Hey, I'm back =D. Let's get started then, shall we? Hang on, wait, no, I am NOT the ultimate fan-torturer known as Christopher Paolini, I don't make you wait multiple years to see another chapter =) Though I do apologize for leaving it so long. I am so sorry, I have no excuse, I am a horrible, miserable excuse for an author… please forgive me…

They forced themselves to rise early in the predawn hours. Tania breathed in the fresh, cool air, similar to early spring up north. Meanwhile, Eragon shivered in the cool air as he asked, "How are we going to transport the elf? She can't ride on Saphira much longer or she'll get sores from Saphira's scales. Saphira can't carry her in her claws—it tires her and makes landing dangerous. A sledge won't work; it would get battered to pieces while we ride, and I don't want the horses slowed by another person."

Tania tilted her head as she watched Murtagh consider the matter. "If you rode Saphira we could lash the elf onto Snowfire, but we'd have the same problem with sores."

Tania spoke up then. "What if we lashed her onto Saphira's belly? If soldiers shoot at her, she could easily fly above them."

Eragon and Saphira blinked at her. Tania frowned. "What?"

Tania heard Ophelia chuckle. I believe Saphira said the same thing. Tania looked at the blue dragoness, eyebrow raised in question. Saphira nodded.

Tania blinked. "Well then, let's get started!"

Eragon smiled and grabbed his blanket, wrapping it around the elf like a cloak. Sheets, shirts and tunics were sacrificed to make ropes; these they wound around Saphira's chest and in-between her legs, safely securing the elf. Eragon looked critically at their handiwork. "I'm afraid your scales may run through the ropes."

"We'll have to check them occasionally for fraying," commented Murtagh. Tania nodded.

"Shall we go now?" Eragon asked.

Murtagh's eyes sparked dangerously, surprising Tania. He glanced back the way they had come, where smoke from the soldiers' camps was clearly visible, and said, "I always did like races."

"And now we are in one for our lives!" Eragon exclaimed.

Murtagh swung into Tornac's saddle and trotted out of the camp. Tania and Eragon followed close behind on Cadoc and Snowfire respectively as Saphira jumped into the air with the elf, flying low to the ground to avoid being seen as Tania felt Ophelia take to the air, her camouflaged wings' noise covered by Saphira's. In this fashion, they made their way toward the distant Hadarac Desert.

Both Tania and Eragon kept quick, watchful eyes out for pursuers as they rode, Tania conversing with Ophelia most of the time for the bird's-eye view. She was hopeful. Tania suddenly realized she hadn't felt that for the longest time; living wild had torn that from her. Ever since meeting Brom, Eragon, Saphira and especially Murtagh, she had started to feel it more.

It was a nice feeling.

For the rest of the day, their party sped through the land, ignoring discomfort and fatigue, driving the horses as hard as they could without killing them. Occasionally they dismounted and ran alongside the horses to give them a rest, but only stopping twice—both times to let the horses eat and drink.

Though the soldiers of Gil'ead were far behind now, Eragon, Murtagh and Tania found themselves having to avoid new soldiers every time they passed a town or a village. Twice they were nearly ambushed along the trail, escaping only because Ophelia caught sight of the men before they reached them—though they told Murtagh that Saphira had scented them.

Dusk softened the countryside as evening drew its star-studded blue-black veil across the sky, Ophelia's scales shifting to blend into it. Through the night they traveled, relentlessly pacing themselves throughout the miles. In the deepest hours of the night, when everything else seemed so still and the night creatures came out, the ground rose below them to form cactus-dotted hills—which, when she saw them through Ophelia's eyes, Tania wondered for a moment what in the world they were. There weren't very many of them up in the north.

Murtagh pointed forward. "There's a town, Bullridge, some leagues ahead that we must bypass. They're sure to have soldiers watching for us. We should try to slip past them now while it's still dark."

Tania nodded in agreement. "They might be expecting that," she cautioned.

He shrugged. "That's just a risk we'll have to take." Tania grinned wryly at that.

After a few hours they saw the straw-yellow lanterns of Bullridge. A web of soldiers patrolled between watchfires scattered around the town. Eragon and Murtagh muffled their sword sheathes and they all dismounted, leading the horses in a wide detour around the town, Tania keeping an open connection with Ophelia and listening attentively so they didn't stumble on an encampment.

With the town behind them, they all relaxed slightly. Daybreak finally flooded the sky with its rich violets and blushing dusted pinks, warming the chilled air around them as they halted on the crest of a hill to observe their surroundings. The Ramr River was to their left, but also five miles to their right as it continued south for several leagues, then doubled back on itself in a narrow loop before curving west. They had covered sixteen leagues in one day.

Eragon leaned against Snowfire's neck, obviously pleased with the distance they had covered. "Let's find a gully or hollow where we can sleep undisturbed," he suggested. Tania yawned in agreement, chuckling silently at Ophelia's mental, Hear! hear!

They stopped at a small band of juniper trees and laid their blankets beneath them, Tania pausing a moment to breathe in the fresh scent of the pines. Saphira waited patiently as they untied the elf from her belly, before settling down as the blurred, camouflaged shape of Ophelia nestled beside her. Tania smiled in the dragons' direction.

"I'll take the first watch and wake you at midmorning," said Murtagh, setting his bare sword across his knees. Tania gave him a grateful look as Eragon mumbled his assent, pulling his blankets over his shoulders.

Nightfall found them worn and drowsy—though Tania, having lived feral for most of her life, felt it less than her companions—but determined to continue. As they prepared to leave, Eragon frowned as Saphira grumbled worriedly.

"What's wrong?" Murtagh asked over Tornac's back.

"The elf," said Eragon, looking down at her. "Saphira is troubled that she hasn't woken or eaten; it disturbs me too. I healed her wounds, at least on the surface, but it doesn't seem to have done much good."

"Maybe the Shade tampered with her mind," suggested Murtagh.

"Then we should help her."

Murtagh knelt by the elf as Tania looked on, briefly glancing toward the woods as Ophelia too the opportunity to take to the air. He examine her intently before shaking his head and standing. "As far as I can tell, she's only sleeping. It seems as if I can wake her with only a word or a touch, yet she slumbers on. Her coma may be something elves self-induce to escape the pain of injury, but if so, why doesn't she wake? There's no danger to her now."

"But does she know that?" asked Eragon quietly.

Murtagh put a hand on his shoulder, and Tania was struck by the brotherliness of the gesture. "This must wait," he said. "We have to leave now or risk losing our hard-won lead. You can tend to her later when we stop."

"ONe thing first," said Eragon. He soaked a rag, then squeezed the cloth so water dripped between the elf's sculpted lips. He did that several times, before dabbing her forehead, a strange look on his face.

Oh… my gods… the 'brotherliness' comment actually nearly brought me to tears… I have missed Alagaësia! I didn't realize how much until I wrote that… oh my goodness… *sways from the force of the feels-train*

Please review. Please. Whether it's you as the reader reprimanding me for being late or agreeing with my feelings, just please. I beg you, write something and click that button.

Fate