Disclaimer: I own nothing


CHAPTER FOUR: COMPLICATIONS

Harry sat on the bed in the room he and Eragon shared. They had arrived in Teirm, a port city on the coast of Alagaësia, a few days ago. They day after they had left Daret, the three of them had lost the trail of the Ra'zac. Since Eragon had been in the air with Saphira, Brom and Harry backtracked until they found where they had disappeared. When Eragon discovered a flask full of a liquid called Seithr oil, the same liquid that had caused the burns on his uncle, the three of them had decided to travel to this port city in order to track the Ra'zac through the purchases of the oil since it was apparently very rare and expensive. The days after that fell into a simple routine. Eragon would fly in the morning with Saphira while Harry would remain on the ground and receive more tutelage in the ancient language and some of the finer complexities of magic. Since he didn't really need to practice any spells all Brom did was give him a much wider array of words and to get Harry into the habit of speaking it more fluently, held various conversations with him in the ancient language.

The day after they had arrived in Teirm, Brom and his friend Jeod had gone to the castle to see if they could get access to the records they needed, but were unsuccessful. The days thence were spent by Brom educating Eragon on how to read. Since it had been a very long time since Harry had had the chance to enjoy the comforts of civilized living, he had merely spent his days relaxing and recovering from months of living in dangerous environments and travelling. He had, in fact, yet to leave the house since the first day. That was actually due to a couple of different reasons, not just because he was dead tired from the travelling and the fighting to stay alive.

Are you ok little one? Scáth asked worriedly. Though they were apart and Scáth was staying outside of the city with Saphira, their connection was still open, allowing the two of them to communicate freely and to sense each other's emotions. This was how Scáth knew that Harry had not slept well over the past few nights.

I am as well as can be expected, Harry said as he got up and walked over to the washbowl on the dresser in front of a mirror. I just have not had the opportunity for my mind to wander since I arrived in Alagaësia until now.

Your past? Scáth asked gently, knowing this was a very sensitive subject for Harry.

Aye, my past, Harry responded with a heavy sigh as several images flew across his mind and, by extension, Scáth's.

You miss it don't you?

Harry splashed water on his face and dried it with a towel before answering. I miss what it was and should have been, not what I discovered it to be. Scáth recoiled slightly from Harry's mind as a deep and all encompassing well of betrayal, pain, and despair revealed itself at Harry's words. Quick as a flash though, it was gone, buried deep within Harry's mind and sealed away so Harry could still function.

Do not despair Harry, Scáth said as he enveloped Harry in a mental hug to which Harry smiled and returned the embrace. Remember you are not alone anymore and this is not some fabrication. You and I will spend eternity together, even should death take us into its everlasting embrace.

I love you my shadow, Harry responded with a happy smile.

And I love you, Scáth said before the two of them allowed their bond to settle down to a background hum that gave them both pleasure in simply knowing that it existed.

When their conversation had ended, Harry glanced at the mirror he was standing in front of and ended up doing a double take. At first he thought the mirror was distorted or something but under closer examination he saw that it and his reflection were both perfectly fine. However, his reflection had changed since the last time he had been able to look into a mirror, some four and half months ago and about two weeks before he came to this land and discovered Scáth's egg. His eyes had become slanted slightly, his eyebrows were thinner than they used to be, and his ears had tapered to small points. All together, he looked like a mix of elf and human, though with more human traits than elfin.

How did this happen? Harry wondered in shock as he traced one of the points on his ears. And why has no one mentioned this before.

The changes are not as prominent as you think, Scáth answered. It is only prominent to you because you were used to how you looked before and have not seen yourself in many months. Also, your hair hides the points of your ears when it is not tucked behind them.

How did this happen though? I have no elf in my blood.

Scáth was quiet for a few minutes, thinking. I do not know for certain but I think it is because of our bond. It is the only explanation I can think of.

Well… Harry said as he examined his appearance more thoroughly, stretching and relaxing the skin around his eyes and looking for other changes. I'm not really complaining. It's just weird.

Scáth merely rumbled in amusement and fell silent. Harry rearranged his messy hair, as much as he could, to cover his now slightly pointed ears, strapped on Bhuailteoir and left the room. Eragon was already with Brom undergoing his lessons and Jeod was off doing something or another. Since he had no desire to remain indoors, as he had done the past three days, Harry made his way out of the house in the thoughts of exploring Teirm as Eragon had done the day after they got there. Idly he meandered through the streets, occasionally peaking into a store. He quickly got bored though. Compared to the sheer vastness of the cities he had left behind, Teirm was small and offered little in the way of entertainment. As it was, Harry was making his way back towards Jeod's house around noon, intent on getting food and drink and then possibly indulging himself in one of Jeod's many books.

He paused though, when he came to the street with Jeod's house. The herbalist's house that Harry had paid little attention to when they arrived now caught his eye. The woman, Angela he recalled, was very strange and had an even stranger pet. When Harry had first come into contact with the woman he thought nothing of her but when his mental eye noticed that she had an impenetrably shielded mind, he took a bigger interest. Very few human's minds were capable of concealing themselves and even fewer were capable of doing it so completely. Truly, Brom and Eragon were the only one's whom Harry had encountered that shielded their minds, not counting the Urgals from Yazuac. What struck him as even more odd, was the woman's pet, if was even a pet. Harry had encountered another presence from within Angela's shop. It was sharp and cunning and while it took note of his presence, classified him as irrelevant and flicked Harry's consciousness away with barely a flicker of thought. Before he had been cast aside though, Harry had gleaned only the fact that the creature was some type of feline.

Curious, Harry entered the overgrown herb shop. If he was lucky, he might be able to whittle out some answers from the strange and eccentric woman, if only for the questions he held about plants. Brom's lessons hadn't delved too much into plants and their attributes but rather focused simply on naming things and learning about history and the ancient language. As it was, Harry knew little about the plants themselves and he was curious since he had always enjoyed gardening and other such things. Harry paused briefly once inside to allow his eyes to adjust and then turned his gaze to the shops interior. To his surprise, the store was filled with boxes. Cupboard doors that once held a variety of things were now left open and empty. Pots that hung from the ceiling and contained vine like plants and pots that contained various flowers of different colors were now stuffed hastily into boxes that were left open. The counters were bare, save for boxes, and the windows were striped of curtains.

"I'm sorry," the curly brown haired herbalist said as she burst out from the back room. "But my shop is closed and as you can see will not be opening up again."

"My apologies," Harry said with a hint of disappointment in his voice. "I did not know." He turned to leave but froze when a large black cat with a shaggy black mane, two white fangs protruding over its jaw and red glowing eyes jumped onto a closed box next to him and the door.

You were not meant to be here, a voice suddenly spoke within Harry's mind to his surprise. Harry stared dumbfounded at the cat and at a loss for words. Despite what logic told him, he knew that the voice came from the cat. And I do not mean in this shop.

"I… How?" Harry stuttered in amazement, knowing that this strange cat knew that he did not hail from this land.

Silence and listen closely land walker, the cat said with a tone of urgency in his voice. My name is Solembum and I am a werecat. You will not know of me and my kind but at the moment that is irrelevant. The cat flicked its tale in seeming agitation. Your presence here has changed more than you know or realize. Even more than the white bearded one that sired the other Rider realizes. Your very presence has caused change to run through the land like ripples in the water.

