When Armelle woke up the next morning, it was to her father pushing breakfast in her direction.
"You slept later than I expected," Devon said softly, though he didn't seem overly upset by that. "Eragon and Brom are working on a saddle for Saphira. Once it is finished, we'll be leaving for them to find horses."
Armelle hummed a little as she sipped at the warm broth of her breakfast stew. "Eragon won't like that."
"No, but Brom will convince him to do it," her father said with a smile. "Especially since the two of us already have horses to travel with."
"Brom's good at convincing Eragon," Armelle noted. "Although if he could manage it without frustrating him, I would appreciate it."
Argenta snorted softly, a puff of smoke leaving her nostrils. If only they weren't both so bull-headed.
Armelle smiled as she nodded in agreement. "If only."
Devon chuckled a bit at them before letting Armelle finish her breakfast, kissing her golden hair softly.
She smiled at her father before she finished her stew.
By the time Brom was finished with the saddle for Saphira, it was time for dinner.
Armelle and Argenta had spent almost the entirety of the day talking and waiting for the others to say they were ready to leave. She didn't want to push Eragon, he still wasn't overly excited with the crowd he'd gathered to travel with him, but he knew it had to be done. He needed the help, and the Ra'zac were after Argenta too. It wasn't just his fight.
Eragon and Brom eventually cleared the air that was causing such awkward interactions between them with Brom apologizing for the events that occurred, and what happened to Garrow. After they made the decision that the group would be leaving in the morning, Brom and Eragon entered a new discussion.
"We need horses," Brom told Eragon simply. "Devon and Armelle already have them, but we're going to need them to make good time and catch the Ra'zac."
"Why don't you ride Armelle's horse, and let Armella and I fly?" Eragon asked, raising an eyebrow.
"There's not horse alive that can outrun a flying dragon," Brom told him simply. "And Saphira and Argenta are too young to carry more than one person."
"Besides," Devon said as he looked at the young male Rider. "It will be safer for all of us if we stick together."
"But that will make it harder to catch the Ra'zac," Eragon protested. "On Saphira and Argenta, Armelle and I could find them within a day or two. On horses it'll take much longer—if it's even possible to overtake their lead on the ground!"
"Eragon," Armelle said softly, keeping her tone calm to try to calm down the other Rider's exasperation. "There's no other way for them to come with us, and we need the help."
"Alright," Eragon conceded, but it wasn't happily. "We'll get horses." He looked at Brom. "But you'll have to buy them. I don't have any money, and I don't want to steal again. It's wrong."
"That depends on your point of view," Brom said with an almost teasing tone in his voice, looking between both of the new Riders. "Before we set out on this venture, you both must remember that your enemies, the Ra'zac, are the king's servants. They will be protected wherever they go, and laws do not stop them. They'll have near-unlimited resources and willing servants when in the cities."
"And both of you must remember," Devon insisted, looking between his daughter and Eragon seriously. "Nothing is more important to Galbatorix than recruiting you, or killing you—though, if we have any luck on our side, word of you two has not reached him yet. The longer we evade the Ra'zac, the more desperate the king will become. Every moment that passes without him finding the two of you means you're growing stronger, and will have more and more chances to join his enemies. We must be more careful than ever before. It won't take much to turn you from the hunters to the hunted."
Armelle and Eragon both nodded slightly, the words of both men laying heavily over the small camp as the young Riders mulled over the words.
Brom rolled over to sleep only a few moments later.
Armelle leaned against Armelle's side once again before she settled to sleep again.
Rest, little elf, Argenta said softly. We will travel again in the morning.
Goodnight, Armelle said as she laid down on her bedroll for the night, telling her father the same thing before she closed her eyes to sleep.
The group packed up their bedrolls and shouldered their packs as they set out early in the gray light of dawn. Armelle and her father led their horses by their reins as they headed back toward Eragon's old home to find the path they needed to take toward the next roads.
