The previous chapters were not much of a success. So be sure to review to show your support for the story.

A/N: yes my good reviewer yes they will.

Chapter #3: Playing hide and seek with the Varden.

"Well the Varden are on the other side but they would not accept me into their ranks despite the, unique nature of my magic. And I do not know their location." He stated blandly, he nearly jumped at the chance to kill the shade. But he would not go as far as to kill his foster dad. Although he resented the time that he spent with him needlessly he could not ignore that Galbatorix was not evil, he had too much power and it was changing him, twisting him into another unrecognizable person.

But as he went off on the thought of how he came over his immense energy stores he shuttered. When another voice

"That's it," he said brightly, "We ask her, bear with me here. We know elves can use magic, right? And those capable of using magic can also communicate mentally, just as I can with Saphira." A slow grin spread across his face. "Why can't we try with her?"

Shaking himself from his seclusion in the sanctuary of his own mind. He gave a half-hearted 'what'.

That may not be so wise, she may see it as intrusion and a hostile act

I think you should be the one to initiate contact,Anton told him.

Why me?

This was your idea.

A mental scoff echoed in Eragon's head.

Oh, please. You dreamed about her. You already share a connection.Eragon's first reaction was shock and then admitted his point after remembering how he had been mumbling to Snowfire about it, and he extended a tendril of thought towards her mind. He found it without difficulty. It was not fuzzy and filled with pain like he expected, but lucid and clear, like a note from a crystal bell.

Suddenly and icy dagger drove into his mind. The force of the attack knocked Eragon to the equivalent of a face plant. So Anton whipped out in front of him and the dagger shattered. A sudden remembrance of the minds music rendered his barriers week and his barriers shattered but instead of the attack hitting him it drove into Eragon's mind.

Eragon desperately tried calling out in the ancient language. Eka ai fricai un Shur'tugal!I am a Rider and friend! The deadly embrace did not loosen it's hold, but it did halt, and they could feel surprise emanate from her mind. Suspicion followed a moment later, but Eragon knew she would believe him; he could not have lied on the ancient language. He had said he was a friend, but she did not know if the two minds invading hers meant no harm. Accepting Eragon's words as true, she poked an iron-hard thought at Anton's mind, demanding his identity.

While the threat was projected he whispered in wonder at the similarity to the mind of Syla, his servant at the Castile, Alkinufa-Huatan. He whispered to her, and this time the surprise was more pronounced. They hoped she could now be curious enough to risk lowering her mental barriers and talking.

She was. The pressure lifted, and the barriers guarding her mind fell away. The elf warily let her thoughts though theirs, like wild animals meeting for the first time. A cold shiver ran down Eragon's spine; her mind was alien, vast and powerful, and contained the memories and experiences of an entire lifetime. Yet through all the sensations shimmered a wild, haunting melody that was her identity.

What are your names? She asked, speaking in the ancient language. Her voice was weary and filled with despair.

I am Eragon, the young Rider began. And this is the son of the king, Anton.

Mental daggers stabbed at Antons mind, while they were easily deflected they did not help the waning patience of Anton. It is not true, and I hold no oaths to him and he is no longer my father. He stated coolly.

I see. . . my name is Arya, why have you contacted me in this manner, am I still held prisoner?

No you are free! Eragon exclaimed joyously. In rushed text he was able to convey what had happened after they had found her.

Ah...so it was Gil'ead. She paused, her concentration wavering. I know that my wounds were healed, I did not understand why – perhaps in preparation for some new torture. But now I realize it was you. Softly, she continued, Even so, I have not awoken and you are puzzled.

Aye.

During my captivity, a rare poison, the Skilna Bragh, was given to me, along with a drug to suppress my powers. Each morning the antidote for the previous day's poison was administered to me...by force if I refused. Without it, I will die in a few hours. That is why I lie in this trance; it slows the Skilna Bragh's progress, though it does not stop it completely.

How long can you remain like this? asked Eragon.

Normally, weeks. However, I do not have that much time. I feel the poison in my veins. If I do not receive the antidote within three days – four at the most – I will die.

Where can we get you the antidote? the strain in Antons's voice was undeniable.

It exists only two places outside the Empire; with my own people and with the Varden. But my home is far beyond the reach of dragonback.

