Hal leaned against a tree for support, her mind spinning as she tried to contemplate what Murtagh had just spent the better part of an hour trying to explain to her. "Okay, so Eragon — the Dragon Rider who led the Varden to victory against Galbatorix —"

His eye twitched. "Unimportant."

"— has had visions of a little girl, approximately ten-years-old, who's in some kind of danger?"

"Apparently."

"And you think it's connected to whatever creature is on the island…?"

"Possibly. I don't bloody know. Eragon says his visions haven't been clear as to the danger. But the timing is too much of a coincidence to be easily dismissed."

Hal rubbed her temples, trying to process all of this new information.

"Halen, is there any girl you know of in your village that matches that description?"

She shook her head. "No, none that immediately come to mind. Only a handful of the children fit that age group but none that are as you have described." Tall and lanky with choppy, curly hair, round cheeks, and brown eyes — every child matching part of the description lacked the other. And that was just with the children of her village. There were two other villages Hal knew of — one she was close with that she could visit without arousing suspicion. But it would be impossible to give a confident answer. "Are you sure you have the right place? There are other islands."

"Eragon insists it's Illium."

"Maybe he's wrong."

"That's what I said."

"And what did he say?"

"That he wasn't."

Hal snorted. "Oh, well in that case…"

"…I know this is a lot to just dump on you," Murtagh said with a grimace.

"I'm glad you did," she admitted. "If there's something bigger at play here, I want to know about it. Especially if it puts my island and my people at risk. I want to help, if I can."

Murtagh nodded. They both agreed that he and Thorn would fly ahead and keep an eye on things while Hal traveled on the ground. Hal had to admit, as the wind whipped past her and Nani, she felt oddly safe with Murtagh and Thorn so close. It was an unexpected partnership, she knew. But she was more surprised by how unsurprised she was. It felt right and, considering the circumstances, who was she to object to the power of a dragon and his rider when it was offered so freely to help?

They traveled at a good pace, Nani strong enough to surpass several miles with ease. Occasionally Hal would stop to check the markings the group may have left behind, making sure they were still headed in the right direction. But otherwise, she did not slow her pace for anything.

Halen.

Caught completely off guard, Hal yanked harder on Nani's reins than she intended, and the horse slid to a stop, whining at the pressure and ignoring Hal's panicked state. She turned every which way in her saddle, unsure if she had truly heard her name or not. But it had echoed so loudly in her head, which is honestly what frightened her the most.

Nani trotted nervously in a circle as the voice entered her head again. Halen, is everything all right?

There was something genuinely frightening about her a voice not her own in her head. Was it some sort of attack? Should she flee? Dare she fight?

Halen, relax, it's me. It's Murtagh.

She froze, blinking back the tears of fear as confusion and disbelief swept over her. "Murtagh? But how?"

She could hear him chuckle, and she whipped around as if expecting to see him standing right beside her.

"I don't understand…" she breathed, her voice tight.

That is my fault. I should have warned you. This is how I am used to communicating because of Thorn.

"And you think this is funny?"

It's a little funny.

"Then land and I'll show you just how amused I really am."

A tense pause. Then:

There's a clearing up ahead. Thorn and I will meet you there.

His voice had lost its entertained edge, and Hal could feel her expression hardening in anger as she urged Nani forward, following the rider's instructions until they reached the spacious clearing. Thorn was already grounded, Murtagh standing with his arms crossed and a bashful expression on his face that did nothing to soften the blow of Hal's fury as she dismounted Nani.

She stalked towards him, covering the distance quickly. And when she reached him, she threw out both hands and shoved him as hard as she could manage. "Have you lost your damn mind, Dragon Rider? Because I know you are not nearly as stupid as to think I would ever be comfortable or amused by the fact that a complete stranger just spoke to me in my own damn head."

He held up his hands as if in surrender, but did not strike back in any way. His cheeks were red with embarrassment, his expression sincere in its humility. "You're right. I overstepped. I wasn't thinking, and I'm sorry."

"You damn well better be. You scared the shit out of me. I could barely stand you reading my book and you just appeared inside my mind like I was an open door. How would you feel if someone did that to you? Just waltzed inside your mind and started talking to you as if they owned it?"

