Hi guys, if you're still there of course! I am SOO sorry for not updating in so long, but writer's block has simply got the best of me. I do, however, have some good news: I have 3 weeks of school holidays coming up after this week, and so I am going to PROMISE that on every Friday of those holidays, you will have a new chapter! Also, to say sorry for making you wait all this time and thank you for anyone who has stuck with me, (though I won't blame you if I haven't,) everyone who reviews this chapter will get a pre-release copy of the next one! Please note though that this will be unedited and will probably be pretty sloppy. Some present, huh?

Oh, and this goes out to my fellow members of the Circle of Circles; we all love your stories, and since I am determined to revive my story, please do the same! Come on Tam and Elemental, let's bring it back!

Well, I know this chapter wasn't worth the wait, but I at least hope that it doesn't disappoint! Read on!

The silence that followed was absolute. Angela, Oromis and, most of all, Evandar, all wore pained expressions on their faces and all seemed to be afraid to elaborate on the matter in case it might make it more true. Arya wasn't sure to make of this revelation. Frankly, the wellbeing of this person whom she had never met concerned her very little, considering the other things she had to worry about, but she couldn't help thinking that if the king of the gods was missing, things must be going rather badly indeed.

"And..." she said after a while, finally breaking the heavy silence. "And you think I can help you get him back?"

After another few long moments, Evandar nodded. "Yes, Arya. We need your help to save him."

There was another long silence. Arya simply could not comprehend what he was saying. How could she be of any use?

"But..." she said, "I...I've only just learned about your world!"

"Our world." Corrected Oromis. "You belong with the Grey Folk and Aleala as much as you belong to the elves and Alagesia, and to the riders on New Vrorengard. You're one of us."

"One of us, one of us..." murmured Angela drily.

"But..." said Arya, feeling slightly frustrated, "that doesn't change that I don't have your power! Those spells you can cast, and disappearing into thin air...I can't do it!"

"Oh really?" asked Angela, finally taking her eyes off the ball of thread she was rapidly transforming into a scarf and meeting Arya's eyes. "Well, that explains how you bought yourself, your dragon, and your friends to Tronjheim then!"

"No!" said Arya. "That was an accident! Don't you understand? I didn't know what I was doing, I can't control it! I can't help you."

Evandar looked grave. After a few moments of silence he said: "Arya? Have you perhaps heard of a certain prophesy?"

"I've heard several." Said Arya, confused.

"He's talking about the one I got Murtagh to tell you." Said Angela, now once again immersed in her knitting.

"What?" asked Arya. "He—he knows about you too? He's working for you?"

"He is one of us." Said Evandar. "Do you remember me telling you that the Forsworn were giants? Well, that makes Murtagh half-giant. But," he continued hastily in response to Arya's look of alarm, "don't worry. He's on our side—you can trust him."

"So," said Arya after a moment, "I suppose he's operating on the same policy of you then? He doesn't use his powers? Not even when we're being attacked by a giant?"

"He wasn't aware of his lineage or our existence until after the war, when I got in touch with him." Said Angela, conjuring up a second ball of thread and beginning to weave it into the original. "He didn't simply leave to find himself, or whatever he told you: he went out to scout the far reaches of the land and discover whether Faolin was operating out there. Not usually a task I'd entrust to a half-mortal who'd just discovered his powers, but he wanted to get away from all you people anyway. And as for his power, he doesn't know how to use it any more than you do. Clearly the inspiration did not strike him when you were fighting that moron."

"Anyway," said Evandar, "the prophesy."

"I think I know the one you're talking about." Said Arya. "'When days are dark and skies are grim.' Murtagh didn't tell it to me, although he knew it. Orik recited it."

"Ah yes." Said Oromis. "Didn't we give it to Korgan in case it happened and we hadn't found them?"

"Yes, I think I do recall telling him." Said Evandar. "Thank the stars for Guntera and his backup plans."

"Where would we be without them?" asked Angela, now halfway into creating a zigzag pattern on her scarf.

"Okay, let's get back on topic." Said Evandar irritably. "The prophesy may have become a little mangled over the years, but I trust Orik informed you about the chosen one? The 'one with half-eternal blood?'"

"One of noble lineage, greater than they know; the one with half eternal blood, across the seas must go." Recited Arya immediately.

