Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to Deer-Shifter, because I accidentally used her words in the last chapter. I guess great minds think alike. I'm sooooo sorry. I hope this dedication makes it up to you! Hearts and apologies to you, Kittie

"Waíse hiell."

Eragon's fingers were soft on Shay's skin. The wound on her shoulder closed, leaving only dried blood as a marker for where it had been. The pain evaporated. She smiled at him thankfully, fingering the arrow.

Arya was nursing Súndavar's leg gently. So far, the boy hadn't even let her touch the arrow, much less remove it. His face was drawn tight with pain, but he made no move to complain.

"It has to come out, Súndavar," Shay called at him. "Just close your eyes and think of something else."

Súndavar shook his head, batting Arya's hand away again. "Don't touch it!" He scooted away from her, his leg hanging uselessly.

Lightning fast, Arya's arm shot out, gasping the arrow. Before Súndavar could respond, she jerked it. The arrowhead tore free, leaving a trail of flesh and blood. Súndavar gave a surprised yelp, grabbing protectively at his leg.

Be you fine, Shadow?

Súndavar didn't respond to the dragon, who was crouched near Saphira, watching with interest.

Arya murmured a few words in the Ancient Language, and the wound healed. Súndavar let out a relieved sigh.

"Thanks," he said, breathless.

"We should keep going," Eragon advised, looking at the sun, which was now directly above them.

Shay nodded. "I've no doubt that we left our mystery attacker behind, but now we know it's not safe to rest all night. We'll stop every four hours for one hour breaks."

Súndavar opened his mouth to complain, then thought better of it and closed it again. "Fine with me."

Slate and I are going to hunt, Saphira informed them all. We will meet you in four hours.

Eragon nodded at the dragons, who took to the sky.

Tired, but with renewed resolve, the group continued on.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Galbatorix threw the mirror against the wall, shattering it. The magical image on its surface disappeared, leaving only glittering shards, scattered across the floor.

Flipping a dagger from his belt, Galbatorix spun around and threw it. It sunk into the wall several inches.

Rage filled, the king collapsed into a soft chair. "She failed…that little…she…supposed to kill them…" Shaking with fury, he took a sip of the wine on his desk, then threw the glass against the wall.

Shruikan watched with cautious, calculating eyes. She will follow them to Ellesméra.

"On foot!" Galbatorix cried, spinning to face the dragon. "She'll never make it on time. That girl made the perfect assassin. No one would have hurt her."

If Eragon awakens your daughter—

"Do not call her that!" yelled Galbatorix. "She is a disgrace to my name! No better than a bar whore. I've disowned her."

She is Lycona's child, Shruikan reminded softly.

With the mention of Lycona, Galbatorix's eyes softened. The rage disappeared from his face. "Yes. She is," he said sadly.

Lycona would have wanted her to be happy. Shruikan didn't feel bad manipulating Galbatorix. Since his talk with Rune, before he had unknowingly sent her to her downfall in the tunnel, his dislike of the old Rider had grown. He had begun to think about everything that they had accomplished. Was it all for the good of the Empire, as Galbatorix had said?

"She would have." He cracked his knuckles. "But I am not Lycona. Lycona is dead. Rune killed her."

Shruikan didn't respond. Rune hadn't killed Lycona. Galbatorix had. He had killed her heart the moment he forced her into bearing his child. From that fateful night onward her body began to waste away in sorrow. She got by, but she didn't live.

"Rune will die for what she has done," Galbatorix continued. "She has caused me too much sorrow."

Shruikan heaved a dragon sigh. He had begun to realize something that he hadn't noticed in centuries. Galbatorix had blinded him with visions of glory. Shruikan now realized the bitter truth, a truth he had denied to accept before. Galbatorix was insane. It was the only possible reason for his behavior.

It was a good kind of insanity, the kind that gave you strength to carry out the worst deeds other men wouldn't be able to stomach. It was the kind of insanity that took away your conscience, took away your humanity. But insane was insane, and nothing could change that.

Stretching out his wings, Shruikan continued to watch his Rider.