Elaina's POV

We had decided to make way with all possible haste towards Bullridge, and I could see with each passing day Arya and Brom's health deteriorated. We had no way of getting them to eat and they were dwindling. I was wary of our new companion Murtagh. I remembered those eyes, how they had followed us in Teirm, and a sense of familiarity hung around him though I couldn't quite place it. Eragon and Saphira had told me of how he had come to their aid, but his motives had yet to be discussed at length.

I couldn't bring myself to let Eragon get too close, and I could see how the distance pained him. I longed to reach out for him, for his comforting hugs, or just simply to lean into him but I found myself repulsed by the idea. What would he think of me if he could see my mind? These wild rushing thoughts kept passing through and I was terrified that if he ever found out all the things that had happened in those dark walls I would find myself truly alone in the world. As alone as I could be any more at least, I thought, feeling Lavinia's cool, soothing mental presence surrounding my mind like a balm.

Saphira had been trying her hardest to make friends with the young dragon, reaching out to her from high in the clouds where she carried our wounded. Lavinia rarely responded, and I understood her trepidation. The only person she had the first month of her life that had feelings that were remotely positive was me. Every other person had wanted to use her, or hurt her and hadn't seen her as a sentient being. She didn't know what it was to trust or have people she could rely on. Instead of giving in to Saphira's attempts at friendliness or Eragon's mild chatter, she hovered as close to me as she possibly could, and like me, distant from the others.

Flying low to the ground, her wide wings made little sound. She had continued to grow at a far faster rate than Saphira had. The older dragon was nearing seven months old now, and while Lavinia was only a month and a half old she was already a third of Saphira's size. The rows of lighter scales on her sides from the scars were darkening slightly now as she grew, but I was still able to pick them out against her hide and still could clearly remember the anguish we had both felt when they were inflicted.

Rather quickly I cut off that train of thought, knowing how stressful it would be to relive those anguished moments. Our path was bringing us toward the desert, instead of toward Feinster as we had originally planned. I had hoped I might see my sister in the near future but I could only imagine how that reunion would go. All I could do was wish for her and her child's safety and continue on. We stayed lower on the hills following the river but didn't stray too close, wary of travelers who would be following the same path. In the distance on the other side of the hills, we occasionally caught glimpses of the Hadarac's unforgiving sweeps of sandy dunes. We needed to get medicine and supplies before the stretch of the trip where we crossed the imposing desert. I had little hope that either of our downed companions would wake before our crossing. It was a few weeks' journeys across the desert to the place the Varden was rumored to be hiding.

Farthen Dur, a tall mountain within the Beor range whose peak had been rumored to be shorn off by an ancient dragon whose size had rivaled that of the mountain. Brom had spoken of it briefly before he had fallen into a fevered state, but it had been confirmed when Eragon had another dream sent by Arya. She had shown him a vision of a small valley with a river leading to a lake and waterfall. The vision had ended there but we had decided it was the closest we would ever get without further guidance.

"How much farther do you think it is before we reach Bullridge?" Eragon's voice broke our silence, aside from the beat of the horses' hooves. Murtagh turned his head slightly back toward us, sparing a short glance through greasy hair.

"It has been a week and a half since Gil'ead and judging by our pace and where we are in the hills, I would say another three days' journey."

"Have you traveled this way before then?" Eragon asked, sounding more curious than anything. It was a gentle nudge in the direction of understanding our new companion and I briefly hoped he would give an honest answer.

"A time or two," he said, voice gruff and sad, readjusting himself in his saddle he did not look back once more. "There is a shop there where we should find medicinal supplies easily enough. Maybe we could even find a tanner to make you a saddle for your girl. If she continues growing at this rate, you'll be able to ride her by the time we are making our crossing," He said, gesturing at Lavinia over his shoulder.

Good, easier to get away from trouble, better in a fight. Her low voice rumbled through my head and I couldn't help but agree. Maybe we build a sled that Saphira and I can pull to move us faster. She said this to the larger audience, and the idea wasn't a terrible one. The faster we could get to Farthen Dur the better, but I dismissed the idea once I thought about the terrain we would still need to cross after the Hadarac.

We all thought of the possibilities of what would happen after we crossed the desert and soon the sun began to sink low over the hills to our right. We settled in a copse of trees at the foot of the hills, far from the path of the road to avoid travelers. Saphira had found the spot earlier, just big enough for the four horses and two dragons to fit without being too cramped. I sighed in relief when I climbed down from the saddle, patting Tarpin's neck softly. My limbs quaked with stiffness as I tried to limber myself against the ache of riding for hours, and I could see Murtagh off to the side beginning to set up camp.

Once the wounded had been settled into their bedrolls near a fire and a meager supper of cooked rabbits and roots had been eaten, Ery walked over to me with his blade in hand.

"Nina, I think Brom would want us to continue our training, with or without him. Come on, I just read a note Brom had made in his pack about how to dull a blade with magic so we can spar," he held his hand out to help me up from where I sat against Lavinia who puffed some smoke out of her nostrils. I sighed and nodded, accepting his extended hand and pushing myself off the ground.

He said a few words in the ancient language and ran his hand along his blade. Then, with the spell complete he tested the blade against a thin branch of a nearby tree. Satisfied with the results, he showed me how to do the same on my own blade. To both of our surprise, Murtagh too came and joined us away from the fire, claiming it wouldn't do to let his own skills dull. Plus it would do both of us good to have a new opponent to face off with, who fought in a completely different style from either of us. While Murtagh and Eragon's weapons were similar in length, the sword Murtagh used was much thicker. Eragons blade was slimmer and lighter, better for his inexperienced muscles to wield.

