Dear Readers,

The beginning of this story is under reconstruction. When you read a chapter that has nothing at all to do with what you have just read, please keep in mind that is the previous version of the story and I am redoing it as quickly as I can. I apologize for the inconveniance. I am not trying to confuse you! Later on, after chapter 28, things mostly fit together with the revised chapters of the story.

This is Chapter 26, revised.

Thank you and enjoy!

DragonRider2000

*Meanwhile*

A shadow moved through the spaces between buildings, as silent as a cat. No one had seen him slip into the town, and he hoped no one would see him go out, and only one or two people would be able to say that they had seen him at all.

Eragon flattened himself against one of the houses, hidden in the shadows as a man walked by the opening between buildings. He'd seen the soldiers riding through town and he watched a few of them enter the store, which was his destination. He didn't know if there were any more of them, as he had not seen them ride through the gates. He cursed his luck, and then wondered where they came from and what they were doing there. Suspicious, he stepped out from his hiding place and leaned against the wall of the store, waiting for the men to exit. He saw his and Roran's reward posters, and thanked the stars that Arya had helped him to disguise himself. She had not been happy when he had insisted on going into Feinster, but he would not let her go, and certainly not Roran.

Normally they would not have come close to Feinster, but Arya had informed them a few days before that they were going to meet someone along that road, and as it was a longer trip they needed more provisions. He frowned when he thought about the whole thing. Arya had not even hinted as to the person they were meeting. She'd kept said person's identity secret from them, leaving them in the dark. Neither he nor Roran were too happy about that, but there was little they could except wait and see.

Three soldiers came out of the store, but only one of them was carrying anything, and then it was only a small sack. Eragon slipped in, brushing off his hood as he entered, and the storekeeper looked sharply at him.

"What can I do for you, sir?" The man asked, eying him.

"I'd like enough supplies to last me at least two weeks." Eragon replied, handing him a list and a bag and then he leaned on the counter, looking out the window at the three soldiers across the street.

"Do you know where those soldiers are from, or where they're going?" Eragon asked softly, and the storekeeper narrowed his eyes.

"They're imperial, but I'm sure that you're smart enough to see that. As for where they're going, I'd say south. But who wants to know?"

"Curiosity." Eragon replied, and the man snorted, pulling a bag of something down from the shelf behind him.

"Curiosity." He scoffed. "That can get a man into trouble, especially these days. I hope you don't get too curious with the wrong person."

"Thanks." Eragon replied, and didn't say anything further. So imperial soldiers were traveling towards and into Surda? That certainly was not good news. The sooner he and his companions made it back to Aberon the better.

"Here you are, son." The storekeeper handed Eragon a full bag of provisions, and then he planted his hands on the counter and stared hard at him. Eragon took the bag gratefully and paid him, and then the man said quietly,

"You watch yourself out there. Good luck."

Eragon looked at him sharply, and the man grinned.

"Thanks again." Eragon replied quietly, and retreated outside. He looked up and down the street quickly, and he noticed a rider coming down the street. His sharp eyesight caught on the familiar face, but he couldn't place it. It was a girl on a tall grey horse, and she was walking towards the store. He quickly ducked behind the building, crouching in the shadows. Who was she? Why did her face jog his memory? Who did she remind him of?...

He froze, remembering a tall, elegant woman with a soft smile at an inn in Dras'leona; a woman who had a feeling of power about her that was not normal; a woman who wielded a sword with expertise and was wiser than she let on.

Tanyel Cavrona… and her sister Raya.

He heard the girl step onto the walk and then enter the store, and he eased himself around so he could see her horse and watch her once she came out. He didn't have to wait long. The girl exited the store and crossed the street, leaving her horse behind. Eragon narrowed his eyes, wanting to reach out with his mind but knowing it was too risky with imperial soldiers around. Something was bothering him besides, like a dark shadow was creeping over him, getting closer. He shivered, knowing it was time to leave, but he wanted to see if it really was Raya.

A few minutes passed, and the dark feeling was becoming oppressive. He heard voices from down the street, and he was about to turn and leave when the girl came out of the butcher's store, and he saw her face clearly then. There was no doubt then that she was the Raya he'd met in Dras'leona. But why was she here, in Feinster? Tanyel had said they wouldn't be leaving… but they had obviously traveled far and fast since they parted. Eragon and his group had made a side trip, which was why it had taken them this long to get to Feinster. But what were the odds that he'd run into Raya?

The next question was, would he do anything? It was far too dangerous to walk up to her in the open and reveal himself to her, as it might arouse suspicion on both of them. But the dark feeling he had…

Under his breath he placed a few of his own wards around her, hardly taxing his strength. He could then feel the intricate web of wards already placed on the girl, which strengthened his feeling that Tanyel could use magic.

