Reviews!

Emerald Tiara: Oh, come on. The anticipation is the whole point of this story! Drawing it out…mwahahaha!

DragonMaster1992: Autumn Light? I'll take a look and see. I hate Indiana Jones, it's so…stupid. But hey, that's just my opinion. I'll see!

Mistress-of-Misery: Well, somebody's got to look at the deatails, or we'd go all wrong! And yes, I am Chinese, Taiwanese more specifically. I have no idea how those little words got onto the file—must be a side effect of this computer or whatever.

Telementhia: Which lines? I'll correct it if that's true!

Dreamer of Dancers: And you…are…I Elenial I! You know, all these name changes are a wee bit confusing…

Not a GeishaGurl: Oc? Afraid I'm not familiar with that lingo. Is it the same as ooc or different?

Here! Is! The! Chapter!

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4/3/101

"Murtagh!" the emperor cried jovially as he came nearer. "My friend, what are you doing here?" He raised an elegant eyebrow and waved disdainfully at the huge pile of broken marble. "Amid such a disgraceful mess?"

A low growl came from Thorn. Murtagh ignored him and forced his trembling muscles to still. "It was an accident," he said curtly. "I apologize."

Galbatorix laughed. "Why bother? It doesn't matter. It's just a hundred thousand gold crowns in pure elvish marble dating from the time of Illirea, that's all. It's quite all right, but I must say you're lucky that I can fix it. Because if not…" he let the words trail off ominously, his smile not reaching his eyes.

Next to him, the marble began to wriggle, melding together into a single mass before breaking apart to form three balconies. Galbatorix motioned upwards and the marble lifted, raising themselves back to their original positions before fusing effortlessly with the rest of the palace. The crowd murmured with excitement; Murtagh felt unnerved. He and Thorn had strained to lift a single block…this took far more energy. Yet Galbatorix had done it easily—so much power!

A voice in his ear disturbed him. "Shouldn't you be off? I believe you have much to do!" Galbatorix's arm was slung over Murtagh's shoulder in a friendly, companionable way, a broad smile on his face.

Murtagh jerked away. Galbatorix let him, his eyes gleaming as he turned to Thorn. "A dragon!" he cried. "Your name—ah, how it escapes me. But I beg you to grant me an audience, there is much we have to discuss." He smiled benignly, then turned to the crowd, inclining his head. "Masters, mistresses, I believe you have tasks to do?"

The members of the crowd curtsied or bowed according to their gender, then vanished with amazing speed. Galbatorix watched them go, his smile gaining a touch of malice as he turned back to Thorn and Murtagh. "Murtagh," he said softly, "I believe you should leave now."

Murtagh swallowed deeply, his weariness banished for the moment. Finally, in a grim voice he said, "What will you do to Thorn?"

Galbatorix didn't answer him, but his smile had definitely gotten nasty. "Leave, Brikijae Knívarya," he said, invoking Murtagh's true name. "You have a task to do."

Murtagh had no choice. His muscles seized involuntarily and he was powerless to resist the strange force that walked him away from the emperor and Thorn. Thorn, he said desperately, no matter what he does…

I know, Thorn whispered. Wait—what—no! His voice was agitated, sharp, then cut off abruptly. The dragon's ever-present whisper in Murtagh's mind was gone, vanished. Murtagh swallowed painfully, straining to turn back. Galbatorix had blocked Thorn's connection to him…just like before, he was alone now.

It wasn't until he exited the palace through the front gate that Murtagh was in control once more. The guards gave him odd looks as he dropped against the flagpost, eyes closed as he tried to squeeze a much needed rest into five minutes.

When he felt marginally better, Murtagh stood, his eyes clear and hard. If he had to find Salem…well, he would. How?

Galbatorix had told him that she had reentered the city but had subsequently vanished. A patrol had been sent out to capture her, but at that time Galbatorix had no news. Murtagh rubbed his forehead and sighed. The first order would be seeing if she had exited the city, then, though he found that somewhat unlikely. At the very least, he could see if the patrol had found her.