Something in his face twisted, and his gaze dropped in shame. But Hal saw something else she did not expect.

Fear.

It was in the way his entire body tightened, as if bracing for a blow or hit that would never come. His gaze became distant, as if he was remembering a painful part of his past. Hal stared, almost afraid herself of the wild look in his eyes. The panic. She knew that look. She knew that fear. And her anger almost immediately abated in surprise and, she had to admit, a bit of concern.

"Murtagh?" she whispered as they stood there in silence.

He looked at her, as if having forgotten she was even there. There was such a look of hurt in his grey eyes that it was Hal's turn to look away, almost feeling guilty for snapping at him. It frightened her to think it, but she had a sinking suspicion that he knew exactly how it felt to have an unwanted presence in his mind.

"It won't happen again," he said quickly, his voice emotionless as he turned on his heel and began to climb onto Thorn. "We should keep moving, we only have an hour or so of daylight left."

Hal was more than happy to oblige, wanting to keep moving and give her and the rider some space. Just like that, it was beginning to sink in the depths of what she had agreed to. She had been so immediately relieved at the thought of not facing whatever had taken her friends on her own that she hadn't stopped to remind herself that Murtagh Morzansson was a dangerous, enigmatic man. And it was one thing to be alone with him in a room while still in the village. But alone in a forest, miles away from any village or any person?

Hal knew she was taking a great leap of faith with this man and his dragon. It made her nervous, yet it did not frighten her. And she did not know if she was very foolish or very dumb. But the thought of bringing her friends back home rang stronger than any desire to turn back now for her own selfish comforts. And regardless of his past, Hal implicitly knew Murtagh would not harm her unless she herself became a threat to him and Thorn, which was impossible. Just like always, Hal trusted her gut above all else. And her gut told her to stay with Murtagh and Thorn for now.

And her instincts had yet to lead her astray.

…

Hal could not shake the look in the rider's eyes for the rest of her ride. She knew that kind of fear intimately, and she was curious as to what had caused such a reaction in him while also terrified of it as well. And the more she thought of it, the guiltier she felt for how she had snapped at him. For how her words had drudged up this painful part of his past. She had been so scared and unaware…and it didn't help that Thorn flew slower and lower, enough so that Hal always saw him as she rode — and she was sure it was so that he and Murtagh could see her. And she wondered if Murtagh's reason for reaching out had been to assure himself that she was doing okay and didn't need anything. There was truly no other way for them to communicate unless Hal stopped to make a fire and sent up a smoke signal. And the fact that, despite the sudden invasion, his actions could have been due to his concern for her wellbeing made her feel even worse.

By the time they stopped for the night — Hal finding a decent enough gap between the trees where Thorn could fit and an alcove of fallen trees that had grown out of the earth for her, Nani, and Murtagh — the silence felt even worse and more tense. Hal softly volunteered to go fetch the food if Murtagh would get a fire going.

Hal had little inclination to walk too far on her own to hunt, so she pulled off her boots, rolled up the hem of her pants and waded into the river. Fish weren't always the top of her list because she hated the thin bones; but, admittedly she didn't want to worry about catching, skinning, and cooking a mammal either. So, fish it was.

Her father had been a fisherman, and a proud one at that. Everything she knew about it, she had eagerly learned from him. Even now, years after his death, fishing made her feel close to him again. Recalling how he had taught her, first, with a rod and hook, then with a net, then a spear, and then —

Hal closed her eyes, feeling the currents move around her ankles. She breathed, opening her eyes and straining to see in the growing darkness. But she had just enough light to make out the small school darting around her feet, moving with the currents.

She lunged without thinking, clearing her mind of all thought like her father taught her. She grabbed the first fish by the tail, where it was less slick than the body itself. She did not pull straight up — where it could slip out of her hands — but instead moved and tossed it directly to the shore where it flopped needlessly at the sudden lack of water. She continued to move quickly, not wanting another predator to snap up her hard-earned meal because they were too lazy to do it themselves.

By the time she made it back to the camp, Murtagh was sitting on the ground, close to the fire with a contemplative and distant expression. When she approached, he looked up then away quickly, as if thinking she might snap at him again.