"What–" Harry started but was cut off.

Silence! Solembum hissed warningly. I'll not repeat myself. You must travel east to the city of Gil'ead and you must do so with great haste. Within the prison there, you will find an elf maiden. You MUST rescue her for she is in great danger of being broken, ravaged, and killed. If she falls, so too will all of Alagaësia. The other Rider was meant to rescue her but your presence has caused events to move at a swifter pace. If you do not save her soon these entire lands will fall to ruin. The cat paused and dug its claws into the crate it was standing on. Consult with the bearded one; inform him of what I have told you and of what I am. He will be reluctant but will allow you to go. When you arrive in Gil'ead, beware of the Shade with the blood red hair and maroon eyes. Your power is great Changer but it is not your destiny to defeat him and if you challenge him openly and attempt to cut out his heart, you will fail. Go now. GO! Solembum punctuated his last word with an angry half meow half roar. Harry started and bolted from the shop and quickly entered Jeod's house. When asked, the butler directed Harry to the study where Brom and Eragon were.

"Excuse the interruption," Harry said, urgency pounding through his voice. "But I need a word with you Brom. In private," he added with Brom hesitated briefly.

"Alright," Brom conceded after a moment's thought. "We were about to break for lunch anyways. Go on Eragon, I'll be along shortly." Eragon looked irritatingly between Harry and Brom before reluctantly getting up and leaving. He obviously did not like being excluded from things. When he shut the door, Harry whispered a line in the ancient language to ensure they would not be listened in on. "What seems to be the problem Harry?"

"What do you know of werecats?" Harry asked causing the man to gape at him in astonishment.

"Very little actually," Brom said after a few moments. "Like the elves and the dwarves they tend to guard their secrets very closely. They once openly walked the land though, during the height of the Riders' power. A few of them chose become companions of sorts to a rare few. They flitted among the fringes of stories and society, rarely giving advice. When they do though, it should not be ignored."

"Then I need to go a city called Gil'ead," Harry declared when Brom finished. When Brom questioned him, Harry explained his encounter with the werecat next door.

"This is… disturbing." Brom said with a dark frown on his face.

"Do you know of this elf Solembum spoke of?" Harry asked getting antsy and wanting to be off but needing answers before he left.

"I have my suspicions but due to oaths I swore long ago I cannot say much else," Brom answered as he shifted to stand behind Jeod's desk and started rifling through the drawers. "I am hesitant to let you go but if what this Solembum said is true then I have no choice. Your training is much farther along than Eragon's and you are far less stubborn and thick headed than he is and will approach the situation with more caution than he." Brom exclaimed triumphantly and pulled out a scroll and unfurled it over the desk, revealing it to be a map. "Gil'ead is here," he planted a gnarled finger on the map. Harry leaned over and examined where he was pointing. "It is on the southern edge of Lake Isenstar. It is a large city and I suggest you and Scáth approach at night when you are less likely to be seen. My biggest concern though, is this Shade the werecat spoke of."

"What of it?" Harry asked in confusion. Neither Brom nor the werecat had explained what a Shade was.

"Shade's are abominations of magic and sorcery," Brom said with a scowl. "They are formed when a sorcerer becomes overwhelmed by spirits they summon. A Shade is a vile creature that seeks only to sate its bloodlust with the slaughter of anything in their path and their strength, both physical and magical, often surpasses that of the elves. What this Solembum suggests is that a Shade is working for the empire and that is great cause for worry and that the elf is in the hands of both the Shade and the empire is cause for even greater concern." Brom paused to collect his thoughts while Harry and, through him, Scáth examined the map to get a good lay of the land. "If indeed you come across a Shade like the werecat said then you would do well to flee for your life."

What do you think about all this Scáth? Harry asked as he continued to examine the map.

I think we should listen to this werecat, Scáth answered after a few moments. We cannot allow that black minded and twisted oath-breaker to gain complete dominance over the lands. It will wrought only destruction and pain for many people.

"Harry," Brom said somberly before Harry could reply to Scáth. "I let you do this knowing that you have a good chance of success but there are other things you must know."

"Like what?" Harry asked curiously, concerned about the display of weariness in the normally strong man.

"I can feel my time in this life slipping away like water through a net," Brom said as he sat heavily into a chair. "I do not have much longer and I am doing everything I can to teach Eragon as much as I can without pushing him too far and killing him. This includes keeping him from the Varden, who are allies to the elves and the Riders and oppose Galbatorix." Brom ran a hand over his face and Harry noted the absence of his sapphire ring with the strange symbol on it. "I fear though that when I pass, Eragon will have no choice but to go there and that concerns me greatly."

"Why?" Harry asked as he pulled up a chair of his own.

"Because I have had several conversations with Jeod and they have led me to only one conclusion, especially when I took into account the circumstances of how Eragon came across Saphira's egg," Brom answered grimly. "The Varden has a traitor or traitors in their midst. If this is the case, and Eragon and you are forced to go to the Varden because I am dead, then promise me something, Harry. Both you and Scáth, please promise me something."

"If it is within our power to grant," Harry replied after a quick consult with Scáth.

"Promise me that you will protect Eragon," Brom said in an almost desperate voice. "Promise me that you will protect my son."

Harry was taken aback briefly by the declaration, though truly he wasn't all that startled by it. He may not have paid much attention to it but Solembum had all but said Brom was Eragon's father when he spoke to Harry. With a somber and grim smile and in the ancient language Harry vowed, "Should you die, Scáth and I will, to the best of our ability, protect your son, Eragon, should he need it, whenever and wherever we can."

"Thank you Harry," Brom whispered, almost inaudibly before he suddenly became himself again and all traces of tender emotions gone. "Now be gone with you. Time is of the essence. But Harry," he added just as Harry laid his hand on the doorknob. "Should the four of you be forced to go to the Varden, be sure to guard your mind; secrets of the Rider belong to the Riders and no others. If there is a spy among the Varden as I suspect then we cannot allow anything that you or Eragon know to fall into the wrong hands."

"I assure you they won't get anything from me," Harry said grimly and then left the room and house all together, pausing only briefly to gather his possessions and food rations.

Once he had everything he needed, Harry quickly left Teirm through the gate he had entered less than five days ago. He didn't take his horse for he would have no need. Harry walked at a swift pace until he was well beyond Teirm's borders and hidden by the expanse of trees that covered the area around the port city. Following the pull of his bond with Scáth, Harry wove through the trees until he came to a small clearing that was a good distance from Teirm with the black dragon waiting in the clearing. He set his things down and pulled out his rolled up skin blanket from the pack Brom had given him just before he left Jeod's house. Given that he had continuously added to it over the months he and Scáth spent on Vroengard, the blanket was roughly the size of a large comforter, what would be considered a king size blanket in his world. Scáth, knowing what he was about to do, crouched down low enough to allow Harry to toss the blanket over his shoulders where Harry would normally sit. After that, Harry spent the remainder of the day light hours mimicking Brom's process of crafting a light saddle out of his blanket, modifying and speeding up the process slightly with the use of magic. It wasn't that big of sacrifice for him since he always slept against the warm and scaly side of his dragon.

Are you ready? Scáth asked as Harry settled into the new and furry saddle.

Are you? I do not want you falling out of the sky because you are tired. Harry countered with concern. The sun was already below the horizon and it was quickly getting too dark to see properly.

