Author's Note: Hey all. I've been getting some reviews like "Hey, Rune's romance with both Sunboy and Eragon is kinda getting on my nerves" Well, she's going to make a choice. Eventually. But see, her choice is worked into the plotline, so I just have to keep her the way she is for now. If I tend to make her closer to Eragon at one point, I'll probably make up for it in another chapter with Sunboy. So…basically, what I'm saying is this: Rune will choose, but not for quite a while. Kinda towards the end of the story you'll start seeing a trend in her affections, but for now they're just going to have to share. Hearts, Kit-Kat

Rune held Freoh close, standing as tall as she could at the end of the line of slaves. Tawnyclaw sat proudly on her shoulder.

What do you suppose will happen to us? She asked him as she watched the market people warily. She hadn't yet located the woman with honey hair.

Live. He said. Fly again.

Yes, I suppose. But will we ever get back to the Varden?

He eyed her, looking annoyed. Then he shrugged with his good wing. Know not. Hope.

She sighed and turned her attention back to the people. They were chatting quietly among themselves, pointing at certain slaves in Hane's lineup. Rune shivered.

Hane unhooked Tarn from the chain first, pushing him forward into the center of the circle.

"Look at him!" Hane called. "Strong as an ox, he is!"

One man stepped forward, handing Tarn's arms, inspecting his muscles. Tarn kept his eyes cast downwards.

"He speaks common," Hane continued. "Not that he has much to say. Bidding starts at 75 crowns! 75 crowns! I'm sorry to let him go, really, especially for that price. But they all must sell!"

The man who had inspected Tarn shook his head, backing up.

"I'll give 75 crowns for him!"

"85!"

The bidding went up to 100 crowns, and Tarn was led away in chains by his new master, an older man with sharp eyes.

Just before he was out of sight, Tarn turned and winked at Rune. Rune realized she would miss him, with his quiet, simple strength. She smiled back.

Súndavar shifted beside her, his chained hand rubbing against her hip. It was a small gesture, but Rune smiled.

I love you too, she told him silently.

He shivered with pleasure, and Rune knew it was all he could do to keep still. Tawnyclaw hissed at him.

Heart! He cried in Rune's mind. Bad blood boy.

He is not! He's sweet and I love him, thank you very much.

Tawnyclaw tightened his claws on her shoulder, so hard a drop of blood spread on the thin fabric of her tunic. Danger. Evil.

Hmph, she said, cutting the bird out. Súndavar wasn't evil. Tawnyclaw was just a bird. What did he know?

She kissed Freoh's forehead and rocked him. But something that Tawnyclaw had said rang in her mind. She shivered.

Ieran.

The Shade. Whose side was he on? Rune couldn't tell. He hadn't hurt her, and he had given her advice, but how was she to know? He could be working with Galbatorix.

She focused her sorrel-leaf eyes on Súndavar, admiring the way he looked in the sunlight. His deep evergreen eyes, light skin, strong jaw…

Ieran.

Rune shivered and pushed the image of the Not There Man from her dream memory away. Despite the fact he had helped her, he frightened her.

Before she knew what was happening, Rune was pushed forward. She stumbled, narrowly managing to catch her balance.

"I'm asking 450 crowns for her and her nephew together," Hane called. "She's innocent. Pretty enough to be a bed slave, or a servant, if you wish. She'd be a good lady's maid. Never whipped or touched by my men." He grinned. "You'll have your hands full, though. She curses King Galbatorix in her sleep. A devil, she is."

"A pretty devil!" a man in the crowd called, and Rune felt a blush rising to her face. She bit back tears, feeling like a rug on display at a merchant's stand.

"Aye, that she is!"

Hane smiled wider with the good half of his face. "I throw the bird in for free. He's trained well enough, and won't leave her."

Tawnyclaw bristled at being called trained. He bunched his shoulder muscles and shot like a barrel off Rune's shoulder, straight at Hane's head.

Hane screamed in surprise. Tawnyclaw swooped up just at the last moment, his talons missing Hane's mutilated flesh by millimeters. He did a tight aerial flip and landed on Rune's outstretched arm.

The potential buyers laughed. In truth, none of them much liked Hane. He was pushy and often cheated, whether it be in his merchandise or at a game of dice in the pubs. Seeing the slaver squeal made everyone's day.

Rune kissed Tawnyclaw's beak, smiling. That was amazing, Tawnyclaw.

Fear not.

Hane frowned, recovering. "There is a warning, however. It's nothing, really. Makes her and the child more valuable, in the long run…" he trailed off, leaving the audience waiting expectantly.

"What?" the cried as one.

"Aw, it's nothing much…"

"What?"

He flashed them a glance. "They're fay."

The market goers gasped.

"500 crowns!"

"550!"

Rune glanced wildly around for the honey-haired woman. It was all a bustle. People were calling out numbers faster than Rune could keep track of them. People didn't pay that much for a maid. She shivered, knowing where the night was going to end.

No, she urged herself. I'll be okay.

Body, not mind, Tawnyclaw reminded.

You're right. No matter how they violate my body, my mind is mine forever, she said.

But that was a difficult argument to stick to, even in her own heart.

Then Rune saw her.

The honey haired woman was beautiful, her gentle eyes staring out. She was frowning softly. The fat man showed himself beside her, a good inch shorter and countless pounds heavier.

Rune met her eyes. How to make her understand?

The bidding was at 600 crowns. Rune's mind was racing.

Finally, she knew what to do. It wasn't a good idea, but she couldn't think of anything else to try.

She had seen the symbol countless times in her early life. The venomous dragon, dripping poison, curled around a sword. She scratched a rough estimation of it in the dusty ground.