Nervous and unsure of what to say, Hal sat down across from him and pulled her food knife from her bag, setting to work prepping the fish as the fire grew hotter. Every so often, she would glance up at the rider to find him staring at Thorn or into the forest. His expression seemed to grow sadder with each passing moment, although his posture became less stiff by the time she was roasting the fish over the fire.

When she was settling back down in her spot while they waited for dinner to cook, she looked at him once more to find his gaze already on her. He no longer seemed caught up in whatever trappings of the past had ensnared him for the last hour or so, but Hal still felt embarrassed at the kind smile on his face while having been caught staring.

"You have a lot of questions," he stated plainly, almost sounding amused at the idea.

"What makes you say that?"

"I would expect nothing less from the woman who tracks wildlife and studies it for months and years on end to understand it better. Someone with that kind of curiosity is only curious by knowing what questions to ask and then asking them."

The way he phrased it felt almost like an invitation, and it took Hal several long moments to understand. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes. I do. Please: ask me anything."

"It is dangerous to give someone so curious such free reign."

"As long as you do not let such opportunity corrupt you, I think I'll be fine. Unless, of course, you plan on manhandling me in a fight again to get the answers you seek."

She smiled as his humor, surprised to find it so refreshing to hear coming from him. It only added to her list of questions — and she had so many that it was hard to pick just one. She bit her lip, thinking carefully. She didn't want to pry him open and force him to bear his soul to her. She might not like what she would find. Not to mention it would be uncomfortable for them both. But she knew this was a rare opportunity, to ask him anything that she may never get to know or understand about him.

He was surprisingly patient while she thought through her options. When she finally settled on a question, she felt nervous. Unsure if he truly meant he would answer any question, or if there were stipulations he had not thought of, that would come up when he heard her question.

She licked her lips slowly. "Why did you agree to come out here? To Illium, I mean — and search for a girl your former enemy suggested may or may not have been in danger?"

She saw his lip twitch, as if he had expected nothing less from her. Not too heavy, like why did he serve Galbatorix yet still expressed such remorse. But nothing so easy, like what was life on the mainland like. She found herself wanting to understand the man hidden under the mask — or rather, the beard.

Murtagh took a slow breath, choosing his words carefully. "I admit that, on the surface, it was because Eragon wore me down with his requests. It was a constant barrage from him asking for my help and, sooner rather than later, I just desperately wanted him to shut up."

Hal stared. Then she could not help but chuckle. Murtagh noticed and grinned as well.

"But it was actually Thorn who convinced me to agree," he continued, and both he and Hal looked over at the dragon who let out a low rumble somewhere from the back of his throat. "We were miserable in the northern cold and…he thought it was time we did something different for a change. Something good."

There was a small silence following his answer as Hal turned the words over in her mind. There was nothing to indicate he was lying. By all intents and purposes, she should think him nothing more than a liar. Yet her gut, once again, told her he was telling her the truth.

"And you?"

He looked over at her, her gaze steady as she waited to hear his response. His expression became more neutral, unreadable. Finally, after a long pause, he spoke again. "I think that constitutes as your one question for the night. We should get some rest. Thorn and I will take first watch."

Hal studied him carefully, looking for a break in the armor. When none came, she slowly nodded her head. "Fine, if you insist. Just make sure to keep an eye out for the snakes."

There was a nervous pause. "What snakes?"

Hal laughed as she rolled over.

…

Do you think she's really asleep? Murtagh asked.

It would seem so. But just in case, think quietly so she can't hear us.

Murtagh shot Thorn a dark look but the dragon just let out a deep wheeze meant to be a laugh. The ground shook slightly underneath them, and Halen let out a low moan, frowning as she turned over in her sleep, facing towards Murtagh. Her expression relaxed and Murtagh breathed easier once he knew she wouldn't wake.

Maybe it was a mistake to join her, he continued to Thorn.

You made a mistake, young one. And she was angry, yes, and rightfully so. But I do not think she thought you meant her ill will. I think it just unnerved her, is all. And now we know not to do it again, at least not without permission.

I was only trying to make sure she was all right. I am not used to having to worry about someone besides you or myself.

Thorn seemed to perk up. You're worried about her?