Fear not, Scáth said as he rose to his full height and stretched his wings. The last few days of rest have left me with plenty of energy. Without waiting for a response, Scáth leapt into the air and gave several powerful beats of his wings and took off into the night. He rose steadily for a few minutes before angling his flight east towards The Spine, continuing to rise as he sped across the lands. Harry was silent for several minutes, simply enjoying being in the air with his partner of mind, heart, and soul. Scáth too simply enjoyed being with Harry, despite that they were both flying towards danger.

Did you tell Saphira where we are headed? Harry questioned an hour or so into the flight when Scáth started gliding through the peaks of the mountains.

No, Scáth answered simply. I did not think it wise to do so. She would've told Eragon and Eragon would begin to ask questions and it would've sown doubt and distrust. Besides, Brom will likely tell one or both and he will be better equipped to prevent them from growing distrustful of us.

Hmmm, yes you are probably right. Harry said after a few moments thought. Still, it is sad that distrust is so common.

But understandable given that war ravages the land, Scáth responded wisely.

Understandable indeed, Harry agreed and they fell silent again for some time before speaking up again. I do not like the path I see before us my shadow. It is reminiscent of the world I left behind and that was a world fraught with fear, pain, destruction, and death and not all of it was my own. Hundreds if not thousands of people, magical or not, suffered under the hands of a maniac and likely still do… and it is because of me their suffering endures.

Scáth remained silent for several long minutes. So long in fact, that Harry began to suspect that his winged companion might not speak up again. His suspicions proved groundless however when Scáth asked, what is it that makes you think their continued suffering is your fault, Harry?

Harry hesitated, pondering the wisdom of divulging more of his past. Scáth's voice was gentle though and held no scorn or derision Harry would have expected after a statement such as the one he made. So, Harry divulged more of his past. Before I was born, a prophecy was made of a child with the power to vanquish a very powerful and very malicious Dark wizard. He was the darkest wizard ever to walk in my world. At the time it was unclear as to whom the prophecy spoke as it could've easily referred to two children that were born at the end of the seventh month; me and one other. Harry paused briefly as he shifted in his saddle and gazed at the stars. Due to certain lines in the prophecy and the happenings that transpired a year and a few months after my birthday, it became clear that I was the child of the prophecy.

Do you know the full extent of this prophecy? Scáth asked as he caught the currents of a thermal and was pushed closer to the eastern edges of The Spine.

I was unaware that the prophecy even existed until two weeks before I ran from my world and ended up here, Harry said as he struggled not to think overly much of what had happened that fateful night at the Ministry of Magic. But yes I do know the full extent of the prophecy. At least, he added with some scorn and aggravation. I believe I do.

May I hear what you know? Scáth asked gently and Harry showed him a memory of him sitting in Dumbledore's office, listening to the old man as he explained about the prophecy and its contents. He did his best to temper the feelings of rage, hatred, fury, pain and anguish he had been feeling at the time but he still felt Scáth flinch slightly at the intensity of the feelings. When the memory finished, Scáth wriggled beneath Harry like a giant sea serpent of the sky but his flight path didn't diminish in the slightest. The more I learn of that man the more I do not like him and the more I desire to rake my claws over his flesh.

Now there's a sight I'd like to see, Harry said chuckling in amusement.

Before I give my thoughts on this prophecy, Scáth inquired in a soft and questioning voice. May I hear of what transpired to make it clear you were the child of the prophecy?

Harry sighed heavily and ran a hand through his already windblown hair. I do not know the full extent of that night's happenings as no one has taken the time to fully explain things to me. However, he paused as a gust of wind buffeted Scáth's leathery membranes, causing him to stumble in his flight and scramble slightly to correct the disturbance. I have inferred much of what happened from things that were said and things I discovered on my own. On that night, the Dark Lord, as he declared himself, personally came to the house where my parents had lived and hidden themselves through difficult but powerful magics. The magics they used would conceal themselves completely from anyone but those they chose. Unfortunately, they placed their trust within the wrong people and they were betrayed. That night, my mother cast herself between Voldemort, the Dark Lord, and myself. Such a willing and loving sacrifice tapped into an ancient and powerful type of magic, which created an insurmountable shield that reflected a death spell Voldemort cast on me back on himself. It destroyed his body and he spent the next thirteen years as nothing more than a wraith.

Scáth wriggled once again, this time there was a distinct edge of anger and agitation to it. I say again the more I learn about this bearded fool, the more I wish to tear into his hide. By my conclusions that prophecy has been completed and fulfilled and any further involvement or lack thereof on your part is purely arbitrary.

How so? Harry asked in confusion.

You say that this Dark Lord, this Voldemort, spent thirteen years as a spirit wraith after he encountered you, yes? Scáth questioned firmly but not unkindly. At Harry's nod he continued. Then by rights, you fulfilled your role in the prophecy. You stopped him and for thirteen years, the world endured a time of peace. That he came back is no fault of your own and if any ever believed or suspected that he would return and did nothing to prepare for it then it is their fault that they now suffer, not yours. Do not despair the circumstances and troubles of the world you left behind for it is their problems and not yours. Even this world's troubles are not yours to bear for if you wish we could simply fly away and never return. Scáth paused to avoid a down draft of cold air that would've caused them to drop several hundred feet. Furthermore, should you take up the problems of this world, as you and I have already begun to do, then we would not bear their burden alone. From what Brom has said, there are hundreds of inhabitants of Alagaësia attempting to fight this war and so win their freedom.

Harry was stunned against Scáth's impenetrable logic and the affable yet unyielding tone in which he delivered it. There were undercurrents of anger in his voice but Harry knew it was not directed at him but rather at the happenings of Harry's life before he came to Alagaësia. I never thought of it that way before. He admitted after several minutes of stunned silence

You were too close to the situation, Scáth explained as if it were obvious. Do you feel better?

It's still a bit of a shock, Harry admitted as he laid down on Scáth's neck and hugged him. But yes, I do.

Good, Scáth said with a happy hum.

The two of them continued to fly into the night in companionable silence. When they finally passed the edge of The Spine, Harry finally spoke up again. We should find a safe place to rest.

That isn't necessary. I'm not that tired yet and the skies are clear and easy going for some miles yet.

I know that you silly dragon, Harry chuckled. But from that map it didn't look like it was that far to Gil'ead. On foot it would no doubt take several days to get to Gil'ead but that time would likely be cut down to only a few days at most. Given that the weather is calm and we have no head wind and are already on the other side of The Spine, it would not surprise me if we arrived at Gil'ead some time tomorrow. I don't know about you, Harry reached out a finger and scratched underneath one of Scáth's midnight scales, but I, for one, would rather approach the city at night when no one can see us.

Scáth emitted a coughing growl and a plume of black smoke came out of his mouth and blew back at Harry. Stop that, he said trying to shake Harry's fingers away. It tickles.

Oh we're ticklish are we? Harry asked in a teasing voice.

I most certainly am not! Scáth denied resolutely but he continually tried to avoid Harry's fingers. And I see your point but if you don't stop trying to tickle me I will dip you in a frozen lake.