Oromis nodded. "Remarkably well remembered by the dwarven scholars." He said. "We should give them more credit."

"Arya..." began Evandar gently. "'The one with half eternal blood' can only refer to one like you: half mortal, and half immortal."

There followed the longest silence yet. Arya couldn't take it in. She was supposed to be the one from this prophesy?

"Firnen?" she asked after a while, knowing she would not need to finish the question.

"I...I do not know, Arya." He replied, seeming as shocked as she was.

The silence was like the china plate most prized by one's mother: nobody dared break it, or even come close. It was a long time before Arya managed to speak.

"You mean...me?"

"You didn't already get that?" spluttered Angela, who immediately received burning looks from her two compatriots.

"Yes, Arya." Said Evandar, as quietly as she had ever heard him speak. "You...you are the only one it could be. You are the one the prophesy refers to. We need you."

These words were followed by a still longer silence. "A single choice they must make, to follow truth or lie...And if they choose the wrong one, our world shall surely die..." Arya played the words over and over in her head, transfixed with horror and (though she would never admit it to herself) copious amounts of fear. The prophesy made it clear that the person it referred to would have the fate of the world resting on their shoulders. How could it be her?

"Arya..." said Firnen, but she did not respond. She doubted she would be able to even hold a mental conversation with all the turmoil in her mind.

They needed her...Was that what she had to do? Help them rescue their king, and along the way, make some sort of choice to follow truth or lie? A choice that would determine whether or not Faolin would win?

She searched desperately for a way out. It couldn't be her. She didn't have their power—she was a half-breed. It had to be someone else...

"Murtagh." She said finally, making them all jump. "You just said that Murtagh is a half-Giant, so his blood is half eternal as well. What if it's him?"

Evandar shook his head slowly and sadly, as if he wished that were the case. Angela continued to knit.

"Ah," said Oromis, sounding exactly as he had done when he had taught her the basics of magic when she was small, "but you are forgetting an earlier line of the prophesy you yourself recited. 'One of noble lineage, Arya.' Murtagh's father Morzan was a Giant, and not a particularly important one at that. He may have power in his blood, but certainly not nobility."

"Of course, being my daughter, you're about as high-born as they come." Said Evandar with a grin, producing a loud snort from Angela.

"Joking aside, your father is correct." Said Oromis. "You and Murtagh are the only two Half-Eternals alive, and of the two of you, you are the only one who fits the criteria of the prophesy. There is no doubt that you are whom it refers to."

Arya was overwhelmed. Her last chance for escape had passed: the burden had fallen onto her shoulders with the weight of the city-mountain beneath them. The faces of the others were grave; even Angela was no longer smiling as she normally did.

"Arya..." said Firnen in a soothing voice, "You have had this responsibility before; the war would not have been won without you. You coped brilliantly then, and you will do just as well now."

"But this is just so much...bigger." said Arya. "There is so much more at stake this time!"

"No." Said Firnen. "Do not begin to think that. Last time you didn't know there was more, and for all you knew everything was at stake. You believed Galbatorix to be the greatest threat in the world, and so this is no different."

"Gods and Giants?" said Arya in an uncharacteristically tired voice. "This is too big for me, Firnen."

Firnen gave her a mental smile. "For you? Of course it is! But for us? No! No challenge is too great for us, my rider. We shall face this one together, and they will learn to fear us."

Arya had the distinct impression that these words were coming more from Firnen's draconic pride than his usual logic, but she saw no reason to argue with the only positive voice in her mind.

After a while, Evandar spoke. "Our journeys would have taken us on the same path anyway." he said. "Our king and your friend are almost certainly imprisoned in the same place. Prophesy or not, you're in this war now."

"What must I do?" asked Arya in a small voice.

"Nothing that you would not be doing anyway." Said Oromis. "Faolin did not lie when he told you that you were the only one who could defeat the Grey Order. You are also the only one who can defeat the giants. You must, somehow, tip the balance."

"But no pressure." Said Angela.

Arya was silent for a long while. It didn't make any sense. How could she tip the balance of this war? She hadn't even known about it for a day!

"How?" she asked in an even smaller voice. "It's not like I have any power you don't; I don't even have a fraction of your strength!"

