A/N: Thank you for all of your comments to my poll! Keep them coming.

Chapter 13: Face-To-Face

The days following the unexpected attack were long and full of death. Eragon spent every second of his time seeking and destroying Galbatorix's men. Oromis helped as often as he could, but strength deluded him, leaving the work to the stronger elves.

Eragon strode among the damaged trees, sword drawn, looking warily about him. He could feel Saphira's emotions running wild a few meters back, and he recognized her fighting stance.

A twig snapped behind him, and Eragon swung around in time to meet a soldier's blade. The man's speed was miniscule compared to his own, and he smote him down quickly and mercilessly.

This killing…. Eragon thought, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of it. Saphira, do you have a moment?

Yes, little one. Where are you? Saphira's voice was soft and menacing. Eragon knew that a satisfying battle had taken place.

I'm directly south of the Crags. I wish to see Murtagh.

There was a hesitant pause. I'm on my way.

Eragon ran one callused hand through his hair and sighed. The beautiful land of the elves hand been broken, and not even their own magic could keep up with the destruction that the soldiers created. Only the hatred that radiated from the creatures kept them at bay.

A gust of wind from above signaled Saphira's arrival. She landed and bowed low, allowing him access to her back. He slipped securely behind her wings just fast enough to hold on as Saphira took off.

Her wings soon shifted downward, and led to a smooth descent to a small shack. Eragon slid down Saphira's flank and cantered up to the decrepit door. The house seemed untouched by the disaster.

Do you need help, Eragon? Asked Saphira anxiously. Her view of the prison had not changed since she first discovered it.

No. Go and fight. I can take care of myself.

Be cautious, hatchling. You are sticking your nose into the unknown.

Eragon scowled as he entered. He first saw Thorn, who was curled up in a ball. In the center of the swirling tail was the thin figure of Murtagh.

"Still sleeping, brother?" Hissed Eragon loudly enough to rouse Murtagh.

The Rider's eyes shot open immediately, revealing two blood-shot pupils, scrutinizing Eragon distastefully. "Come to mock me?" he asked, his voice was a drawl, as if he were drunk. "Your victory will be short-lived."

Murtagh stood clumsily and yawned, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Eragon's hand hovered over his sword as he watched his brother climb from Thorn's body. He looked at him silently.

"I guess this is what I get for bowing under Galbatorix," grumbled Murtagh.

"No," contradicted Eragon, deciding that his brother's company was safe enough to sit in. "You couldn't resist him. Powers beyond even you were holding you back."

Murtagh mumbled something that Eragon couldn't hear. "So, the woman…. listening to us now…. in the dummy….she's magical, isn't she?"

This had an apparent answer, but Eragon was happy to start a conversation.

"Yes."

"She told me her name. She said it was Kuthian."

Eragon froze with shock. "What?"

"Kuthian," repeated Murtagh, annoyed, "the mannequin's name is Kuthian."

Memories buffeted Eragon with cold realization. Speak your name to the rock of Kuthian to open the Vault of Souls. "This place is the Vault of Souls…." Murmured Eragon.

"Huh?" Murtagh's voice woke Eragon from his thoughts.

"Ah…. what an odd name," said Eragon, deciding it was better to keep this valuable information to himself.

Eragon! Saphira broke into his mind viciously, radiating a strong sense of fear.

What is it?

We have captured a messenger from Galbatorix himself! Apparently a soldier witnessed us apprehend Murtagh and Thorn. The king has sent bargaining agreements to get him back.

Whatever he has to offer us is worthless.

You don't understand—he has Arya!

A/N: I know it's been long, and I know you've missed me so much, but here's your precious chapter, and I'm sorry to say that the package comes with an extra helping of cliffhanger. Enjoy!