Murtagh rolled his eyes. You make it out to sound more noble than it actually is. She may claim not to have a family of her own, but I saw how Denu was around her. I have enough blood on my hands. I will not have hers; not after she has saved my life.

There are many who would say that is noble, Thorn countered.

No, it is simply the right thing to do.

Thorn was quiet a moment. Like he had been able to do with Halen, Murtagh could sense the dragon's question that had less to do with their mental connection and more with the tension behind the silence. Yes Thorn, what is it?

Why did you not answer the woman's question? About whether or not you thought it time we did something good.

Because I could not give her the answer she wanted to hear. Nor can I give you the answer you want to hear. And I will not lie to either of you.

And what answer do you think we are both too weak-minded to hear?

Murtagh glanced over at the dragon, his shoulders stiff. He knew Thorn would never judge him. Never leave him. Yet shame still prickled at his skin.

You want to do the right thing, Murtagh began slowly, and I admire that. I truly do. But what is the point in putting ourselves in danger? I'll not risk you, Thorn, not for Eragon or anyone else.

Nor I you, but we cannot avoid helping those who need it simply because there is no glory in it.

You misunderstand me. It's not glory I seek. Just peace of mind and a life that we may call our own. It is still not too late for us to head east, you know.

And what? We let Halen know that we wish her well and hope her friends are not dead or worse? We leave the child to suffer a fate unknown and go about our lives pretending the weight of our decisions won't contribute to the ongoing turmoil in your mind?

Thorn —

Don't you dare act as though I am wrong for mentioning it. Ever since Galbatorix died — nay, even before then — you have not been well. You are mentally hard on yourself, wearing yourself down with a constant barrage of self-hate and loathing that breaks my heart. And I know that if we leave now, it will only break you further. Now I do not wish to force you to do anything you don't want, but I believe this will be good for you, and I will tie you to my back and force you to help if I must.

Murtagh struggled to smile, but his throat felt impossibly tight, his eyes burning at the compassion and love he felt from Thorn across their bond and in his words. Overcome with emotion, Murtagh struggled to form a coherent thought.

What if I fail? What if I can't help them? Eragon was strong enough to deal with the weight of an entire rebellion depending on him and I can barely handle the expectations of one woman.

You have already defied the expectations of others. Do not forget that if you had not undone Galbatorix's wards and shields, Eragon would not have been able to defeat him in the first place.

You forgot the part where I subjected myself and you to his tyranny, tortured Nasuada, and cemented our legacy as traitors to the nation.

You are just as much victim as you are villain of that story.

I am not a victim!

Fine, then stop acting like one! Act. The woman told you to take your anger and grief and fuel it into doing something good. I felt how those words stirred something in you for perhaps the first time in years. This is our chance to do something right. I want to do the right thing, young one. And I know you do too. And if, that's if, you fail, then so have I. For your failures, your successes, your loss, and your joys, are also mine. You and I are in this together, remember that. You are not here alone. And I sense that Halen will help anyway she can as well. So long as we both give this our all, then I will be proud of us. For I'd rather try and fail, then never try at all and leave innocent fates to chance.

Murtagh felt himself straightening at Thorn's words. Although his nerves were still bad and his doubt still ever-present, he could not help but admire Thorn's resolve. It reminded him, yet again, that the king, despite all of his efforts, had not broken him. He was still resilient and hopeful and compassionate and energetic, and it brought tears to Murtagh's eyes.

Thorn reached out, his nose brushing Murtagh's cheek. I had to learn it from someone, you know.

Murtagh closed his eyes. Do you really think we can do this?

Thorn hummed. I do.

Then I will continue to have faith, my friend.

And that is all I ask of you.

You will not ask any more of me? Murtagh teased.

No more and no less.

…

Hal almost didn't notice it at first, but there was a resolve in the rider that she was sure hadn't been there before. It wasn't obvious, but something about his demeanor was certainly different. He stood just a little taller, despite the nervous way in which carefully avoided her gaze. He had let her sleep longer than she had anticipated, but he did not seem too tired or worn out. Yet she still watched him carefully, her curiosity almost overwhelming. But she kept her questions at bay through breakfast and again when they departed, Hal continuing on ground while Murtagh and Thorn flew overhead.

