Eragon crossed his arms, waiting for the woman to notice him. She continued to look at Saphira, then curtsied and asked sweetly, “Please, could you tell me where Rider Eragon is?” Saphira’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

With a small smile, Eragon said, “I am here.”

The woman whirled to face him, hand flying to her dagger. Her face was striking, with almond-shaped eyes, wide lips, and round cheekbones. She relaxed and curtsied again. “I am Nasuada,” she said.

Eragon inclined his head. “You obviously know who I am, but what do you want?”

Nasuada smiled charmingly. “My father, Ajihad, sent me here with a message. Would you like to hear it?”

The Varden’s leader had not struck Eragon as one inclined to marriage and fatherhood. He wondered who Nasuada’s mother was—she must have been an uncommon woman to have attracted Ajihad’s eye. “Yes, I would.”

Nasuada tossed her hair back and recited: “He is pleased that you are doing well, but he cautions you against actions like your benediction yesterday. They create more problems than they solve. Also, he urges you to proceed with the testing as soon as possible—he needs to know how capable you are before he communicates with the elves.”

“Did you climb all the way up here just to tell me that?” Eragon asked, thinking of Vol Turin’s length.

Nasuada shook her head. “I used the pulley system that transports goods to the upper levels. We could have sent the message with signals, but I decided to bring it myself and meet you in person.”

“Would you like to sit down?” asked Eragon. He motioned toward Saphira’s cave.

Nasuada laughed lightly. “No, I am expected elsewhere. You should also know, my father decreed that you may visit Murtagh, if you wish.” A somber expression disturbed her previously smooth features. “I met Murtagh earlier. . . . He’s anxious to speak with you. He seemed lonely; you should visit him.” She gave Eragon directions to Murtagh’s cell.

Eragon thanked her for the news, then asked, “What about Arya? Is she better? Can I see her? Orik wasn’t able to tell me much.”

She smiled mischievously. “Arya is recovering swiftly, as all elves do. No one is allowed to see her except my father, Hrothgar, and the healers. They have spent much time with her, learning all that occurred during her imprisonment.” She swept her eyes over Saphira. “I must go now. Is there anything you would have me convey to Ajihad on your behalf?”

“No, except a desire to visit Arya. And give him my thanks for the hospitality he’s shown us.”

“I will take your words directly to him. Farewell, Rider Eragon. I hope we shall soon meet again.” She curtsied and exited the dragonhold, head held high.

If she really came all the way up Tronjheim just to meet me—pulleys or no pulleys—there was more to this meeting than idle chatter,remarked Eragon.

Aye,said Saphira, withdrawing her head into the cave. Eragon climbed up to her and was surprised to see Solembum curled up in the hollow at the base of her neck. The werecat was purring deeply, his black-tipped tail flicking back and forth. The two of them looked at Eragon impudently, as if to ask, “What?”

Eragon shook his head, laughing helplessly.Saphira, is Solembum who you wanted to meet?

They both blinked at him and answered,Yes.

Just wondering,he said, mirth still bubbling inside him. It made sense that they would befriend each other—their personalities were similar, and they were both creatures of magic. He sighed, releasing some of the day’s tension as he unbuckled Zar’roc.Solembum, do you know where Angela is? I couldn’t find her, and I need her advice.

Solembum kneaded his paws against Saphira’s scaled back.She is somewhere in Tronjheim.

When will she return?

Soon.

How soon?he asked impatiently.I need to talk to her today.

Not that soon.

The werecat refused to say more, despite Eragon’s persistent questions. He gave up and nestled against Saphira. Solembum’s purring was a low thrum above his head.I have to visit Murtagh tomorrow, he thought, fingering Brom’s ring.

A RYA’STEST

On the morning of their third day in Tronjheim, Eragon rolled out of bed refreshed and energized. He belted Zar’roc to his waist and slung his bow and half-full quiver across his back. After a leisurely flight inside Farthen Dûr with Saphira, he met Orik by one of Tronjheim’s four main gates. Eragon asked him about Nasuada.

“An unusual girl,” answered Orik, glancing disapprovingly at Zar’roc. “She’s totally devoted to her father and spends all her time helping him. I think she does more for Ajihad than he knows—there have been times when she’s maneuvered his enemies without ever revealing her part in it.”

“Who is her mother?”

“That I don’t know. Ajihad was alone when he brought Nasuada to Farthen Dûr as a newborn child. He’s never said where he and Nasuada came from.”

So she too grew up without knowing her mother.He shook off the thought. “I’m restless. It’ll be good to use my muscles. Where should I go for this ‘testing’ of Ajihad’s?”

Orik pointed out into Farthen Dûr. “The training field is half a mile from Tronjheim, though you can’t see it from here because it’s behind the city-mountain. It’s a large area where both dwarves and humans practice.”

I’m coming as well,stated Saphira.

Eragon told Orik, and the dwarf tugged on his beard. “That might not be a good idea. There are many people at the training field; you will be sure to attract attention.”