The forest felt the same as it had the day she had left. Mellary felt the magic eddy around her as she stepped beneath the trees, then smooth back into its perpetual flow. It was alien, inaccessible, and strangely welcoming. The magic accepted her presence, moving around her, through her.

I have never felt anything like this, Embrald said, her awe echoing in his voice.

It exists nowhere else in the world, Mellary replied, her voice subdued.

They walked in silence at the tail end of the group, beyond words. Very little of the moonlight filtered down through the layers of giant leaves, but it hardly seemed to matter. The green around them seemed to be glowing with life. Mellary stumbled slightly on an upturned root, and her hand slipped from Embrald's neck. The light vanished, plunging her into darkness. Her elven eyes turned the forest into a dim twilight, but it lacked the earlier glow. She slipped back into her stride and rested her fingers against the cool scales. The forest lit up again.

Ahead the elves were laughing as they guided the motely group through the darkness from beyond the trees. Mellary could hear their light voices, but not even Embrald's eyes could pick them out.

You and Arya don't act like that, Embrald noted.

I don't count, Mellary said lazily, still lulled by the magic. And Arya… Arya has seen much in her short time on this world. Unintentional sadness crept into her voice. Embrald radiated sympathy. And besides, they're sentinels, not politicians or magicians. Life is a lot simpler on the edge of the forest. There's less to scheme about.

But all elves act like this?

Mellary laughed without humor and didn't respond.

Their vision flashed red as a fire peeked through the trees ahead. The pair stepped into the circle of light, the last out of the darkened trees. What greeted them was a small outpost: a collection of grass huts. Mellary knew without looking up that there was a platform in the trees above them; elves, like birds, enjoyed high perches. She herself has always liked the perspective that came with height.

Part of what makes you an excellent Rider, Embrald commented, bumping her with his nose.

The others were settling down around the fire as their guides began to prepare a meal. Mellary's stomach turned over at the thought of food. Embrald stretched out on the ground and she leaned back against his side, enjoying the warmth seeping through his scales.

Are you worried you'll be recognized? Embrald asked suddenly.

Are you in my head again? Mellary demanded with mock outrage.

When am I not? Answer the question.

If you're already in my mind, you should be able to find that out for yourself.

Our link lets me know what you're feeling, not what you're thinking.

I know that.

I know you know that. Now answer the question.

No. I look too different. I'm leaner. Meaner. More abrasive, sarcastic, angry, unstable… more human. I kept my hair shorter and straight when I lived here. I didn't allow it to… She lifted a curly lock. Kink. It's been lightened by the sun; it didn't have this much gold in it. I had hair like my mother's, before. Not to mention the scars.

Scars?

The obvious one. Mellary ran her fingers along her collarbone tracing the line of pearly skin, lighter than her tanned appearance. If any part of her look was going to be recognized, it would be that. She would have to keep it covered up. And then there's the three claw marks on my right side, from a run-in with a large cat my second year in the north. Not to mention the three arrow holes under my sternum.

'Arrow holes'? Who turned you into a pincushion? He said it nonchalantly, but Mellary could sense his hot anger.

A group of bandits who thought that I would be easy prey. They set up an ambush, hit me twice before I knew what was happening.

You said three arrows.

They hit me twice before I killed half of them using magic.

Only half? Embrald teased.

I could only see half. Mellary grumbled. The others came out of hiding and attacked me before I had a chance to recover. I managed to defeat most of them before the leader shot me again.

And then what happened? Embrald asked when she paused.

And then I ripped his heart out of his chest.

A little excessive, don't you think?

I was slightly angry by then.

So you did all of this with two arrows sticking out of your chest?

Mellary considered it, then nodded. I guess I did. It was only afterwards that I cut them out and closed up the wounds.

If you can close wound using magic, why do you have scars? Wouldn't the magic get rid of them completely?

It depends on how long it takes before I can see to the wounds, the degree of damage, whether or not magic is involved in the attack, and my control at the time.

Control?

How dizzy I am due to blood loss. The ancient language will close wounds, but it doesn't put blood back in your veins.

Ah. I see.

Of course, your dragon magic might have a different effect. I haven't read much, anything, on dragon magic.

We don't even know if I have any. Embrald said mournfully. It's never presented itself.

Mellary stroked his side reassuringly. It will come. She said. In time, just like the fire. Embrald stirred restlessly, but didn't respond.

