New chapter then. And this will definitely be car action, car action, car action... and, oh wait, car action. As always, leave a review since it really makes my day and enjoy the chapter. Apologies for the slowed pace of the story suddenly, I just have to get these few details out before the big scenes, twists, etc come along; hopefully car action this chapter makes up for it.

Chapter 11 - New Ride

Eragon POV

I can't believe I got roped into this. Just cannot believe it.

Lunchtime, yesterday: I was sitting down, munching away on a sandwich and talking with Murtagh, Thorn and some other friends and bam. Saphira comes over suddenly, plops the address of the Oromis guy on my table and walks off while saying 'Good luck', leaving me spluttering there in shock and confusion. Of course I'd be the one to try and persuade this guy. Trust Saphira to be lazy…

Rapping my knuckles on the door in front of me twice, I step back and wait, giving the house – or rather mansion – a once over. The paper Saphira gave me said 22 Philmore Gardens which was in the East end of Kensington, populated largely by terraced houses and blocks of flats.

What the hell a bloody mansion was doing here, I have no clue.

The paintwork is all pure white in colour on the outside, with two grand pillars standing guard by the front door giving an imposing impression. Yet it's all pretty plain: no extensive decorations, no gold-plated gate in the driveway, no jewel-encrusted door handle, nor any exotic flora lining the garden.

Simple white paintwork, a small front lawn and a plain wooden front door. Oh crud, maybe he's one of those spiritual guru dudes. Negative energy and all that-

The door swings open suddenly, a seemingly middle-aged man now standing in front of me.

"Yes?" he says in a polite tone, smiling in a friendly manner at me.

"Sorry to bother you but are you Oromis Fraser?"

"I am indeed young man. How may I help you?"

"My name is Eragon Trent." As the words leave my mouth, his grey eyes seem to spark slightly, before returning to normal. Weird. "I've heard that you used to be a professional racer and drifter and so-"

"And so you wish for me to coach you as you are a part of one of the four street-racing groups in Kensington?" My mouth drops open, like some shell-shocked fish. I stutter in response, trying to form some coherent statement.

"W-Well, yes. I guess so. No point in lying."

"That is certainly true. Come, we can talk more inside."

"I know- Wait, really? I also heard that-"

"That I used to coach new members of the Paladins and Wardens a few years ago? And that I quit after doing so for a year? Yes, I did indeed. And so you expected me to simply shut the door immediately on learning of your reason for being here? It is a fair assumption but an incorrect one at that." Once again, I'm left speechless. This man is psychic, no question. He chuckles at my expression lightly, gesturing with his hand to come inside his home. As he leads me around, I take the opportunity to study his appearance more.

Silver-grey hair flows down to just above shoulder length, his face clean-shaven however and one or two wrinkles mark his forehead and cheeks. He sports simple clothes too: a white jumper, grey jog pants and plain white trainers.

It all reflects the inside of the building as well: minimal furnishings, plain sofas, only one medium-sized television, bare necessities in the kitchen and so on.

A down-to-earth person in a modest – well, almost modest – place.

Taking me to one of the many sitting rooms on the ground floor, I'm met with another new face.

"Ah, yes. This is Glaedr Jenkins, one of my longest friends. Since it's highly likely you know about my racing past," he says, as I nod in affirmation at this, "I'll also tell you that he used to be one of the drivers on my team in 24 hours Le Mans." Another retired professional racer? This must be my lucky day. I move my left hand out to shake his right hand as he stands to greet me but I quickly realise his right arm ends at the elbow, in a stump. Instantly, I open my mouth to apologise profusely but he raises his left hand in a gesture of nonchalance, shaking my right hand instead while I introduce myself. He turns to Oromis, humour evident in his eyes.

"I told you they'd return to try and bring you back. I heard your conversation at the front door and can safely say I'm not surprised."

"Well, I suppose it was inevitable. Sit, Eragon, please sit. I hear you've recently become a member of the Paladins having moved here only last weekend." Well hot dang. Why doesn't he just tell me my entire life story while he's at it? "The only reason I know this is because of my niece-"

"Wylandriah Fraser, head of the Wardens." I say, finishing his sentence. Of course that's how he's getting his info. The sneaky bastard.

"Indeed, indeed. Who perchance told you about my history and character then?"

"Arya-" I cut myself off, suddenly figuring out I don't know her surname. "Arya from the Wardens."

"Arya Elenwen? I remember her being a most apt trainee of mine when I coached her two years ago. She must have seen something in you then to recommend my coaching, yes?" I consider his words for a moment: Arya thinks I have some something 'special' then? That's certainly high praise coming from her, albeit in an indirect manner.

"I guess so." Oromis turns to Glaedr, gesturing for him to speak his opinion.

"I see no harm in this; it's entirely your decision friend." he says in a deep, rumbling voice, eyeing me momentarily.

"First, however, I wish to test the boy."