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Salem sat bolt upright, her heart pounding madly. For one horrible moment she'd thought that Galbatorix had gotten her, his eerily handsome face filling her view and laughing. She'd never heard him laugh in reality, but in her dream it echoed and filled the very corners of the privy, but then from the hole came a roaring dragon that blew purple fire…

"Just a dream, Salem," she told herself fiercely. "You're at home, you're safe, you're—AUGH!" With a yell, Salem fought to get free of the blankets and ended up falling out of the bed into an ungainly heap. She managed to get her head free and looked out, blinking.

"You're awake!" a woman from before came in, the dark-haired woman from before. "We feared you never would."

Salem grunted and rubbed her clothing uneasily as she wrestled the last few blankets into a heap. Her palace uniform was gone, replaced by a clean cotton shift. Finally, she said, "How long did I sleep?"

The woman—what was her name again? Rione? Rila? It began with an 'r'…--gave her a look. "Well, let's see," she said. "You crawled out of the sewers near dawn, and it's about half past noon. So I'd say six hours, give or take."

"Six hours!" Salem gasped. "But—"

"Oh, don't worry. Nothing's gone on. Liane helped me change you, by the way—falling asleep in sudless bathwater is fairly undignified." She smiled wanly as Salem blushed deeply, producing a half-squeak.

"Ah, don't worry about it," the woman—not Rione, then, maybe Rila? Rina?—said. "It's not like we haven't seen bodies before." Her face darkened momentarily. "Most of the time, it's not by choice or love, at least not ours."

She stared off into space, her hands clenching and unclenching slowly. Salem felt deeply unnerved, watching her. "Um…mistress?"

The woman shook herself and gave Salem a distracted smile. "It's Rina. I'm only a few years older than you, so we don't have to get formal here. Well, come on then. Ides would like to speak to you, and hopefully…hopefully he'll be back soon.

As Salem followed Rina out of the room, she was starting to feel increasingly lost and stupid. Where was she? She was in a house of sorts, a bit small for seven people but quite cozy and clean. There were two rooms branching off from the main room and a corridor leading to what probably was a privy. There were windows through which bright sunshine shone, and the door wasn't blocked or nailed over. Wildly, Salem wondered if this was the same building she had entered into only hours before. To distract herself, she asked Rina, "Is Ides the…I don't know, the leader here? If there is a leader?"

Rina seemed grateful for the distraction. "Well, I suppose. He's as close as we'll ever get to a leader…well, along with Talinia, he's always been one of our strongest magickers and he has a few useful contacts in the printing industry. I don't know the extent of what he's done, but believe me, it's a lot." She shrugged and peered out of one of the bright windows. "Ides said he'd be back by now…why don't you wait here? It shouldn't take long."

Salem leaned against the wall as Rina left, carrying a pile of clothes down the corridor. The room was empty of people, but it carried a cheerful air. She looked around, found a chair, and waited.

And waited.

Ides showed no signs of returning. Rina returned after a few minutes, her lovely face showing fear and concern as there was no Ides in the room. "Is he usually punctual?" Salem asked. "I mean, is he on time? What did he say?"

"Oh, I don't know," Rina muttered, looking intently out the window. "He and Matiel left, and Ides said that he'd be back by half past noon. It's got to be at least one o'clock now…" she shook her head and sighed. "I'll go look for them, all right? You stay here."

"But wait!" Salem yelped as Rina put a hand on the doorknob. "Where's everybody else? Ides and, uh, the others?"

Rina sighed. "Serrion died while you were sleeping," she said in a softer voice. "There were some members of the guard coming back to the guardbarracks, and, well…he's been evading capture ever since the routs. It was only a matter of time. They captured him and were about to have a magicker probe him, but he committed suicide. He's hanging on Traitor's Wall right now." She swallowed, then continued. "Gen, he was with Serrion, but as far as we know he managed to escape. We don't know where he is right now. Liane went to find him a couple hours ago. As for Ides and Matiel…" she slammed a hand against the window, her face burning with frustration and anger.

It hit Salem, right then, that Peregrine was serious. Just how serious, she never had fully understood…it had been a minor thing for her, kind of like joining a club. But Peregrine was more than a club—Serrion had died while she was sleeping. Sílica was a matter of life or death. She looked at Rina's face then said carefully, "Don't worry. I'm sure they're fine. Ides is a magicker, after all."

