I'm still not completely sure what possessed Murtagh to throw his lot in with the most wanted kid and dragon in Alagaesia, but there was nothing I could do to change his mind. I hovered around for most of Eragon's healing journey, watching from the sidelines. I've never been more paranoid in my life, not even at court: every snapping branch or shifting cloud was a threat. Some were easily handled. For example, a pack of thin-ribbed wild dogs wouldn't necessarily be able to kill warriors of their caliber, but a pile of dead dogs would still be a powerful lure for the Ra'zac or any of the king's other lackeys in the area. I spent more time than is probably reasonable accounting for things like this; erasing every trace of their passage. When I could spare the effort I laid misleading clues in opposing directions- anything to obscure their path. Brom had paid some attention to their footprint and Eragon wasn't totally oblivious… but damn near it to my eyes.

But, distracted as I was looking out for them, I underestimated their even more over-protective escort.

The scrub brush that grew in excess between Dras Leona and Uru'baen wasn't good for much, but it at least made decent tinder. The region was so dehydrated from a stingy spring that everything was dry enough to make smokeless flames. The problem then became controlling said fire; one jumping spark could easily torch the entire region. Magic wouldn't avail me much if that were to happen. Mages (at least, sensible ones) knew better than to set themselves in competition with Nature. That would be exactly my luck; trying to protect them and I accidentally burn them to death.

They would not be in danger from Galbatorix any longer.

I scoffed. We haven't quite reached that point of desperation. Besides, I would choose a less painful course.

Katana disliked my morbid addition to her equally morbid jest. Why am I not surprised that you've considered mercy killing?

I've considered every alternative at least once. I drifted cool, blanketing currents of thought over our bond. Once she'd relaxed her concern I added, Most of them just happen to be shit.

The yipping wails of a nearby coyote pack rent the quiet night. I cast a cursory ward to steer them away from my campsite and meager supper. The beasts were well-fed this time of year- every prey animal within a week's ride was in the same breeding frenzy as the strutting cocks of Uru'baen- but it paid to be cautious.

I stretched my legs and arms out in front of me; all four limbs were coated in dirt and protested with creaking snaps. I need to sleep early and long tonight- if I keep this pace I won't be much help to anyone. In the days since the loss of Brom and the addition of Murtagh to the company, I hadn't slept more than an hour at a time. Turning my eyes and thoughts from them for even a moment felt impossible. No two people had ever been in more danger in all of Galbatorix's reign. There were prisoners awaiting execution who wouldn't trade places with either of them- at least their sentences had an end!

Rest now. If any of our spells are tripped I will wake you. My partner leeched some of my roiling anxiety away and dissipated into the ether. I blinked twice at the star-dusted sky and fell into a death-like sleep.

For an hour or so.

Vakna! We have company.

My feet were beneath me before my eyes opened. I blinked thickly all around, but could not immediately make sense of Katana's warning. Just as I was about to ask her what she meant, I caught impossibly subtle air currents directly overhead. No sooner had I launched into a roll- cricking my neck and scraping an elbow in my hurry- than a thunderous woosh filled my ears. I rose only to a knee before a large, piercing, reptilian eye was glaring at me with murderous indignation.

My heart about curdled in my ribs for the shock. A natural hunter, this youngling. And pretty ferocious for her lacking size.

Katana- as vain as any dragon ever hatched- peaked through my eyes at the narrowed blue orb. Some work to do yet, but she shows promise.

Saphira moved back from me to more fully display her fangs. She seemed ill-inclined to touch my thoughts at all- not surprising for a bonded and unsocialized dragon- but she didn't know I had someone at my side who need not abide by old formalities. Katana offered her thoughts. The armored lid snicked twice in surprise, then its owner pulled her neck up and away from my kneeling pose.

I released a shaky breath. It had been a very long time since I'd battled a dragon- and I'd certainly never attempted it alone! What did you tell her?

The truth. Katana seemed instantly pleased with the interaction; much more so than I ever could have guessed. She knows our names, our acquaintance with Brom, and that we're following them-

That's a little more than strictly necessary! There wasn't any real anger behind my words, but I was still irritated. A lifetime of secrecy was not easily undone for any stranger; regardless of species.