Armelle watched the skies as Argenta led Saphira westward, deeper into the mountains.
Her heart twisted a little as she watched them go, but she knew they would be safe, especially while they were together. They knew better than for the dragons to stay nearby—there would be no way to explain that if they met a fellow traveler down the roads.
Armelle knelt lightly in the snow beside a set of tracks. The Ra'zac's prints were faint, but it was very unlikely the creatures had forgone the road to trek through the wilderness when they were protected and the easiest way out of the valley was down the path they were on. There was no denying, though, that once the road began to fork outside the valley, they would have a harder time tracking the monsters.
As they walked, Armelle noticed the scabs of Eragon's wounds beginning to crack and bleed.
"Eragon," Armelle said softly, looking at him in concern. "Why don't you ride one of the horses while we walk? It will help your legs heal."
Eragon shook his head slightly. "I'll be alright," he assured simply. "Besides, sitting in the saddle will only rub at them."
"Then sit side-saddle," Armelle tried again, sighing. "But it would make me feel more at ease, Eragon. Please."
The Blue Rider blushed at the idea of riding side-saddle, even if they were alone on the road. "I… um…"
"Please," Armelle pressed again. "I just don't want them to get any worse, while we can't care for them like they should be cared for."
Eragon sighed. He knew her heart was in the right place, he just didn't want to do anything embarrassing.
"Alright," he finally conceded after a few moments of mulling it over and dreading the idea.
Armelle smiled in relief. "Thank you."
He mumbled a little under his breath.
"Eragon," Devon called before they stopped and the Blue Rider tried to climb onto Armelle's golden filly, Dana. "Why don't you ride Mordor instead? He's more accustomed to… uncommon riding positions and he'll be able to go longer without taking a break with you on his back."
Eragon nodded a little. At least if he was going to have to ride sideways, it wouldn't be on a palomino horse.
Armelle chuckled a little at his look of relief.
Brom smiled around his pipe at the sight before they continued on.
After several more minutes of silent travel, their focus entirely on moving quickly to catch up with the Ra'zac, Eragon broke the silence.
"So what exactly can dragons do?" He asked Brom, though his gaze flicked between both of the men they traveled with. "You said that you knew something of their abilities."
Armelle couldn't help but listen in. She wanted to learn too.
Brom laughed. "Unfortunately, it's a pitiful amount compared to what I'd like to know. Your question is one that people have been trying to answer for centuries, so understand that what I tell you by its very nature is incomplete. Dragons have always been mysterious, though maybe not on purpose."
The old storyteller looked between both of the young Riders, knowing better than to think that Eragon's questions were not ones that Armelle was curious to find the answers to. He then glanced at Devon, nodded slightly, letting Brom know that he would aid in teaching them as much as he could.
Brom then continued. "Before I can truly answer your question, you both need a basic education on the subject of dragons. It's hopelessly confusing to start in the middle of such a complex topic without understanding the foundation on which it stands. I'll begin with the life cycle of dragons, and if that doesn't wear you two down, we can continue to another topic."
Armelle nodded quickly, expression brightening with curiosity.
She could feel Argenta's amusement, even from the distance between them.
Armelle promptly ignored the teasing silver beast.
"You see," Brom began as they continued down the road. "When a dragon lays an egg, the infant inside is ready to hatch. But it waits, sometimes for years, for the right circumstances. When dragons lived in the wild, those circumstances were usually dictated by the availability of food."
Devon whistled at Mordor, and the large war horse skipped a step to change his pace before he continued to recount the information Brom had started. "Once the dragons formed an alliance with the elves, as a certain number of their eggs—usually no more than one or two—were given to the Riders each year. These eggs—or, more accurately, the dragons inside—would not hatch until the person destined to be their Rider came into their presence. As for how they know that, no one really knows. People used to line up to touch the egg, hoping they would be chosen."
Armelle felt a sense of pride in herself bubble in her chest as she and Eragon looked at one another, smiling.
