"What exactly are we doing?" Eragon muttered into the darkness.

There was no answer. "Who are you, and what are we doing?" Eragon repeated, this time loudly and in an irritated tone.

"Well, there's gratitude for you." a voice muttered in an equally irritated tone. "I drag you from the dungeons, saving your life at the risk of my own, and that's all the thanks I get?"

Silence again. Eragon shifted uncomfortably, wishing he knew what exactly he was sitting on. "Thank you." He said finally, grudgingly. "For rescuing me. And for bringing me the food. And for visiting me."

The Voice sounded confused. "I didn't bring you any food, did I?"

Eragon had only a handful of blurred memories from the previous day, but he was sure that one of them included him being brought food. Without the food, there was no way he would have had enough strength to run. The food had saved him.

What else did he remember? Eragon thought hard. He'd been brought, limbs tied, to a dark hallway somewhere higher in the castle. Through the wall, he remembered hearing sounds of feasting, chatter, and instruments. And then? He didn't quite remember. Somebody had come, untied him, and then they ran through the darkness. They might have crossed a few hallways that were lit. Running had exhausted him so much that he passed out. Then he'd woken up here, in the darkness.

"Why are we here?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry." The Voice replied sarcastically. "Perhaps you'd rather me return you to the king?"

"No. Sorry. This is good."

There was another, short, pause before he thought of another question. "What time of day is it?"

"Does it really matter?" the Voice said. "If you must know, it's nearly dawn."

Eragon gave up the questioning and decided to focus on analyzing the voice. Female, definitely. Irritated, definitely. Not very high, but not low either. If it weren't so annoyed, it might even be considered sweet. Fairly young, as well. Hmm.

"We can go." The Voice interrupted his musings about the Voice. "Carefully now. We don't want anybody to see. I'll go first."

The door opened a sliver, and Eragon winced at the bright light pouring in. He squinted to see what the Voice looked like, but his eyes were tearing too badly.

"Come with me." A soft hand grasped his, and he was led outside. The door slammed behind him. "Shh! Not a sound. Come on."

Eragon forced his eyes a bit wider. They were in a dark, stony hallway of the castle that definitely wasn't a housing section. Through tiny windows in the walls, sunlight trickled in. Dawn was breaking.

"Wait here." The Voice said. Eragon strained his eyes, but could only distinguish that it was a petite girl, with a gauzy veil over her head. When she turned suddenly and disappeared through another door, the fabric of her robe brushed against his arm, and he could tell that the material was fine and expensive. When she had gone, he slumped against the wall, too exhausted to think. His stomach had begun to growl again. Eragon placed his head in his hands and drifted into a half-sleep, and the words that drifted from inside the door didn't quite register in his brain.

"Will you be all right?" one voice whispered to another.

"Yes, I will. Go quickly, there isn't much time."

"But what do I do?!"

"Use this sack...good, just like that. Will you be all right?"

"I hope so. What's he like?"

"Too inquisitive. He never shuts up! And he's a bit unsteady from lack of food. I packed some here."

There was a pause. "Thank you. You don't know how much this means."

"I think I do. Don't worry. I'll take care of everything. You'll see."

"So you'll be all right while I'm gone?"

"Yes, I'll be perfect. Now hurry!"

The girl was back, standing above Eragon. "Wake up!"

"Euhh…" Eragon mumbled.

"Please, get up, before anyone sees!" Eragon blinked his eyes open, and now he could see the face under the veil. Peaked and pale, with eyes as blue as robin's eggs and wisps of golden curls that framed the angelic face.

"I'm up…" Eragon muttered, struggling to his feet.

"Eat this. Carry this. Follow me."

A slice of cheese was forced into his mouth and a sack was dropped at his feet. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Eragon swallowed the cheese, heaved the burlap bag over his shoulder, and trudged down the hallway after the Voice.

---

Cadi was a sorry sight. Tear-stained cheeks, bedraggled hair, trembling limbs, and a pitiful expression that no amount of makeup could hide. She was in no condition to work, and yet there she was, sitting at the king's right hand at the long table in the room that had previously been the Egg Chamber. The rest of the table was filled with the most trusted generals of the army, the most skilled magicians, the shrewdest politicians.

"…actions should be firm and violent." One general was saying from somewhere down the table. "No mercy should be…"

Gray fog obscured her thoughts and vision and her ears didn't seem to function. Cadi sat, dazed, unaware of her surroundings, with only one thought pounding in her mind. Murtagh. Murtagh is dead. Galbatorix hung Murtagh. Murtagh is dead. My Murtagh's dead.