Enough with the testing already…

"We will be using a Nissan GT-R SpecV, 2012, i.e. this year's, model. However, it is custom made and some of the specifications have been varied to suit drifting. The most prominent of these is a modification to the transmission system. The GT-R normally comes out of the factory with-"

"An AWD 6-speed, dual clutch semi-auto transmission in conjunction with an ATTESA system." Oromis turns to me with an appreciative look at my knowledge.

"Indeed. A fan of the GT-R series I take it?"

"Indeed." I reply back, earning a smile from him in return at my quip.

Oromis had led me to a small elevator in his back garden after our initial conversation with Glaedr. It wasn't one of those modern ones where doors automatically slide shut and there's a control panel inside. Oh no, no, no. Instead it was open to the surroundings, with metal railings preventing passengers from falling off the side. A metal mesh had to be manually pulled up to secure the elevator, before a lever was pulled to send it downwards at a moderate speed. As we travelled down, a huge underground garage was revealed, at least 20 motorsport cars filling its space. Yet more astonishment came as we walked past the cars to a mini test-track in a separate expanse.

Unsurprisingly, I retracted my previous mental statement concerning the apparent 'simplicity' of this man.

"Continuing on then." says Oromis, breaking me out of my reverie. "The ATTESA system has an electronic torque splitter fitted, allowing the variation of torque supplied to the front wheel from the engine to be modified from the default ratio of 50:50 to the rear and front wheels. This default ratio has been permanently modified to 25:75 but can be altered further, providing more torque percentage to the rear wheels if desired. The semi-automatic transmission has also been replaced by a fully manual system, courteously provided by the Nismo motorsport division of Nissan who fitted the clutch pedal and gear stick."

"That's pretty sweet: racing quality transmission. Aren't you concerned over the extra weight this might have added though?"

"The SpecV already has a carbon fibre rear spoiler, brake ducts, grilles and interior trims, as well as-"

"Carbon ceramic brakes and titanium exhausts. Of course, I forgot about the material upgrades in this model."

"Even then, that's only the tip of the iceberg concerning variations in weight. The new transmission system also weighs only roughly two to three kilograms more than the old semi-automatic dual clutch one, thus being more than compensated for by the lightweight materials used."

"Has everything been slightly modified or are some parts of the car untouched?" I ask, eager to see if the engine has had some sort of a revamp.

"No, only weight and transmission have been modified. The engine, suspension, brakes and so on have been left largely alone, apart from a few electronic tweaks concerning computer management of those areas to improve performance by 5% roughly." He laughs lightly at my expression. "Power is never everything, Eragon. Good handling, smooth gear changes and clever driving more than make up for it during races." Signalling to me with one arm to enter the car, I walk over and put my hand on the driver's door, marvelling at the sight of the machine.

The GT-R is a favourite of mine as it's the successor to the Skyline series, also made by Nissan. Having won my first street-race in a Skyline a year or so ago, the GT-R instantly became a hit for me when it went into production in 2007.

My hand glides over the door, the sleekness of the paintwork and bodywork evident. I get in, adjusting to the Recaro racing seat while turning the key already present in the car ignition and pushing the 'Start' button in front of the handbrake.

Now that is music to my ears.

A throaty, rumbling noise permeates the air, rising in amplitude as I rev the engine a couple of times.

What. A. Sound.

Disengaging the handbrake and shifting into first, I look to Oromis and Glaedr in expectation who've both walked over to the car now. Glaedr's eyes are clearly gleaming in amusement at my excitement while Oromis looks to another part of the underground garage we're now in.

"My niece has also informed me that you've already been tested somewhat by the Paladins and Wardens. However, what I will put you through will be much more rigorous." I gulp lightly at his ominous statement and the now serious look on his face.

"Let's do it then." I reply, keeping the anxiety out of my voice somehow.

"We'll start with some basics." He walks around the car and slides into the passenger seat next to me. "Just accelerate down the straight until you reach 100mph, before coming to a halt as fast as you can."

I do the mental equivalent of raising my eyebrows at his simple request. That's it? Alright then. Fulfilling his request, I hit the accelerator and switch up to second, then third in quick succession. The modifications made to the transmission are extremely noticeable: it's just so… smooth. There's no other way to describe it.

Hell, it makes any other car's gearbox I've driven seem ten times as more clunky and stiff.

Reaching 100mph in roughly nine seconds or so, I switch my right foot to the brake pad and slam down on it, feeling myself lurch forward slightly as the car's speed dramatically reduces. Sixth gear tumbles to third gear swiftly, the car now at 50mph. I manage to catch a quick look at Oromis' face but it's pretty much blank, giving away no reaction whatsoever.

The car rolls to a halt a few seconds later and I shift to neutral, before pulling the handbrake up to lock the car in position.

"Good: safety and sensibility in a car seem to be naturally built into you." says Oromis, pointing his hand at the handbrake and gear stick with a look of approval on his face. "Your gear changes upwards are most impressive, hand and thumb positioning on the gear stick correct too at higher gears. Downward shifting is perfectly fine as well although I do have one question. Do you know how to heel-toe downshift?"