"They chose us, Eragon," she told him brightly as she looked where he sat on Mordor. "Out of everyone in Alagaesia. They chose us."
Eragon smiled at her in return. "Amazing."
Devon and Brom looked at each other, smiling knowingly. These two were the start of a new generation of Riders—the start of a new world. It was funny that they were both products of the old generation before the Fall.
Brom and Devon continued their lessons as they walked on. Brom explained what and when dragons ate, and how eating certain things would affect them.
Devon explained fighting techniques and strategy to use when attacking a dragon, whether on foot, on horseback, or from atop another dragon.
They continued on similarly for hours on end, until the sun was sinking with the evening and they were near Therinsford.
Armelle helped Eragon slide off of the back of Mordor while his legs were still tender once they had found a place to set up camp.
Eragon had finally reached his limit on holding back one more question. "Who was the Rider that owned Zar'roc?"
Armelle stiffened, though she tried to keep Eragon from noticing as Brom glanced between the half-elf and her human father before he answered the Blue Rider.
"A mighty warrior," Brom said simply, "who was much feared in his time and held great power."
"What was his name?"
Brom only barely glanced at Devon before he refused to answer Eragon. "I'll not say."
Eragon protested, not noticing the discomfort between Armelle and her father.
Brom was firm. "I don't want to keep you ignorant, far from it, but certain knowledge would only prove dangerous and distracting to you right now, especially if you were told all I know. There is no reason for me to trouble you with the knowledge until you have the time and power to deal with them—and never alone." He made sure Eragon saw him glance at Armelle that time. "The two of you must take on these tasks together, even when you are strong enough to do things apart. I only wish to protect you both from those who would use you for evil."
Armelle understood what he meant. She and Eragon were as close as blood now with their bond as Riders. They depended on each other. They supported each other from now on. Whatever choice one made would have an effect on the other, good, bad, or ugly.
Eragon didn't share that understanding. "You know what? I think you just enjoy speaking in riddles. I have half a mind to leave you just so I don't have to be bothered with them, storyteller. If you're going to say something, then say it instead of dancing around with vague phrases!"
"Peace," Brom soothed, "all will be told in time."
Eragon didn't seem convinced as the group settled down to make camp.
Soon after, the ragtag group found a place to settle for the night. The two shimmering dragons joined the camp as dinner was placed on the fire to cook.
Did you have time to hunt for food? Eragon asked Saphira, though his wonder was directed toward both of the growing reptiles.
Saphira snorted her reply. If the two of you were any slower, Argenta and I would have time to fly across the sea and back without falling behind.
There's no need to be rude, Saphira, Argenta chided.
The younger dragon lowered her head slightly, like she felt sheepish and well-scolded.
Once all of us have horses, we'll move faster, Armelle pointed out next, glancing between the two dragons with silver eyes that shined like her dragon's scales in the firelight.
Saphira puffed smoke. Maybe, but will it be enough to catch the Ra'zac? They have a lead of several days and many leagues. The dragon's tone changed to one on concern and suspicion. And I'm afraid they may suspect we're following them. Why else would they have destroyed the farm in such a spectacular manner, unless they wished to provoke you into chasing them?
Armelle bit back her concern, managing to hide the flooding emotion from Eragon and Saphira, but she couldn't keep it from Argenta. The older dragon brushed her nose carefully across the half-elf's shoulders as the thoughts consumed them.
If that is the case, then we can trust no one but those here with us now, Argenta said softly. And we must always stay on guard.
The half-elf nodded slightly as Argenta curled around her, and she laid against her pale silver belly.
Devon smiled slightly at the sight again before he turned to watch Brom, who was whittling two long sticks.
Suddenly, he launched a stick at Eragon, who reflexively caught it as it soared over the crackling fire. The Blue Rider looked thoroughly confused.
"Defend yourself!" Brom barked as he pushed to his feet.
Armelle looked to her father with both eyebrows raised.