"It is clearly not your power or strength that will win or lose this war." Said Oromis. "But you will have an important part to play that will, eventually, dictate whether we win or lose. If I am correct, one part of the prophesy has already been fulfilled. 'A single choice they must make; to follow truth or lie.' You chose to follow truth when you rejected Faolin's attempts to bring you to his side. That, I think, was the primary catalyst for the rest of the prophesy. If your choice had been to serve Faolin, then you would not do whatever it is you are supposed to do, and our cause would be doomed to fail."

"But there's no specific line that states I have to do anything else." Said Arya, once again grasping desperately for a loophole. "Only that if I chose the wrong one, the world shall surely die, or something like that."

"Yes." Said Oromis. "At first glance, one might think that the prophesy simply meant that if you went into Faolin's service, he would have used you as a weapon which would destroy us. However, remember the previous line: 'the one with half eternal blood, across the seas must go.' This suggests that there are parts of the prophesy which have not yet been resolved."

"Across the seas must go?" asked Arya. "Do you have any idea where exactly I need to go?"

"Of course not." Said Oromis. "Only time will tell, and it's likely you won't know the prophesy has been resolved, for better or for worse, until after the event. It could mean Vrorengard, New Vrorengard or any of the other islands off the coast of your land; it could be a place that we do not know of yet, or it could be our homeland, Alaela, which I think is most likely."

Arya leaned against the wall of the cave and slowly slid down into a sitting position, feeling once again that her legs were too weak to hold her weight. That day when she had set off from Ellesmera in search of Eragon seemed like a lifetime ago now. Oromis and Evandar and Angela had shown her what her real life was, and everything else in her past seemed far-off and disconnected now. It was all before the prophesy.

"Do not worry about it now." Said Oromis. "These things are out of our control. If you want answers, Guntera will be the only one who has the chance of giving them to you, but we need to find and rescue him first. All that we all know is that we need you on this quest."

"Besides, it's not like you have much of a choice." added Angela. "For one, your little friend Eragon is most likely locked up in the same place as our king is, and you'd have no you'd have no chance of rescuing him without our help. Also, you need training; Faolin's going to be after you now and there's no chance you'll be able to escape him once he starts actually sending capable minions."

Arya didn't particularly like the idea that the giant whom they had just barely escaped and whom she had considered the most powerful being in the world for most of her life was not a 'capable minion.'

"Bring them on!" said Firnen fiercely. "I'm ready for a real challenge!"

Arya shook her head, wondering how many sticky situations Firnen's pride was going to get them into.

"We're in." Said Arya, knowing she was speaking for her dragon too. Firnen let loose a challenging roar, as if daring the Giants to come face them and get it over with.

"Wonderful!" Evandar grinned. "Well, there's no time to waste! Let's assemble the company and be off!"

Angela nodded. "Murtagh should be awake by now; he was in a light doze when I left him. Thorn I'm not so sure about; I'll need you to have a look at him Oromis-I hate to admit it but you know rather a lot more about dragons than I do."

Oromis nodded, and they both vanished in flashes of light.

"Well," said Evandar after a few seconds of studying his daughter with a smile, "we'll need to teach you how to use your power along the way; we don't have the time to train you up before we leave."

"Where do I start?" asked Arya.

Evandar smiled. "It's a very complicated thing to learn, Arya, especially after you're used to using the rather more straightforward magic of the mortal world. You see, your magic, that is to say, the magic of the elves, humans, dwarves and urgals, relies on structured spells: different words for different jobs. Our magic, however, is much more abstract. It works, as you may have begun to understand, on willpower. So far, you have only been able to cast it when you have no other option. You can, however, with training, learn to control it, and not simply be limited to the spur of the moment."

Arya nodded. This idea, at least, was a familiar one: similar to how many young magicians would use their power by accident before discovering that they had the ability.

"There are no specific spells as such which we use to perform our magic. For now, I shall tell you that you simply need to concentrate on your desire for something to happen and how you want it to do so, though there is more to it than that. This is, of course, easier when you have no other option, which is why you have been able to cast it without realizing what you have been doing. It is, however, crucial that you learn how to cast this kind of magic at will, because you cannot fight the Giants with mortal weapons or spells; we cannot be directly affected by these things, as I am sure you have seen."

As soon as he had finished saying this, Angela re-appeared, accompanied by Murtagh, who arrived in a flash of crimson light, stumbled, and fell to the floor.

"Lesson one;" Said Angela, "land on your feet."