After a slight pause, Raya walked back across the street with her bag and tied it to her saddle, and Eragon, satisfied that his wards would guard her well, slipped back into the alley and jumped up onto the wall and down, making his way carefully and silently out of the city. His feet were quick and he blended in with the buildings. A little spell made him invisible so he could retreat over the wall, and then he paused, having heard a commotion behind him. Fear struck a chord in him as he thought of Raya and the dark feeling suddenly exploded before his vision as he felt the presence of a dragon.

Murtagh and Thorn were in Feinster, and for his safety and that of his companions he could do nothing but continue on and hope that Raya and her own companions would be safe. He shivered, knowing how vulnerable he was. His steps quickened, and he was a fair distance away from the town when he heard an enraged roar and his skin prickled as he looked back and saw Thorn flying in the opposite direction, in pursuit of something, or someone. Eragon had faith in his wards, and Tanyel's. He knew that somehow Raya would be alright.

But what did this all mean?

In rage, Murtagh blasted some of the vrelthin, but more came at them and their attacks only increased in intensity. With magic he knew it would be impossible to pick the girl out among the ravines, which were teeming with vrelthin and other little creatures in small masses. Thorn's smell was thrown off by the stench of the large, fierce birds, and so Taya's look-a-like could be anywhere beneath them and she was perfectly hidden from them.

He cursed, and Thorn, sensing his thought process, veered away quickly and made his way swiftly back to Feinster. The birds, with their long, sharp beaks had managed to hurt him in a couple of places, and Murtagh too. Something was horribly wrong with the whole situation and both rider and dragon were beginning to realize it.

Drat you Westen for letting her go. Murtagh growled to himself, and Thorn snorted, blowing smoke into Murtagh's face.

He was as surprised as you were when he saw that girl. Her resemblance to Taya was astonishing. You lost your chance to capture her when you did in fact mistake her for Taya. Twice. Westen's reaction did not surprise me. But there must be a reason why she looks like Taya, and how she was able to penetrate your wards. That is what worries me.

Yes, that is a mystery. I would be able to find out if I had her in my hands.

Thorn huffed again. I too am not happy about losing her, but stop acting like a fool! We didn't catch her this time, but now we know she's out there. Without a doubt we will have another chance.

Fine. Murtagh looked back over his shoulder in disgust at the vrelthin that had finally stopped chasing them and were flying quickly back to their nests. To be impeded by a bunch of birds. The very thought chafed at him.

Murtagh, leave it alone. After all, they are not ordinary birds.

Murtagh didn't reply as Thorn spiraled downwards outside of the town where a group of his soldiers were gathered. He thought that someone in particular might have an answer to his questions about the girl. A man who had defied death to threaten Murtagh so the girl and a boy could escape him. This failure struck him like no other, even more than being defeated by Eragon and his elves. No matter how hard he tried, Taya was still a weakness to him. He'd seen her there for a moment in the street… but it hadn't been her and his hesitation had lost him the girl and his answers. So where was the girl now?

Where was Taya for that matter?

And why had he not used his power, which was absolutely incredible to him, to simply pluck her off her horse as she ran? He'd tried, but somehow she'd evaded him. And he'd been distracted still by that one man…

Murtagh's expression turned icy as Thorn landed. The dragon knew his thoughts and feelings, but knew that he could not say anything to dissuade his rider. So he stayed silent and stood menacingly above everyone else and the wall of the town, looking down on a scene of rage, loyalty, anger and stubborn resolve. Captive between two soldiers was a wounded man with black hair and steely grey eyes. He watched Murtagh approach like a predator hunting prey, but he did not shrink away in fear. His life may yet still have been on the line, but he'd accomplished what he wanted. He'd gotten his son and a young girl obviously wanted by Murtagh safely away. He had not caught them. They were still in danger, but for the moment they were safe.

Murtagh stopped in front of the man and glared at him. "You cost me a prize that is not even worth your life." He said darkly, and the man almost smiled.

"It was my pleasure." He spat, and Murtagh backhanded him, jerking the man to the side by the force of the blow.

"Your name?" Murtagh demanded, and the man shook his head to stave off the pain he must have been feeling, and then he looked back up at Murtagh.

"Why should I tell you? I will not tell you anything that matters."

"You don't really matter to me. All I have to do is wait for my prize to come out of hiding. I can send my men on ahead of me. Flying takes much less time than marching. If you tell me what I want to know I might spare your life."

"Then you might as well kill me now, rider." The man snarled, but he knew what Murtagh said was true. He could wait for the girl to return to her companions, and she would be caught, along with his son. Without lessening his defiant stare, he said quietly,

"My name is Siranus Liastrin. You will be disappointed in my knowledge of the girl, because I do not know her. It was not her I was concerned about in the beginning until I knew your true intentions."

