Thorn snapped up the food in front of him. The elves gathered eyed him warily. Shruikan was clicking his claws on the ground, digging little ruts in the dirt with each movement.

"I wish I could say I welcome your visit, dragons," Islanzadí said, her voice cold. "But I cannot."

We do not expect you to, Shruikan dismissed.

Rune glanced nervously from the elf queen to the dragons. Thorn still hadn't looked up from his meal.

Saphira and Slate sat far apart from them, as if worried they would be classified with the other dragons. Glaedr watched from even farther back, disgust clear on his face. According to the old dragon, Shruikan's bond to Galbatorix was perverted, filthy.

We are on the same side of this battle, Shruikan told them all. Our mission is different, the end is the same.

"And what might that end be?"

Galbatorix's dethronement and the return of the Riders, Shruikan responded in the Ancient Language without a moment of hesitation.

"You say your mission is different. In what way?"

We are here to prevent a certain order of the king from being fulfilled. Galbatorix has bound to him a young woman by the name of Lily. She—

Shay stiffened. "Lily? You have news of Lily?"

Shruikan fixed his eyes on her. Recognition flickered in them. Yes.

"She's not dead?"

Last I saw her, she was very much alive.

Joy swelled in Shay's heart. Lily! Alive! For the first time in two years, Shay felt pure, utter, untainted happiness again. It was as if half of her soul had suddenly been returned. Half of her being restored, half of her very essence, her life, became one with her again.

She bounced up and down in childish joy. She knew all the elves were looking at her, but it didn't matter. Lily was alive!

"She's alive!" the young woman crowed.

She was so happy she turned to Vanir and kissed him full on the lips.

The elf turned pink, and Shay realized what she had done. She went rigid, blushing like mad. Turning back to the table, she folded her hands daintily, biting her lip.

"This is good news," she muttered, not looking at Vanir, or the dragon. Instead, she looked at the table, her face still a shade of rose.

Shruikan let out a laugh. Perhaps.

Rune saw the discomfort her friend was in. "Shruikan, where is this Lily?"

She is heading here, to Ellesméra, to fulfill her orders.

"Lily's coming here?" Shay asked excitedly.

Shruikan nodded. Yes. Although her arrival is hardly to be celebrated.

"Why? What's she supposed to do?"

Shruikan hesitated. I do not know, he admitted in the Ancient Language.

"How is it that you are here, Darkbane?" Vanir asked.

Shruikan laughed. Darkbane? An interesting title, little elf.

Vanir frowned at being called 'little'.

Nonetheless, I accept it. Shruikan Darkbane… The dragon mused. Dignified, for sure. He stretched his wings. As for your previous question…

"How is it that you are here? Surely Galbatorix bound you to Uru'baen."

Galbatorix has grown careless. He gave me permission to leave with Thorn, so as to train him.

"But wouldn't that restrict your actions to actually teaching him?"

Shruikan smiled like a cat would at a helpless mouse. I was put in charge of his education. I choose what to teach him. Who's to say he's not learning as we speak?

Thorn snorted, sending vegetable pie flying. Rune, Arya, Shay, and Islanzadi ducked under the table. The others were splattered with food.

Sorry, the red dragon muttered sheepishly.

Slate stepped forward, sniffing Thorn. Thorn hissed at him.

Where's your Rider, dragon? Slate demanded.

I could ask you the same question.

Slate backed off. Rune watched him with sorrowful sage eyes. He couldn't say where Súndavar was, and they both knew it.

Rune felt Shay's hand on her shoulder, and she leaned into the captain, feeling like she was about to cry again.

"Where is that Rider?" Islanzadí asked. "He should be here." she turned to Rune. "Rune, daughter, will you go and fetch him?"

Rune turned white. Shay squeezed her shoulder.

"No, your majesty. I'll get him," she said, standing up.

Rune's eyes were full of thanks.

Don't worry, Shay mouthed to her.

She hurried off to Súndavar's tree.