Not for her. She has a rider to defend- any lesser reason and she would be honor-bound to eat us.

I swallowed. Ah. That's fair, I suppose. Will she speak with me?

An embarrassed tint entered Katana's thoughts. Let me ask.

I waited in awkward quiet again. The one time I presumed to make any noise, to stand from my kneeling position, Saphira growled like she would make good on Katana's prediction.

I remained on bended knee.

When Katana's attention reverted to me again, she'd blown so far from the original topic that I found myself scrambling to keep up. We shouldn't keep her long; all the good hunting in our area will have scattered, and she needs to eat much more than a few morsels in this stage of growth-

Katana. I clung to patience despite my sore leg. Will she speak with me?

My partner was a little embarrassed to be caught so distracted, but I could hardly blame her. She'd dreamed of meeting a sane, friendly junior of her race longer than Torix had ruled. She will, but she does not trust us.

I wouldn't either in her position. I relaxed my minimal defenses and offered a timid connection.

Saphira poked at it cautiously. Her mind was unique in my experience of dragons (limited as that was) more structured and much more wary. This youngling had clearly been through enough to hone her instincts sharper than dragons many times her age. She waited for me to speak, tensed in body and mind for a hasty retreat.

I took a deep breath and haltingly wiped the mist of moisture from my eyes. Kvetha, Skulblaka Naunen. Eka eddyr ai Indlvarn- ai shur'tugal osthato theirra fricai. Vae weohnata néiat haina ono un onr.

Saphira quirked her head like a snake bothered by an odd scent. I knew she would comprehend me, even if she couldn't understand every individual word. Is that why your partner is both close and far?

I winced. It was neither my intention nor my place to detail the existence of eldunari- or intangible space, for that matter- to a young dragon even if I could. Yes, it is. And I cannot explain more than this for her safety and for yours.

You both speak much of my safety and of my rider's. Why then have you been hiding from us? Her calm, slow blink had all the scrutiny of Madame Tutor on a rampage.

It pains me to report that the whole story is quite incredible, and much of it is not mine to share. Omitting those crucial details, I am someone who wants Eragon to be safe and happy as long as he lives. I believe this can be best done by keeping my distance from him and dispatching any threats before they reach you.

Saphira paused and withdrew enough to muse in private. Her scales glistened in the moonlight as she shifted; more precious than any gem ever found. Even the Star Saphire of Tronjheim or the floating crystals of Eom paled in comparison to such brilliance- and this was only in moonlight! She returned to our conversation with a mild but insightful query. And what qualifies as "happy" to you?

Between just Katana and I, there was a mutual, If only I knew. To the other dragon, I shrugged. I doubt he's old enough to even know himself, but I believe that life as Galbatorix's slave would make any happiness impossible. I want to prevent that fate, for him and all around him, by any means necessary. The rest is his to choose.

Saphira was (at least) mollified by my response. How did you survive the fall, and why did the old one not speak of you?

I swallowed. To the first, I asked him not to and he agreed it would be better for both of you to remain ignorant of my existence. As to the second… This subject would be delicate in the extreme, but I saw no good reason to lie to her. She, of every soul on earth, deserved to know. Before I tell you, I have two related statements.

She growled again.

First, I submit to whatever judgment you make. If you want me gone, I will go. If you choose to fight, I may certainly flee but I will not retaliate. I would never lay down and accept death- not while Katana still existed, my vengeance remained unfilled, and Selena's boys still needed me- but neither would I dare harm a single scale on the last free dragon. Second, if you choose to accept my help, I ask that you please conceal my involvement from Eragon.

The first request was met with surprise and apprehension; the second with rage. Her wings opened to make her seem larger. Why should I promise this?

For his safety and his happiness.

She dug her talons into the dusty earth, branches of scrub brush snapping like straw. I will decide after I have heard you. Again, her fangs flashed in the dim light of the waxing moon. I grow tired of such promises.

Katana, projecting her words to both of us, asked, Did Brom ask them of you?

The youngling did not bother to respond, which was all the confirmation we could want.