"Honestly, I have no idea what that even is."

"As I thought but no matter: it can be taught with practice. Next test: a drift. There's a rather angled corner ahead, quite sharp and tight. Your task is simply to drift around it successfully. Begin when you're ready."

Sounds simple enough. I just need to make sure I angle the drift a bit more than usual to get round this corner if it's as sharp as Oromis says.

Pushing the handbrake down and shifting into first, I set the car in motion and build up a moderate amount of speed. Thinking back to yesterday, there's no way I'm going to try and enter this at 70mph and burnout in front of him.

Hitting 60mph as the corner approaches, I hit the brakes to slow to around 45mph before wrenching the steering wheel in the direction of the turn while simultaneously ripping the handbrake up. Why am I using the handbrake? To bloody make sure I get the car to lose traction and go around the corner; better to be safe than sorry in this situation.

As expected, the back end slips out and I quickly switch to the throttle, preventing the car from completely losing control. I let the back end angle out slightly more than usual due to the tight corner and counter-steer as necessary.

The GT-R swings its way around the bend almost effortlessly, planting a huge grin on my face as all goes to plan and a few clouds of smoke appear from the back tyres spinning wildly.

Straightening out and once again coming to a standstill, I repeat my previous actions of putting the car in neutral and pulling the handbrake up and look to Oromis.

"Your car control is good: precise and well-handled. Use of the handbrake was perhaps an amateur move but I'm guessing your sensibility advised you to use it, to make sure you increase your chances of sliding the car. Correct?"

"Spot on."

"Another question has come to my mind however. Do you know the clutch-kick technique of drifting?"

"No, I've never learnt that before."

"Again, it is no cause for concern as it is another technique learned simply. Now, onto the next test."

An hour passes with Oromis really putting me through my paces. Drifting around U-corners, long slides (where after a long straight, a shallow corner comes up allowing for drifting at much higher speeds) where I thankfully didn't manage to burnout or lose control, slaloms between cones, standing starts with no wheel spin allowed and so on. You name it, he tested it.

"Here comes the beginning of the real challenge Eragon. You have clearly ingrained all the techniques you know so far but how well, and how quickly, can you learn an advanced one?"

"I guess I'll find out." I reply hesitantly, licking my lips nervously at what he might throw at me.

"Glaedr will be your teacher for now." says Oromis, climbing out the car and sitting down on a bench on the far side of the garage. Glaedr enters the Nissan a moment later, clipping on his seatbelt and turning his head to me.

"I will be teaching you heel-toe downshifting which is a fairly high-level racing technique."

"Oromis mentioned that earlier, asking me if I knew how to do it…" I reply, trailing off in a quiet voice. I feel a bit lacking in knowledge considering the events of the past few days: not being able to pendulum and now this 'heel-toe' shifting.

"Don't be so disheartened Eragon. As I said, it truly is an advanced technique but hopefully you should master it today." A mysterious look appears on his face suddenly as he looks over my facial features before glancing at Oromis. "You have natural talent Eragon, both Oromis and I agree on that having watched you for the past hour. It's refined in some places but raw in others, yet that's easily improved upon." Giving me a wry smile, he clears his throat before speaking again. "Now, onto heel-toe shifting.

Let me first ask you a question: when you dip the clutch, in preparation for downshifting, do you notice anything occur? Specifically, as soon as you begin to press the clutch pedal?"

"The engine revs begin to drop." I answer.

"Indeed. Now, when downshifting, what problem could this present when reengaging the engine to the driveshaft in a rear-wheel drive car such as this one?" Problem? Shoot, no idea. In response, I give him a blank stare to which he sighs and opens his mouth once more. "Let me rephrase it slightly: since the engine speed falls, meaning there is a now a difference between the speed of the driveshaft and the engine, what problem or effect could this cause when disengaging the clutch i.e. reengaging the engine? Think about the two rotating parts, revolving at different speeds each, suddenly meeting along a common plane of their faces." It clicks.

"You get slipping between the two which creates some sort of disturbance?"

"Exactly, the disturbance being jolting of sorts which upsets the balance of the car, especially so when cornering or preparing to drift into a turn. To rectify this, we simply blip the throttle while braking to raise the engine speed to match that of the driveshaft, i.e. the car, helping to synchronize the two moving parts. "

"Wait, wait. Braking while using the throttle? How on earth does that even work? Don't tell me I have to-"

"Use two pedals simultaneously with one foot? Why, yes you do Eragon. That is why it's named 'heel-toe' shifting: your left foot operates the clutch while your right foot toes, or rather the ball of your right foot, operates the brake and your right heel the accelerator. I'll talk you through the steps and then you can practice with the car in neutral.