We worked for a few hours, until the light had faded from the sky entirely, occasionally teaming up two on one or just letting it devolve into an all-out brawl. I tried to lose myself in the old familiarity of training and found it wasn't so difficult. In fact, after I had gritted my teeth at a particularly painful whack from Murtagh's sword, I had a small smile on my face. It was a vicious one, not purely happy, but it felt nice to be getting into better spirits and letting my troubles go a bit.

Eventually, we all settled back down, all of us counting new bruises and aches, though I thought Murtagh didn't look nearly as stiff as Eragon or myself, we settled in to sleep for the night. I found myself once more curled against my dragon with her head tucked under my arm.

The next three days continued in this fashion until the town finally came into view and the dragons flew over the hills in the night to wait for us by the desert where we would begin the long crossing.

The people of the town were, as we had seen time and again, weary of travelers and strangers, but once we had shown the shopkeep our gold-laden pockets, courtesy of Jeod, he had obliged our request for supplies and told us where we could find a place to stay the night while he readied our rather large order. We thanked the burly man before leaving and following his directions to a tavern nearby. The building was larger than many on the street and was in fact one of the largest buildings we had seen in the town yet. It was two stories, and windows were scattered across the side we could see, candles lit in each against the coming night. We had decided to come under our normal guise, and Murtagh had easily decided to play along as Evan's brother. It was almost believable if it wasn't for the fact that Murtagh had darker coloring and a much stockier build.

I grasped Eragon's hand, putting a light smile on my face, trying to cover the slight discomfort at touching someone, and walked through the door he held open for me. The low chatter of the room greeted us as we entered, the tavern feeling much livelier than the streets did at this time of night. One of the barmaids was even keening in an uneven voice, a song in another language, her dark hair bobbing around her head wildly as she danced while continuing to work. The smile on my face felt more genuine as I settled into the easy atmosphere, and we found a spot at the bar rail to speak with one of the crew. Then from behind, we heard a vaguely familiar voice call out to us.

"Evan? Elise?" I spun around, only to come face to face with the amicable soldier we had met in Teirm.

"Emmett!" Eragon exclaimed in surprise. "Fancy seeing you here. Come back to visit your family, or are you here on orders?" Emmett laughed freely in the same carefree way he had in Teirm.

"Both. The king wanted a new garrison set up here and needed to promote a few soldiers. They made me a Lieutenant and gave me a chapter to train here. I was happy to take up the post to be able to keep an eye on my sister and mother here at home. The pay raise was pretty nice too," he said, smiling cheekily and flipping a coin. "Can I buy y'all a round of drinks? What are you all doing here?" He asked, switching gears. The server came by and set down the round of drinks and collected his coin before he fired off again. "Did you get your mother taken care of alright girlie?"

"She is doing well thanks," I said. "We are heading back down to see her now, she has ended up with my own sister in Feinster. We just stopped here tonight to resupply before headed out in the morning." He nodded along easily and seemed to genuinely be glad to hear that my family had found safety. Upon hearing that we would be staying the night he perked up once more.

"Well, we don't have too much extra space, but if it would save you the coin you are more than welcome to stay in my family home until you depart in the morning. We have a small stable for the horses and can see them fed for you," he offered kindly, and before Murtagh or I could open our mouths to protest Eragon had accepted.

This boy is too naive sometimes... Murtagh's thoughts crossed my mind and I couldn't help but agree.

The two younger boys chatted with each other happily as we led the horses across town to Emmett's family home. We were greeted by his mother Patricia and his sister Emilia. Patricia was a short woman, with thin blonde hair and blue eyes that showed with mirth. At the corners of her eyes were defined crow's feet, and laugh lines sank in around her lips. Emilia was probably around twelve, and just beginning to blossom into a lovely young woman with her mother's blue eyes and beautiful bright red hair plaited into a long braid like my own. She seemed excited to have another girl in the house and she quickly offered to brush my hair as we followed them into the house.

His mother took a spot in front of a warm hearth in a rocking chair, much like my mother used to. It made me smile softly at the good memories, and I sat on the ground across from her with Emilia in a chair behind me. The boys went into the stable to settle the horses in and didn't return for a long while. Patricia took up a knitting project and chatted lightly at me about the weather and a few recipes she wanted to try with the harvest that would be coming in the approaching fall. I had seen their garden in the front, which for a house inside of a town was quite impressive. Occasionally, Emilia would pipe in from behind me where her skilled fingers worked through my wind-tangled hair and I found myself once more reminded of the days when my mother, Sara, and I had found ourselves in much similar conversations and comforts. I let myself flow in the conversation and gave light answers whenever one of them addressed me directly, otherwise content to let their soothing presence wash over me.

Eragon smiled lightly at me when he came in, seeing the genuine look on my face and he rested a hand on my shoulder before saying he was going to grab our sleeping rolls. We would be camping out in the living room, as there were only three small bedrooms in this house that were already occupied. I was just grateful we weren't spending another lump of money to stay at the inn in town.

When the conversation had died down and enough yawns had been had, Patricia had herded her kids to their rooms, telling them we would need our rest before our journey began again tomorrow. She said she would likely leave to run a few errands before we awoke, and that she was glad to have been able to help us for the short time she had. With that, Eragon, Murtagh, and I all curled into our bedrolls in the warm room and drifted to sleep for the night.

The sun woke us the following morning, coming through the pane of glass over the table and we begrudgingly got up and began repacking. We said a quick goodbye to Emmett, wishing him luck with his new promotion, and headed back to the shop from the day before to collect our order. We paid without a hitch and made our way back out of town, across the hills, and stood facing the desert, about to begin the longest and most exhaustive part of the entire journey.