I sighed and began the painfully slow rise back to my feet. Katana hatched for me outside of the order- she was abandoned by her carriers in the early raids of the thirteen. Since then I have lived and trained with a man I loathe with all my heart and soul; you know him as King Galbatorix.

Predictably, Saphira recoiled and prepared to launch- at me or into the sky was anyone's guess. The Oathbreaker is your master.

So he says. A grim smirk slotted into place all too naturally. He extracted oaths from me a few years back, though before that I stayed with him to undermine his cruelties where I could. Before that… I regret to say that I did his bidding of my own volition.

I felt molten hate in the depths of her heart; hatred much stronger than a creature only a few months old should have to endure. Kin killers.

I shivered despite the relatively warm evening. Of every wretched title in Alagaesia, none was more staunchly reviled or ardently avoided than that of "Kinkiller." It was understood to so blacken the name and heart of any who bore it that they were no longer fully human. The riders had applied this dishonorable name to all those who served Galbatorix in a lump- particularly any who participated in the murder of dragons.

As Katana and I had.

Of all my shames- and I had more than my share to be sure- that one more than any other would haunt me to the grave.

Surprisingly, it was Katana who spoke on my behalf. We were at war. Our Breol told us they were in the right. By the time we learned better, our hands were already bloodied. We are not proud of those days, and do not seek forgiveness. She half withdrew within herself but left enough of the connection intact so Saphira could choose whether to acknowledge the words. Especially from you, sister.

Saphira's tail twitched, but she stayed silent on the subject. Why then, after all this, are you following us?

I took a deep breath- if she decided to reveal all to Eragon, then my sneaking and sulking would be for absolutely nothing. I knew his mother, Selena. I want to protect her son.

This revelation seemed to affect Saphira even more than the last, which was quite unexpected for Katana and me. She relaxed her wings back to her sides, peering at me with redoubled curiosity. Then… you know his father?

The way she asked, and the emphasis she added to the word know- as if there could be some confusion, confirmed for me what her earlier frustration on the subject of oaths had raised. As do you. Is that so?

Yes.

We sat quietly appraising one another for a long moment in eerie silence. True to Katana's prediction, every living thing capable of locomotion was long gone. It left our surroundings unnaturally barren of noise and life. It baffled me that Brom would share the truth with Saphira but not with Eragon- perhaps he felt a vicarious kinship with her on his Saphira's behalf? Privately, I added, If so, why not also reveal the identity of their new traveling companion, or explain my presence?

Making sense of Brom will take historians many decades longer than we have to waste. Katana's interruption was, again, quite welcome. Our guest must hunt and return to her rider, and you must rest. It is time for your judgment, hatchling. Swear to keep our secret or banish us.

Saphira took immediate offense to the diminutive title but only huffed in reply. I will give my word, so long as you keep yours. To me specifically, she said, I can't trust you. But neither do I see any reason to confront you- faster than an elder dragon could dream of moving, she snapped her powerful jaws closed inches from my body - Yet.

I swallowed and released a slow breath as she withdrew from both my proximity and my mind. I bowed low in the elvish fashion and spoke softly to the ground, "Safe travels, finiaril. If this is the last time we meet, then I wish you a long and prosperous reign as the unrivaled queen of the skies." It was dramatic- excessively so- but it was nothing less than the truth. I remained in the pose even as she launched herself skyward, dust churning up and into my face. I gritted my teeth and scrunched my eyes closed until the cloud had settled, then promptly flopped to the ground. All my exhaustion had fled when she first arrived, but it returned in the form of a burning migraine. That could have gone better.

Could have gone worse too. Katana had no patience for my pecimism. She was more awake and alive than she'd been in fifty-odd years. She's a clever one- she said that she detected our scent on the wind two nights ago and has been triangulating where it was strongest since!

You really like her, don't you? It was a balm to a weary heart to see Katana so pleased with the only true peer she was likely to ever meet.