Harry burst out laughing even as Scáth angled his wings to descend towards a small thicket of trees that was nestled around a small pond. It was situated a few miles east of the last mountain of The Spine. When they landed, Harry slid down Scáth's front left leg. With a few sentences in the ancient language, he erected several wards some yards away from where they would camp so as to divert any trespassers, prevent people from looking in their direction, and to alert Harry and Scáth should anyone attempt to breach the wards. After a quick serving of his rations, Harry settled down to rest. The sun was coming up and he had been up for just under twenty-four hours now and was very tired. The two of them ended up sleeping through most of the next day and it wasn't until the sun was half way towards the western horizon that they finally woke.

Do you need to hunt? Harry asked as he stretched lazily when he came out from under Scáth's warm wing.

Not for at least another day, Scáth said as he did a pretty good impression of a cat that just woke up. Come; let us be off.

Without further ado, Harry climbed up Scáth's scaly leg and settled into the saddle. True to Harry's prediction, five hours into their flight and about an hour past midnight, Gil'ead came into view. It was still several hours away and the only reason they could see it was because they were very high up, the entire land below them was flat, and the city was dotted with several lights. When the sun began to peak over the horizon, Scáth angled northward and landed near the shore of Isenstar lake some distance west from the actual town. Harry would have to approach on foot so as to avoid any undue attention. Scáth would fly closer to town before finding a secluded spot nearby to hide in case he was needed.

You should hunt while I'm in the town, Harry advised as he walked down the road leading to Gil'ead. I do not know how long I will be and you need to keep your strength up.

I'll not leave you without back up with a Shade lurking about. Scáth declared firmly and with a hint of a growl in his voice.

Surely there's some deer or some such animal nearby that you could eat without going too far, Harry argued stubbornly. Maybe some fish from the lake.

Where I would be exposed for all and a sundry to see? Scáth asked incredulously. I think not. Do not worry about me for the time being. Just keep your eyes peeled for that Shade so he does not sneak up on you.

Very well, Harry said with a sigh as he pulled his black hooded cloak tighter around himself, glad that he had long ago fixed his eyes so he didn't need glasses.

For most of the day, Harry travelled along the road. The closer he got to the city the more populated the road became. He passed several farms before the walls of the city sprung up in the distance. Not wanting to seem too out of place, Harry pushed back his hood slightly to reveal his face but for the most part still kept the hood up, the better to hide his slightly tapered ears. As he passed unhindered through the city gates around noon, he kept a keen watch over the minds swirling about him. It was a bit disconcerting to have so many minds clamoring around him, screaming at him for attention. Almost none of the minds took notice of the fact that he was watching, not even the soldiers, but there was one heavily shielded mind. It knew he was there. It knew he was watching and it was watching him in turn from behind its thick walls. Harry sensed enormous power coming from the mind and he instantly retreated to a safe distance, mentally anyways. He didn't withdraw completely into himself and shielding his own mind, that would've been stupid, but rather backed off to the point where his mind and the shielded mind were no longer rubbing against each other. In his mind, it looked as if there was a black whole among a sea of stars. The darkness weaved and bobbed through the pinpricks of light as the being, what Harry assumed to be the Shade, moved about the city.

A sudden spear of light shot from the void and made straight for his mind. Using what little mental acuity he had learned from his horrid Occlumency lessons with Snape, Harry mentally leapt aside even as he continued on his way towards a nearby tavern. It wasn't easy to battle mentally while still moving physically but thankfully some of the creatures on Vroengard had attempted to grapple mentally with him so he had managed to perfect the method. The presence of the Shade froze in shock at having missed its target. Harry couldn't blame it. From his lessons with Brom, he knew that such a thing as mentally leaping out of the way wasn't even considered possible. Magicians and the like in this world tended to grapple head on in a scenario that left one victor and one loser.

Here, came Scáth's voice while the Shade was still preoccupied with his astonishment. A strange tingling sensation fell over Harry's mind as he paid the barman with a few of the coins Brom had given him and took his drink over to an isolated corner and sat down. The lights of the minds around him vanished completely and his mind was left in the darkness. It would have been unnerving if his bond with Scáth hadn't remained active.

What did you do? Harry questioned curiously, as he took a small swallow of his pint of mead. He wasn't about to get drunk but it would seem strange if he just sat there with a full mug for possible hours on end.

I've hidden your mind from anyone aware of the mental realm. Scáth answered as Harry covertly watched a line of soldiers enter the tavern. They appeared to be off duty but Harry didn't allow that to lull him into a false sense of security. The tavern he had chosen was the only one near the prison. Harry had chosen the tavern specifically so he could run reconnaissance. His plan had been to simply sit in the corner and survey the nearby minds of the prisoners but he doubted that was a possibility now. Similar to how I hid my mind from Saphira and Brom in Carvahall so they would not notice me.

Tricky tricks from a tricky dragon, Harry said with a small chuckle. Will I still be able to survey other people's minds?

If you were the one with this ability then yes. Unfortunately, since I am the one who is concealing your mind and its very presence, you will not be able to watch people's minds without revealing your own. Given that the Shade is now aware of you or at least of your presence, then that would not be wise.

Well, Harry paused as he listened intently to some of the soldiers about a prisoner. Apparently, this prisoner had incapacitated several of their colleagues in more ways than one; one of which was sexually. Evidently, some of the soldiers that guarded the prison could no longer get it up no matter how hard they tried and the healers couldn't fix them either. Then this endeavor is likely going to take longer than I originally planned.

Unfortunately, Scáth agreed, having been privy to Harry's plan because of their constantly open bond. However, with the Shade lurking about and aware of your presence it is a sacrifice that needs to be made. The longer the denizens of Alagaësia are ignorant of our presence the longer we have an advantage. Do not take too long though. We do not know how much longer the elf can last.

I agree, though from what I hear she is putting up one hell of a fight. Harry said with a smirk as he listened to another recounting of how the prisoner, whom he believed was the elf, had singlehandedly left four guards drooling and catatonic. You might as well go hunt. I'm not going to do anything until night.

No need, Scáth said in a smug tone. A young buck made the mistake of trying to dash through my hiding place.

Harry's only response was to grin and take another sip of his mead. As he set down the mug, his scalp prickled with a familiar but entirely unpleasant feeling. With an annoyed scowl, Harry griped Bhuailteoir's handle under the table, hoped this would work, and rapped it sharply against his leg. The familiar sensation of a raw, cold egg spread over his body just as the door to the tavern slammed open. The whole tavern fell silent as a tall and thin man garbed maroon robes stalked slowly into the room. He had blood red hair, dead white skin, and maroon eyes. Harry shivered at those eyes. They were too similar to Voldemort's. The Shade, for it was obvious he was the Shade Solembum spoke of, walked over to the bar and spoke with the barman.

"Who just came in here?" The Shade asked in a silky smooth voice.

"Nothing but travelers," The barman stuttered, his hand shaking slightly as he wiped a glass. "M-most took to their rooms but one went over to that corner with a drink." He pointed towards Harry corner and of course, only his mug could be seen.

"Are you lying to me?" The Shade asked dangerously when he saw neither body nor mind in Harry's corner.

"N-n-no sir!" The barman stuttered as he went very pale. "I s-s-swear it. A man wearing a hood and green eyes was sitting in that corner not but two minutes ago before yourself came in."

"You!" The Shade snapped at the off duty soldiers who immediately jumped to attention. "Search the rooms! Every man with green eyes is to be brought before me now!"

