Brisingr, page 708
(And again, sorry about the delay!)
Arya slipped away from Eragon into the darkness, toward the gate-tower doors. On the Rider's other side, Blodhgarm mirrored her movement and crept towards the other tower, his feet making no noise on the stones lining the street.
Arya reached the low wooden door without being spotted, and held her breath as she pushed it open. Blodhgarm had vanished in the darkness on the other side of the group of soldiers, but none of them seemed to have noticed him either.
As Arya slipped as silently as she could through the doorway, she heard Eragon's voice echoing around the square.
What's he doing? She wondered as she climbed, sword held in front of her warily. Odd words drifted to her inside the dark staircase.
"Swear… Lady Lorana… Murtagh… Driven him off… What… Dragon Rider…"
He's trying to convince them to surrender! She realised with a jolt. Why, though? It wouldn't have occurred to her, she admitted as she crept closer to the room that held the gears for opening the gates. She would have gone in swinging her sword and thought afterwards.
And yet… she hadn't always been like that. Was that how seventy years among humans had changed her? And if so, why was Eragon different? She had no excuse; she had grown up among elves whose value for life was higher than any other sentient being in Alagaesia. Hadn't that meant anything to her?
Arya shook her head. This was no place for such ramblings; she had a job to do. She turned another corner of stair and saw light spilling into the staircase. She lifted her slender sword and took a deep breath, bursting into the guard-room.