"I might have if I hadn't just been almost killed by a bloody Giant!" said Murtagh, angrily getting to his feet.

"Your fault for trying to kill a bloody Giant with that little stick of yours." Said Angela drily.

"Give him a break, Angela." Said Evandar exasperatedly.

"As if!" snorted Angela.

Murtagh seemed to bite back a retort, but decided that it just wasn't worth it. "Fine, I'll try to do better." He said. "Where's Thorn?"

"Oromis is with him." Said Angela. "His wounds were more severe than yours. Don't worry," she added in response to his alarmed expression, "he'll be fine. I'm sure you'd feel it if he died." Murtagh didn't seem very re-assured.

He said nothing for a moment, then, apparently giving up on arguing with the witch, he turned to Arya. "So," he said, "I guess you're in on it now?"

Arya nodded. "Yes." She said. "They told me everything—or at least, I think so."

"Of course we haven't told you everything!" said Angela, surprising even Arya. "Where would be the fun in that? You wouldn't have to listen in on our conversations or anything!"

Arya opened her mouth, then closed it again. It really was difficult to hold a conversation with Angela. Instead, she turned back to Murtagh. "I suppose you're coming on this rescue mission then?"

Murtagh nodded. "I'm coming for the same reason for you—Eragon." He replied simply.

"Do you think he's telling the truth?" Arya asked Firnen.

"Yes, I do." The dragon replied. "He seems trustworthy to me."

"He hasn't exactly been completely honest with us so far though, has he?" replied Arya.

"No doubt the Order forbade him to tell us. Take it up with them."

"No, it's definitely not worth it." Replied Arya, imagining another long-winded and pointless attempt to get information out of Angela—she didn't feel she had the energy at the moment.

There was a flash of light, and Oromis appeared, with Thorn by his side.

Murtagh ran up to them, looking a little frantic. His expression went blank, and Arya knew he was conversing with his dragon.

Oromis gave a faint smile at the two being reunited, then turned to the others. "He's alright." He said. "He's extremely lucky to be that way, though. Galbatorix cast a dark affliction on him, but I managed to break the spell."

Evandar smiled. "Excellent!" he said. "Well, now the company's assembled, we'd best be off! But where to start?"

Arya's face fell. "You mean...You don't know where we need to go?"

Evandar shook his head. "Of course we don't! Did you think Faolin would put his prisoners in a place which we could easily discover? This is not just Galbatorix you're fighting now—you have to remember that, Arya. Faolin operates very differently. He will never let us discover his main base if he can help it, not even if he were to succeed and win the war. If he sends his forces against us, they will likely be disguised as he was, and if we do happen to finally get through all of that and find a possible location which he may be holding the king at, it will most likely be a trap. You must keep your wits about you."

Arya nodded slowly. "Very well, but where do we go? I don't think we can afford to delay."

"To the place Eragon was kidnapped, of course!" said Angela exasperatedly, as if Arya was being a little slow.

"Why?" asked Arya, confused.

Angela sighed. "Haven't we already established that Eragon and Guntera are in the same place? That means that New Vrorengard is the best place for us to find clues as to where they were taken."

"I had a search party sent over there." Said Arya, remembering the conversation with Dathedr she had completely forgotten in the midst of all the things she'd gone through. "Maybe they can help; they may have found some things out already."

"I forgot about them too." Said Firnen. "Come to think of it, shouldn't we have heard something from them by now?"

Arya frowned. New Vrorengard was a fair way from the mouth of the river Edda, but she would indeed have expected an elven ship to have arrived there by now.

"We should go to Ellesmera first." Said Firnen, speaking to all of them now.

Evandar frowned. "Why?"

"Because I haven't heard anything from or about those elves I sent yet." Said Arya, immediately understanding her dragon's reasoning. "I almost forgot about them with everything that's been happening, but now I come to think of it I should have heard something by now, especially considering it's such an urgent matter."

"We need to find out whether the two-legs in Ellesmera have simply forgotten to pass on the message, or if they haven't heard anything either." Finished Firnen, sending a mental smile in Arya's direction. Arya knew why: she too was pleased that they were speaking in turn; Oromis had told her that it signified a strong bond between dragon and rider that not all pairs possessed.

"Even if it's the former, it seems a little odd." Said Arya to Firnen. "I would have expected Dathedr to have contacted me by now anyway, if only to inform me that they've heard nothing from the search party."