Well isn't this just a big ball of fun, Harry remarked sarcastically as the soldiers scrambled to obey the Shade's orders.

This may prove to be an opportunity, Scáth reasoned while Harry kept a keen eye on the Shade's movements. You could slip into the prison and rescue the elf while the Shade is preoccupied with hunting you down.

Harry was silent as he contemplated that idea. He was forced to move quickly out of his corner when he noticed that the Shade was moving towards him. No, he finally said as he hid in a different shadowed corner. Everyone is alert and on guard. If I were to attempt to get at the elf now, then we would likely have to fight our way both in and out of the prison. It'd be better to wait until everyone calms down.

And if they don't?

Then blood will be shed and the world will know we exist. Harry said grimly as he fingered the black diamond set into Bhuailteoir's pummel.

"These two are the only ones we found with green eyes sir!" A soldier said as they came out of a hallway near the back of the room with two men in their midst. One was a weathered old man with light green eyes and tattered brown hair and the other was a young man who bore a striking resemblance to the first but had sandy blond hair. They were likely father and son given the resemblance and the same light green eyes.

"Are either one of these men the one whom you claimed bought a drink?" The Shade demanded of the bartender.

"N-no sir," The bartender said nervously. "If he isn't in the rooms, he might have slipped out the back door. It's left open at all times for the patrons who have rooms but come back after hours."

Clearly agitated, the Shade whirled around in a flurry of robes stalked towards the hall that led to the rooms and the back door. He shoved the soldiers out of his way with a snarl and continued on his way. Harry stood passively in his shadowy corner near the tavern's fireplace. He wanted to leave the tavern but deemed it inadvisable. Since they wouldn't actually be looking for him here anymore this was actually the safer place to be right now. The soldiers, after picking themselves up, followed the Shade out of the room. Harry heard terse orders to scour the city for any traveler with green eyes and then the sounds of clinking armor as the soldiers rushed to obey.

It seems as if I have agitated a beehive. Harry said in an annoyed tone as he moved back over to his previous seat. Why is it that I can go nowhere without attracting attention, even in this world?

Because fate has chosen you to be an agent of change Harry, Scáth said softly and gently, he knew how Harry felt about such things as fate and destiny.

Yeah, well if I ever meet fate then I'll ring him a new eye socket, Harry snarled though with no real heat. He hated fate and destiny and all that crap but he had long ago resigned himself to the fact that his life would always be filled with strange happenstances that he had no control over. Scáth chuckled but didn't say anything more. Honestly, he agreed with Harry's sentiment since he was privy to most of Harry's past life. There were only a few things that Harry kept from Scáth and those were usually thing that were too painful for Harry to discuss, like what had driven Harry to run away from his previous life and attack his mentor in the process.

For the remainder of the day light hours Harry sat in the tavern waiting for night while outside soldiers rushed from house to house, alley to alley, searching for any sign of a mysterious traveler with green eyes. Hardly any travelers were found fitting the description but the soldiers gathered anyone nearby with green eyes. The Shade returned only once, just before sunset, and forcibly retrieved the now terrified bartender. Harry followed them out and watched as the soldiers lined up the people with green eyes they had gathered. The Shade demanded if the barman recognized any of the people. When the bartender denied any of them being the one that had walked into his bar, the Shade grew furious and backhanded the burly bartender and sent him flying several feet away. Then he drew his sword, intending to slay everyone before him.

"Thrysta!" Harry whispered harshly, pulling violently on the flow of magic.

Before the Shade could so much as lift his blade against one of the innocent villagers, he suddenly went flying through the air and crashed through the front of a house twenty yards away. The soldiers and villagers shifted and stared in shock while simultaneously looking for who had dared to attack such a powerful being. They all turned their attention back to the wrecked house as the Shade dragged himself to his feet. His fury shone clearly from his maroon eyes and he looked ready to murder the entire town.

"Foveo," Harry whispered, keeping his left hand on Bhuailteoir.

He could've used the ancient language but the energy used to fling the Shade twenty yards away was a little more than he anticipated and he didn't want to exhaust himself. As the Shade stepped out of the ruined wall, several pieces of wood lifted in the air and, at Harry's direction, started whacking at the Shade. They didn't really have any effect on the Shade other than to piss him off even more. Harry didn't expect them to do any real damage. He was just trying to distract the man. It worked too. The pieces of wood whacked at whatever part of the Shade they could get and for a moment all the man did was stand there trying to fend them off. When one piece whacked him in his unprotected face, he snatched the piece with unnatural speed and snapped it in half. That, of course, only made another piece of wood to hit him. Furious, the Shade barked a word in the ancient language that Harry didn't catch and all the wood shattered and burned to ash.

Now what? You've only succeeded in enraging him further? Scáth asked, watching through Harry's eyes.

Come now, you know me better than that, Harry said in a slightly teasing voice as he closely watched the Shade as he moved away from the tavern. Besides, would you rather I have let him slaughter innocent villagers?

No but that doesn't mean I have to like you placing yourself in such danger. The werecat said if you challenged him then you would fail. There was deep concern lining Scáth's voice but there was trust as well and that was the only thing that was keeping Scáth from flying into Gil'ead that moment and tearing the Shade to pieces.

I'm not challenging him. I'm diverting his fury onto myself. Harry said as he dropped the disillusionment charm and let out a shrill whistle, gaining the attention of every single person in the immediate area. "Looking for me?" He taunted and made face at the shocked and outraged Shade. Furious, the Shade raised his arm and sent a cackling ball of sickly yellow energy towards Harry. Not willing to test a shield against unknown magic, Harry quickly danced out of the way. The ball crashed against the side of the house, causing the structure to buckle and grown. A dead spot of rotted wood appeared where the ball had struck.

"Such bad aim," Harry admonished with a tsk and waging a finger at the outraged Shade. "You should really work on that."

Harry let out a taunting cackle as he dashed aside another ball of magic and ducked into an alleyway, heading deeper into the city. He heard the Shade yell at the guards to catch him and he grinned. With speed and agility, which not only gained him a position as Seeker but also had saved his life numerous times, Harry wove through the houses, always keeping just out of sight of the soldiers and the Shade. When he was out of sight, Harry disillusioned himself again seconds before he jumped up onto a barrel and leaped with all his strength and managed to grasp the edges of the roof. With a heave, he managed to hoist himself completely onto the roof. Below him, the soldiers dashed past before coming to a halt at the intersection and looking around in confusion.

"Where is he?" The Shade demanded as he came from a different direction with his sword drawn. The soldiers reluctantly informed him that they had lost track of Harry. The Shade growled and directed three the soldiers back the way they came, sent half of the rest in one direction and the other half in another while, he stood there and seemed to cast spells.

I may not appreciate the circumstances but I appreciate the results. Harry thought mostly to himself as he lay onto of the roof catching his breath.

What do you mean? Scáth asked in confusion, not having been able to follow Harry's line of thought.

Vroengard, Harry said vaguely as he hoisted himself to his feet and began leaping across the roofs of the houses. Before Scáth could question him further Harry continued, I was never overly fit before I ended up here and I would never have been able to do what I just did. The constant fights, struggles, and hunting trips on Vroengard assisted in toning and strengthening my body. It was true too. He hadn't noticed much before but his muscles were much more toned and defined than before and he looked across between a runner and a weight lifter. Of course, the sparing with Brom assisted as well which is what gave him more a muscularly look but it wasn't in an overbearing way.

