The first thought that sprung to Eragon's mind was to run into the palace and figure out what had happened. He promptly dropped the log he'd been carrying and dashed out to save the day—or, rather, he tried to. Saphira hooked him around the chest with a massive claw and drew him in close to her before he could get anywhere.

What was that for? Eragon spluttered angrily in his mind.

You've had enough adventuring for one day, Saphira scolded gently.

But they—

The soldiers and guards, who were standing by, waiting to take over if the original ones began to falter, are probably already there, Saphira explained patiently. You are worn out by the preparations to go to Helgrind, and you've exhausted yourself further with this battle. Rest. Let others take care of this.

Still, I wish I knew what was happening, Eragon muttered, sulking.

Saphira made her peculiar rumbling sound in her throat that served as laughter, and said playfully, You need to be in the middle of everything to be happy, don't you?

Yes. More laughter.

Eragon craned his neck to see if he could catch a glimpse of the goings on in the palace, but whatever was happening was out of sight. He fingered the hilt of the sword he'd been given until he could outfit himself with one of his own, edgy. Just because Saphira forbade him to seek out a fight didn't mean that he should let his guard down—it could move outside, and Eragon would have to defend himself, whatever it was.

"Do you think we should bother trying to keep out of the flower beds?" Roran gasped as he struggled under the weight of an enormous tree limb.

With a distracted look, Eragon appraised the state of the beds. The few flowers that clung stubbornly to their soil were limp and bedraggled. "It's only more trouble to go around—go ahead and walk through," he directed, and hoisted the other end of the branch onto his shoulder, helping Roran get it into the burn pile.

"I wouldn't worry about getting this into a neat mound if I were you," said a cruel, mocking voice from behind Eragon. He refrained from shuddering, and turned around to face the girl.

"Yes?"

"The arsonists that the guards rounded up earlier were actually Ra'zac, in a disguise that is unnaturally good," Elva stated simply.

"What?!" Energy flowed through the Rider, revitalizing his sore muscles.

"Before you dash off to fight the forces of evil, listen," Elva warned. "The Ra'zac have evolved to hunt humans. They are physically superior to you in your current state." Anger sparked at this, but Eragon doused it before it rose to the surface. What she said was true. "They plan to torch the whole palace before they're slain, so it won't make much difference if these twigs are strewn about or nice and tidy. I suggest that you get out."

Eragon shrugged, and shifted on his feet before ordering loudly, "Everyone, grab valuables and leave as quickly as you can. The palace is going up in flames." Roran caught his eye and gave a questioning gaze, but Eragon hid his face. He knew that this would only delay rescuing Katrina. Instead, he told Saphira, Wait for me here. I'm going to get a few things from my rooms before we get out of here just yet.

Don't do anything melon headed, she cautioned.

Eragon nodded, and pulled strength from the dying vegetation around him. The lives flickering out pained him, but he needed to be at the peak of performance, and if Elva's prediction came true, they would be burnt to a crisp shortly. He barely noticed the shudders and gasps from the people surrounding him at the sudden death of the plant life as he threw his mind out in front of him as a vast web. Members of Du Vangr Gata, who'd become familiar with the contact of his mind lately, pestered him with questions, but he directed them all to Trianna. Eragon noted a magician shielding his mind from him, but Eragon easily thwarted his defenses and discovered that he had covered the Ra'zac with an illusion as they entered the palace. Eragon slew him with one of the killing words, and expanded his range. At last, two alien minds slid under his radar, and Eragon headed in that direction.

As Eragon rounded the corner, he collided with a bloody soldier slumped on the ground. He drew in a sharp breath as he examined the body. Aside from the wound on his sword arm, a peppering of small cuts on his face were surrounded with peculiar burns that Eragon recognized as the effects of SLITHR OIL. Eragon reached out with his mind to touch a healer's, and told them to expect another wave of soldiers. If the Ra'zac could waste SLITHR OIL on this nameless guard, surely there must be a lot. A map of the palace floor and all of its weaknesses and strengths appeared in Eragon's mind as he dashed through the corridors towards his foes. There wasn't much room to maneuver in the hall to come, but just beyond it was a broad alcove that gave enough space to put up a good defense. Even better, that portion was continually bathed in light from every angle, which gave an immense advantage over the Ra'zac. He could feel two strange consciousnesses coming closer as he ran in their direction, but they were coming too fast—they were coming his direction.

Eragon considered his situation: should he lead them closer to the armory only a few yards behind him, or engage them further towards the alcove? To be sure, the armory had plenty of floor space, but also held plenty of potential weapons that could easily be tipped on him or the Ra'zac. Eragon was sure of his reflexes when he was fresh, but after exhausting himself against the Lethrblaka, he couldn't trust them to dodge a heavy suit of armor in time. Besides that, there would be men who didn't possess his elfin abilities. Yes, it would be best to meet them near the alcove.

Eragon put on an extra burst of speed, and rushed around a corner to come face to face with a terrified soldier. Eragon whirled to the side and lashed out with his sword at the Ra'zac pursuing the man, but his sword found no flesh. Eragon winced at the blade's inferiority to that of the Zar'roc: it was thicker, slower, and lost its edge after a few skirmishes. Nevertheless, it was the best sword in Surda, since the elves couldn't provide them with their wondrous weaponry.

As the first Ra'zac skipped back, a second leapt forward with its thin blade raised above its head, then chopped down at Eragon's head, meaning to cleave him from crown to toes. Eragon reversed his sword's path and brought it up to block the swing, and was surprised by the strength of the creature. The Ra'zac swiveled away, but with inhuman speed brought it back up to hack at his left side. Eragon met it in time, but only just. Too late, he remembered that there were two of the fiends in the palace, and flicked his eyes upwards to see the second join the first in the barrage. Eragon gritted his teeth and steeled himself to take on two attackers at once when fate smiled on him unexpectedly. The soldier gutted the second Ra'zac from behind, and sliced away at the thing's head and torso to make sure it was dead. The remaining Ra'zac hissed quietly, and turned to deal with the new threat. That was all Eragon needed to put a deep gash in the upper arm closest to him, which made its owner turn from the soldier to face him again. At the edge of his vision, Eragon noted several more soldiers closing in on their enemy. Eragon sprang over the oncoming men, hoping to get out of the way and enter the Ra'zac's mind. No luck: the Ra'zac didn't follow him, but its mind was well fortified, and allowed no entrance.

Trying a different tactic, Eragon called the air to harden around the Ra'zac, encircling its arms and restricting its movement. The spell taxed him greatly, but it allowed the soldiers to kill it without difficulty. With the danger gone, Eragon could relax.

Sorry that took so long—I don't especially like writing battle scenes. Thanks for all of your reviews!