Her father smiled slightly. "That's where I thought he was going with this."
Armelle turned back to the other Rider, watching carefully as Eragon pushed to his feet, and Brom slowly circled the fire. The two faced each other for a moment, and then Brom lunged for Eragon, swinging his stick with practiced precision.
Eragon tried and failed to block the swing, and he let out a yelp as Brom struck his ribs, stumbling back a few steps.
Once he was steadied again, Eragon lunged forward, but the old man parried the blow with ease. The Blue Rider whirled around again, swinging the stick toward Brom's head before sliding around with a sudden twist, and trying to hit Brom's side. Brom, of course, still blocked the strike with the resounding sound of wood on wood, but he was very pleased with the motion, eyes gleaming. "Improvisation—good!" His arm swung around swiftly again, and the stick collided with Eragon's head.
The Blue Rider crumpled in a daze.
Armelle pushed to her feet and moved quickly to Eragon's side to tend his wound, his head split and bleeding.
Brom was not so gentle. He splashed melted snow water in Eragon's face, hardly giving Armelle the time to back up to keep from getting splashed.
Eragon sat up with a jolt, gasping and sputtering. Armelle was beside him, looking at him in concern, and trying to use snow to gently wash the dried blood from his face. But the boy was furious, and sent Armelle away before he turned back to glare at Brom. "You didn't have to do that." He pushed himself to his feet, wobbling where he stood.
Armelle tucked herself back against Argenta's side, sighing softly. She supposed she'd just have to deal with an extremely grumpy Eragon when this was completely over. Or she'd just let Brom do it since he caused the problem.
Brom raised an eyebrow at Eragon's argument. "Oh? A real enemy wouldn't soften his blows, and neither will I. Should I pander to your… incompetence so you'll feel better? I don't think so." The old man lifted the stick Eragon had dropped, and held it out to him. "Now, defend yourself."
Eragon stared at the whittled stick for a long moment before he shook his head. "Forget it; I've had enough." When the Blue Rider turned away, and was struck across the back once again. He spun around with a growl.
"Never turn your back to the enemy!" Brom snapped, tossing the stick at Eragon again before he lunged.
Armelle glanced out of the corner of her eye to see her father shaking his head at what she suspected was supposed to be a teaching moment, but was turning into more of a punishment.
Eragon retreated around the fire, ducking beneath the onslaught of swings.
"Pull your arms in," Brom ordered as he continued to attack the boy. "Keep your knees bent." He continued to give instructions, then would pause to show Eragon a step-by-step of how to execute a certain maneuver.
"Do it again, but this time slowly!" They walked through the forms with an exaggerated slowness and deliberateness to the motions before returning to their furious sparring match around the campfire.
Armelle was impressed with how quickly Eragon was learning, but even with the improvement, he couldn't hold Brom off for more than a few blows.
Once they were finished, Eragon flopped onto his blankets with a resounding groan.
Armelle started to go to his side when Brom suddenly said, "No, Armelle," and hurled the same stick Eragon had been using at her. "It's you turn."
She snatched it out of the air with ease as she pushed to stand from where she'd knelt beside the other Rider. She was watching the old man warily, testing the stick in her hand without taking her silver eyes off of the former Rider.
Saphira, Argenta, and Eragon all perked up at the sight. Eragon wasn't sure if he would be upset or impressed if she came out of this with less bruises than he had. Maybe a bit of both. But she was half-elf, so she was more naturally inclined to fighting.
Brom lunged for her with a jab of the stick.
Armelle knocked it to the side, and Brom dropped to swing it back into her side. Armelle spun away, managing to send herself far enough away from the strike that she only had to bat away the tip of Brom's stick.
"Good!" Brom praised quickly. "You're faster than I could ever dream of being—use it against me!"
Armelle danced back a few steps, taking the time to try and watch what Brom would do next. She wondered what would happen if she took the opportunity to strike first. She was going to end up with bruises no matter what.
