The horses backpedaled wildly, trying to bolt. Eragon reached out with his mind to steady them.Behind you! cried Saphira. He turned and glimpsed the lead Urgal running at him, heavy spear raised. Up close a Kull was as tall as a small giant, with legs and arms as thick as tree trunks.

Murtagh drew back his arm and threw his sword with incredible speed. The long weapon revolved once, then struck the Kull point first in the chest with a dull crunch. The huge Urgal toppled to the ground with a strangled gurgle. Before another Kull could attack, Murtagh dashed forward and yanked his sword out of the body.

Eragon raised his palm, shouting, “Jierda theirra kalfis!” Sharp cracks resounded off the cliff. Twenty of the charging Urgals fell into Kóstha-mérna, howling and clutching their legs where shards of bone protruded. Without breaking stride, the rest of the Urgals advanced over their fallen companions. Eragon struggled against his weariness, putting a hand on Saphira for support.

A flight of arrows, impossible to see in the darkness, brushed past them and clattered against the cliff. Eragon and Murtagh ducked, covering their heads. With a small growl, Saphira jumped over them so that her armored sides shielded them and the horses. A chorus of clinks sounded as a second volley of arrows bounced off her scales.

“What now?” shouted Murtagh. There was still no opening in the cliff. “We can’t stay here!”

Eragon heard Saphira snarl as an arrow caught the edge of her wing, tearing the thin membrane. He looked around wildly, trying to understand why Arya’s instructions had not worked. “I don’t know! This is where we’re supposed to be!”

“Why don’t you ask the elf to make sure?” demanded Murtagh. He dropped his sword, snatched his bow from Tornac’s saddlebags, and with a swift motion loosed an arrow from between the spikes on Saphira’s back. A moment later an Urgal toppled into the water.

“Now? She’s barely alive! How’s she going to find the energy to say anything?”

“I don’tknow, ” shouted Murtagh, “but you’d better think ofsomething because we can’t stave off an entire army!”

Eragon,growled Saphira urgently.

What!

We’re on the wrong side of the lake! I’ve seen Arya’s memories through you, and I just realized that this isn’t the right place.She tucked her head against her breast as another flight of arrows sped toward them. Her tail flicked in pain as they struck her.I can’t keep this up! They’re tearing me to pieces!

Eragon slammed Zar’roc back into its sheath and exclaimed, “The Varden are on the other side of the lake. We have to go through the waterfall!” He noted with dread that the Urgals across Kóstha-mérna were almost to the falls.

Murtagh’s eyes shot toward the violent deluge blocking their way. “We’ll never get the horses through there, even if we can hold our own footing.”

“I’ll convince them to follow us,” snapped Eragon. “And Saphira can carry Arya.” The Urgals’ cries and bellows made Snowfire snort angrily. The elf lolled on his back, oblivious to the danger.

Murtagh shrugged. “It’s better than being hacked to death.” He swiftly cut Arya loose from Snowfire’s saddle, and Eragon caught the elf as she slid to the ground.

I’m ready,said Saphira, rising into a half-crouch. The approaching Urgals hesitated, unsure of her intentions.

“Now!” cried Eragon. He and Murtagh heaved Arya onto Saphira, then secured her legs in the saddle’s straps. The second they were finished, Saphira swept up her wings and soared over the lake. The Urgals behind her howled as they saw her escaping. Arrows clattered off her belly. The Kull on the other shore redoubled their pace so as to attain the waterfall before she landed.

Eragon reached out with his mind to force himself into the frightened thoughts of the horses. Using the ancient language, he told them that unless they swam through the waterfall, they would be killed and eaten by the Urgals. Though they did not understand everything he said, the meaning of his words was unmistakable.

Snowfire and Tornac tossed their heads, then dashed into the thundering downpour, whinnying as it struck their backs. They floundered, struggling to stay above water. Murtagh sheathed his sword and jumped after them; his head disappeared under a froth of bubbles before he bobbed up, sputtering.

The Urgals were right behind Eragon; he could hear their feet crunching on the gravel. With a fierce war cry he leapt after Murtagh, closing his eyes a second before the cold water pummeled him.

The tremendous weight of the waterfall slammed down on his shoulders with backbreaking force. The water’s mindless roar filled his ears. He was driven to the bottom, where his knees gouged the rocky lakebed. He kicked off with all his strength and shot partway out of the water. Before he could take a gulp of air, the cascade rammed him back underwater.

All he could see was a white blur as foam billowed around him. He frantically tried to surface and relieve his burning lungs, but he only rose a few feet before the deluge halted his ascent. He panicked, thrashing his arms and legs, fighting the water. Weighed down by Zar’roc and his drenched clothes, he sank back to the lakebed, unable to speak the ancient words that could save him.

Suddenly a strong hand grasped the back of his tunic and dragged him through the water. His rescuer sliced through the lake with quick, short strokes; Eragon hoped it was Murtagh, not an Urgal. They surfaced and stumbled onto the pebble beach. Eragon was trembling violently; his entire body shivered in bursts.