Harry was just leaping from one roof to the next when a flash appeared next to him. He heard a startled yelp just as he landed. He stabilized himself before turning to look behind him. He caught a glimpse of red hair and he leaned slightly over the edge of the roof and saw the Shade sprawled on the ground. Harry couldn't help but snicker and he felt Scáth do the same. Apparently, the Shade had attempted to transport himself directly to Harry's side and had completed the spell while Harry was in the air. The man had obviously not been expecting Harry to be midair when he thought to do the spell. The Shade growled in annoyance and dragged himself to his feet, swearing all the while. Grinning, Harry continued his mad dash across the various roofs.

He ran for several more minutes before he stopped next to a cold stone chimneystack. Keeping a hand on Bhuailteoir's pummel, Harry erected what few wards he knew how to cast, his kind of wards, not wards created with the ancient language. Wards were actually the one subject he hadn't done much studying in but he knew how to cast a few and he was hoping that the combination of two wands, one of which was the Elder Wand, would make them stronger. He cast one to repel any but him from the immediate area and one to shield his presence, though he was already invisible. He also mingled in a shielding charm just to be on the safe side. He was just in time too. The Shade taken to chasing Harry across the roof tops, likely following the urges of some spell, and had been gaining a good deal of ground because of his preternatural strength. As it was, just as Harry finished the wards the Shade ran head long into them. The wards flared and sent the Shade flying halfway across the city only to slam into the stone keep near the center of the city.

You certainly have a knack for sending things flying don't you? Scáth asked with an amused chuckle.

Apparently, Harry responded as he dropped the wards and left the area and the roof tops all together. He would have liked to stay in the warded area but that would've been like a mouse staying in an open cage with a cat. As it was, the rooftop would now be the focus of the Shade's attention so he couldn't stay there. With an annoyed huff, Harry set off to find some dark corner to hide in until things settled down.

–Scene Break–

To the complete chagrin of both Harry and Scáth, they were forced to spend almost an entire month in Gil'ead. The soldiers were on high alert and constantly patrolled the city, making it very difficult for Harry to properly survey the prison. It had taken him almost two weeks to get a proper idea of the shift changes and the patrols they made on the outside of the prison. He kept havening to dodge and evade search parties that constantly scoured the city for him. They only positive note was that the Shade was not personally hunting for Harry. Dragon and Rider both attributed this to the fact that the Shade had twice been humiliated by underestimating Harry's abilities and desired no more. Harry suspected that it also had something to do with the fact that Harry had heard one of the guards speaking in low tones a few nights prior about the king threatening the Shade if he did not get answers out of the elf soon. This was, actually, why Harry had moved to sneak into the prison tonight rather than wait any longer.

Disillusioned and spelled so he wouldn't make a sound, Harry crept silently through the halls of the prison peering into every cell he passed. Most were empty and the ones that weren't held ragged prisoners that looked nothing like an elf and were male besides. Finally, on the second floor of the prison, Harry beheld a cell with a cot inside. On the cot rested the very elf he was looking for. She was on her side, facing away from him, and if it weren't for the pointed ear Harry could see sticking up from her long black locks, he wouldn't have known she was an elf at all. She had a scabbard on hip but no sword.

Harry glanced around, both inside and outside the cell. Seeing no one, he whispered a quick unlocking charm and slipped inside the cell. The minute the door closed, he froze. Something was gripping him, pulling him, dragging him, urging him to leave.

Something is wrong, Harry thought urgently to Scáth, who was hovering in the night sky above the city.

Yes, I feel it too. Scáth replied sounding just as unsettled as Harry was.

What is it? Harry questioned as he tried to determine the source of this incessant pulling.

Scáth was quiet for a moment, thinking, before he replied in a grave tone. I think it is our oath we swore to protect Eragon kicking in.

That would mean… Harry said, his thoughts trailing off in despair.

Yes, Scáth replied, not wanting to voice it any more than Harry did. Quickly gather the elf and let us be off. Time is of the essence and our oath will not leave us be until we return to Eragon and Saphira.

Not bothering to argue, Harry rushed forward and made to lift the elf off the cot. Just as he was about to slip his hands beneath her slim form, Harry heard the tell tale scraping of a sword leaving its sheath. In a flurry of movement, Harry spun around, drawing Bhuailteoir as he did so and allowed his disillusionment charm to fall. It was the first time he had actually drawn the sword since he had placed his wands in the handle so he was surprised to see the sword shine more so than it usually did. He put it out of his mind though and instead, focused upon the Shade that was standing behind him, against the door with his pale sword in his hands. At this distance, Harry noted the scratch that ran from tip to hilt on the sword.

Get down here. Harry said in a deadly voice to Scáth.

"I had a feeling you would come for her," the Shade said in a smooth voice.

"And what, pray tell, would cause a Shade to concern himself with little old me?" Harry asked, stalling for time. He could feel Scáth diving out of the sky but he would still be at least another two minutes before he landed.

"For starters, you've managed to humiliate me, twice I might add," the Shade said with an angry scowl. "That is not something that is easily done, nor is it something I plan on ignoring."

Harry snorted and said, "Seemed easy enough to me." A crashing boom shook the room and was followed by several screams and a gigantic roar.

"You didn't come alone I see," the Shade said in a mildly surprised voice.

"Reducto!" Harry said in answer. Light flared along Bhuailteoir's length before it condensed into a ball of light and shot at the Shade at lightning fast speed. Not having expected such an assault, nor knowing what the word meant, the Shade was caught square in the chest and went crashing through the door and the wall beyond.

Harry turned and quickly lifted the elf onto his shoulder and dashed from the room. The building shook as Scáth raged on the roof, fending off the soldiers that were there. Harry managed to make his way to the third floor of the prison but was prevented from going any further by the soldiers that were fleeing inside in an attempt to escape Scáth's warpath. Scowling in annoyance, Harry dashed into a room so as to avoid the fleeing soldiers. Unfortunately, the room he had entered was the guardroom and it was filled with at least ten soldiers who were franticly grabbing at their weapons and trying to figure out what was going on.

"Damn it all to hell," Harry moaned in aggravation at his accursed luck.

In the few minutes he had while the soldiers stared dumbfounded at him, Harry gently set the elf on the ground next to the door where she wouldn't get hurt. He turned back just in time for the first soldier to come to his wits and charge him. Harry deflected the man's poor attempt at a strike, sideswiped his legs, and kicked him in the face, rendering the man unconscious. The other soldiers came out of their stupor and came at Harry all at once. The next several minutes were a blur of activity for Harry. He had never fought solo against so many people before and he blessed what gods there were for his agility and speed. Even so, Harry ended up acquiring several cuts, scrapes, and bruises. He tried to avoid outright killing the men whenever he could but he wasn't presented with many opportunities.

He yelped and there was a mighty roar from over head as a soldiers blade dug into his left hip before he manage to block and deflect the blow. He was saved the trouble of having to kill the soldier when a mighty claw suddenly broke through the ceiling and shredded the soldier into at least four different pieces. The other's instantly backed off, even as the claw retreated and tore a larger hole in the ceiling. Scáth's horned and scaly head entered into the room. He opened his maw and released a torrent of yellow and black flames. The soldiers screamed in fear and agony before they were consumed by death and fire.