Galbatorix's crest.

The honey haired woman saw it.

In a single swipe of her toe, Rune wiped the image clean through the middle. Then, without stopping to think if it was a good idea, she wrote a single word – Nightstalker. It remained written on the ground for only a moment. In the bidding fervor, no one else saw it.

Rune wiped out the word and looked at the honey haired woman. Her eyes were wide with recognition.

With incredible elegance, she moved through the crowd. They parted like the waters of Leona Lake, smoothly stepping away from her with respect.

She eyed Rune, and Rune returned her gaze strongly.

"What is your name?"

A thousand fake names spun through Rune's head. She could use any of them.

"Rune," she said.

The woman blinked, then looked at Hane.

"I will pay 1000 crowns for her," she said.

Hane opened his mouth, then shut it, thinking better than to push his deal.

"Very well, Lady Keladry," Hane said. "Sold, to Lady Keladry for 1000 crowns."

The people didn't grumble.

"Which other slaves do you want me to buy?" Keladry asked in a whisper.

Rune frowned. "What?"

Keladry narrowed her eyes. "I'm here to buy slaves," she said. "Which others do you want me to buy?"

Keorg – er, Ieran – had told Rune that the honey haired woman would get her back where she belonged. She hoped that applied to Eragon and the others as well.

She pointed them out.

Keladry relayed her choices to Hane. "Name your price for the lot," she said. "Those are the ones I want."

Hane sputtered for words. Finally he managed. "Five thousand crowns."

The market goers groaned. The price was ridiculous, and even Hane knew it. But Keladry dropped a bag of gold in his hands.

"Unhook them," she demanded.

One of Hane's fellow slavers moved and pushed all her choices forward. Kel smiled.

"Thank you."

Eragon met Rune's eyes. What did you do?

She sent him a mixture of loving, affirmative colors, wishing he wasn't chained so he could slip one arm around her waist. She glanced at Súndavar and sighed.

Tawnyclaw glanced at Kel, then at Rune.

Savoir, he said simply.

Yes. Ieran came through.

Tawnyclaw hissed at the mention of Ieran. Bad man.

Yes and no. He helped me.

Bad blood. Bad man.

Rune pushed him off her shoulder. He landed on it again.

You're just like Vanir, she grumbled. You can't see past your own beak far enough to see that it isn't the blood that makes the heart.

Tawnyclaw shrugged his one wing. Bad blood, he said again.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Slate?

Slate blinked groggily at Saphira. Huh?

She licked his snout to rouse him. He groaned and rolled over. What do you want, Saphira? It's the middle of the light.

The sun shone brightly in the sky. Matrix slept nearby, her wine colored scales glittering in the light like stars.

Slate got to his feet to look at Saphira. Saphira? Are you okay?

She nodded. I…I wanted to talk to you.

About what?

She turned away, as if embarrassed.

He nudged her flank. About what, Saphira? You can always tell me anything. You know that.

Well…I wanted to talk to you, but I'm not sure what about. I just thought we needed to talk. That probably sounds silly.

Slate shook his head. If you want to talk, then may I listen until my ears fall out of my head from overuse.

She laughed a dragon laugh. Thank you.

He shrugged his wings. Saphira, you don't need to thank me. You are my best friend in the world over, Shadow not included, of course. Anything that makes you happy makes me happy as well. He licked her snout tenderly, feeling a shiver go through her body as her scales rested against him.

Once I thought Glaedr was my true love, Saphira said out of the blue. I don't think so anymore.

What changed your mind?

Saphira met his eyes, and Slate knew. He turned away, too frightened to respond.

Saphira changed the subject quickly. What of Matrix? She asked. I bet she's old enough to have mated with Glaedr.

I can't see Glaedr liking a dragon like Matrix, Slate said. He seems more proper, whereas she's as wild as the fire and wind she says we all come from.

I think she's right, said Saphira. I believe her story.

I'd like to think it is real, Slate said. It's a wonderful tale. To think we had such a noble beginning. Dragons are blessed, Saphira.

She laid her head on his neck, between his spines. Slate?

Yes?

Would you…would you ever consider becoming—

What dost thy speak of in daylight, small ones? Matrix asked.

Saphira broke off, eyes flying to the bigger, fierce dragon. Matrix's cold, calculating eyes stared back at her.

Nothing.

Matrix shrugged. If it was nothing thy spoke of, thy would be silent, she said.

We're talking about what you said, Slate answered truthfully. About dragons beginning when the wind and the fire forgot they were enemies.

I see, she said.

We think it's true.

Matrix laid down in the sand across from them. Why dost thee think this way? She asked. Surely thy dost not depend on the words of my mouth to alter your thoughts?

Slate frowned. Didn't you tell us they were true?

That I did. But only a fool puts faith in every word.

Saphira cocked her head. You mean we can't trust you?

Thy can give to me thou trust if thee wishes to, Matrix said. But believing words simply because they are spoken is the cause for many a fall.

Slate thought about that for a moment. In her own fierce way, Matrix was very wise.

Matrix, how old are you?

She blinked. I have not counted my years.

Why? Saphira asked, surprised. Don't you wonder how long you've lived?

Matrix raised one eyebrow. I do not. For what is time to an ageless one? No matter the number of my years, I have lived them nonetheless.

Saphira frowned at this.

We should fly, Matrix said. Time is not of consequence to dragons. But your hearts grow heavy with each moment separated from those who you are bound to.

She spit the words with something like disgust.

Neither Slate or Saphira spoke until they were in the air.

Saphira, what was it you were asking me? Slate asked. Before Matrix woke up?

Saphira met his eyes, then looked away.

Oh, it was nothing.