Imagine you are approaching a corner and you begin to brake with your right foot as per normal. Instead of pressing down with your whole foot, simply use the ball of it only to leave the heel ready for the accelerator. These next steps are done almost simultaneously: engaging the clutch, you shift to neutral while continuing to brake steadily. At the same time, twist your right foot so your heel is able to reach the throttle and blip the accelerator to quickly increase the engine speed, matching that of the driveshaft approximately. Once you've blipped the throttle, twist your right foot back into position, keeping in mind you're still braking steadily here, and shift down to the lower gear from neutral before releasing the clutch pedal. By now you've reached the entrance of the corner and you apply a steady pressure to the accelerator as you turn before going completely flat out as you exit the corner, as per normal.

This whole process only takes half to a whole second, Eragon, so expect some gear crunching, slippery feet and failures before you succeed."

"Can we run through that again once more?" I ask timidly, overwhelmed by the whole process. He laughs at my perplexed expression before repeating the instructions once more.

"Just remember overall: the key is to synchronize braking and accelerating, achieve a feel for how much you need to 'blip' the throttle and create a smooth motion which comes naturally."

Like that's not difficult at all. What else did the tooth-fairy tell you?

"We'll start with the car in neutral and practise the pedal motions."

Murtagh POV (earlier in the day)

As soon as I turned up to school today, I was bombarded with questions from Nasuada, Thorn and so on, asking why I didn't show up yesterday, what I was doing and what 'family issues' meant most of all.

Why the fuck did I send that text. I should've just kept quiet and said I was ill or something.

Good job, Murty. Good job. Such a clever brain you have.

I grunt sharply as Nasuada elbows my gut in class. For the fiftieth God damn time.

"What?!" I hiss at her, my mouth barely moving as I face the front, looking as if I'm paying attention.

"Why are you being so secretive?" she whispers, mimicking my actions to give the same 'I'm clearly paying attention' look.

"Because." I can pretty much hear her shriek mentally at my response.

"Because what?"

"Because it's none of your business." My fist clenches, snapping the pencil currently in my hand cleanly in two. "And just leave it at that, alright?" Her expressions turn to hurt, twisting my insides with guilt, before forming a hardened mask.

"Fine." I flinch slightly at her ice-cold tone.

"Mr Rennox and Mrs Bryn! Could you please stop chatting amongst yourselves and pay attention this instant!" Busted. Clearly this was her fault as I-

"Sorry Ms Wood, Murtagh kept bugging me about something so I was trying to tell him to shut up." I-I'm sorry, what? What tom-foolery is this?!

"Wait just a minute-" I start, in protest at Nasuada's lies.

"I don't want to hear it Mr Rennox. Please refrain from annoying your classmates in the future. Now, return your attention to the whiteboard."

I glare at Nasuada to which she replies by sticking her tongue out at me. And they say girls mature faster than boys.

"Looks like the lovebirds are arguing again. Just go bang each other already. Sheesh." remarks Thorn quietly, sitting behind us. He goes pale and gulps visibly as Nasuada and I both turn to give him deathly looks.

I still can't believe I got blamed out of the two of us. Then again, Nasuada is the daughter of the headmaster and Ms Trianna Wood doesn't exactly list me as one of her favoured students. Oh, no, no. She acts like a bit of slut, put bluntly i.e. practically flirting with all the sporty dudes and the usual.

Taking a quick glance to Nasuada on my left, I twirl a new pencil in my hand while thoughts relating to last night flood my mind. When Dad got home last night, I kept quiet and avoided eye contact: I was that paranoid about him being able to figure out something was wrong.

Dropping my head into my hands, I let out a long breath.

White powder. Drugs.

What else could it mean? I'm even more frustrated by the fact that I can't ask him about it without creating some sort of a scene. As if I could just waltz up to him and ask 'Hey Dad, you don't happen to deal crack do you?'

He lied to me.

Maybe. I need to find out exactly what that stuff is. Somehow.

The bell signalling the end of school sounds its normal trio of rings and I rush out of class, hoping to intercept Nasuada before she drives home. I catch her by her orange McLaren MP4-12C, packing her things into the back seat.

"Nasuada! I-"

"Save it Murtagh. You want to sulk and wallow in despair at your problems, rather than come to your friends and share your burdens with us? Fine. Be like that." Grabbing her arm, I turn her to face me again, desperate to set things right.

"I'm sorry. I just… I just didn't know how to tell you all. It's about my Dad and it's been driving me crazy all day, leading to me getting snappy and angry. And in the end, you're right. I do need to tell someone else." I glance at the exit of the car park before looking at her once more. "Can we talk about this in a café or something rather than in school?" A huge smirk works its way across her face as she processes my words.

"Why Murtagh, are you asking me out on a date?" Shit.

"I-I just thought, well you know… I'm not sure if… I don't know." I reply, floundering like an absolute idiot. A peal of laughter rings out from her at my jumble of words.

"I was only kidding Murty. C'mon, let's talk this over somewhere else then. And no more secrecy: if you have issues, tell Arya, tell Eragon, tell Saphira. Tell anyone. Even me."