Not even an hour had passed when Nani began to act up, slowing down and whining nervously, rearing back on two legs as if desperate to turn around.

"Come on, Nani, I need you," Hal pleaded, trying to get the horse to calm down. She stroked the back of her neck, shushing her. "Please, just a little bit further. You can do it, come on, girl."

Nani snorted, shaking her head. But eventually the horse calmed down long enough to press forward, and Hal breathed with newfound fear. Nani's instincts were sharp. If she sensed something was wrong, then something was definitely wrong.

Riding became harder, Nani trying to turn back, becoming so desperate that she threatened to buck Hal a few times. As difficult as it was, they pressed forward. Hal's eyes were no longer peeled for signs of her companions, but rather for signs of a threat. Something more dangerous than a lovuk. Something sinister enough to spook Nani.

Something not of this island.

Suddenly she felt it. An instantaneous stillness that made her muscles seize and the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It was as if the world had suddenly gone silent. Hal could no longer hear the wind whipping past her ears or the beating of the ground beneath Nani's hooves. All she could hear was the slow exhale of her breath, and the sharp inhale when she realized something was devastatingly wrong.

Nani came to a shuddering halt, digging her hooves into the dirt. Hal, completely unaware, was flipped over the horse's head and landed hard on the ground. She was sure the only reason she hadn't broken anything was because her body had been completely relaxed upon impact from not realizing what had been about to happen. But it didn't hurt any less. Her knees and wrists stung from the shock of the impact as she rolled into a stop, her shoulder smarting. Jarred but unhurt, she looked up in stunned surprise.

"NANI!"

The horse suddenly took off back where they had come. Hal scrambled to her feet and started after her, but it was futile. She watched, horrified, as Nani disappeared into the thicket, leaving her stranded. Hal swallowed her fear, unsure of what could have possibly frightened Nani so much that she would not only throw Hal from the saddle, but then run away. It was completely out of character, and Hal was frozen, her eyes scanning the quiet area with trepidation.

She couldn't hear anything. No birds, no insects. Not even the river. Yet everything else appeared as normal as ever. The sky was just as blue, the sun just as warm. Yet she still shook with how unnatural her surroundings seemed, terrified to be stranded.

That's when she felt it again. Not a stillness, but a presence. The feeling of being watched. Shaking, Hal slowly turned around, reaching stealthily for the dagger at her hip. But there was nothing there. Just an empty forest. Her eyes scanned her immediate surroundings, but she saw nothing and no one. Yet she felt a presence all the same, like something was calling to her. She walked with trepidation, her dagger in hand, slowly crouching down to make herself a smaller target in case the need arose.

"Halen!"

She yelped in surprise, spinning on her heel as Thorn landed, Murtagh jumping down from his saddle. Whatever she had felt, it was gone now, and Hal shook her head as if waking up from a dream. The rider ran towards her, brows pinched with concern. Hal could've hugged him, she was so relieved to see him. In his hand, she noticed for the first time, was a sword, still in its sheath. She stared at in surprise as he approached. It was the first time she had seen him properly armed. "Are you all right? What happened? Where's Nani?"

Hal looked over her shoulder once more, unsure of how she should describe what had just happened. "Something spooked Nani and she took off after tossing me from the saddle." She turned back to face Murtagh. "Do you feel it?"

"Feel what?"

Hal blinked, and realized the stillness and silence she had felt had been lifted. Or perhaps it had never been there to begin with. She could hear the cry of the birds' overhead, the rushing water of the river to their left. And yet…

Hal turned away from him again, feeling like she was losing her mind. She shook her head slowly. "It's nothing."

"Are you sure?"

She snorted. "No. But there's nothing here so why bother? I'm more pressed about the fact that my horse is a coward." She sighed. "We might as well explore on foot and find a place to rest. I have a feeling we are close to wherever my friends disappeared from."

Murtagh watched her carefully, his eyes filled with doubt at her nonchalance. Wanting to dissuade his concern in order to, hopefully, appease her own, Hal decided to change the subject. "Where did you get the sword from?"

He glanced down as if also surprised to see it in his hand. "It's mine. It was at the bottom of the reef where you rescued me."

