At sundown, the dusty street that ran next to the fortress of Gi'lead was gloomy, empty and, aside from three shimmery patches, perfectly normal.

I'm entering Eragon's cell, Harry severed the bars on the low window and slipped inside without difficulty. The cell was annoyingly stuffy, and no doubt designed this way to psychologically weaken the prisoner. "They should be returning Arya to her cell any moment now," said Eragon as Harry examined the water jug with distaste. Indeed, footsteps were already echoing down the wide stone corridor. Harry and Eragon dashed to the window on the door, just as two burly, steely men came into view. They stared forward with unmoving faces, and dragged the elf between them.

"Hey! You big, loafing brutes!" Further down, Brom was yelling in a ringing voice. The men hardly paused, but squared their shoulders menacingly. Harry could no longer see their faces, but he was sure that their angry glares would make children howl. Brom shamelessly continued. "What'cha good for, anyways? Ugly brick-heads…" This time the soldiers stopped, dropping Arya to the ground. "You say that again –"

"Jierda," Black orbs of energy struck the soldiers in the back, who fell without a groan. A gentle push on the lock's mechanism unlocked the door so that it swung open without resistance. Eragon dashed to the elf's side. "She's still alive!"

"The King couldn't let her die just yet, or else she wouldn't be imprisoned in the first place. I expect they'd been careful not to damage any internal organs. Maybe they'd even healed her each night," Harry was kneeling by the soldiers. They were both dead, and judging from their expressions, killed fairly quickly. He'd never used an Ancient Language spell on a person before. Perhaps a little less power next time would suffice?

"It would make our work easier," Brom said, having freed himself from his cell, "healing's never been my greatest strength."

Harry carefully levitated her into Eragon's cell and through the window, where an invisible Murtagh and Saphira waited. Once she was safely in their custody, he casted the necessary charms to hide her from sight and paused for a split second.

"Everything alright?" Eragon asked with concern.

Harry nodded. He thought he'd heard quiet footsteps, but there was no time to waste either way. "Brom, you're next," Brom raised his arms over his head cooperatively as Harry floated him out of the window. A quick charm later, Brom had disappeared from view as well. They were almost home free! "It's lucky that the Shade hadn't caught us," Eragon smiled nervously.

He was cut off when the door swung open again to reveal a haughty man with a sharp-toothed smile and a voice like ice water. "Hadn't I?"

Hellfire… Harry silently shifted. Behind Eragon's back, he pressed the hilt of his own sword into the boy's palm and removed its disillusionment charm. "He will get to you before I can levitate you out," he whispered.

"I'll defend myself and try to injure him," Eragon discreetly whispered back, trying hard not to move his lips.

"I think you'll have to. But more importantly, try not to stand between Durza and the window."

Durza strode toward them leisurely, maroon eyes glinting with contempt. "Did you really think you can escape me? Du Sundavar Freohr? What a pitiful name. I would've expected something more subtle from you, but I suppose it's the best you're capable of."

Eragon said nothing, but quickly whipped out the sword in hope of catching the Shade off guard. Unfortunately, the surprise was hardly enough to prevent Durza from parrying the strike as if he was playing with a child. "So your friend brought you a weapon," Durza laughed as Eragon hastily dodged, so that the tip of the long sword missed his shoulder by a hair's width, "Did your friend unblock the window for you too, or were you actually able to accomplish something for yourself?"

His gaze had lingered on the window a tad too long. Protego! "Jierda!" Time seemed to freeze as Harry and Durza raised their hand simultaneously. A jet of light collided with a shimmering golden shield. At first it seemed to hold, but barely a fraction of a second later it had shattered. Harry watched helplessly as the light went on to strike the faint, shimmering form outside the window. An invisible arrow whizzed past Durza's forehead and through the open door. "An interesting friend too, no doubt, but I'm afraid he is sadly departed."