"Yeah, sure." My tone is hushed, taking in the sincerity of her words. "Eugh, woman. You're making me go all mushy inside. Man pride levels… falling…" Making fake choking noises, I drop to the ground and start writhing around. Nasuada sighs loudly, before yanking me up roughly by my armpits.

"That tickles!"

"Good, at least it made you get up off your fat arse."

"I take offence at that remark."

"Let me cry you a lake."

"Enough of this idle talk. Onwards, to the coffee shop!" I march forward in a sort of superman pose while she shakes her head in exasperation.

It takes about five minutes of walking to reach a local Costa's, down on Holland Street.

"Hey Murtagh, what's going on?"

"Elynea? You work here?" I ask, the confusion on my face evident. She's a girl in my tutor group; we're friends but not close like I am with Thorn and the rest.

"Of course, why else would I be here?" I blush slightly at my obvious question. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nasuada's posture has stiffened slightly. What's up with her now?

"Yeah, silly question. Sorry."

"It's fine." she laughs, waving her hand in non-chalance. "So what can I get you and your friend? Or is she just your friend?"

"Just his friend actually. I'm Nasuada by the way, I think I've seen you around school a few times but we don't seem to have any classes together." Her voice comes out friendly but her body language is all but the opposite. What is wrong with her? Don't tell me she's…

"I think I've seen you around too. Shame we don't have any of the same classes." The smile that appears on Nasuada's face at Elynea's reply seems genuine but she's still tensed up. "So, what can I get you guys?"

"I'll have a mocha primo and she'll have a macchiato primo, if I'm remembering her favourite correctly." Winking at Nasuada, I turn back with my wallet out ready to pay. She looks away awkwardly with a small cough.

"I'll go find us a table. It was nice meeting you Elynea." With that, she abruptly walks off, slowly wiping the smile off on my face.

What just happened.

"Is she alright? She looks a little peeved." asks Elynea, gesturing towards her.

"Yeah, we just had a bit of an argument over something so she's been a bit pissed today." We talk for a few more minutes as she prepares our drinks. "I'll see you around at school then."

"Sure and try and cheer her up Murtagh, having a ticked off girl on your hands is unadvisable. Trust me, I know."

"I'll try." Walking over to the table outside Nasuada chose, I sit down opposite her as she looks around, twiddling her thumbs. "Hey, I got us our drinks." Hesitating, I take a small breath before opening my mouth again. "Before we talk about me, is there something bothering you? I mean as soon as we came in, you-"

"No, no. I'm fine Murtagh. Let's-"

"Don't be such a hypocrite: one minute ago you're telling me to share my problems and now here you are locking yours up. Tell me what's wrong. Come on." Anger laces my tone and I begin to reach across to grab her hand before pulling back.

"That was for serious issues, not petty ones like mine."

"So jealousy is a petty problem of yours then?" Her mouth forms an 'O' shape at my quip and rage fills her features.

"How dare you! You-"

"Nasuada. It was as clear as daylight: you were all tensed up as soon as I said her name in a familiar voice. We're just friends, chill. Moving on, where do you want me to start then?"

"How about what exactly happened yesterday afternoon? Why you didn't reply to any of my texts or phone calls?" Her eyes shine with anxiety as she asks her next question. "What were these 'family issues'?" Taking a quick sip of my coffee, I begin.

"I came home as normal and saw my Dad's study unlocked. Normally, that room's shut up tighter than a bloody bank safe but the fact that it was open made me too curious. So I went in and had a look around." Twiddling the plastic cup in my hands, I take a deep breath for the next part. "Everything seemed normal at first but then…

Then I saw a stack of boxes, with the top one open. Again, I was too curious and I went over to see what was in them. I found them full of packets of white powder, labelled 'White' followed by two numbers and a letter. No official documents, information on ingredients or any indication of what it was were with them. The boxes were plain too with no company logo or label on them either.

I panicked, dropping the packet back into the box and rushing out the room to mine. I was going to call 999 but I figured I should first at least find out if they were… you know…"

"Illegal drugs?" answers Nasuada quietly, her eyes widened with astonishment.

"Yeah. I mean, I just don't know how to piece this all together. My Dad's a lawyer and I've seen the stacks of files on his desk before containing court cases and such. Now, to think that he might be dealing crack on the side, is simply blowing my mind into little pieces. I-I mean, what the actual fuck am I supposed to think?!" I run my hands through my hair in frustration, lowering my forehead to the table. Suddenly a warm hand covers one of mine.

"Hey, look at me Murty. You'll- We'll sort this out somehow. You've got your friends at hand to help. And you've got me to help." I feel our fingers interlock, both of us now looking at each other intently.

"Of course. Your infamous detective skills will most certainly be of use, dear Watson. However, I, the great Sherlock-"

"Enough of the monologues, you dunce." She says, fighting back giggles. Our hands somehow slid apart during my attempt to lighten the mood and I can't say I didn't like the feeling when they were together.

My God. You absolute sop, Murtagh.

"Nobody understands me." I reply, wiping away a fake tear for effect. "One other thing I remembered: what's going on with Saphira and Arya? Arya practically refused to talk to her or even look in her direction all day today."