"You think magickers are immortal? It took four people to take down Tria, but she died just like the others. Like Riol. Like Quinden. Like Fyora and Serrion!" Rina took a deep breath, obviously struggling to control herself. Finally, in a calmer voice she said, "I'll wait a few more minutes, all right?" She turned around, her back to Salem, but anyone could tell she was shaking.

Five minutes passed, then ten. Rina seemed to be hesitating, her hands shuffling the same papers over and over, arranging the same blankets in different patterns, lighting candles, blowing them out. Finally, she said in a tight voice, "I'll be going, then," and slammed the door as she went out.

Salem felt adrenaline start to pour in her veins. Where were Matiel and Ides? She stood, half-deciding to follow Rina, then sat back down. Just a few more, she decided uneasily.

It was now one forty-five.

At exactly one forty-nine, the door slammed open. In rushed Liane, carrying Gen, behind her were Ides and Rina. They paid no attention to Salem as they laid Gen on a couch, peeling back his shirt and a rough bandage to reveal a giant, gaping wound in his side. Salem felt bile rise in her throat as she saw it. It was swollen around the edges, with blood leaking out, dripping onto the couch, staining hands and fingers. Gen's eyes were closed, his breath coming with shallow gasps, his face deathly pale.

"Oh, Gen," Rina whispered. "What did you do?"

Ides's face was grim. Taking a deep breath, he laid his hand on the wound and muttered something long and complicated under his breath. There was a moment, then—

Salem's eyes widened as a bright light began to glow, coming from Ides, flowing down his left hand to encircle Gen. Ides staggered, his face tight with the effort. Her face set, Liane reached out and grabbed his right arm, holding him upright.

The light continued to flow. Before their eyes, the flesh began to close up, the muscles replicate…but it was happening so slowly, healing at a snail's pace. Salem's gaze flicked from Ides to the wound to Gen and back to Ides, willing him to hold on, to keep the light flowing. Just a few more inches, she willed. A few more minutes!

Gradually, slowly, the last of the swollen flesh receded and smoothly mended, revealing pink, healthy skin. Ides gasped and fell heavily against Liane as the last of the wound sealed. Carefully, the woman laid Ides against a leg of the sofa and turned back to Gen. "Amazing!" she whispered. "So this is what magic looks like."

Gen was looking much better, the color back into his face and his breathing calmer and steadier. Ides, on the other hand, had fainted. As Rina began to spread blankets to form a makeshift bed for him, Salem suddenly remembered something. "Where's Matiel?"

"Oh…he's out," Liane said evasively. Her gaze flicked to the drying droplets of blood. "I'll go clean this up."

As she returned and began to clean up the blood, Rina straightened. "Ides will survive," she announced. "I've not seen magic worked before, so I don't know what kind of strain it'll be, but his pulse is normal and he hasn't got a fever. I think he just needs a long rest."

"He deserves it," Liane murmured, then looked at Rina with a grin.

Salem was not about to be deterred any further. In a louder voice, she asked, "Where's Matiel?"

Both women paused. Finally, Rina said gently, "He's out. More than that, you don't need to know."

"All right," Salem said glumly after a long silence stretched. "Just one thing…is he out to…I don't know, avenge Serrion or anything? Will he kill people?"

Liane smiled sadly. "That's what Gen probably tried to do, and you see what happened. No, he's gone for another purpose. It'll take a couple hours."

"But—" Salem cut herself off with a sigh. It would only sound petty and whiny if she persisted. Finally, she said, "Is there anything I can do help?"

Rina laughed and exchanged a look with Liane. "There's always chores," she said brightly. "Those always need doing."

Salem considered the prospect, then acquiesced with a groan.

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Murtagh stood in the guardbarracks, facing the soldier. "I don't have time for this,' he said in an irritable growl. "You may contact the emperor if you don't believe me, but I need to see the captain of this patrol and I need to see him now."

"Captain Blackfire has better things to do than talk to you," the man said coldly. "You have no verification to demand such a visit."

Blackfire. What was Salem's name—Blackfire, too? Then the leader of the patrol had to be her brother, the man she had spilled the beans to. Murtagh took a deep breath and was about to speak, but the soldier was still talking. "…you look pretty familiar. Familiar enough to have been the girl's companion."