Harry carefully shifted again, silently berating himself for forgetting to test the strength of the shield charm. He wanted to check on Murtagh, but now was not the time. He would need to help Eragon first. Peering through the cell's door, he eyed the bodies of the two soldiers and mapped out a trajectory in his mind. Accio sword.

One of the soldiers' swords flew out of its sheath and zoomed straight into the cell. Durza had just disarmed Eragon with a flick of his wrist when it lodged itself solidly into the back of his neck. Harry pulled the sword to him by magic as Durza screamed with agony, translucent skin turning gray. Dark mist formed around the tall man's writhing form. Eventually it dissipated, leaving a pile of clothes and the long sword in its place.

Eragon and Harry dashed to the window. "How's Murtagh?"

"He's unconscious," came Brom's voice, "but otherwise uninjured I think." Harry stuck his hand out of the window. Rennervate. "He should be fine now," Harry said as Murtagh jolted upright, spluttering with surprise.

Eragon breathed with relief. "I can't believe you actually managed to kill a Shade!"

Harry picked up Durza's sword and quickly examined it. It was magically fortified, as he'd expected, which meant that he couldn't vanish it as he could a normal weapon. "Not quite, unfortunately. You can only kill a Shade by stabbing him in the heart," The heart was the sanctuary of the spirit, after all. The mind was only a gatehouse. But Harry couldn't topple that sanctuary just yet, for then Durza's spirits would have nothing to lose. Neither he nor Eragon could afford to become the subject of their final revenge.

"He will come back," Brom confirmed, "and he'll be more powerful than before."

Clambering footsteps rumbled above them. Soldiers were moving. Calm as ever, Harry levitated Eragon through the window. Suddenly remembering, he summoned Za'roc and passed that to his friends as well. "Great," Brom urged, "now get out of there!"

Harry took a contemplating glance at the two bodies slumped unceremoniously in the hallway. It was an awkward way to be left dead. "Just a moment,"

Minutes later, soldiers would pile outside the empty cell, peering through the ancient doorway with curiosity and amazement. Beneath the open window lay two of their comrades. Their hair had been smoothed, and arranged neatly to frame their peaceful faces. Their hands, which held their sword and sprig of dried hemlock, were folded over their chests solemnly. On the wall at their heads, written in water, were the fading words, "Here our brothers fall, but here our future rises."

They would remove the arrangement at first sight, and pretend that they had not seen it at all. But the words would linger, and stories would spread.

"The Rider has escaped, m…my liege," the captain stammered, trying unsuccessfully to make his daily report in a way that didn't guarantee wrath.

"Useless fools!" Galbatorix exploded as his trusted commander shrank away from the scrying bowl. "How is it that half of my army can be evaded by a mere boy?"

"Guards ran to his cell immediately after someone screamed, your highness! But the cell was already empty, and the bars on the window were taken off clean! Riders are p…powerful, and he must've had help from the outside. There are even rumours that he'd killed two guards –"

"Rumours? You mean to tell me you were too lazy to check the cell yourself?"

"N…no! I went! I definitely went! Though I might've been a bit slow…"

Galbatorix interrupted him with an annoyed wave. "Where is Durza?"

"He's gone, my lord. We found his clothes and sword in a corner of the cell."

Galbatorix nodded in thought. As far as he could see, the Shade could not benefit from intentionally "losing" the boy. It was more likely that he had been too focused on gloating, and played a little too much. But no matter. Though the boy had hidden away again, and had most likely become wary of his intrusion as well, a boy was only a boy. And Galbatorix had plenty of cards to play. "Fine. Is there anything else?"

The captain, who had just let out a sigh of relief, paled. "Y…yes, my lord… The elf is gone."

"What?"

Meanwhile, the company of (give or take) four humans, three horses, two dragons and an elf landed on a small cliff, a safe distance from Gi'lead. Even if an army were to give chase in the right direction and at top speed, it would not reach the spot until the next day.