"You know, I have no idea whatsoever. It must have happened some time yesterday evening, when we were at the Warden's base with Eragon."

"Hmm. Could've been a catfight over Eragon?" I say with a chuckle, causing Nasuada to roll her eyes.

"I really doubt that." She takes a small gulp of her coffee before absent-mindedly looking around. I find myself just staring at her, before abruptly looking down as she turns back to me with a questioning look. "Something on my face Murtagh? You seem awfully interested in it." Lightly coughing in embarrassment, I mutter some incoherent sentence in response. "Maybe I should tell Eragon and the rest about this: 'Guys, Murtagh can't seem to stop checking me out.' Now that will earn you a few days of mockery."

"You wouldn't…" I trail off, looking at her playfully but seriously at the same time. Dear Lord, if she tells Eragon then all hell, and I mean all hell, will break loose i.e. his payback for my constant teasing.

"Maybe." she replies, twirling a lock of her mossy hair with a glint in her eyes. Uh-oh.

"H-Hey, come on now. I came out and bought you coffee. That must count for something? Right?"

"I suppose I might drop it."

"That's the best I'm gonna get, huh?"

"Yup."

"So be it." I say, downing the rest of the contents of my cup and setting it down sharply. Nasuada finishes hers too a few seconds later. "Head back now?"

"We might as well." She's quiet for a few minutes as we walk back down Holland Street before speaking again. "We should do this again sometime."

"I swear I should be the one asking that." I reply, arching an eyebrow earning me a thump to my arm. "Yeowch! You hit hard for woman, not hiding something are we? Hold on now, I was only kidding- Nasuada!" By now her face is furious yet I can see the mirth in her eyes. Doesn't stop her from trying to beat me with her handbag though.

In public.

Eragon POV

Clutch in and shift down from fourth to neutral, while still braking. Twist right foot, paddle throttle lightly and shift down to third. Still braking the entire time. And accelerate finally.

These are the instructions running over and over in my mind yet my hands and feet fail to cooperate every time. The latest attempt resulted in a very noticeable jolt as I blipped - I say blipped, more slammed - the accelerator a bit more than required.

"Alright, let's take a break Eragon." Slowing to a halt, I let my hands slide down the steering wheel as I huff in frustration. "So far, you're not doing bad at all: you have the basic gist of the pedal control but you simply lack precision, in terms of pressure applied to the pedals."

"So how can I improve that?" I ask, the anger at my previous failures seeping through into my tone.

"More practice." He holds up a finger as I attempt to protest. "This time however, I will perform the technique a few times and you will keep a sharp eye on my feet on the pedals. And I mean a sharp eye: focus on my right foot mostly and how far I press the throttle down."

We change seats quickly and Glaedr lines up along the straight-section of the indoor track. I keep my eyes trained on his feet as instructed, feeling the car begin to accelerate rapidly. Hearing him reach 4th gear, I instantly switch my attention to his right foot. It all happens so fast: I make sure not to blink to miss it but his foot is off the throttle as soon as it touches it. Damn.

He lines up for a second attempt and this time I catch a glimpse of something useful: as he slides the heel of his right foot, it's already pushing down before his entire heel reaches the accelerator. And then the small blip comes. Realisation hits me suddenly: I keep delaying in exactly the same way as when I was learning the pendulum motion. By sliding my heel over fully and then attempting to 'blip', I end up overdoing it. The delayal in pushing my heel down slightly means I can't be precise. Bingo.

After three more demonstrations by Glaedr, he asks if I've grasped the meaning of 'precision' now. Nodding in response, we switch again and I begin my latest attempt.

No delays. Push down faintly as soon as you begin to slide your heel.

I go through the same motion and, as I shift down to third from neutral, the car doesn't jolt, doesn't feel clunky, doesn't crunch gears. Nothing. The smile that erupts on Glaedr's face tells me all I need to know.

"Perfect! Just run through it several times more to really make sure you memorise and familiarise yourself with the action thoroughly."

Doing so, with a barely restrained gleeful expression, I hit the mark every time. No wonder this technique is advanced and invaluable: the difference between normal and heel-toe downshifting is extremely noticeable to the attuned driver. Weight shifting and balance isn't upset and, naturally, it helps to reduce clutch and gearbox wear. Two good things for the price of one, eh?

Switching the engine off (almost regretfully), we both get out and walk towards Oromis who stands up as we approach.

"Remarkable. I remember only a handful of people managing to grasp this technique in the space of a few hours, as you have done so today, when I taught this a year ago to other racers."

"I bet Arya was in that 'handful' of people…" I mutter, not expecting Oromis to hear my remark. I really need to learn that this guy pretty much has super hearing and vision.

"Indeed she was, I believe. No need to be so resentful, she has a natural flair with cars as much as you do."

"Mm." I respond, absently agreeing. Speaking of Arya, I really need to thank her for setting me up to meet Oromis.