Quickly, Scáth said as he clamped his jaw shut. The room was on fire but Harry could tell that several of the remaining soldiers had been reduced to nothing but ash. His only solace was that they had gone relatively quick.

Harry limped over to the elf, sheathing Bhuailteoir and hoisted her onto his shoulder on his good side. He paused only briefly to grab an elegantly wrought blade and slipped it into the elf's scabbard. He had no idea if the blade was hers but it was too beautiful and too out of place among the other weapons to be anyone else's. When he had the elf secure on his good side, Harry threw an arm over Scáth's thick neck and gripped one of his neck spikes. After ensuring that Harry had a good grip, Scáth removed his head from the large hole and immediately took flight. Harry absently noted that the roof was devoid of all soldiers and was even smoldering in several places

I was wondering how long it would be until you could breathe fire, Harry remarked absently as Gil'ead was quickly reduced to nothing more than a shinning speck in the distance. He felt Scáth beam with pride at his accomplishment.

Scáth flew long and fast into the night, angling south and following the pull of their oath to protect Eragon. It wasn't at such an intensity for either of them to believe that Eragon was in mortal danger but it was enough to drive them to fly southwest. Scáth flew well into the morning hours and didn't stop until the rays of morning light spread across the eastern sky. By unspoken consent, Scáth glided down on silent wings towards a blank stretch of land a number of leagues away from Gil'ead. He tired to be gentle in his landing but by virtue of being a five-month-old dragon, who was almost the size of a house, the landing was a little rough. Harry barely managed to hold on long enough for Scáth to lower his head so his feet were touching the ground. He forced his hand to release the neck spike that he had been gripping. Unfortunately, he forgot about his left hip and ended up putting weight on it. He hissed and fell to the ground in a heap, tangling with the curiously unconscious elf.

Are you ok? Scáth asked, concern radiating across their bond as he loomed over the pair.

"Just," Harry hissed and bit his lip as pain spread over his body as he attempted to push the elf off him. "Just acquired a little more damage than I previously thought."

Do you have any serious injuries? Scáth gently used his front teeth to grip the elf's black leather shirt and pulled her off Harry.

Only my hip as far as I can tell, Harry replied as he looked down and surveyed his tattered clothes and the blood that soaked it. Can you build a fire so I can see better?

Scáth hummed as he lifted his massive head and surveyed the landscape around them. He lumbered off to the side out of Harry's field of vision. Harry heard a giant tearing sound and then Scáth came back with a sapling in his mouth. He dropped it on the ground a few yards away. With a few swipes of his razor sharp ivory claws, he had the sapling chopped into three manageable pieces. He piled them all together and then a stream of fire, lighting the dry wood and creating a large bonfire.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled as he blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted.

As he shifted and tried to get a better look at his hip, Scáth came over and laid down behind him. Without being asked, Scáth slipped his scaly claw underneath Harry to support him. Harry sighed and allowed himself to relax against Scáth's support. The wound on his hip was close to his groin and while it was deep, it didn't appear to have punctured anything. Harry knew some anatomy but he didn't know any of the right words in the ancient language and he didn't have the skill with his wand to heal such a deep cut. However, ingenuity and intent were key pieces of working magic with the ancient language so he figured it was worth a shot.

"Waíse heill," he said, drawing on Scáth's strength as well as his own. Harry squirmed and stamped his foot as the veins, muscles, and skin writhed and knitted themselves back together. "By the gods that is the weirdest thing I have ever felt."

Is it fully healed? Scáth questioned as he bent his head down to sniff at Harry but smelling only blood and weariness.

Harry gently prodded the area with his fingers and was relieved to feel nothing but pressure. Apparently. He sighed as he shifted and looked at his myriad of other scratches and cuts. None of these other wounds seem very to be very bad so I don't think I should bother healing them at the moment.

What of the älfa-kona? Scáth asked, using the ancient language term for elf woman. She smells of blood as well and she still has not woken, despite having been shaken enough to wake a cow.

Harry chuckled lightly at Scáth's choice of words. They weren't all that funny but he was hungry and weak and they seemed funnier than they really were. She'll have to wait for the moment. Right now, I need to eat and regain some strength.

And how, Scáth questioned as he kneaded the ground with his other claw. Do you plan to retrieve any of the food when the pack full of your supplies is tied to the saddle?

"I've endured worse pain than this," Harry said as he hoisted himself up right, leaning heavily on Scáth's claw. "I think I can manage to get some food."

Scáth growled but otherwise didn't comment on the reference to Harry's past. He pressed himself flatter to the ground so Harry could better reach the pack full of supplies. Harry undid the string holding it in place and allowed it to fall heavily to the ground rather than straining himself trying to catch it. He dug in the bag for a few moments and pulled out several bits of food, mostly bread and meat, but a few vegetables as well. He laid his left hand on Bhuailteoir and conjured a pot and filled it with water. He tossed in the vegetables and meat, along with a few seasonings and then set it on the edge of the fire to cook while he munched on some bread.

Gil'ead looks like an over turned anthill, Scáth remarked, his head high above Harry as he looked north.

You can see Gil'ead from here? Harry asked looking up in surprise. The city was several leagues to the north and not even the uniform flatness of the plains allowed Harry to see the edges of the city.

Only the outer most parts, even then it is just a smudge on the horizon to me, Scáth explained, not taking his eyes away from where he was looking. Still, I can detect an enormous amount of activity.

Not surprising really, Harry said with a slight smirk. After all, we did announce ourselves rather spectacularly.

Scáth chuckled, sounding like an avalanche. We did at that.

Harry got up from where he had sat back against Scáth's claw and tended to the stew he was making. On his way back to resume his seat, he noticed that the elf was lying in a rather undignified heap a few feet away from Scáth. Having regained some of his strength from eating the bread, Harry meandered over to the woman and straightened her out and pulled her closer to the fire and his seat. He admired her striking features for the space of a single heartbeat before he settled down and contemplated over why she had yet to wake. Silently cursing the evils of the world, Harry reached for Bhuailteoir, intent on opening it and pulling out one of his wands. He froze when his mind registered what his hand was telling it. Harry looked down to see that his holy wand was already sticking out of the sword, encased in what looked to be a metal sheath that went up to the handle.

"Odd," Harry said aloud with a frown. Scáth bent down to sniff and examine the sword, as curious and dumbfounded as Harry.

I was not aware that swords could act of their own accord. He said after several minutes of examining the blade.

"Me either," Harry said, still speaking out loud as a result of his surprise. He gently pried the wand from the mental sheath. "I've come across a lot of inanimate things that have been animated by magic but this is different."

Scáth was silent for a few moments while Harry tended the stew and started casting spells over the elf. Maybe it is because you created it. Maybe because you created it and unwittingly used energy that is tied with the ancient language and the added strength of a dragon, maybe it has become intimately attuned to your wishes.

Well, Harry thought back since his mouth was busy casting diagnostic spells. If that is the case then it is both, safer and more deadly; safer because none but me can command its full power and deadlier because neither of us know the full extent of its powers.

Yes, but I think so long as you keep a strict control over it then you needn't worry about it leveling mountains or something of the sort, Scáth said as he returned to examining their surroundings and the brightening sky above them. Do you know what is wrong with her? He questioned after a few minutes of silence.

