his voice, among the cool, uncaring tone there was brewing annoyance, irritation even.
Arya braced for an attack, a sign that he would not tolerate her behaviour - but none came.
The Shade had resumed his position as a silent observer of her every move, of her every thought it seemed to her. She made sure the barrier around her mind was as strong as she could afford before facing her captor again.
"What is your name?" he wanted to know and the traces of anger were gone from his voice again. The shadows of the flames danced on his face and made him look even more dangerous.
Arya stared into his fiery eyes, but her lips formed a tight line.
Her demeanor impressed him only little. He left his sitting position and came to her. Muscles tensing, Arya knew she wouldn't be able to do anything against whatever he had planned and realized that as golden as silence could be, it would only lead to her ruin in this case. Instead of attacking her though, the Shade knelt before her, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath upon her skin.
Her obvious annoyance only seemed to amuse him. He pulled back just a little and said:
"You will talk sooner or later. Defiance is something that dimishes very quickly."
He extended a hand towards her and his white, palid fingers left a cold trace upon her soft cheek, moving down her neck and going deeper still.
"My name is Durza."
His touch made her shiver inwardly.
"Remember that name. You will dread upon hearing it."
No sooner than he was finished, she suddenly felt a wave of burning energy errupting from his fingers, enclosing her whole body into a mist of blackness that was so thick she thought she would suffocate.
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