Back to your original question. No, I don't believe I'll be recognized on sight. If I am revealed, it will be the consequence of my own actions.

A haunting voice made her stop. Mellary blinked, refocusing on the scene in front of them. Her conversation with Embrald had lasted through meal preparation, she had eaten little and politely declined the wine, and now one of the elves was singing.

Exactly as it had in the past, the melody swept her up, capturing her attention sending her mind drifting. Not even the memories stirring under layer of shields could pull her away from the song.

You're humming. Memories might not have been able to break the spell, but Embrald's sharp comment was more than capable. Mellary shook her head, futilely trying to clear the fog from her thoughts.

I am? She swore quietly. This might be harder than I thought. Thanks for keeping me… grounded.

That's what I'm here for.

Mellary woke early and suddenly. She lay still, curled against Embrald's side, trying to decide what had awoken her. Darkness was wrapped around her; the fire had died down, and the dense foliage prevented moon or starlight from reaching the cool forest floor.

A tremor ran through the air. There; that had pulled her from sleep. A slight trembling of the magic that moved through the forest. A gap in the darkness overhead gave her a glimpse of the sky. It was deep violet: night hovering on the edge of dawn. Far away, the first light of the day had touched the trees, waking the forest and causing the magic to stir. It happened every day, but it had been so long since she had felt the strange sensation.

There was no point in going back to sleep now. Mellary stood slowly, careful not to disturb Embrald. The dragon was an exceptionally light sleeper.

Sheer force of habit made her reach for her swords. Mellary hesitated as her fingers touched the hilt. She would not be recognized, but her weapons might be. Their craftsmanship was legendary; the pair had been made by the same smith that had forged Zar'roc long ago. More than that, they had been specially crafted for her. They had no rival.

She had told Arya that she had found them in a market. How long ago should she have found them? Five years? Ten? What length of time would give her the proficiency she would show?

Too many problems. Not enough answers. She buckled Strength around her waist and pushed Endurance farther into her pack.

She moved silently, making her way to the edge of the camp. A light whistle made her raise her eyes to the look-out platform. She waved a greeting and kept moving, picking a tree just inside their range. Mellary dropped to the ground, placing her back against the massive trunk of a tree. She crossed her legs, tipped her head back so it was resting against the bark, and closed her eyes.

A deep breath drew the cool morning air into her lungs. Mellary continued to breathe, keeping her mind still. Slowly, like silt settling out of dirty water, her wild emotions calmed into stillness. Centered, she turned inward. She could feel the heat of her own power like a brilliant white fire. Coursing through the fire, moving with slow serpentine movements, was a deep emerald flame: Embrald's power, mixed with her own. If she had peeked into her dragons mind, she would have found green fire mixed with white.

She breathed again and imagined a pane of glass. It formed under her metaphysical fingers, firm and solid, and spiraled out to encompass her mind. She rapped against it, smiling as a clear note rang through her head. This wall was different from her normal barriers. It was a trick that she had learned from a wandering mage in Terim, who had stopped by to visit Angela at the same time she had. Unlike her other walls, which were constructed to keep out other minds, this was designed to keep out ambient magic. Only a human would think of that spell; blocking out the magic of Du Weldenvarden would be sacrosanct to an elf. But it was either this or jump every time the magic stirred. It took years to adjust to the magic.

Another barrier? Embrald asked, startling her. She hadn't felt him wake. His voice sounded strange, like it was echoing down a canyon. Mellary could barely hear him.

Yes. Just to guard against the ambient magic.

It feels strange. I can't reach you.

Her barrier strained, ringing as Embrald pushed against it. Mellary reached for him as well, trying to combine their senses as they often did. Her senses felt flat.

Take it down.

But… the magic…. I can't just go discarding barriers. Panic edged into her voice. She needed…

Please, Mellary, Embrald said gently.

Her mind rebelled, the instinctive desire to shield herself clashing with the sudden, inexplicable need to connect. If it had been anyone else…. But it wasn't. It was Embrald.

Mellary's shoulders slumped. Only because it's you, She replied. The barrier fell slowly, a consequence of her reluctance. An uncomfortable, exposed feeling cloed around her.

The others are waking, He said carefully, keeping his mind away from any thoughts of what had just happened. They're saying something about boats.