Shay pounded on the door. "Súndavar?"

"Go away." His reply was tight.

"It's Shay. I'm coming in."

"No!"

Shay opened the door anyways. Súndavar was sitting on his bed, the shard of glass covered in blood. Shay batted it away from him, and it clattered to the floor.

"Heal your wound," she demanded.

Súndavar stared at her defiantly.

"Heal it," Shay repeated. "Rune may be hesitant to do anything about your pathetic self-pity, but I'm not. Heal it now."

"Waise heill," Súndavar spit at her. The blood stopped.

Shay smiled cruelly. "Good. Now get up."

Súndavar didn't obey.

"Get up!"

Still, the Rider remained sitting. "I don't take orders from you, Shay."

"Get your pathetic self off the bed, Súndavar Eddyrheart!"

Súndavar moved to slap her, but Shay caught his hand. "You're pitiful!" she hissed. "Súndavar, you need to get a grip. A life would be nice too. There are people in this world who are depending on you, and with every cut you doom not only yourself, but them!"

"I don't care about them!"

"You're a Rider! It's your job to care!"

"But I don't!"

"What about Rune? She misses you, Súndavar. You hurt her. Doesn't that matter?"

"No."

"That's not true, and we both know it. Now get up and come downstairs."

Súndavar pulled his hand from her grasp. "Leave me alone! Don't you get it? I don't want to be a Rider! I don't want to be a hero! And I don't need Rune! Or Slate or anybody. And I certainly don't need you."

Shay looked at him. "If you don't need anybody, then end it. You're not happy, then just give up and die." She picked up the piece of glass. "Go ahead. I won't stop you."

Súndavar looked at it. What? Shay wasn't making sense…

Could he do it? Give up everything?

Yes…

No.

Súndavar threw the piece of glass against the wall.

"See? You don't want to die, Súndavar. You don't want to hurt yourself. All you want is to feel better."

"I do feel better. When I feel the dagger part my skin, that's when I feel better."

"There are a thousand other ways," she told him.

"But I like this one." By now, Súndavar sounded whiny. His world seemed to be collapsing. The delicate balance the cuts had given him was shattering. He could see through this pathetic excuse for relief.

What did he really want?

Rune?

No. He loved her, but he wanted her to be happy. If he couldn't give her that happiness, then he could live without her love. She herself was more important than his longing for her.

Power?

No. Not that either.

He wanted joy. He wanted to feel real, alive. Feel like he could make a difference, like he mattered.

"Súndavar, come on," Shay said softly.

He followed without a word.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Rune ignored Súndavar entirely, not even glancing his way.

When dinner was finished, he pulled her aside.

"Rune, I'm sorry."

She refused to meet his eyes. "You always say that, Súndavar. But you don't mean it."

"I do this time."

"Prove it."

"I won't cut myself anymore. Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur'tugal."

Rune pursed her lips. "And you won't try to force me into anything?"

"No. I want you to be happy."

She smiled gently. "Súndavar, I am happy. I'm happy with you as my friend."

"I'm sorry I screamed at you. I don't hate you."

"I know."

"Then…we're friends again?"

"I suppose. If you want to be." She smiled coyly, batting her eyelashes. He laughed and kissed her forehead.

Thorn nudged them apart with his snout. Come, Dove. I've been instructed not to let you out of my sight.

"Instructed? By whom?"

Murtagh.

Rune bounced up and down, hugging Thorn's nose. "Murtagh? You mean he's alright? How is he?"

He is well. But he misses you.

"I miss him too. I think…" she paused, then frowned. "Murtagh is the one with the scar on his back, right?"

Thorn nodded, looking at her questioningly.

"It's a long story," Súndavar explained.

I'm sure. Now, come.

Rune went to sleep snuggled underneath Thorn's wing, his dragonfire against her heartbeat.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Lily placed her hand against the great tree, her heart aching.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

In a louder voice she called a single word. It echoed over the forest, sending birds from their roosts, and animals from their dens.

"Brisingr!"