She lunged for Brom, swinging her stick toward his shoulder before dropping the blade to try striking him in the thigh.
He twisted his stick around hers to loosen it in her grip before he struck her over the wrist.
Armelle hissed and backed up again, managing not to lose her grip on the stick out of sheer luck.
Brom went back to an offensive attack, and Armelle was fast enough to block several of his strikes in a row before he tricked her and whacked her across the side of the thigh. The pattern continued several more times before Brom decided that she'd had enough for the night as well.
She sat down heavily against Argenta's side, using the warmth she emanated to soothe her aching.
Argenta laid her head down beside her Rider. Are you alright, little elf?
Fine, Armelle assured, her thoughts tired. Just ready to get some sleep.
Then sleep, little elf, the silver dragon soothed. Your father and I will be here when you wake.
Armelle sat up slowly the next morning, stiff and sore, but she was thankful for breakfast and ready to move on the next day. They were on track be able to find horses for Eragon and Brom to ride in Therinsford before noon, and by then they'd be able to catch up to the Ra'zac much quicker.
They'd only gone a league when they saw smoke rising in the distance. They were close.
Armelle's father turned to her. "Have Argenta fly ahead with Saphira and wait on the other side of Therinsford. But warn them to be very careful, otherwise people will notice them."
Armelle nodded and looked at Eragon. "Will you tell Saphira?"
Eragon nodded, a slightly challenging look on his face, like he wanted to blurt something about why Brom or Devon didn't do it themselves, but he restrained himself as both Riders relayed the message.
Be careful, little-elf, Argenta warned. The King has eyes in many places.
Armelle continued to lead Dana forward carefully, hoping her palomino filly didn't twist a leg in the deepening ruts in the road. The village of Therinsford was larger Carvahall, Armelle noticed as they entered, but the buildings were spread around in no particular order, built in random, haphazard construction. It was like the village had been built in a day.
"What a mess," Eragon said as he looked around.
"It's ugly, if nothing else," Brom agreed.
"Luckily, we don't have to stay for long," Devon pointed out.
The stepped forward to cross the Anora River on a stout bridge that seemed better built than the rest of the town. As they moved to cross, a greasy man jumped in their way from behind a bush. His shirt was too short, exposing his dirty stomach that spilled over the waistband of his pants, held up by a rope belt. His lips were split and cracked, and his teeth were broken to pieces.
Armelle almost backed up a step in disgust. He looked like the living embodiment of rot.
The man looked the group of four up and down before he spoke. "You c'n stop right there. This is my bridge. Gotta pay t' get over."
"How much?" Brom asked in an almost uninterested voice as he pulled out a pouch.
Armelle frowned slightly. She wondered what Brom had planned here.
The bridgekeeper brightened. "Five crowns." A sly grin spread across his disgusting face. "Or you could leave the girl with me."
Devon stepped in front of Armelle, glaring with sharp hazel eyes. "You'll get your crowns."
Eragon started to protest about the price and about his threat, but both of the adult men silenced him with a look. Whatever Brom was doing, Devon clearly understood the plan.
Brom handed over the coins.
The bridgekeeper placed them in a small sack hanging off of his belt. "Thank'ee much," he mocked before he stepped out of their way.
Brom stepped forward, but stumbled into the bridgekeeper, catching hid arm for support.
"Watch y're step," the grimy man said before he slipped further to the side.
"Sorry," Brom said simply before they started across the bridge.
Armelle shifted Dana so the golden horse blocked her from the view of the grime-covered heathen.
"Why didn't you haggle?" Eragon demanded when they were out of earshot. "Or skin him alive for that threat toward Armelle? We could've pushed right past him with no consequence."
"Probably," Brom agreed as Devon looked over his daughter carefully.
Armelle wasn't really fazed. He couldn't have actually done anything to her, not with her father and Brom and Eragon, and her more than capable ability to take care of herself.
"Then why did you pay him?" Eragon asked.
