I can explain why this chapter is way overdue in two words: Writer's Block

Wow, I'm amazed that people are reviewing or following, this story. This is only my second one, (the first one was posted on a website that is now gone.)

I don't own anything. (Sad face)

Chapter 3: Real or Imaginary?

Light filtered through the drapes, throwing beams of light that slowly crawled through the room. The progress of the light beams was the only thing that could measure time across the room. Slowly, they crept onto the bed and illuminated the single figure that rested on the sheets. The brown hair was dusted with leaves and twigs, and dirt covered the face. It was curled almost into a fetal position, like the body was holding something close to it. The eyes flickered open at random intervals, and half formed words were occasionally heard. A tray of food had been placed at the foot of the bed, and the flies that hovered above it clearly indicated that it had been placed there some time ago. A blue jay hopped onto the window still. It eyed the figure, and then the food. Slowly, it inched towards the tray, chirping with indecision. A gust of wind suddenly blew through the open window, and a shrill laugh echoed through the room. Frightened, the blue jay fled from the loft.

Eragon slipped in and out of consciousness. He felt people gather around him, talking in soft voices. What were they saying? He couldn't focus enough to pick out phrases or even individual words. The tones seem to be rapidly changing.

"How did he get here?"

"From the looks of it, he's been in here for a while."

"There was a trail leading from a small pile of leaves at the base of this tree, but if he was there, how did we miss him?"

"I don't know…"

Eragon opened his eyes. The room was empty. Had he imagined the voices? There was no sign that anyone was with him. He started suddenly. The girl! Where was she? He tried to rise and call her, but his voice cracked, and he was racked with a series of coughing fits as he collapsed. His vision was blurry, and his eyes were very dry. Slowly, the celling swam into focus. He felt dizzy, but he was able to prop up onto his elbow and slowly scan the room. His eyes fell on the tray of food, and his hunger overtook his concern. After twenty minutes, he managed to get the tray into reaching distance.

As Eragon ate, not really interested in what he was eating, he tried to remember what had happened. He remembered meeting the girl, then passing out. He had woken up and had taken her up to the loft to be healed. That much was clear in his mind. The remarks that he had heard, though, confused him greatly. From what he could gather, no one had seen him for days. How was this possible? He had been at the foot of his loft the entire time. Yet from the bits of conversation he had heard, no one could find him, or contact his mind.

This last thought caused Eragon to pause. He was awake now, and Saphira had not sensed it. 'Saphira?'

'LITTLE ONE!'

Eragon flinched as the joyful roar rang in his head like a church bell. 'No need to shout,' he thought weakly, 'Where are you?'

'Just approaching the loft now. How do you feel?'

'Like I drank an entire barrel of mead, what's going on?'

'You've been missing for over three days! No one could find you! It was like you just vanished off into thin air. Then I wake up here, and you are asleep! What happened?'

'I don't know. I remember meeting a little girl, then having an attack. I must have passed out. After I woke up, I brought the girl here because she was injured. Must have fallen asleep.' He paused, 'did you see her leave?'

'No.' The answer was guarded. Eragon felt Saphira shift through his memories. As she did so, Eragon felt her stiffen. 'Little one, that girl doesn't live here.'

Eragon started. 'But I saw her here, she must…'

'There are only two elven children here, and neither of them looks like that girl. She doesn't look…'

'What?' Eragon snapped, but Saphira didn't answer. She was lost in thought, occasionally picking through his memories for clues. The silence was disturbing. Several times Saphira would talk to herself, whispering softly so Eragon could not hear her. Growing irritated at her silence, Eragon rapped softly on her mind, but it was locked down tightly. However, the general feeling he felt from her was concern and pity. Pity about what? Was he missing something dreadfully important? This fact caused a cold sweat to break out, and Eragon felt his breath becoming short. His pulse was rising, and dizziness due to lack of air started to wrap around his mind. Finally, Saphira spoke in a wary tone.

'I think she was part of Durza's memories. It must have been triggered by the attack.'

'What? She was here! I healed her wounds, and she was right next to me when I fell asleep!'

'Little one, she doesn't live here. She even said so. I think this is another side-effect of the curse Durza left you.'

'But…'

'Just rest, I tell Master Oromis and Glaedr that you have woken up.' Before Eragon could protest further, Saphira shut down their mental link. He sighed, and then slowly shifted into a sitting position. Sweat started to trickle down into his eyes; he automatically raised a hand to wipe it off. As his hand passed over his eyes, he caught sight of a white blur moving past. He whipped his head around, but saw nothing. Frowning, Eragon started to raise his body off the bed. "Hello?" he called out hesitantly. A small stirring greeted him. It was very close, maybe only a few feet. He pushed himself out of the bed, hissing as his limbs protested. Eragon lent against the bed, listening. The noise came again, below his feet. He knelt down, hoping to hear it more clearly. A small petal caught his eye, and he picked it up. As he examined it, something brushed against his ankle. His head turned, and saw a small white hand next to him. It came from under the bed. He leaned down, and saw a shape curled up on the floor. He smiled against his will, and tugged on the hand. "Come on out," he coaxed, "No one is here." Slowly the form of a dirty girl came up. She looked up at him, shivering.

"Are you okay?" His confusion faded away as he looked her over. Her wounds were gone, but she was coated with dust. "Why were you under the bed?"

Her voice was low and shaking. "I…I…was scar…scared. I heard people coming in. I didn't know if they were friendly, so I hid. People kept coming in and out, so I stayed under the bed." Her stomach growled. She blushed faintly, "Do you have any food?"

Eragon glanced at his tray, but it was empty. "Not at the moment, but I can get some very soon. In the meantime, you should wash up." He took her hand, and led into the bathroom. After a moment of explaining on how the bath worked, he started to leave.

"Wait, will…"

Eragon smiled. "No one will find you, they will be focused on me. Just bathe, and wait. I'll be back soon. Why don't you leave your dress outside; I think I can mend it." After a moment she nodded. Eragon stood outside for a minute, and then took the dress that was pushed out of the door. Footsteps and voices sounded from just outside. Sighing he placed the torn dress under the pillows of the bed. As the door opened, he gave an inaudible groan. This was going to a long day…