What a terrible fate, to be unable to fly,said Saphira.

When Arya arrived, she eyed the gyrfalcon, then strung her bow and, with unerring aim, shot it through the breast. At first Eragon thought that she had done it for food, but she made no move to retrieve either the bird or her arrow.

“Why?” he asked.

With a hard expression, Arya unstrung her bow. “It was too injured for me to heal and would have died tonight or tomorrow. Such is the nature of things. I saved it hours of suffering.”

Saphira lowered her head and touched Arya on the shoulder with her snout, then returned to their camp, her tail scraping bark off the trees. As Eragon started to follow, he felt Orik tug his sleeve and bent down to hear the dwarf say in an undertone, “Never ask an elf for help; they might decide that you’re better off dead, eh?”

THEDAGSHELGRINVOCATION

Though he was tired from the previous day, Eragon forced himself to rise before dawn in an attempt to catch one of the elves asleep. It had become a game with him to discover when the elves got up—or if they slept at all—as he had yet to see any of them with their eyes closed. Today was no exception.

“Good morning,” said Narí and Lifaen from above him. Eragon craned back his head and saw that they each stood on the bough of a pine tree, over fifty feet in the air. Jumping from branch to branch with feline grace, the elves dropped to the ground alongside him.

“We have been keeping watch,” explained Lifaen.

“For what?”

Arya stepped around a tree and said, “For my fears. Du Weldenvarden has many mysteries and dangers, especially for a Rider. We have lived here for thousands of years, and old spells still linger in unexpected places; magic permeates the air, the water, and the earth. In places it has affected the animals. Sometimes strange creatures are found roaming the forest, and not all of them friendly.”

“Are they—” Eragon stopped as his gedwëy ignasia tingled. The silver hammer on the necklace Gannel had given him grew hot on his chest, and he felt the amulet’s spell draw upon his strength.

Someone was trying to scry him.

Is it Galbatorix?he wondered, frightened. He clutched the necklace and pulled it out of his tunic, ready to yank it off should he become too weak. From the other side of the camp, Saphira rushed to his side, bolstering him with her own reserves of energy.

A moment later, the heat leached out of the hammer, leaving it cold against Eragon’s skin. He bounced it on his palm, then tucked it back under his clothes, whereupon Saphira said,Our enemies are searching for us.

Enemies? Could not it be someone in Du Vrangr Gata?

I think Hrothgar would have told Nasuada that he ordered Gannel to enchant you this necklace. . . . She might have even come up with the idea in the first place.

Arya frowned when Eragon explained what had occurred. “This makes it all the more important we reach Ellesméra quickly so your training can resume. Events in Alagaësia move apace, and I fear you won’t have adequate time for your studies.”

Eragon wanted to discuss it further, but lost the opportunity in the rush to leave camp. Once the canoes were loaded and the fire tamped out, they continued to forge up the Gaena River.

They had only been on the water for an hour when Eragon noticed that the river was growing wider and deeper. A few minutes later, they came upon a waterfall that filled Du Weldenvarden with its throbbing rumble. The cataract was about a hundred feet tall, and streamed down a stone face with an overhang that made it impossible to climb. “How do we get past that?” He could already feel cool spray on his face.

Lifaen pointed at the left shore, some distance from the falls, where a trail had been worn up the steep ridge. “We have to portage our canoes and supplies for half a league before the river clears.”

The five of them untied the bundles wedged between the seats of the canoes and divided the supplies into piles that they stuffed into their packs. “Ugh,” said Eragon, hefting his load. It was twice as heavy as what he usually carried when traveling on foot.

I could fly it upstream for you . . . all of it,offered Saphira, crawling onto the muddy bank and shaking herself dry.

When Eragon repeated her suggestion, Lifaen looked horrified. “We would never dream of using a dragon as a beast of burden. It would dishonor you, Saphira—and Eragon as Shur’tugal—and it would shame our hospitality.”

Saphira snorted, and a plume of flame erupted from her nostrils, vaporizing the surface of the river and creating a cloud of steam.This is nonsense. Reaching past Eragon with one scaly leg, she hooked her talons through the packs’ shoulder straps, then took off over their heads.Catch me if you can!

A peal of clear laughter broke the silence, like the trill of a mockingbird. Amazed, Eragon turned and looked at Arya. It was the first time he had ever heard her laugh; he loved the sound. She smiled at Lifaen. “You have much to learn if you presume to tell a dragon what she may or may not do.”

“But the dishonor—”

“It is no dishonor if Saphira does it of her free will,” asserted Arya. “Now, let us go before we waste any more time.”

Hoping that the strain would not trigger the pain in his back, Eragon picked up his canoe with Lifaen and fit it over his shoulders. He was forced to rely on the elf to guide him along the trail, as he could only see the ground beneath his feet.

An hour later, they had topped the ridge and hiked beyond the dangerous white water to where the Gaena River was once again calm and glassy. Waiting for them was Saphira, who was busy catching fish in the shallows, jabbing her triangular head into the water like a heron.