"I didn't think you would care so much for the dead," Brom commented, especially after what happened last time…

"I don't, but funerals are for the benefit of the living. I was merely trying to leave a good impression," Harry replied, kneeling by Arya's side. She was barely conscious. At one point she'd opened her emerald eyes, fixing him and Eragon with a gaze that could only be described as regal, but after a few seconds her eyelids tiredly fluttered close. Harry knew better than to wake her with magic. It would hardly help her situation. "How would you heal an elf?"

"Usually healers would locate the wound and direct their magic to that spot, but since we don't know enough we can only hope that there are no internal injuries. Of course, it's also possible to flood her entire body with magic and command it to heal, but the power that would take… Even Riders might run the risk of being drained and dying."

Harry nodded. "Luckily we have these," he said, pulling out a bottle of the healing draught he'd made in Angela's shop from his potion chest. He opened the seal and, despite Arya's weak resistance, carefully poured its content down her throat. "In principle it should work as well for elves as it would for humans. The first dose should be effective within the hour."

Beside him, Eragon was watching Arya's face with an entranced expression. Harry silently made note of this. Eragon would no doubt find Arya very beautiful, and after what Angela had said, he wouldn't be surprised if Eragon was really in love with her. It was a happy development, but it would inevitably make matters much more complicated. Three things are constant among all worlds, he thought with a sigh, magic, souls, and love. Or maybe it's all one thing after all?

Eragon offered to take the first watch. Murtagh and Harry were more than grateful to get rest, and each settled down on a clean piece of earth at first opportunity. Brom, however, stayed by Eragon's side. "I know you've eavesdropped on me in Teirm," he said after a while.

"I had a right to know if what you talked about concerned me or Saphira!" Eragon retorted defensively, though he kept his volume down so as not to wake their sleeping friends.

Brom merely shrugged at this. "I suppose if you weren't so suspicious you wouldn't be worth my time. It's time I provide a decent answer to your questions. You wanted to know what Tronjheim is?"

"It's associated with the Vardens, isn't it? And how are you involved?"

"Quite right. Tronjheim is where the dwarves retreated to after Galbatorix came into power, but its doors have since been opened to human refugees as well. The Vardens have many strongholds, but Tronjheim is by far their greatest sanctuary. Can you see why Tronjheim was a favourable location?"

Eragon thought. "Was it well protected?"

"Yes, but more importantly, it was a potential incubator for good relationships between races. This was the reason I gave when I suggested Tronjheim to the first of the Vardens."

"You chose the Varden headquarter!"

Brom nodded. "Yes. I had to contribute some wisdom, as one of its founders."

Eragon took some time to mull this over. "But if you were so important, why become a story teller? Why settle down in Carvahall?"

"After the Vardens got hold of Saphira's egg, they asked me to train the new Rider when she hatches," Brom decided on the half-lie, "I was supposed to hide until I was summoned. Maybe that's why the egg appeared near Carvahall. The courier might've thought that I could keep it safe."

Eragon didn't interrupt, so he continued. "The Vardens would've wanted me to take you to Tronjheim as soon as I found you, but I was worried. Their politics is dangerous in its own way, Eragon. They might send you on missions you're not ready for just to make a statement. I wanted to prepare you first, in our travels, before introducing you to Dormnad, my designated contact in Gi'lead."

"But we're in Gi'lead now," Eragon realized.

"True," Brom agreed, "and I suppose you'll be demanding that we go to him first thing in the morning."

To his surprise, Eragon hesitated. "I'm not sure," he eventually admitted, "I want to help, but I don't want to spend my entire life fighting as the Vardens do."

"You don't have to decide now. I can always take you to Tronjheim myself, though they might not remember me after I've disappeared for so long. I have a feeling that they would be friendlier if Dormnad was with us… But nevermind. We risk our lives by entering Gi'lead without Harry's help, and I doubt he and Murtagh would be keen on going to the Vardens in the first place."

"I see…" And they both contemplated the unspoken question.

How long before we'll have to part?

Erm... sorry for the very late update. I've been kind of busy lately