Torren was speaking, but Cadi's mind was elsewhere.

Galbatorix was speaking.

Some general was speaking. The thought that his mustache resembled a caterpillar drifted across Cadi's consciousness.

Another general was speaking.

A magician was speaking.

Winston was speaking. She shut out his booming voice, the one she usually listened to so intently. How could he speak? How could he function? How could life in Uru'baen continue? Murtagh was gone.

Galbatorix was speaking again.

Galbatorix was still speaking.

Why wouldn't Galbatorix's voice just go away?

And he was still talking.

"CADI!!"

Cadi jerked in her chair, stunned by his sudden roar. She looked around, the room was empty. "I've been calling you for the past five minutes!" Galbatorix exclaimed.

"Sorry, your majesty." Cadi muttered, starting to get up to go.

"Hold on for a minute." Galbatorix said. "I'd like to speak to you."

"Can't it wait?" Cadi replied, walking towards the door.

"No!"

Cadi stopped. The king is an important person, right? She thought. Important people should be listened to. And he's talking to me. So…I should listen to him. But Murtagh's dead…

"I just want to offer my sincerest apologies." The king said compassionately. "I understand your terrible grief. Murtagh was my dearest friend and comrade, and I have not only lost him, but also my beloved daughter."

The words only half-registered in Cadi's mind. "Gabriell was a spoiled brat" she said, without even realizing it.

To her surprise, the king only laughed. "I suppose so." He said. "However, I feel terrible, terrible loss. I understand, Cadi. I do hope you understand what caused this."

"Well, you killed him."

"Why yes, but you do understand the circumstances? He assisted the escape of Eragon and the capture of the princess of the Empire. With the information that the rebel could have provided, the terrible crimes and the evil of the Varden could have been stopped."

"What are you saying?"

"I was forced into this." The king said emphatically. "The actions of the Varden forced me to destroy my dearest friend. Do you hear me? The Varden killed Murtagh."

"The Varden…killed Murtagh?"

"Yes! You understand."

"They killed him? Eragon killed him?"

"Eragon killed him. Nasuada killed him. Orrik. Roran. Arya. I know these names are familiar to you. The leaders of the Varden, they're all evil. They hated Murtagh, they hate me, and they hate you. They want all of us dead."

"They're…horrible." Cadi said dully. The words began to register in her mind. The Varden, which hated Murtagh, killed him. The Varden was causing her this pain. And they were happy about it. Happy! Rejoicing in the death of Murtagh, perfect, kind Murtagh, her best friend, who'd never done anything to hurt them. Anger, hatred, and a thirst for vengeance started to replace the dull ache. "They killed him? They wanted to?"

"Yes, it's terrible." The king said sympathetically. "To wish such a terrible fate on our dear friend, who never did anything to hurt them. Cadi, we must take action now."

"Action? To hurt them, right?"

"Certainly. To hurt them like they have hurt you, Cadi. We'll wipe them out."

"That sounds…good."

"Very good, don't you think? Will you work harder than ever now, Cadi?"

"Work hard? Will that hurt them?"

"It most certainly will. Listen to me, Cadi. Work as hard as ever you can under Winston and Torren. I will teach you too. You'll begin flying lessons on your new dragon, Rigel. By the way, he's yours now. You'll learn battle strategies, horseback riding…everything you need know. And when we meet the Varden in battle, you'll be able to unleash all of your power and give them what they justly deserve. Does that sound good? Fair?"

"Very good." Cadi said faintly. "Very fair."

"That's good. I'm so glad that we have the same opinions, Cadi. Now, head back to your room. You're tired."

That was an understatement. Before Cadi had even taken two steps out of the room, she collapsed. Physicians carried her to her room, and the city was in a panic, as Cadi drifted in and out of consciousness, with fevers that would have killed any normal girl, seizures that took over her entire body, wild nightmares, and frantic mumblings under her breath. Nobody knew that the 'medicine' from Galbatorix was weakening her mind and her body, that the doctors that stayed in her room day and night were not really doctors, but hypnotists.

A week later, she awoke. She had no remembrance of the past week, but she was sure of one thing. The Varden was evil. Hatred of it filled her entire being. Eragon had murdered Murtagh in cold blood. And she was going to make them pay. Even if it took the rest of her life, they would pay.