Murtagh looked the soldier stonily in the eye. "Call the captain," he said quietly but with firm conviction. "All I am asking for is five minutes of his time. If he refuses to see me, then I will accept his decision and leave."

The soldier's expression never wavered for the whole of three slow minutes. Finally, he said with a baleful glare, "Drop all your weapons into a pile. If you're still carrying anything, I'll arrest you."

Murtagh hesitated, then gave a curt nod, laying his sword and boot knives onto the ground. The soldier stepped forward and frisked him. Finding nothing, he gave a nod. "All right, then. Follow me."

They went into the guardtowers, past other hard-faced soldiers and the occasional bewildered civilian. Finally stopping at an oaken door, the soldier pounded twice on it and called, "Captain, a visitor for you."

"Come in, Aynnar," came the reply.

Aynnar entered, opening the door to allow Murtagh in. "This man has no verification or authority, but he wishes to speak to you concerning the patrol sent out last night."

Murtagh shot Aynnar a dirty look, but the soldier's face was staring right ahead, standing solidly at attention. "So," a firm male voice said, "What do you want? What is your name?"

Intelligent gray eyes met Murtagh's own. Both of them recognized the other perfectly and also recognized the need for mutual secrecy. Finally, Murtagh said somberly, "I am Murtagh, sent from the emperor. I need to know the results of the patrol last night."

A long silence stretched. Finally, the captain stood. He was as tall as Murtagh and probably just as battle-hardened. If there were to be a fair fight, it would come close. "All right," he said finally, his voice mild. "But first tell me, what would you do with this information?"

They locked gazes. Murtagh grunted and said after a moment, "I would see if you've caught her. Get a basic bearing on her location."

"Then capture her." The expression on the man's face was perfectly bland, revealing nothing.

Murtagh's jaw clenched. "I would do what your patrol failed to do," he said coldly. "You have no right to pry."

"I see," the captain said softly, then nodded. "Well, aside from the fact you've insulted my men, you'll do." From among the various papers on his desk, he extracted a map. It was a rough draft, messily drawn and with ink blots all over the place. "We tracked her into the slums," he said calmly, "near this intersection." He drew an area that was about four blocks square, then continued, "and that's where we lost her. More than that, I can't say, though it's my suspicion she would continue to stay somewhere in that area."

Murtagh examined the map, then nodded. He straightened. "Thank you. May I keep this map?"

A light smile. "Yes, of course," the captain answered. "I wish you luck on your quest." He sat back down, his hand picking up a quill on his desk. "Aynnar, show our guest out, please."

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I have absolutely phenomenal news—drumroll, please! Dun dun dun! I have made a PLOT!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, an actual plot. A PLOT! Isn't this great? That means I can plan out this story chapter by chapter according to the Plot instead of fumbling around 24/7.

HAHAHAHAA!

Now that I've sobered up a little bit, I have to apologize for this chapter. I know that it's not one of the more interesting ones, but believe me, according to my Plot this story should be heating up pretty soon. All I can say is, keep your eyes open and read carefully. Things aren't always what they seem.

And the other thing I have to say is that the schedule I gave you may not be entirely correct. Just take the numbers with a grain of salt, and don't be surprised if I reach the climax sooner or later than I said.

I know I said I wouldn't use Connac for a bit, and that's true—he'll fade back for a bit. But keep an eye on Ides and Gen—very important!

Okay. Extra note. I'm going around adding dates to all the chapters; they should help everybody (including me) keep track of events. Eragon will stay in Elleméra for roughly nine-and-a-half months, I'm setting the date of the Burning Plains for 9/17/101. Just so you know, in case you work by a different system, the first number is the month, the second the day, and the third is the year, starting from the Fall of the Riders. The Agaetí Blodhren will be set for roughly around 6/30/101 or so; if you have extra information or another date put it into a review (along with the page numbers in Eldest where you found itif you can!) and I'll adjust accordingly. I'll add the dates later, too lazy right now :)

And keep an eye out…I want to go back to Chapter Two and add in a torture scene of Murtagh. Yes, I'm morbid :) I really do think, however, that it would add to the impact of this whole fanfic. So we'll see.

Next week, then!