"I agree." Said Firnen. "It doesn't seem right. We should be cautious."

Angela nodded. "Admittedly, that's a good idea." She said. "But only the two of us and will be able to go—considering Oromis and Evandar are supposed to be dead and nobody likes Murtagh and Thorn."

It was a mark of the seriousness of the moment that Murtagh didn't even crack a smile or offer a single retort.

Evandar shook his head. "If I know Faolin, he'll already have patrols out and about—he'll be furious that we got away and determined to find us. It's not safe to split up."

"Fine, but you're going to be the one explaining to the elves why you're not dead." Said Angela drily.

"We'll come with you to Ellesmera and lay low then." said Evandar. "If you run into trouble, contact us and we'll come."

"I think it's safe to say we're already in rather a lot of trouble." Replied Angela drily. "But I think I take your meaning. Before we leave though, we're going to have to come up with something to tell our dwarven friends."

For once, Arya was ahead of Angela on that one. "I've already thought of that." She said, savouring the rare moment. "We just tell Orik that we came up against some of the members of Az Sweldn Rak Anhuin; they're the group of dwarves we thought had kidnapped Eragon. We-"

"Tell them that there was a fight and they were killed, but before they died we got some information from them which means we need to go to Ellesmera." Finished Murtagh with a wide grin. "Very nice for someone who learned to speak in a language which doesn't allow lying."

"On the contrary." Replied Arya grimly. "We elves are better liars than most. If there's nothing else you think I ought to know, Firnen and I shall go now."

"I'll come with you." Said Angela. "It's a bad idea for us to make any excursions by ourselves right now, especially considering you can't even fight. And Murtagh, before you sign up as well, I wouldn't bother. Any negotiations with dwarves are not going to proceed well if you're involved." Murtagh didn't look that offended, and simply shrugged.

"I don't want to risk teleporting into a city full of dwarves." Said Angela. "Guntera would have my hide. Firnen, care to take us down?"

"Of course." He said.

Firnen crouched to his knees and Arya climbed on his back with the witch behind her. "See you soon!" said Arya, and they were off. "Or not!" yelled Angela, as Firnen's tail left the mouth of the cave.

As soon as they were out, the first thing Arya noticed was the freezing, bitter cold. The second thing she noticed was that they were not, as it happened, flying.

Rather, they were dropping like an over-large emerald stone, with the wind having just enough time to sting their faces before it passed them by. Firnen's wings flapped frantically but it was absolutely no use.

"I can't stop it!" yelled Firnen frantically. "It feels like there's nothing underneath my wings!"

"Oh!" butted in Angela conversationally. "Did I forget to mention that the air is too thin up here for you to fly?"

"YES!" roared Firnen.

"Oh, my bad." Said Angela.

"Can't you do something?" asked Arya frantically.

"Of course." Said Angela.

"THEN DO IT!"

"Well, you see, that's all very well and good, but if I did, it would take us an age to get down there."

"Well, this way we're going to be in about a million pieces when we do!" yelled Firnen angrily, letting out a roar that nobody could hear.

"Quite right." Said Angela. "Which is why I strongly advise you dive now and level out as soon as we get to some manageable altitudes."

"Are you crazy?" yelled Arya.

"Yes." She said.

Not presented with any other options, Firnen struggled into a nose down position and folded his wings. The ground was coming up to meet them alarmingly quickly now; they could no longer see the entirety of the surface and the city seemed to be on a growth spurt.

Arya thought she was about to pass out. She shut her eyes and pressed herself against Firnen's neck, but she could feel the blood rushing to her head and the air was moving so fast she could barely pull any into her lungs.

"Try now." Said Angela, as if they were conducting a mildly interesting experiment. "Wings open, level out slowly, there's a good chap!"

Firnen's wings burst open as he pulled out of the dive. Arya' opened her eyes and screamed: they were at most a few hundred feet off the ground and still dropping.

"Perfect!" said Angela.

They were now racing towards the city-mountain at breakneck speed, and still dropping so that they were now well below its peak.

"We may need to kill a little speed!" said Angela. Immediately Firnen pulled back and flapped his wings as hard as he could with several powerful beats.

"A bit more!" said Angela. "Hold on!"

