Wow. Lots of reviews this time. Thanks everybody I can die happy now :)

randomcat23: Thank you! This is one of the few cliffhangers I've actually kept. The others have all died in first drafts. There should be another one in here somewhere ;)

Mistress-of-Misery: Heh heh, you'll be surprised at what was in it. This, in my opinion, is another joiner chapter. Go figure.

Erulastiel: Thank you!

RichardCranium: Yeah…I looked for that too and when nobody ever wrote one I gave up waiting and just wrote my own.

Bruisor-Princess Powerful: Erm, no, the person in the crystal was not Murtagh. Sorry. It's Aliya…who incidentally vanishes. Oh well. Thank you for your positive comments though!

SilverwhitePoison: Wow. You actually bothered to figure it out? Well think of it this way. When Saphira's about a month old she's as big as a horse, right? Well, assume she doubles her size maybe every year after that. So Shruikan's been around for…what, 100 years? So that's 100 periods of doubling (I'm a math genius!), and that makes him…very big. I don't know. He's big, anyhow. It is quite a chore to figure out how Galbatorix gets Shruikan out of the dungeon though :)

Anyhow, I shall shut up now.

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Salem froze, her cheeks white. There was an uncomfortable long pause, then finally he said, "Were you planning to do that?"

She shook her head numbly, then whispered, "I didn't want to die…but I didn't want him to, either."

"Huh." He bent down and lifted up Reynold's head, scanning the floor. "You shouldn't have pulled his arm toward you when you kicked, but you're a natural fighter, if that was any indication. This was a very neat job. No blood." His voice, cool and dispassionate, opened a gate within her. Salem gasped, struggling to hold back tears. She failed miserably.

He sighed, rubbing his knuckles together absentmindedly. His face took on a vaguely displaced expression. Salem took advantage of the pause to gather herself together. "Breathe," she whispered to herself. "Get control, Salem!"

The tears stopped. Salem flicked away the last of them hurriedly, watching the Rider out of a corner of her eye all the while. His eyes focused suddenly, and he spoke, making her jump ever so slightly. "What do you plan to do now?"

Salem hesitated, looking down at Reynold's tousled face. Finally, she said hesitantly, "I don't know. I can't…I can't stay."

His eyes fixed on hers. "No doubt about that. Do you have any family? Connections?"

This struck Salem as irony, pure and simple. She began to laugh hysterically, tears running helplessly down her face. "Connections? Well, I had connections. But I think I just destroyed the last of them because he had connections and I just killed him because he was going to destroy my connections. So really he got rid of my connections. No, actually, come to think of it, I destroyed my own connections. But my connections were dead anyway. Isn't that funny? Can you imagine—"

He sealed her mouth with a firm hand. In a measured voice, he said, "Get a grip on yourself. You fought him, you killed him. What's done is done. All the crying or hysteria in the world won't bring him back now." He turned her to face him. "Tell me—Salem, is that your name? Salem. Who do you know that you can go to?"

His calm voice gave her something to hold on to through her shock. Slowly, fighting to make sense of the question, she said hesitantly, "A—friend? I've got no kin left…but maybe Charis? I don't know. It's been a long time."

He shrugged. "It's a start," he said finally. His eyes fell on the body, and with a frown, he added, "We can hide it in my room, I think. Thorn will take it out for me."

Salem swallowed heavily, then nodded. "Is he…will he…?" She couldn't manage to say it.

He understood her anyway. "Will Thorn eat him? No." With a grunt, he hoisted the body onto his shoulder. "I can't guarantee he'll receive a good burial, though."

Salem followed him uncertainly into his room. She had been here only one before, and involuntarily her eyes darted to the patch of carpet where the Rider had bled. "You cleaned it up," she blurted, then flushed. "Sorry," she mumbled belatedly.

He ignored her completely.

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Thorn? Murtagh called. I need your help…

Ah. In the clear blue sky, a red dot appeared, enlarging rapidly as Thorn landed delicately on the balcony railing, wings spread.

The girl seemed considerably startled to see him. Her eyes widened with shock, and she took a step back, her hand going up her mouth. Thorn's eyes traveled from his Rider to the girl to the body lying on the ground. She killed him, Thorn said, assessing the situation. And now we need to hide the body. And get a place for her to stay. Am I right?

Your powers of intuition never cease to amaze me, Murtagh said with a small smile. You are absolutely right. Although I'm hoping she's got the 'place' part down.