"…in the space of a few hours…" A few hours?! How long have I been here?

Fumbling with my watch, I read the time as six-thirty pm. 'Better hurry', I think to myself, seeing as I told Aunt and Uncle that I'd be back by around quarter-to-seven.

"I should probably leave now, I told Uncle Brom that I'd be back in about fifteen minutes time."

"Brom? Do you by any chance mean Brom Newman?" snaps Oromis, his hand coming to grip my shoulder. I nod slowly, having seen Uncle Brom's full name for the first time while nosing around in his post yesterday. "He's your Uncle?" His tone sounds perplexed, causing me to become confused as well. What's ruffled his shirt?

"Yes but how do you know him?" I reply, the question burning away in my mind. Glaedr answers instead.

"Brom used to be our apprentice. We coached him for Le Mans and, even before that, for Touring Car racing somewhat. However, he never divulged to us the fact that he had a nephew."

"How old are you, if you don't mind my asking?" questions Oromis, cutting in quickly.

"Seventeen." They both give each other enigmatic looks at my response before clearing their expressions. "I really need to go now; I have about ten minutes to escape being roasted alive by Uncle Brom." Oromis chuckles at that, an almost nostalgic appearance crossing his face for a moment.

"Understandable Eragon. Brom always was one to become snappish and lose patience easily. But, before you go…" He gestures to Glaedr beside him.

My left hands snap out to catch the set of keys Glaedr flings at me suddenly. The metallic Nismo key-ring attached to the keys reflects off the indoor lighting, making it sparkle in my hand. Jaw dropping, I sputter in protest and surprise at the implied gift. "I-I… r-really, I can't accept this! Why-"

"Tell Brom it's a late gift from us. He'll understand." replies Glaedr, interrupting me. I take on a guilty look, laced with jealously, from instantly desiring to own a car like that myself.

"Brom will most likely let you drive and keep the car. Even though he rarely displays it, he's a kind soul deep down. Don't worry about persuading him. And do not deny it, we can see it on your face: you desperately want to own one of these cars. Correct?"

"Correct…" I mumble in response, looking down abashedly.

"Then there's no need to feel ashamed or greedy Eragon. Consider it an indirect gift from Brom since he will, in all likelihood, let you own the car."

"I suppose. It just seems a bit much. I'm not used to owning expensive items, let alone a supercar." Understanding dawns on their faces and Glaedr pats my shoulder reassuringly, but with a glint of humour in his eyes. "Well, get used to it Eragon. You're in Kensington now and everybody who street races here needs a good old-fashioned, expensive supercar."

Opening Oromis' extensive garage door is a feat in itself.

First a ten digit code needs to be put in. Oh no, not the usual three or four. Bloody ten of them. Who wants to remember ten digits in a specific order? Normally nobody I know.

Then it takes about half an hour for the damn door to actually open, using the electric motors. But wait, we're not done just yet. Then another ten digit code needs to be punched in to deactivate the infrared sensors dotted along the entrance to the garage.

Although, I can hardly blame the guy; he does have about twenty motorsport cars tucked up in there so you can't be too careful, even in Kensington.

Rolling out the garage slowly in my GT-R, I leave the engine running as I get out to reclose the garage. I start pacing around randomly, waiting for this hunk of metal to close.

"Eragon?" Spinning to face the source of the sound, I remain speechless as I drink in the sight of the woman before me. Why am I speechless? Allow me to elaborate on her clothing.

She's wearing light-green jeggings that fit oh so snugly to her hips and legs, outlining her curves in all the right places. Green flats, of a darker shade than her shoes, along with a white patterned shirt, underneath a forest-green gilet with a furry hood, complete her outfit. As well as leaving me standing there rooted to the spot, like someone had placed me in invisible chains of air.

"Oh. Hi Arya." is my dumbass response, before I blink rapidly and shake my head a few times. "What're you doing here then?"

"Coming to see if you managed to persuade Oromis to coach you and, if so, how you were getting on. Are you done for the day then, I'm guessing?" she replies, gesturing to the still closing garage door.

"Yeah. Oromis told me to come back on Saturday afternoon sometime to start training me properly. Today he just put me through a whole series of tests. Which I passed, before you try and make any wisecracks." A smug look works its way onto my face. It quickly vanishes as she raises an eyebrow and folds her arms across her chest in a warning-like manner. "Which I'm sure you wouldn't of course. Yeah, totally wouldn't." I say, quickly backtracking to save my skin.

"You're assumption is correct." she replies, relaxing once more. Whoo. Safe. Looking around briefly, I don't see her bike or any other mode of transport nearby. How did she get here? Voicing my question, she rolls her eyes exasperatedly. "It's called walking; you might want to try it sometime. They say it's good exercise."

"Har har, no need to go all sarcastic on me. Still, I thought you would be at the Wardens place practising or just watching some action."

"I figured I'd rather watch you struggle instead. Much more entertaining, wouldn't you agree?"

