AnonFanboy: Yep, but he's been a hypocrite before. And it won't be the last time. He's also a bit of an egotistically proud idiot/male sometimes…

Scout out: No problem! And thank you very much!

Tania could tell that Tornac hadn't been ridden in weeks. She had a hard time convincing him that he didn't need to gallop away at full speed into oblivion on their first day of travel; and whenever she did, he only kept that illusion for a few minutes before prancing anxiously once again.

Eragon had asked her as they set out why she wasn't taking Cadoc; she told him curtly that while Cadoc was a good horse, Tornac was a warhorse. "Not only that," she added, "he's Murtagh's warhorse. You take care of Snowfire for Brom, I'll take care of Tornac for him."

As their journey went on, Tania half-unconsciously observed their companions. Hrothgar had sent Orik along with them to have a dwarf as representative, and of course Arya came to lead the way to Ellesméra (Eragon was surprised to learn that Arya didn't eat meat, though she promised that they'd see why once they reached Du Weldenvarden). With only them, Eragon and Saphira in their troupe, Ophelia had seen fit to color herself as she wished: day and night, her scales swirled with vivid scarlets and brilliant golds, while streaks of violet, blue, and a host of a thousand other colors danced across her wings. The dragoness made no argument when any of their companions bade her exclamations of awe and wonder.

Well, the non-dragons did, at any rate. Saphira would simply sniff haughtily whenever Ophelia received such compliments (though Tania saw a touch of pride in the blue dragon's eye when she lit their evening fire, and heard Ophelia grumble about it jealously).

And so passed their two days in the long tunnel beneath the mountains, before they were greeted with blinding sunlight on the far side. Ophelia had instinctively almost melted into the walls once the great doors were dragged open, and her sudden disappearance briefly spooked Tornac. Tania reined him in before he could go running off, pausing to get a good look at their surroundings.

They stood on a granite outcropping, hundreds of feet above a lake that seemed to have been filled with diamonds instead of water under the eastern sun. Like Kóstha-mérna before Farthen Dûr, the water filled the valley from mountain to mountain. From the far end of the lake, the Az Ragni flowed north between the great peaks until—too far for them to see—it rushed out onto the eastern plains.

To their right, the mountains were bare save a few trails, but to their left… to the left lay the dwarf city of Tarnag. What had seemed like hard and fast stone had been carved into terraces, like great stairs leading up the mountain. The lower terraces were farmlands, the dark fields bare and waiting for new growth, dotted with squat gray halls made entirely of stone. Above those levels rose interlocking chains of buildings that seemed to form a stairwell up to a grand crown of a gold-white dome, shining like polished pearls and moonstones.

Orik seemed to anticipate their questions, saying, "That is Celbedeil, the greatest temple of dwarfdom and home of Dûrgrimst Quan—the Quan clan—who act as servants and messengers to the gods."

Do they rule Tarnag? asked Saphira. Eragon repeated the query.

"Nay," said Arya, stepping past them. "Though the Quan are strong, they are small in numbers, despite their powers over the afterlife… and gold. It is the Ragni Hefthyn—the River Guard—who control Tarnag. We will stay with their clan chief, Ûndin, while here."

Tania was surprised that Eragon was surprised. That day in the library, she'd found an ancient map of the Beors, and the dwarf cities—most of which weren't still standing, or had been rebuilt elsewhere—had been labeled, as well as the clans that ruled them. While it was outdated, Orik had confirmed of four cities—including Tarnag—that remained the same. She'd assumed that she'd shown him, but apparently either she hadn't… or she had and he'd forgotten.

Arya led the way down off the outcropping and through the gnarled forest that blanketed the foothills as Ophelia took to the skies above them, shifting from gray to gray-green to cerulean as she winged high into the air above the treetops and past the mountain that they had emerged from. Take care of yourselves, she warned. I'm going hunting.

Good luck, Tania replied. She pulled away from their connection as Ophelia got quickly out of reach on swift wings, coming back to herself in time to hear Orik finish his sentence, "…a quarrel fierce enough to scare a Kull."

"Arya?" Eragon asked.

Orik nodded grimly. "I know little of it, but I've heard she disagrees strongly with much that the Quan practice. It seems that elves do not hold strongly to 'muttering into the air for help.'"

"And why should they?" Tania queried. "They're a very practical race that believes in hard fact. Keeping faith in gods you cannot see, hear, smell or touch is a foreign concept to them. If a stranger came striding into your home, proclaiming that their gods were the true gods of the universe, would you immediately fall to your knees and pray to these strange gods you've never heard of? Or would you challenge them for proof of their claim?"

For a moment, there was silence as Eragon and Orik stared with wide-eyed incredulity. Then, just as Tania started to grow uncomfortable in the queer quiet, the dwarf roared with laughter that seemed too loud for his short frame. Ahead of them, Tania noticed Arya glance back at the noise, frowning slightly, as Orik struggled to regain his composure. "The words of a scholar and a diplomat from the mouth of a woodsgirl!" he exclaimed between chuckles. "You would make a fine ambassador amongst the rulers of both our races. Tell me, where did you learn of that comparison?" he asked.

"My mother knew the subject quite well," Tania explained. "It's been nearly ten years, but I've held onto what wisdoms I could remember. A few have saved my life in the past; knowing how to calm a feud between a dwarf and an elf over religious matters may do the same one day."

Orik nodded. "It just might."

…an entire chapter… from one page of Eldest. *facepalm*

Fate