"Ah, of course," Hal said slowly. She was sure he probably wouldn't mind considering his life was at stake, but she decided not to mention they were likely the heavy items she had decided to cut from his persons. "Are you strong enough to wield it?"

His face twisted with indignation.

Hal rolled her eyes, immediately annoyed that his pride was so easily wounded. "I meant since you almost died, you overly sensitive kitten. As confident as I am in my abilities — and make no mistake, I am very good — I'm also not an idiot. I don't have the physical and mental capacity to worry about you and my friends."

"Then I relieve you of your heavy burdens! I apologize for being such an inconvenience on your physical and mental capacities."

"Great Heavens, rider, you insist on acting like everyone is out to get you."

"Not that I owe someone like you an explanation—"

"Someone like me?"

"—but I don't have the luxury of assuming people have my best interest at heart. As far as I'm concerned, doing so will get you used or it will get you killed and I refuse to let that be my life or Thorn's any longer."

"Then what the bloody hell are you even doing out here—?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" he roared, throwing his hands up in the air, and silencing Hal immediately in surprise. Not because she was frightened, but because it was the most emotion he had shown to date. She could hear his own frustration, irritation, and confusion in his tone. But it was also the way he took a deep breath before his entire body just seemed to fold in on itself. His shoulders became hunched, almost defeated. And he hung his head as if the fight had left him. "I don't know," he repeated, in a softer voice. He couldn't even look at her, his hands on his hips.

Hal shook her head, not willing to stand down just because of his outburst. "Look, if your pride is going to be an issue, Morzansson, tell me now. Because there are missing people who are very important to me that I will find, with or without you. I will not have you slowing me down because your head is shoved so far up your own ass. Now you offered your services, and I will still gladly accept them. But I need you to remember that there are good men with families waiting for them to come home. This is not about you, or me, or Eragon, or Thorn, or little girls. I need you in this all way. Can you do that?"

Even under the abhorrent beard, she could see how his jaw tightened, a vein throbbing around his temple. But just like before, after she had snapped at him, she could see how he seemed to fight with himself, shame gnawing away anger fighting with indignation. There was a warzone going on in this man, and Hal was beginning to realize the depths of how far gone he truly was.

Once again, she felt guilty for being short with him. She was anxious. Nothing about the last few months was making any sense. The lovuk acting out, the mysterious print, her friends missing, the silence, the evil presence Eli claimed to have felt. And it was obvious that Murtagh was feeling his own strain, his own weight.

Hal closed her eyes and took a slow breath.

"I lied to you before," she said in a much softer tone. Murtagh didn't glance at her, but she knew he was listening. "When you asked me why I came out here alone. I said that I was the strongest hunter left, which is true. I am. But the full truth is that…no one else wanted to come."

Murtagh's head finally snapped up, his eyes narrowed as if in disbelief.

Her smile was pained, her throat tight. "Everyone was too afraid. I can't say I blame them. You may think them cowards but…the people of this village are not built for this sort of supernatural…thing. If I fail, not only will the families of these men be left to fend for themselves, but so will my village. We are all the best hunters and fighters and trackers we have. Six people out of hundreds. If that doesn't tell you the kind of life we lead here, I don't know what will."

She took a large step forward until they were practically chest-to-chest, her gaze firmly holding his. He did not look away, unable to from the resolve and fire in her eyes. "You should be dead, rider. I saw what that sea serpent did to your body. You weren't even breathing when I found you. Not to mention you used magic you shouldn't have been able to use to heal Thorn, and still did not die. And that shield you created to protect us from Thorn's fire when the lovuk attacked was bloody magnificent. I need that Murtagh Morzansson with me. Here. The man who continuously defies the odds to do what needs to be done. And I know he's there. So please, help me."

There was a long pause, but Hal refused to back down. She stood there, breathing slowly, waiting, as neither of them refused to break away first. Finally, Murtagh nodded, his expression steady. It wasn't exactly confident, but it was acceptance, and she could work with that.

Grinning, Hal curled the fingers of her hands into fist. Raising her arms at the same time, she beat twice on her chest, and twice on Murtagh's, using her left hand so that she landed right over his heart. "I knew you still had a fight in you, Dragon Rider."