She's talented and capable- I look forward to seeing what she becomes. For my partner, this journey was about far more than Eragon and Murtagh, though she worried for them too. She had a front-row seat to the last scion of her species; a blue hatchling making her way in a cruel world, beloved rider at her side, surviving by her wiles and her skills. It didn't take much extrapolation to see why she was riveted. It seems Dragonkind saved its best for last.

The humility such a statement required bowled me over with surprise. I don't think I've ever heard you praise anyone like this. Should I be jealous?

Don't play stupid. Katana projected an old memory of her licking the top of my head, my then-black hair sticking in the barbs of her tongue like a slimy comb. I love you more than all the world.

Eka kenna, fricai. I reciprocated the memory with one of me scratching along her jawline. That time she'd gotten so lost in the pleasant feeling that she'd accidentally rolled on top of a training dummy and squashed it into kindling. I'm happy for you. Struck with sudden mischief I added, Are we adopting a hatchling? An heiress to the "Whisper Death" name?

Perhaps.

It was both jarring and gratifying to meet Saphira. As much as I wish it could have been under better circumstances, I am in no way ungrateful for the opportunity. She is a shining example of everything a dragon should be, and more besides. Her rider may have been older than many were historically, but he was still little more than a hatchling himself. She took responsibility for his survival and hers with the dignity and assurance that- not so long ago- were quite common in dragons.

Katana adored her the first time we heard her squawking in the woods; meeting her just cemented all of her highest hopes.

I wouldn't find out for many more years that she'd actually first caught my scent lingering around the camp the night I spoke with Murtagh. When it reappeared weeks later she took immediate action to track it down. I'm glad that her young mind didn't automatically connect my presence with his- a more experienced strategist couldn't have done otherwise. Whatever her suspicions may have been, she kept them to herself for that moment.

No one will ever know what Saphira would have done after more time to sift through all the information she held. The fact is that the very next day, I would be leaving my post whether I wanted to or not.

My eyes tingled unpleasantly in their sockets. The sleep deprivation, dry air, and unblinking watch I kept on the horse-mounted figure were enough to crust them over entirely. Even so, I stared until he vanished between the gatehouses of Gil'ead in a mixed company of other travelers. An aching exhale and a slow blink later I was resting on my haunches in a dip between two hills. I'm not sure what possessed them, but it can only mean trouble.

I could ask Saphira?

Normally I would say no, but lingering this close to the military center of the Empire for anything less but a life-or-death emergency is madness.

Katana reached in that direction hesitantly, careful not to disturb the human resting beside the dragon. Some unknown species of raptor-scavenger bird beat a lazy glide over the area between our two camps. It was unlikely to find much by way of carrion in these parts; there was rarely enough nutrients to go around in the first place, let alone have any left behind. I double-checked that my meager lunch was well secured and the scraps well buried; the last thing I needed was a swooping alarm beacon to announce my location. Something else about the bird bothered me, though I couldn't entirely put my finger on it. Uneasy, I decided to nudge Katana along. Any luck?

Apparently, Murtagh is going to meet an old associate of Brom's on Eragon's behalf. She wouldn't say more than that.

What kind of contact could they need? I ran through a tidy list of potential Varden agents believed to be operating in Gil'ead. None were players of any real consequence. Wait. Did Brom give Eragon some random contact instead of just sending him back to Jeod?

Maybe he realized the path to Gil'ead would be less populated.

Or Jeod doesn't have the information they came to get. I itched a fresh bug bite absentmindedly- without the extra eldunari or pendant, I couldn't waste energy warding against bloodsuckers and other annoyances. I normally had the self-control to leave them be, but I was struggling to keep both eyes open at once. Ask her.

She wasn't really-

Please, ask her?

A tenser, longer period of quiet followed the first. Again the soaring bird swooped low, listing into a circle and dropping a few meters in elevation; something had caught its attention. Katana returned to me with a report that they were indeed looking for directions to the Varden. I swore. That's all? If I'd have known-!

But how could you? And how could they know such an option existed?

I was frustrated enough to eat my boots, but I kept a cool timbre. Murtagh has no idea that I've been working with the Varden for years, Saphira knows even less, and Eragon doesn't know that I exist at all. A lifetime of endangering everyone close to me didn't quite prepare me for the idea that keeping them at a distance could be just as dangerous. How was I supposed to know Brom would send them to Gil'ead of all places?