"Ouch. That hurts, oh ye of little faith. I'll have you know-"

A dull bang jolts us both as the garage door shuts completely, breaking the banter we had going and causing us to look towards the source of the sound abruptly. Curse you automated door for scaring us.

An icy wind rushes past us causing me to shiver slightly and Arya, even ice-cold Arya, wraps her arms around herself slightly and pulls the zip on her gilet all the way up.

Drip.

Blinking, I rub a hand across my forehead as I feel a drop of wetness fall on it. Great. Looking up into the darkness, I search for any stars in the night sky and, having found none, conclude that it's definitely about to rain.

Unlocking the Nissan remotely, I quickly dive into the driver's seat while motioning Arya to get in too. She looks at me questioningly but complies, shutting the door as the clouds above release their great weight.

"BBC Weather has done it again. They forecast a clear night tonight and instead we get a downpour. The people working there honestly need to go back and re-do their meteorology degrees. Stupid weather presenters…" I complain, turning the heater up to full blast; it's like a mini fridge in here. Arya responds with a light smirk before looking around the dashboard.

"Who's car is this by the way?"

"Mine." I answer instantly, pride welling up within me.

"Yours? I'm fairly sure you told us you didn't own a car, or were you keeping it a secret?"

"No secrets and I didn't own one before tonight." Her expression remains impassive but her eyes widen slightly and one of her eyebrow arches itself up.

"You're saying Oromis gifted you with this car?" Pushing the handbrake down and shifting into gear, I roll out of Oromis' driveway and head down the road.

"It's sort of a long story. Not long, long but long."

"That is, in no way, shape or form, at all helpful." she replies deadpan.

"Alright, alright. I'll tell you along the way to your house. Speaking of which, not to sound like a creeper, but where do you live?"

"I'll guide you there while you tell me your 'sort of long but not long, long' story."

"No need to mimic me. That's the best way I could express it."

"Whatever you say, Eragon. Whatever you say." She's fighting back a smile as she says this, my fake pouting expression amusing her.

It takes ten minutes to reach Arya's house - I mean, mansion - and I just about finish summarising to her everything that happened after school today while I pull into her driveway.

"And that's that. A pretty good day, if I do say so myself."

"I have to agree. And I'll admit, begrudgingly, you have me impressed in learning heel-toe shifting in under a few hours." Pretending to clean out my ears, I cup my hands behind them while asking her to repeat what she just said. This of course earns me a whack up the backside of my head.

"And that's what I get for being a gentleman and dropping you off home." I say, rubbing my head gingerly. "So I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Sure." She pauses for a moment before leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on my cheek. "Thanks for the lift Eragon." Instantly, her eyes lock onto mine and an expression of mild terror appears, as if she's snapped out of a spell cast on her and realised the extent of her actions. All but bolting out of the car, she briskly enters her house with the front door opening and closing in the space of a millisecond practically.

All I can do is sink back into my seat and revel in the memory of the feeling of her soft, supple lips on my skin. I'd be lying if I say I don't feel like some moonstruck idiot.

Although… I am utterly confused as to why she would do what she did. Women: what I wouldn't give to understand even a tenth of what goes on in their minds.

However, as I continue staring at her front door in wonder, one thought crosses my mind.

If that's what her lips feel like on my skin, how long till I get to feel them on my own lips?

And end there. So, a bit of car/engine theory there. Hopefully I didn't bore you to death with the details. Leave a review as always guys and girls, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter after the usual delay. Don't hesitate to add any criticisms concerning too much car detail, too little of something else and so on. See you soon.

Notes:-
-A jumper is what you USA people (I say that a lot, 'you USA people', no offence to you guys/girls of course) call a jacket, as my great friend *cough* annoying person *cough* Unrivaled Mind tells me. I mention this so you don't accidentally picture it as something else.

-The torque-splitter in the car means that basically the power can be split in various ratios to the front and back wheels since it's an AWD (all-wheel-drive) car, or four wheel drive more commonly known.

-Handbrakes are used a lot for powersliding and drifting but it does look amateur even though it is the most sure-fire way to get a car to slide. So people try to quickly move on and learn advanced techniques to avoid using it.

-Blip the throttle means to just quickly jab it but not so much that it hits the floor, only lightly. So more like a quick, sharp prod with your foot.

-Arya's surname, like all IC characters in this fic, is different to the normal ones i.e. Drottning(u). All the usual names are middle names. Also, Brom's surname probably has you thinking 'Wtf. Why is Eragon's surname different?' All part of the plot my friends, all part of the plot…

-Eragon's such a lovestruck idiot. xD

Cars:-

-Nissan GT-R Spec V: 2009-present, 2-door (but back seats can be added. They were removed in the Spec V), 3.8L V6, 3.2s 0-60mph, 545bhp, 193mph, 6-speed semi-auto transmission (normally, changed in this fic as you saw). Awesome car and consider the fact that the normal version is only £53,000 yet on the Top Gear test track it's faster than a Ferrari Scuderia, McLaren SLR, etc. I mean… damn.