Does he know about her? Thorn asked softly. You did hear what he said earlier…Sílica has been found. Peregrine's been found. Is it safe?

Murtagh relayed the question to Salem. With a sigh, she said, "Reynold was the last one to know…I think."

That's not very reassuring, Thorn observed dryly. 'I think' doesn't mean much.

As if reading the dragon's mind, Salem made a small smile. "I know," she sighed. "Anybody, really, could find it in my mind. Who knows who did? Maybe the Earl himself…oh, I don't know." She glanced outside, where the noontime rays of the sun spread over the forest. "I don't think…"

"Think what?" Murtagh asked quietly after a pause.

She didn't seem to hear. Salem continued to gaze out onto the woods.

Thorn cocked his head and gave her an appraising glance. I see, he said shortly. His red eyes fixed intently onto her. Murtagh caught a thin wisp of a thought before Thorn tucked it behind stone barriers, his tail flicking lazily in acknowledgement of the deed. Slowly, Murtagh said, You do know what you're doing, right?

The red dragon laughed. Do I know? I have a suspicion, and I'm not going to chat it over with you just yet. He closed his eyes briefly, reopening them to say, If she's got nowhere to go, she can hide in the woods. No one ever goes there.

Murtagh nodded, but a terrible feeling was crawling up his spine. He spoke briefly to Salem, outlining Thorn's offer. Salem turned slightly, then shook her head. "I'd like to see Charis," she said, twisting her dress nervously. "I haven't seen her in so long."

Murtagh, after a quick glance at Thorn, nodded. "All right."

Salem took a deep breath, looking anxiously at the giant dragon. At five months of age, Thorn was enormous, at least twice as large as a horse and certainly able to carry a stallion. Thorn grinned at her expression. Don't worry, he said, speaking directly to her. I don't bite. He yawned, showing very sharp, very white teeth.

Salem did not look reassured. Murtagh smiled slightly as he handed her a saddle. "He really doesn't," he said mildly. "Unless you annoy him."

Swallowing, she replied, "And what annoys him?"

Talking like I'm not right here, Thorn said wickedly. Procastinating. Slowing.

Salem muttered something that sounded like a curse under her breath and then clambered unsteadily onto Thorn's back. Murtagh gave her a few minutes to get settled, then dumped the body brusquely in front of her. She flinched at the sight.

Thorn dug his claws into the sill and let fly. Murtagh frowned as another flash of Thorn's mind seeped into his mind. He jumped up, absolutely horrified.

WHAT! Digging frantically into his vocabulary of the ancient language, he barked, "Blothr!"

There was a pause—then—he fell to his knees, gasping and coughing. The energy required to halt a dragon four times larger than he was—it was absolutely enormous. Thorn's mind broke into his, outraged. What do you think you're DOING?

The red dragon relanded on the windowsill, Salem fighting to keep the body on Thorn's back. Sucking in a deep breath, Murtagh coughed, "Stopping you."

Well, you're doing a brilliant job of it, Thorn said, surveying him with disgust. If I hadn't stopped, I figure you would drop dead right about now. This is far beyond your limits. Don't do it again. Ever.

Murtagh rested his forehead against the cool marble wall, breathing deeply. "Thorn," he said, not bothering to talk mind-to-mind, "Who is that girl in the woods? Who are you hiding?"

The red dragon flinched. Shh! How—how did you find that? Do you want everybody to hear? There's a fair wind out here!

Murtagh gritted his teeth. Who? he snapped.

Thorn's tail tapped the wall agitatedly. It's a fugitive, he said finally. A fugitive who managed to survive. He shook his head firmly. And it's absolutely none of your business, he added.

Yes, it is! Murtagh shouted. Thorn, what are you doing?

The girl leaned forward, careful not to grab Thorn's sharp scales. "What are you talking about?" she said sharply. "Who's hiding who?"

Thorn grimaced. Fine! Fine! I can't do anything these days, can I? Always somebody had to be on my case. This is so annoying. He rippled his shoulders, making Salem wince. Climb on, he said gruffly. I'll show you.

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"My lady!" Reya cried as a shadow fell over the woods.

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Go to chapter 13! Oh, wait, there is no chapter 13. Give me a second to type it up…

Who is this Reya? You'll find out. At least I think you will. It depends on how my muse chooses to dictate the story. And in case I didn't make it clear enough—Thorn knows more than he's letting on.

Read and Review! I don't own any of this stuff (except what I do) so don't sue.