Free 3-Brisingr-3 by Unknown Page A

Saphira announced just as Eragon put his foot on a rugged step hewn out of the rock below him. He paused. She had escaped additional injury, which relieved him.
    And the Lethrblaka?
    Floating belly-up in Leona Lake. I’m afraid that some fishermen saw our battle. They were rowing toward Dras-Leona when I last saw them.
    Well, it can’t be helped. See what you can find in the tunnel the Lethrblaka came out of. And keep an eye out for the Ra’zac. They may try to slip past us and escape Helgrind through the entrance we used.
    They probably have a bolt-hole at ground level.
    Probably, but I don’t think they’ll run quite yet.
    After what seemed like an hour trapped in the darkness—though Eragon knew it could not have been more than ten or fifteen minutes—and after descending more than a hundred feet through Helgrind, Eragon stopped on a level patch of stone. Transmitting his thoughts to Roran, he said, Katrina’s cell is about fifty feet in front of us, on the right .
    We can’t risk letting her out until the Ra’zac are dead or gone.
    What if they won’t reveal themselves until we do let her out? For some reason, I can’t sense them. They could hide from me until doomsday in here. So do we wait for who knows how long, or do we free Katrina while we still have the chance? I can place some wards around her that should protect her from most attacks.
    Roran was quiet for a second. Let’s free her, then .
    They began to move forward again, feeling their way along the squat corridor with its rough, unfinished floor. Eragon had to devote most of his attention to his footing in order to maintain his balance.
    As a result, he almost missed the swish of cloth sliding over cloth and then the faint twang that emanated from off to his right.
    He recoiled against the wall, shoving Roran back. At the same time, something augered past his face, carving a groove of flesh from his right cheek. The thin trench burned as if cauterized.
    “Kveykva!” shouted Eragon.
    Red light, bright as the midday sun, flared into existence. It had no source, and thus it illuminated every surface evenly and without shadows, giving things a curious flat appearance. The sudden blaze dazzled Eragon, but it did more than that to the lone Ra’zac in front of him; the creature dropped its bow, covered its hooded face, and screamed high and shrill. A similar screech told Eragon that the second Ra’zac was behind them.
    Roran!
    Eragon pivoted just in time to see Roran charge the other Ra’zac, hammer held high. The disoriented monster stumbled backward but was too slow. The hammer fell. “For my father!” shouted Roran. He struck again. “For our home!” The Ra’zac was already dead, but Roran lifted the hammer once more.
    “For Carvahall!” His final blow shattered the Ra’zac’s carapace like the rind of a dry gourd. In the merciless ruby glare, the spreading pool of blood appeared purple.
    Spinning his staff in a circle to knock aside the arrow or sword that he was convinced was driving toward him, Eragon turned to confront the remaining Ra’zac. The tunnel before them was empty. He swore.
    Eragon strode over to the twisted figure on the floor. He swung the staff over his head and brought it down across the chest of the dead Ra’zac with a resounding thud.
    “I’ve waited a long time to do that,” said Eragon.
    “As have I.”
    He and Roran looked at each other.
    “Ahh!” cried Eragon, and clutched his cheek as the pain intensified. “It’s bubbling!” exclaimed Roran.
    “Do something!”
    The Ra’zac must have coated the arrowhead with Seithr oil, thought Eragon. Remembering his training, he cleansed the wound and surrounding tissue with an incantation and then repaired the damage to his face. He opened and closed his mouth several times to make sure the muscles were working properly. With a grim smile, he said, “Imagine the state we’d be in without magic.”
    “Without magic, we wouldn’t have Galbatorix to worry