"Because you can't argue with all the fools in the world," Devon told Eragon with a small smile.
Brom nodded in agreement. "It's easier to let them have their way, then trick them when they're not paying attention. The old man opened his hand, and a pile of coins glittered in his palm, catching the sunlight.
Eragon looked at him incredulously. "You stole those!"
Devon chuckled at Eragon's reaction.
Brom pocketed the money and winked. "Anyone who gulls innocent travelers for a living ought to know better than to carry such a large sum on his person. Come, let us be off before our greedy friend realizes what happened. If you see any watchmen wandering around, either of you, tell me."
Devon handed Armelle the reins of his large warhorse before he knelt in front of a young boy playing between two houses, smiling kindly. "Hello. My friends and I are looing for two more horses for our travels. Do you know where we can buy some?"
The young boy stared at them with large, solemn eyes, and then pointed to a large barn at the edge of the village.
Armelle's father smiled at the boy and handed him a half coin. "Thank you." He turned back toward the others and took Mordor's reins in his hand again.
The barn's large double doors were open when they arrived, two long rows of stalls spread through, and the far wall was covered in saddles, harnesses, and other riding gear. At that end, there was a muscular man brushing a white stallion that almost rivaled Mordor's black beauty. The man beckoned them inside.
"That's a beautiful animal," Brom commented as they walked inside, Mordor and Dana following calmly through the stranger's barn. The young filly had calmed down drastically in their travels already. Armelle supposed the presence of dragons would do that, and the soft touch of her consciousness along the palomino's that let her know the half-elf could be fully trusted.
"Yes indeed," the horseman agreed. "His name's Snowfire. Mine's Haberth." He offered a rough palm to shake, and when accepted, he shook all four hands vigorously. After a polite pause while he waited for their names in return, and then they weren't given, Haberth turned back to business. "Can I help you?"
"We need two horses and a full set of tack for both," Brom told him simply. "The horses have to be fast and tough, able to keep up with these two behind us." He motioned to Dana and Mordor. "We'll be doing a lot of traveling."
Haberth thought for a moment. "I don't have many animals like that, and the ones I do aren't cheap." The white stallion danced a little where he stood, and Haberth calmed him with a few strokes of his fingers.
"Price is no object," Brom said simply. "I'll take the best you have."
Haberth nodded and silently tied the white stallion to the stall. He went to the wall and pulled down saddles, bridles, and all else they would need for their travels. Soon, there were two identical piles of riding equipment, and he turned to bring out two other horses, a light bay and a roan. The bay tugged against his lead.
"He's a little spirited, but with a firm hand you won't have any problems," Haberth said simply as he handed the rope to Brom.
Brom let the horse sniff his hand, and the bay allowed him to rub its neck. "We'll take him." He turned and eyed the roan. "The other one, however, I'm not so sure of."
"There are some good legs on him."
"Mmm… What will you take for Snowfire?"
Haberth looked at the white stallion fondly. "I'd rather not sell him. He's the finest I've ever bred—Im'm hoping to sire a whole line from him."
"If you were willing to part with him, how much would all of this cost me?" Brom tried again.
Dana and the bay horse sniffed at each other carefully, like they were trying to get used to the other's scent before Eragon pulled the bay's attention away.
Haberth added up the price of the purchase on his fingers. "Two hundred crowns and no less," he said with a smile that confidently told them he was sure no one would pay that much for the items and two horses.
Brom opened his pouch and counted the money. "Will this do?"
Haberth sighed after a long moment. "He is yous, though I go against my heart."
"I will treat him as if he had been sired by Gildintor, the greatest steed of legend," Brom promised.
Haberth bowed his head slightly. "Your words gladden me." He turned to help them saddle the horses, and when they were ready to leave, he said, "Farewell, then. For the sake of Snowfire, I hope that misfortune does not befall you."
"Do not fear; I will guard him well," Brom swore again before they left the barn.