"Ah, yes, your son you said? You do not know the girl yet you let your son escape with her? That hardly seems smart."

"I believe escaping with her was better than dying here or falling into your hands to be tortured for information he does not have!" Siranus's voice escalated. He knew he was backed into a corner. Murtagh knew what his son meant to him, and there was no doubt in the man's mind that Murtagh would use that to his advantage.

"You are obviously Varden." Murtagh stated suddenly. "If you do not have answers about the girl, I will just have to wring you for information on the Varden. Then maybe you will tell me something important when your resolve finally fails you."

"You are young in the ways of the world, rider. My resolve will not fail me. The empire is a disease, a poison consuming Alagaesia. The world is ruled by fear and death. But when you lose someone who means the world to you, someone who blocks out the fear and death, sometimes you cannot move on from despising those who were the cause of that loss."

"Who did you lose?" Murtagh scoffed, and Siranus set his jaw and stared at him with pained, defiant eyes and did not answer.

"So be it." Murtagh looked at the two guards. "Bind his hands and get him on a horse. He'll be coming with us for a while."

"Yes milord." The soldiers replied crisply, hauling Siranus around. Another man led up a horse, and with some dignity the prisoner swung into the saddle. His hands were bound and then tied to the saddle. Two men were at the horse's head, but Siranus was smart enough not to attempt anything. His death was certain if he tried. Murtagh would not hesitate again to kill him with magic.

The sun was setting, and one of the soldiers walked up to Murtagh slowly. Murtagh growled,

"You let her slip through your fingers!"

Westen Kliviyan stared at him without a readable expression. His eyes did look a little sad though.

"As did you." He turned and walked away then, and Murtagh was left simmering, but he could not contend with the man he'd once called his friend. He watched as the Hljodhr Evarinya walked to his horse and mounted. Thorn was right. Westen's reaction to the girl wasn't surprising, but he had still failed to hold onto her when he literally had her in his hands. He wouldn't forget that.

He stalked back to Thorn, and the dragon watched him with one of his large, ruby eyes.

"Camp." Murtagh said out loud so the soldiers could hear him. He ignored the fact that one of the houses in the town was on fire. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he didn't really care.

Murtagh.

Yes?

As we gave Taya a chance, let us give that girl a chance.

Murtagh froze at Thorn's request.

And let Liastrin think I am weak? No.

You're not weak, Murtagh! And they all know it. Only Weston really knows why you didn't succeed in catching her today.

If I give her a chance, like Taya and Eragon, we will be punished if she is important.

And if she isn't we have fallen into a darker evil than before.

We are doomed already, Thorn.

I at least still have some dignity. Thorn growled, and then grew silent and Murtagh could not get him to speak.

I will think about it. Murtagh said finally, and the dragon dipped his head once in response but still did not speak.

I don't really have a choice, do I? Murtagh thought to himself, ignoring a comment his best friend had once defiantly said to him.

'You always have a choice, Murtagh.'

The gem around his neck suddenly burned and he gasped, grabbing at it with his hand, but when he did it was cool to the touch and the burning ceased, leaving him gasping. That had never happened before… what did it mean?

He was puzzling over the gem when they reached the edge of the camp, and he climbed down off of Thorn as the soldiers were dragging Siranus Liastrin from the saddle.

"Take him to my tent. Drive a stake into the ground and tie him to it. Tightly."

The soldiers nodded, and forced Siranus forward, causing him to stumble. Murtagh watched them for a moment, and then looked around for Westen, and with a bit of annoyance he saw him leaning down from his horse to talk to a black clad figure.

Now he would have to deal with Captain Melcar Di'Acor's high moral standards. That was the last thing he wanted at the moment. But to his surprise the black clad figure, the Captain of the Hljodhr Evarinya only looked towards Murtagh and the retreating forms of the soldiers and their prisoner, and nodded and said something to Westen. The man on the horse replied and reined his horse around and disappeared into the camp.

Murtagh and Melcar faced each other for a moment, and then Melcar turned and also disappeared into the camp. Murtagh looked back at Thorn, and shrugged. He turned his head and looked at the glowing horizon, and shivered at the sudden thought of the burning around his neck. The sky looked as if it was on fire, and fire reminded him of the gem while the gem reminded him of Taya.

It was going to be a long night. He already knew his answer to Thorn. He'd give the girl and Siranus Liastrin's son a chance… but he had every intention of capturing them later on. He'd have the army move out early in the morning, and he and Thorn would fly ahead to scout the way.

As for Liastrin himself… he would just have to see.

She was sitting in the burning glade again, playing with a blade of grass. Her imagination was being stretched to its limits as she sat by herself, unable to do anything.