You weren't, but there's nothing we can do. Rest while we wait for Murtagh and then we can-

Oh no, I'm not sleeping now! What if-

Sleep, or I will make you sleep. Her lack of physical body in no way affected my belief that she would and could.

Grudgingly, I curled into a ball and dozed unpleasantly for the rest of the morning. As much as I tried, I couldn't relax long enough to truly rest- even my few stolen moments of sleep were spent drifting through paranoid nightmares. Sometime in the late afternoon or early evening, I abandoned the exercise entirely. This isn't working; I feel too much like we're being watched.

By a bird?

It was more than a jest; the circling scavenger had indeed been a fixture in more than one of my dreams, even as it was still careening over me on the physical plane. I sat up and shook my head in mixed disappointment and reinvigoration. I'll sleep once I know for certain they have their directions and are safely away from this place.

You're barely standing. What will you do if something threatens them in this state?

I unbalanced onto my side before I could even argue the point. I huffed a snarky retort and placed a palm on the ground to help myself back to my feet, leaning to the left and… directly into the blade of a drawn sword. I noticed the odd coolness before I did too much damage, but I still felt the uncanny, slippery sensation of a wickedly sharp edge nipping into flesh.

A voice, soft as moth wings and painfully familiar, surrounded me. "Rise, Princess," it crooned. The words were rough and twisted in the unique cadence peculiar to his kind. The familiar stench of dust and dried blood invaded my senses- he must have been concealing himself with a whole web of spells until he'd judged it safe enough to strike. "There is someone who would like to speak with you."

"Durza." I ground the name out from behind clenched teeth, heart hammering into my windpipe. "How did you manage to sneak up on me?"

"I'm cleverer than the average predator." The shade angled his blade and lifted so that I had to either obey his command or let him slice off my ear.

I stood. Katana, warn Saphira!

Right awa- A frenzied wave of thoughts engulfed us from every side. Katana and I managed to throw up a wall fast enough to not be totally overwhelmed, but we were as good as trapped in our own defenses.

"Only a bit," I grit my teeth and snarled; not even a convincing facade of confidence. "Perhaps I was too lax."

"Perhaps," he agreed. His too-keen eyes raked me head to toe as his too-keen blade scraped against my throat. At long lost he whispered, "It may come as some small comfort that I have not been ordered to capture you."

For some reason, the shade's words were less than comforting. "A real overachiever then. Your keeper will be pleased."

I felt the twitch of malice that shot through him by way of an extra nick to my skin. "Speaking of pleasure, you still owe me a fairth." He laughed-or, at least, his ghoulish face approximated a smile and choppy exclamations emerged from his gaping lips. "One of our slave driver, 'on his knees in gratitude.' "

"Sheath your weapon and I'll paint it right here." Lack of thanks aside, I could picture Torix on his knees easily enough.

"Actually, I had a different trade in mind. But first," He nodded over my shoulder and toward what I knew to be Eragon's camp. "Let us establish that you will be on your best behavior," he leaned in and mouthed, "he only needs the dragon."

I was so livid I wanted to spit. Or, at the very least, to choke the bastard. "I'm flattered that you believe I could cause you trouble."

"Your father once said something similar to me." Durza lifted his free hand and swept it dispassionately over both of us. "I didn't believe his humility, and I don't believe yours."

"Seems that being right didn't do you much good in the end."

"An excellent summary," he said dryly. "Now, if you're finished-"

"I can go on like this all night-"

"My proposal is-"

"I'm flattered, but I'm more of a bachelor-"

The shade stepped around me and tilted his weapon until the tip jabbed straight into the soft underside of my chin. He glowered down at me with a cold hate that even Galbatorix could only imitate. His crisp hiss was all the more shocking when he intoned, "You loathe that disaster of a man you call 'father' almost as much as I do."

Unable to swallow without cutting myself, I suddenly felt a pressing urge to do so. "More." He made a disparaging face and I curled a lip. "There are things that he can't take from you."