Then we will take you to the Varden. We have contemplated going to them already, but are unsure how to find them, Eragon told her.

She paused, and they could sense her thinking it over. I will tell you – but only if you give me your word you will never reveal their location to Galbatorix or anyone who serves him. In addition, you must swear you have not deceived me in some manner, and that you intend no harm to the elves, dwarves, Varden or the race of dragons.

What Arya asked would have been simple enough – had they not been speaking in the ancient language. An oath sworn while speaking it was a pact more binding than life itself. Once made, a promise like this could never be broken. This was foremost in the two boy's minds as they pledged their word in agreement. It is understood...Eragon spoke slowly.

Aye, Anton promised. After all, I am half-dragon, he added lightly.

Very well... A series of vertigo-inducing images flashed through their minds. They were riding along the massive Beor Mountains, traveling eastward many leagues. Anton and Eragon tried their best to remember the route as craggy mountains and hills flew past. They headed south now, still following the mountains, when suddenly they wheeled into a narrow valley. It snaked through the peaks, ending at the base of a frothy waterfall the thundered into a deep lake. Then, as quickly as it began, the tirade of images stopped.

It is far, said Arya. And it will be difficult to reach such a distance in my short time, but I faithfully place my life in your hands, Rider and Alkinufa-Huatan. She imparted a phrase to shout when they approached the cliff next to the waterfall, and warned them that, although they would be tested, they should not falter. After telling them the name of the antidote, Tunivor's Nectar, she bid them farewell. As a last request, she asked them not to contact her again in this manner unless absolutely necessary; her strength was already at its limit.

Murtagh asked, "So how far away are the Varden?"

"Far," admitted Eragon. "Across the Hadarac Desert and deep into the Beors."

"And you expect us to cover this distance in less than four days?" the response from Murtagh was understandably harsh.

"If we do nothing she dies,"

"I understand that," the dark haired young man massaged the bridge of his nose. "Now please understand me; there is no way we could cover that kind of distance in such a short time, even if we drove the horses to death. Not to mention the issue of food and water to last us half that long." They hated to admit it, but Murtagh was right. It seemed bleak, but then Anton slowly sat a little straighter, a cold pit forming in his stomach.

"Actually," he began. "There may be a way..." The other three looked at him, puzzled.

"I am, technically a dragon, I hatched, I was not born, even so Galbatorix thought that the fact I was human could make me his child. Last night a mental presence gave me the words so I can transform into either form at will." He continued slowly, not expecting them to believe him.

"How can you not die?! The energy that is required for someone to change something of their appearance makes them week and unable to use magic the rest of the day, let alone become something else." Said Eragon evenly.

"Correct, but my father doesn't have as many things that give him his power as he brags, I am his source of most the energy that he now has stored in his vault."

"Can you make it to the Varden?" asked Murtagh.

"Yes, but the elf will be torn to shreds unless we can find a saddle for her to use when she rides atop me."

Give him my smaller saddle please Eragon, we don't need both of them. Said Saphira in Eragon's mind privately.

"We will fit you with a saddle, once you are in your real form." Eragon assured him.

Good. "Alkinufa!" Anton yelled into the crisp noon air.

The change made it feel like he was a pile of clay, slowly his body grew liquid he opened his eyes and watched as fingers and toes grew wicked claws and thickened into the talons of a dragon. Two lumps appeared on his back and he felt the skin stretch as his bones changed into the shoulder and wing bones. He thought they would break through the skin, but then realized he had started growing. His chest inflated and his torso lengthened out, along with his neck. His spine stretched down and his tail began to grow out of his backside. Spikes erupted down his backbone and around his face, as horns grew out above his rapidly shrinking ears. He fell onto all fours as his wings emerged fully from his back, and he felt his face begin to push outwards. His muzzle grew out and an itching sensation in his mouth alerted him to his teeth getting longer and sharper, and multiplying into his deadly fangs. Thankfully his cloths had changed so that they were actually his scales where the skin was covered by them in human form.

The group stared at him, his color was the color of a frozen lake in the middle of winter. He was slightly smaller than Saphira, but as his father mentioned males grew slightly quicker than a female. So he was unworried about the size difference until Saphira said, Looks like I've got two little ones. Her fangs slightly reviled indicated her immense amusement.