Aside from numerous bruises, cuts, and what appear to be a few broken ribs that I've already repaired, Harry said as he wiped the sweat from his brow and conjured a bowl for his stew and began eating. She has been poisoned. It is not any poison I am familiar with especially since I am ignorant of this land's plants and their attributes. I managed clear a good portion of the poison from her system but I cannot get rid of all of it and it will continue to build and spread unless we can get her to a proper healer. As for her coma… Harry paused as he devoured a few bites of his stew. I can find no cause for it. She doesn't appear to have suffered any physical injury to the head that would result in her prolonged state of sleep.

Something the Shade did perhaps, Scáth suggested as he sniffed curiously at the pot of stew.

No, Harry said as he refilled the bowl and gestured for Scáth to have the rest. I would've sensed a foreign magic working in her system. Either she is so completely exhausted and is in such a deep sleep that she can't be woken until she wakes herself or the coma is self induced and I'm not sure how that would happen.

Did you try contacting her mind? Scáth asked as he dipped his tongue into the pot to taste the stew.

No, Harry said again as he downed the last of his second helping. Scáth was too busy trying to scoop out the stew from the pot to form any sort coherent answer but managed to send a questioning sensation towards Harry, who chuckled and replied. For two reasons: one, you're still shielding my mind so I can't. Two, the Shade probably tried several times to break her mind and she would likely try to strangle whatever presence attempted to breach her defenses.

You have a talent for cooking when you have the right equipment, Scáth remarked as he scraped his barbed tongue over the insides of the now empty pot. Harry blushed but didn't comment. And you are right. She would probably attempt to strangle you mentally. Even as he spoke, a tingling sensation ran from the base of Harry's skull to the crown of his head, like water flowing up a waterfall. It was weird but nothing Harry wasn't accustomed to from years of performing magic and having magic performed on you. When the sensation stopped, Harry could once again sense the minds of the living things around him. He carefully avoided even brushing up against the elf's mind so he did not provoke her into attacking him.

Do you think you're up for a few more hours of travelling? Harry asked as he stood up and banished the pot and bowl. He slipped his wand back into the metal sheath that was attached to Bhuailteoir's handle. He watched, mesmerized as the wand melded seamlessly back into the handle of the sword.

Yes, the farther we get from Gil'ead, the happier I will be. Scáth said as he stood up and shook his massive shoulders. The Shade will likely be marshalling the soldiers to chase after us, not that they will catch us of course. The last part was said with a hint of smugness. Besides, our oaths will not let us rest properly until we have ensured that Eragon is safe.

Not bothering to reply, Harry retied his pack of supplies to the fur saddle and then proceeded to hoist the elf onto his shoulder, casting a featherweight charm in the process. She was already light to begin with but the relief of her weight would not only allow him to lift them into the saddle easier but would allow Scáth to fly farther faster and without having to stop too often. Once they were both settled and strapped into the fur saddle, Scáth scattered the remains of the fire and stamped them out with one of his large claws. Then, he spread his massive wings and took to the sky, angling south and gaining altitude with each flap of his midnight wings and following the pull of their oaths to protect Eragon.

They flew through the entire day and night, not stopping once. Harry didn't complain and ate his meals in the saddle. He had long since grown used to cramped situations or situations where he had to wait in a specific position for extended periods of time. In an attempt to extend their flight, Scáth glided from one air current to the next as much as he flapped his wings. He was a creature born of the sky and knew well how to read the skies currents, instinctually and because of the extended periods he spent in the air on Vroengard. By noon of their second day of flying, they were forced to stop so they could both rest and relieve themselves. Harry also needed to refill his water skin and tend to the elf. He had placed monitoring spells on her and he could feel the poison building again, albeit slowly. He tried to get her to eat some soup but she refused and only drank the water he would drizzle into her mouth.

After a few hours respite and a good nap on everyone's part, they once again took to the skies. Just before midnight on their third night, Harry had an idea on how to get a better idea of the elf's condition. Scáth consented that he believed it a good idea as he banked to the right to avoid a current that would force them southeast towards Urû'baen, not somewhere they wanted to go at the moment.

"Elf woman," Harry said speaking in the ancient language. He was sitting behind the elf so he could hold her and prevent her from falling so he was able to whisper straight into her ear. "If you can hear me in your deep sleep then know I am not thy enemy. You are free from the empire and can return to the waking world once more." Harry paused as a slight twitch ran through the elf's slight frame but when she remained still, he continued, still in the ancient language. "If you can hear me then forgive me for invading your privacy but I only wish to know what is wrong with you so I might help." To Harry's immense surprise, a lightning fast mental probe shot from the elf and linked with his before he could so much as blink.

Who are you to speak these things? A musical female voice asked even though the elf in his arms remained still and lifeless aside from the steady breathing.

I am a Rider free from Galbatorix's control and one who seeks to place his black heart on a spit. Harry replied, not entirely willing to fork over his name. He had no idea if this elf was trust worthy and his name was rather out of place in this world.

What is your name Rider? The elf woman pressed, though was a note of respect in her voice.

Harry shifted in the saddle and gazed over the sea of stars above while he consulted with Scáth. Finally, he said, Harry, my name is Harry. Yours?

She was silent for a moment before replying. Arya. You have a strange name Rider. How is you came to speak this language so easily?

Forgive me, Arya, but now is not the time for explanations. Harry deflected, not wanting to get sidetracked. I know you were poisoned but I know not with what, nor do I know why you have remained in this constant slumber.

I remain this way so as to stall the effects of the poison I received in Gil'ead. Was it you who healed my wounds and pushed back the poison's grip? Arya questioned with obvious curiosity.

Yes, but I cannot remove the poison completely only delay it. Do you know where I can find a cure? Harry asked, ruthlessly trying to keep her on topic.

There are only two places where it would be safe for you to take me. Arya said after a long pause, apparently deciding that pressing Harry for questions at the moment was, indeed, not wise. Since my people are beyond your reach at the moment, the only safe place to take me is to the Varden. I will tell you how to reach them if you do not already know but I want your word that you will not reveal their location to Galbatorix or anyone that works for him. You must also swear that you have not deceived me in some way and mean no harm to the elves, dwarves, Varden, or the race of dragons.

Scáth snorted, emitting a plume of black smoke and a small streak of flame and said; considering he is bound to a dragon do you not think that it is obvious he means them no harm? Harry could tell he wasn't really irritated, he just found the oath silly and unnecessary. Arya was stunned silent for several minutes. She clearly hadn't been expecting Scáth not only to be listening but to comment as well.

My apologies mighty dragon, she said eventually. But while it would seem obvious, past events teach us to be cautious, even towards those one would consider allies.

Such is the nature of life, Scáth said. If we do not learn from our past then we do not have a future.

Well said, Harry interjected in a neutral tone, deliberately not thinking of his own past. You have our word Arya. We have not deceived you and we mean no harm to the elves, dwarves, Varden, or dragons.

So be it, Arya said and imparted a series of images to Harry and she proceeded to give Harry instructions on how to find the Varden. When you reach the Varden, they must give me Túnivor's Nectar. Fair winds to you both.

Rest well Arya. Harry said and with that, they broke their connection. Strange folk, elves. Harry said to Scáth.

Aye, Scáth agreed.