Durza shrugged his acceptance of the point, which I thought surprisingly courteous for him. "Join me. My allies and I seek freedom from his binds, and should any of us find that freedom it will be shared with all the rest."

My disbelief was so powerful that I almost forgot myself and swallowed. "Your oaths shouldn't even allow a conversation like this, let alone recruiting your own subordinates-"

"And you follow the spirit of all your orders?" The treason required to put me where I now stood was a better answer to his question than words could ever be. "I saw it in your face when we visited the flesh-eaters of Dras Leona; you want out of his grip too. You're like them- like me! Just another curiosity he keeps around to make himself feel secure." The wounds to this creature's pride ran deeper than I first suspected. If even a fraction of his proclaimed rage was real, Torix might be in real danger. "That is exactly why we are in the perfect position to rip him from his throne and cast him into the dirt where he belongs."

"Dirt is too good for him," I mumbled, dazed.

"Then we are aligned?" The bite of eagerness underlying his grandiose manner of speaking turned my blood cold. He lowered the tip of his sword fractionally, just enough to let me answer him in force.

Just enough to take the last desperate chance that was open to me. I pitched my head back, hands jolting back to catch my bend and legs flying up to push the monster farther from me. He was much more solid than his slight frame would suggest! Luckily, I'd surprised him enough to make him stagger back a step as my first foot punched into his gut and the second swung toward his head.

He was out of range before the second could land. I finished the sloppy flip with a hectic roll, all too aware of just how outmatched I was against Durza at this level of exhaustion and with oaths tying my hands.

A chorus of vicious cursing reached through my- now quite literally- pounding headache. "Have it your way, Princess. Rot with your maker in the Hell he's building for you! Draumr kopa."

I flinched when I caught the familiar lilt of the ancient language on the air, but his chosen spell was more confusing than threatening…

Until the person he'd contacted spoke.

If a decade apart from it couldn't erase that buttery, silken, dangerous voice's effects from my soul then a handful of months certainly couldn't. Even worse than the sickeningly familiar tone of the speaker were the words directed at its conjurer. "What is this, Durza? Why are you disturbing us in the middle of a meeting-"

"A gift, sire." I caught the glint of a tiny hand mirror as he tilted it toward me. Bronze skin surrounded by blackness Cold panic coursed through me. No thoughts broke the chain of commands that went from my hammering heart, to my aching brain, and back down my arms. I raised them both in sync, but the left was caught in the shade's bruising grip almost immediately. He abandoned his sword to enable the move; confident that my oaths would protect him. His left hand clutched the wretched mirror, which left my right free to still hurtle towards my ear. I ducked into my left hand at the same time, desperately trying to skewer my eardrums. (My oaths prevented ignoring Galbatorix, but they said nothing about intentionally disabling my ability to hear him.)

The left side of my head exploded in pain. The right hurtled to accomplish the same-

"Lilleth, Stop!"

A direct command from an unmistakable source froze me in a full-body vice. Warm blood seeped over the finger blade still cutting me, but the right side was paralyzed at the threshold of my intact ear. Durza was staring at me with something other than hate- if anything, I sensed approval radiating off the beast as he released his grip. I hissed in pain but otherwise refused to acknowledge the situation in the slightest.

"Stand at attention."

I obeyed, eyes fixed on the distant horizon, picturing my soul floating off into the setting sun.

"Good. Now, patch yourself up and report to Uru'baen immediately. You will not stop, eat, drink, rest, or even speak until you stand before me again. Is that clear?"

A single hot tear escaped each of my burning eyes. I nodded and lifted my bloodied hand, palm glowing for the healing mantra running through my aching head.

"And Durza, I don't want to hear your voice again until you have the Rider in hand."

"Of course, Your Majesty," the shade purred. "Though it may interest you to know that we have received a report just moments ago that Morzan's spawn is also in the city."

The king's reply was almost musical it was so laced with satisfaction. "Prioritize the boy and his partner, but if Morzansson is foolish enough to wander into your hands…" He let the matter trail off into Durza's- devilishly unpleasant- imagination. "You are both dismissed." His face faded from the mirror and was replaced with my own blood-spotted, miserable expression.

