Eragon sat up sleepily, rubbing his eyes, then proceeded to fold his blankets and cook breakfast. Saphira, Brom, and Murtagh were still asleep. Brom was snoring loudly.

The four were camped in a conveniently placed grove of trees with a large clearing in the center. It was to the west of Furnost. The day before, they had replenished their supplies at the town before meeting in the grove with Saphira.

Brom moaned and rolled over, right onto Murtagh, who kept sleeping, oblivious to the heavy old man lying on top of him. Then Brom's drool began to drip into Murtagh's ear, and he sat bolt upright, knocking Brom off him.

"Ah!" he shouted, rubbing at his ear furiously, trying to get rid of the saliva.

Brom got up, grumbling, and Saphira's eyes opened as well.

The Rider and dragon watched the brawl. Brom and Murtagh were rolling on the grass, shouting angrily and punching and kicking each other. Brom was ahead.

Saphira raised her head, sniffing the air suspiciously. That's strange.

What is it? asked Eragon.

The dragon shook her head. It's probably nothing. But she still looked uneasy.

"I guess I'll have to eat all the breakfast by myself," Eragon proclaimed loudly, putting out the fire and getting ready to dump the scalding meat stew directly into his mouth. He wouldn't really, but it was bound to get their attention.

Murtagh and Brom immediately stopped fighting. Actually, Murtagh stopped fighting, and Brom couldn't very well attack someone who wouldn't fight back. It took the fun out of it. They all ate breakfast.

When they were done and full and ready to set out again, loud yells suddenly came from the direction of Furnost. Yells like "Capture them!" and "Death to the enemies!" Then someone pointed out, "We're not supposed to kill them though." There was a brief silence, and the four could practically hear the other soldiers giving him the death glare. Then they went back to shouting.

Murtagh and Brom and Eragon all scrambled onto Saphira, who beat her wings furiously and took off. Once they cleared the tree line, they saw that there was a great big mob of soldiers stumbling across the countryside. One of the smarter ones pointed at them and shouted, "Look, there they are!"

But the four were already too high for the soldiers to do anything about them. Therefore, the soldiers didn't do anything about them. Instead, a tall pale man with a black cape and black armor and red eyes and red hair in the rear of the mob cried, "Letta!"

It's Durza! Saphira struggled against the magic, but couldn't do a thing.

Durza shouted more stuff, and Saphira, as well as her three passengers, were slowly forced closer to the ground.

Luckily for them, Durza stepped into a bunny hole and lost his concentration. Unluckily for them, Murtagh, who had still been cleaning the spit out of his ear, fell off Saphira when she jerked upward.

"No!" Saphira, Brom, and Eragon shouted simultaneously. Saphira flipped so that she was pointed down, ready to rescue the screaming Murtagh, but the sudden movement caught Brom off guard and he, too, was thrown off her back.

Saphira! Eragon cried, sounding awfully accusing.

You can't blame me! I can't fly if I'm looking at my back the whole time! Why weren't you paying attention?

Right then, Durza managed to tug his foot out of the hole. He shouted, "Sonapae!"

Murtagh and Brom, who were both screaming their heads off, with Murtagh screaming normally while Brom was screaming curses at Saphira and Eragon both, slowed down considerably. They hit the ground with just enough force to stun them, and they were quickly surrounded by soldiers before they could do anything.

"No," whispered Eragon. Then, to Saphira, We need to save them!

You save them, Saphira snapped. There's a Shade and about a hundred soldiers down there! How does it help them any if we get captured as well? Saphira winged off to the west, ignoring Eragon's anguished pleas.

"This place is boring," I said, yawning despite the fact that it was noon.

"Then can you please teach me how to fly?" Pigeon asked hopefully.

"Maybe, if I knew how."

"You said you could fly earlier," said Pigeon accusingly.

"I can, I just don't know how to teach you. I learned when a dragon dumped me off her back in midair," I said. "But I can't carry you, so that won't work. Wait, is there any big cliff or tree around here?"

"All the trees here are big," Pigeon pointed out.

"Fine. Find a really big one and climb it."

He complied, looking around and finding the tallest one around, which was at least two hundred feet tall. Then he began scrambling up the tree like a squirrel, with me flying around behind him, bored.

Once he was perched in a branch at the top after half an hour, I landed next to him.

"You have to be quick," I told him. "Jump, then just spread out your wings. You'll know what to do after that."

"Jump?" he asked in disbelief. "From here? I'll break my neck."

"Yeah, you will," I agreed. Then I pulled out my dagger and brought it down on the branch where it connected with the tree.

"What are you doing?" Pigeon shouted desperately, trying to keep his balance on the shaking branch.

I turned and grinned insanely at him while still sawing away with my dagger, which cut through the wood like butter. Like, the wood was butter, not the dagger. It would suck if the dagger was butter. It'd be all hot and gooey and fatty and- I'll stop now. "I'm teaching you how to fly."

There was a loud snap and the branch fell. Pigeon held onto it tightly, screaming, and I folded my wings and dived down after him.

"Let go of that thing!" I shouted. When he wouldn't listen, I also grabbed onto the branch and slammed my dagger hilt onto Pigeon's hands. He let go. I think I might've broken a few fingers, actually, but that's not the point. "Now, spread your wings!" I glared at him when he didn't move. He seemed to be paralyzed or something. "Why do I have to do everything?" I grabbed one of his red wings and tugged at it so that it unfurled. He must've come back to his senses, because he stretched out his other wing as well.

Then he was whooping, his fear completely gone. He angled himself just before he could hit the ground so that he curved upwards. I spread my wings and followed him.

"I believe I can fly," I muttered as we broke through the canopy, disturbing a big group of birds which proceeded to poop all over the place, conveniently missing me. I shoved my dagger back into the sheath on my leg, then zoomed up to Pigeon and right past him without any difficulty.

"Hey!" he called.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning and beating my wings furiously to hover.

Pigeon tried to copy my example, but his wings couldn't hold him place and he just took to flying circles around me instead, forcing me to turn with him. "How do you fly so fast?"

"Practice," I said, rolling my eyes, "and you're fat. By the way, I'm not staying here any longer."

"What? Where're you going?" he asked curiously.

"Bone Guard."

"What's Bone Guard?"

"According to Loshar, it's this island somewhere."

"What are you going there for?"

"None of your business. Bye!" I turned north. At least, I figured it was north, because the sun rose in the east, and I vaguely remembered which direction the sun had been in in the morning, and north was just to the left of the rising sun. No, wait, it was to the right. Or was it left?

"I'm coming with you!"

"Sure, why not? Come at your own risk."

And with that, we sped off. The elves were going to be pretty annoyed when they figured out we were gone; we had to speed.