Always she was thrown into her past, and while she enjoyed watching some of her old memories, she also saw many that she wished would have been forgotten forever. More than once she saw the picture of her mother's death, and she saw many more times Melcar when he was at deaths door. Anything that was painful to her was dredged up, and it was all she could do to keep herself somewhat sane.

As she twiddled the blade of grass, the burning glade slowly disappeared, and was replaced with a glorious landscape, and the horizon seemed to be on fire. She smiled, and then she watched as a group of soldiers approached a camp, and there was Murtagh astride Thorn… Her breath caught in her throat, and she looked away at the soldiers and immediately picked out their prisoner, and she could tell that he was wounded. Anger flared up inside her at Murtagh and she turned her head back to glare at him menacingly.

'So this is what you're doing these days, Murtagh?' She whispered in anger, and even in the state she was in her rage felt potent. 'I wish you could see me now. I want to see you cringe! You really are not the man I know.'

All of a sudden she saw him jerk and his face went ashen as he grabbed for something at his neck. He caught hold of it, and he seemed to be gasping for air. But before Taya could see what it was, she was back in the glade, and she was very annoyed.

'Hang it all, Morzan!' She shouted and slammed her fist against the ground. 'What was that? Why did he do that? I feel as if I should know, but I can't grasp it.'

She froze.

Her necklace.

Before she had time to dwell on her revelation she found herself falling into darkness. Again the glade was gone, and there was nothing but black. Taya braced herself for the inevitable impact and closed her eyes tightly, but opened them after a moment when the feeling was gone.

She was standing in the midst of a host of tents, and beside her, tied to a rope between two poles, was a magnificent black horse. It didn't seem fazed by her presence, and Taya suddenly smiled.

'Adnarim!' She exclaimed, but Melcar's horse didn't respond. She frowned, and then looked around. She started walking, wondering if she'd happen upon anyone she knew… She knew the Hljodhr Evarinya were there at least. Then she paused, recognizing a roan mare and a tacked pinto gelding standing outside one of the tents. Taya walked up to the mare, putting out her hand.

'Antara.' She whispered, and when she tried to pet Zen's horse her hand went through it.

'What is going on?' Taya whispered in bewilderment, and then she jumped when two familiar voices suddenly yelled from inside the tent. She cringed, and steeling herself she walked through the tent flap and found herself in the middle of an argument between Zen Drayson and Westen Kliviyan.

'No! You don't understand.' Zen yelled, his blue eyes flaming. His fists were clenched at his sides as he stood a little apart from Westen, who was as tense as a bow.

'No, I don't because you won't tell me.' Westen shot back, his voice coated with anger. 'I will never admit that you're lost to us, even after…' He paused, and Taya shivered. Even after what?

'What happened to you, Zen?' Westen asked, pleading for an answer. His expression was pained, and Taya's eyes widened in astonishment when Zen retaliated mercilessly.

'What happened to me? I'll tell you what happened.' He stepped closer to Westen, and spat,

'I grew up.'

Taya's heart sank and she wanted to cry out and take her friend by the shoulders and beg him to stop acting this way… Westen took a startled step backwards and his hard yet pained expression changed to sad and worn, and he looked instantly older. He turned towards the exit and paused directly in front of Taya, and he said over his shoulder quietly,

'I truly do not know you anymore, Zen. You've walked too far down a path that I cannot follow, and I don't know if there is anyone out there who can bring you back.'

With that he exited the tent, leaving Taya with an enraged Zen who shouted after him,

'You never knew me! You never needed to know anything that had to do with me, and I'm fine where I am!'

Tears streamed down Taya's hot face. First Murtagh with his wounded prisoner and now this? What was going on in her absence from the world?

'Stop acting like a child, Zen.' She growled furiously in response to his tantrum of a response. 'I thought you had more dignity than that.'

He didn't hear her, and he sat down on his bedroll with his head down. His blond hair hid his face from her, and Taya went and sat beside him. She tried with all her might to touch him but she couldn't. With a deep breath, she formed a picture in her mind of her touching Zen on the shoulder, and then she laid her hand on his shoulder, and she didn't let it slip through him.

"Zen..." She felt him shiver as she touched him, and then he tensed and looked around, his eyes wide and startled. He looked straight at her, and she shivered. She knew he couldn't see her, but perhaps he could sense that she was watching. She stood up then, and walked out of the tent, and as she walked out, she found herself back in the glade.

There was a reason she would battle death until the very end. She had left too much behind. Now two best friends had been torn apart because of Galbatorix, and there didn't seem to be any hope of that friendship reviving.

'Watch me win.' She snarled to the dark sky and the burning trees, her prison. 'Watch me win and reverse what you've done, O king. It's time you were defeated for once.'