The compulsive, burning itch of his commandments invaded my limbs. I knew from agonizing experience that it would only worsen with every attempt I made to resist until I either passed out from the strain (and awoke too weak to resist a second time) or obeyed. One leaden foot stretched out in front of me, then another in the perfect direction of home; of Hell.

"Safe travels, Highness."

I turned a poisonous glare on the shade, but he only wiggled his fingers, swept his musty robes in a dramatic turn, and stalked back toward Gil'ead. His exit was somewhat spoiled, however, by the sudden flash of blue visible over the hilltops as Saphira hurtled into the distance, a shadowed figure clutched in her claw. Over my shoulder, I caught the tension that jolted through the formerly smug figure. It wasn't particularly funny, but I laughed anyway. Aw, poor Durza. Good luck explaining to Torix how you were too busy trying to double-cross him to do your own job properly.

Only one escaped with her. Katana was as crestfallen as I'd ever seen her.

That will have to be enough. Hopefully, they can look after each other. And, if not, I need to reach Uru'baen before the hostage does. The unlucky one will need all the support they can get.

What about you?

I shrugged, already grieving the ache in my limbs that my over-exertion these past weeks had caused- how much would be left of me when I finally rolled back into Uru'baen? And how much less when Galbatorix was through with me? I've seen worse. A bolstering surge of energy flooded my body; everything Katana could spare.

She didn't even let me thank her. I expect a big fish dinner once he releases you.

I smiled, unhappy as I was.

I can't quite put a finger on which of my many flaws led to this humiliation. Was it hubris, thinking I could simply power through the demands of exhaustion and still be capable of helping anyone? Was it arrogance that I was oh-so-powerful that no threat would actually pose much danger besides Torix himself? Was it fear driving me to shameful distraction?

Was it all of these in a lump?

In any case, my doom was certain the moment I heard his voice again. I marched- painfully- back to Uru'baen. There was a contingent of guards ready to escort me through the final stretch of my half-dead parade. But even these abandoned me when I entered the throne room.

It's probably best to leave the next stretch of days off record entirely; no good can come from expounding on them. Torix dug around for information on the rider and his adventures- of course he did- but there was little I knew about Eragon himself. (Katana sheltered a tiny core of memories that I had retained- Eragon's heritage, my new friends in Teirm, The Ra'zac's charitable deal, Durza's fascinating little confession, and the few other tidbits I'd discussed with Brom. This took the information surgically from my mind; in essence, I forgot it entirely until she deemed it was safe for me to remember. Magic- at least, I classify it as a kind of magic- like this is harmful to the brain, but it is far less harmful than betraying innocent people to a maniac.) This added layer of uncooperativeness frustrated my jailer almost as much as my disobedience. Suffice it to say that the penalty was… steep.

For myself, I will note that, even knowing how it must end, I am glad that I threw my lot in with Brom. It gave me a sense of closure on a subject I'd long lost hope of ever resolving, allowed me to meet some truly fascinating people, and gave me something I had not found in a long time: hope. It was a frail and starved kind of light, but I was grateful for it anyway.

It was the last one I'd have for quite some time.

AN: I lived! Aside from some minor anesthesia sickness the days following, everything went fine. I'm mostly weight bearing on the leg in question now, so long as I'm cane-assisted. ^w^ (Also, I fear that I over-worried Grimm and others with my confusing lunch comment! The surgery was on my knee; I have been eating normally since the initial nausea wore off ^^;; Sorry for any added anxiety on my behalf! I more meant to say that I'd be bored while I was laid up. Alls well!)

I acutally started working on this chapter in the waiting room pre-operation XD Anything to take my mind off of things, ya know? And while I was sitting there I made the impulsive decision that Saphira Bjartskular deserved a cameo! The impact this may or may not have on the narrative has not been fully examined, but I enjoyed writing it too much to edit it out! We're flying a blind here folks~~~

Please feel free to comment anything at all~ Read me for filth, say sup, discuss the hierarchy of cake flavors, expound on the existence of toads... there are no rules; it's a lawless land. Wish me luck ;) Peace and love, stay safe out there.