There was a tremendous bang and Arya was thrown forwards as they almost came to a complete stop in mid-air. A few seconds later Arya felt a great jolt. It took her a few seconds to realize that they had landed, and right in front of the city-mountain's gates.

"Wonderful!" said Angela brightly.

It took Arya several seconds to recover from the shock of their hard landing, after which she shakily dismounted.

"Are you okay?" she asked her dragon.

"Naturally." He said, making a valiant attempt to hide from her how much the landing had shaken him. "All in a day's work."

"Right!" said Angela, dismounting and walking up to her. "Let's go see Orik then!"

The guards at the gates quickly admitted them, and they enjoyed a blissfully uneventful walk up to the palace, during which they went over the finer points of what they were going to say to Orik. Soon enough they stood before the dwarf on his throne.

"Leave us." He told his guards, and they swiftly departed the throne room.

"What news?" he asked, and Arya thanked the now apparently existent Guntera that he could not speak in the ancient language. "I've heard reports of an explosion in a remote part of the city. Did that have anything to do with you?"

Arya nodded. "We've been paid a visit." She said grimly. "By our friends in Az Sweldn Rak Anhuin."

"What?" roared Orik, standing up in alarm.

"Oh, don't worry." Said Angela brightly. "They're now residing in Morgothal's halls."

"Such knurla have no place in the halls of Morthothal." Growled Orik. "They will be in the dungeons of Angvard."

"Actually, I'm quite sure that's where they came from." Said Angela. "But never mind. We would have captured them so you could conduct some questioning, but I'm afraid they were mortally wounded in the fight. We did however manage to glean some nice, juicy secrets from their minds before they bit the dust though."

"Out with it, then!" said Orik excitedly.

"You could have said 'please,' but alright." Said Angela. "We have discovered, or else have been tricked into believing, that your rouge clan are operating out of Du Weldenvarden."

"What?" said Orik, incredulous. "Those scum are in your lands, Arya? How is it that they have been able to get in?"

"I suspect the same way they made their way into your city carrying enchanted weapons." Replied Arya coolly.

Orik scowled. "Very well." He said. "Let us be off then."

"Oh, I'm afraid we won't have the pleasure of your company on this trip." Said Angela.

"What?" said Orik. "Why?"

"Well, if you really can't work it out, Az Sweldn Rak Anhuin are dwarves." Said Angela. "Considering the way they managed to reach us with your city hopefully on high alert without encountering any complications, we can safely bet that they have infiltrated your ranks. Anyone could be with them for all we know, so we need someone we can trust to stay here."

Orik frowned. "You are right, but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth to be abandoning a quest before its completion. I said I would help you rescue mine brother, and I intended to do so."

"No doubt the situation will change soon." Said Arya, feeling a little sorry for the dwarf. "We cannot predict what will happen next, but your part in this is certainly not over. We will keep you updated as much as possible. For the mean time, be watchful and stay safe. We're counting on you, Orik."

Orik sighed, looking a little heartened by the idea that he had an important role to play. "Very well." He said. "Safe journey to you, then, and good luck."

With that, they exited the throne room and returned to Firnen, who was waiting outside the city gates.

"I fear I will not be able to get us back up there." Said Firnen resignedly, and Arya knew it pained him to admit there was a place he could not fly to.

"Of course you won't." Replied Angela. "Just fly up high enough so that our friends down here won't be looking and then I'll take us back to the cave the fast way."

In reply he crouched to his knees, allowing them to mount, and kicked off the ground, circling slowly higher above the city.

"That should do it." Said Angela, when they were at the point where the people of the city below could no longer be seen. "Arya, hold on tight!" Arya braced herself, clutching onto the neck spike in front of her with all her might. A second later, they were consumed by a blinding flash of light and sent hurtling forwards into nothingness. An instant later Firnen's feet hit the floor of the cave.

"How did it go?" asked Evandar as they dismounted.

"He bought it." Said Arya.

"Excellent!" he replied. "The fellowship of the king is assembled! To Ellesmera, then! Hands in, everyone."

Oromis, Angela and Murtagh stood in a circle with their arms outstretched so their hands met in the middle, and Arya mimicked them. Thorn walked up to them on unsteady legs and craned his neck so that his massive snout joined their hands and Firnen did the same. Arya sighed. She'd really had enough of this mode of travel for one day. There was a blinding flash of light, and they were off.