Wonderful, Mellary sighed, heaving herself to her feet. Her head swan as the effects of the magic hit her. The world tilted, then stabilized. She walked carefully back into camp.

Sure enough, two elven canoes had been delivered sometime in the night.

There's nothing I love more than sea-sickness, She grumbled.

You know… Embrald began.

I know it's a river, O Smart One. But you haven't seen the rapids this thing has.

Rapids?! Mellary could almost hear his eyes lighting up.

Be careful, Mellary warned. She shouldered her pack and joined the group at the canoes.

One look at the seating arrangements and she growled under her breath. Her conversation with Embrald had delayed her long enough; Eragon and Orik were already ensconced in a boat with one of their guides, leaving her with… Arya.

Would you be willing to, say, 'accidentally' upset the boat if too many pointed questions are asked? Mellary asked plaintively.

How many pointed questions are we talking about?

Three?

Eight.

Four?

Six.

Five it is, then.

We have an accord. Of course, this doesn't extend to information you volunteer willingly.

Because I am very likely to volunteer information, Mellary grumbled as she dropped her pack into the boat and took her seat.

She patiently sat through Arya's explanation of how to paddle a canoe, hiding her extreme boredom. A child could figure out how to paddle and steer one of the light boats. Their guides picked up long poles, driving the ends down into the sandy riverbed and shoving them away from the docks. Mellary sat with the paddle across her lap, waiting patiently. The river grabbed them, tugging them along in the gently current.

Embrald's head emerged from the water next to her boat. The river here was shallow and clear; she could see his long emerald body stretched along the pale bottom, melding with the shoots of water plants that swayed in the current.

Good luck, He said, taking a deep breath and ducking back down under the water.

You are such a coward, Mellary accused, amused. Are you sure you don't want to stay up here and have the elves pay you more compliments?

They never give me as much as they give Saphira, He grumbled, startling a laugh out of Mellary.

Poor baby! Is your pride hurting?

No!

Mellary chuckled again, shaking her head. Embrald grumbled to himself and retreated, cruising beneath their boat. Occasionally the tip of his nose would emerge from beneath the water, suck in a dragon-sized lungful of air, and retreat beneath the surface again.

The silence in their boat lasted for an hour. The guide was staring at the forest as it slid by, lost in though. Arya, seated behind Mellary, was keeping to herself. Mellary was content to let the silence stand. Silence was better than…

"Now that there is time," Arya said softly, without disturbing their guide. Mellary contained her wince. "Where did you find a dragon egg?"

Pointed question number one.

"I suppose you could say Embrald found me," Mellary said lightly, then fell quiet. The silence strained; Arya was clearly expecting her to continue, and Mellary was making it obvious that every answer was going to have to be dragged out of her, kicking and screaming.

"What do you mean?"

"I felt a calling," She paused, trying to think of a way to describe what she had felt. Nothing came to mind, so she continued. "Inside my mind. It turned out to be Embrald, inside his egg, pulling me to him."

"And you went?"

"I tried to ignore it for a while, but he was… persistent."

"How did you escape notice? The Varden did not know of your existence until you appeared suddenly."

"I stayed in the wilderness for months after Embrald hatched."

"How did you find the Varden?"

Pointed question number two.

"Embrald and I encountered the army heading south. We decided that such a large number of Urgals could not bode well for anyone and followed, taking out as many as we could in the process."

"What is your aim?"

"I don't understand the question."

"Why are you here?"

Number three.

"To learn."

Silence.

"You did not answer my question. The two remaining eggs were Galbatorix's possession; we would have heard if one had been liberated. How did you acquire a dragon egg?"

Pointed question number four.

Technically, that was the same pointed question. Three.

Mellary sighed to herself. "I heard a calling in my mind. I followed it to the city where the eggs were held. I snuck in, Embrald hatched, and we escaped together."

A little scarce on the details. Embrald quipped. Mellary studiously ignored him.

Arya was quiet for a minute, most likely examining what she had said.

Not much to examine.

Would you be quiet?!

"The boy claimed to be a friend."

Pointed… statement? That counts.

"The boy has a broad definition of friendship." Mellary turned her head enough to see Arya nod once: an acceptance of her implication.

The conversation died, both of them content to watch the water ripple by.

Is it over? Embrald asked, shaking off her nerves.

Mellary laughed dryly. Not by a long shot.