"Here," Brom told Eragon suddenly, handing him Snowfire's reins. "Go with Devon and Armelle to the far side Therinsford and wait there."
"Why?" Eragon asked, but Brom was gone.
Devon only chuckled softly. "Come now. I'm sure it's nothing overly important." He led the two teenagers away with the shadow of Utgard looming in the south, like a giant monolith at the end of the valley, towering as the lesser mountains began to turn into foothills.
Brom returned shortly and gestured for the others to catch up. Once Therinsford was hidden by the trees, Brom explained what he'd gone to do. "The Ra'zac definitely passed this way. Apparently they stopped here to pick up horses, just as we did. I was able to find a man who saw them. He described them with many shudders and said they galloped out of Therinsford like demons fleeing a holy man."
Armelle's father hummed softly. "Thet left quite an impression."
"Quite," Brom agreed.
Eragon patted the neck of their new horses. "When we were in the barn, I touched the bay's mind by accident. I didn't know it was possible to do that."
"I did the same thing with Dana when we first began our travels," Armelle said softly. "It's made her calmer since."
Brom looked at them both consideringly. "It's unusual for Riders as young as you two to have the ability. Most Riders train for years before they were strong enough to contact anything other than their dragon." He inspected Snowfire with a thoughtful expression. Then he changed the subject, turning more fully toward Eragon. "Take everything from your pack, put it into the saddlebags, and tie the pack on top."
Eragon obeyed as Brom pulled himself onto Snowfire, Devon onto Mordor, and Armelle onto Dana.
They began their ride, trying to keep it as smooth and easy as they could while still keeping a quick pace. Eragon's legs were still too raw to ride hard.
As they rode, there was an unwavering, unfriendly presence in the air as they left from countrysides into wilder lands of brambles and tangling weeds and tall rock shapes. Utgard grew larger and more imposing with every step, absorbing light and dimming the surrounding area. There was a deep cleft in between the mountains and the east side of Palancar Valley that was the only practical way out of the valley.
The four sets of large hooves collided on the gravel path with a resounding sound as they fell into a single file line on the thinning road.
"What is that?" Eragon asked suddenly, pointing up to see a steepled perch with a crumbling turret.
Armelle's father looked at it sadly. "It was once a Riders outpost. It has been there since their founding."
"That was where Vrael took refuge," Brom continued in his storyteller way, "and where, through treachery, he was found and defeated by Galbatorix. When Vrael fell, the area was tainted. Edoc'sil, 'unconquerable,' was the name of this bastion, for the mountain is so steep none may reach the top unless they can fly. After Vrael's death the commoners called it Utgard, but it has another name; Ristvak'baen—the 'Place of Sorrow'. It was known as such to the last Riders before they were killed by the king."
Armelle looked back to her father, whose eyes had grown sad at the memories of his life as a Rider, his dragon… her mother.
A huge plain stretched beneath them as far as Armelle could see, blending with the sky at the ends as paintbrush stroke-like clouds spread across the sky. It was beautiful in a strange way, a flat, vast landscape that was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. She looked up to see the two dragons flying so far overhead that they looked like birds.
"We'll wait until tomorrow to make the descent," Brom decided. "It's going to take most of the day, so we should camp now."
"How far is it across?" Armelle asked, her voice full of wonder.
"Anywhere from two or three days to over a fortnight," her father answered, "depending on the direction we choose. Aside from nomad tribes that roam this section of the plains, it's almost as uninhabited as the Hadarac."
"We won't find many villages," Brom told them simply. "However, to the south of the plains, it is less arid and more heavily populated."
They slipped off the trail and stopped to camp beside the Anora River. Argenta landed beside the horses again and settled beside her Rider. There were only moments of rest before Brom was tossing a stick at Eragon, and they were practicing again.
Armelle knew she was next, realizing it in a dreadful thought. And by the time they were through for the night, both young Riders had a new collection of bruises to add to the others. She wasn't sure how, but she was sure she had more bruises from this practice than she had from the first.