The cool breeze gusted at them as Saphira circled, high above the world. Arya had her arm tightly around his waist and was looking straight ahead. Eragon couldn't have thought of a better way to spend his day despite the fact that he was on a scouting mission. He usually didn't like those, but this time it was different. The weather was perfect for flying and he was spending time with Arya.

Saphira angled down and landed in the woods outside Belatona. It was not hard for two elves disguised by magic as humans to sneak into the city, but a dragon was an entirely different matter. Eragon and Arya dismounted and transformed their appearances into those of two road weary travelers. Then, as they examined their work, Eragon frowned and cast a spell to make their swords invisible to all but them. Finally, they were ready. They walked toward the road leading to the front gate and Eragon couldn't help a smile. There were hundreds of new refuges pouring into the city every day. Why would two more make anyone suspicious?

The disguised rider and elf fell into line behind a family with three young children who all looked as if they were starving. The mother was tireddly trying to hush the youngest child who would not stop his wailing. Eragon wanted to give them the food in his pack, but held back, knowing that it could give them away if they seemed to have more than the others. Gritting his teeth against the hungry child's cries, Eragon continued walking.

They were halted outside the gates and Eragon glanced at Arya. Do not speak. I should be the one to handle this. He felt a flare of anger from her. Think, Arya. What human woman would speak for the man she is traveling with? And your voice is still that of an elf. It betrays that you are no downtrodden human.

As you wish. The tone of her voice remained cold and Eragon was about to continue to appease her when one of the guards walked up to him with a bored look on his face. "What are your names?"

"Evan." Eragon lied easily. "Evan Natansson. This is my wife, Delia."

"What brings you here?"

"Hard times, I'm afraid. We had a farm several leagues from here, but it lay in the path of the Varden. We knew if we didn't flee we would be killed so we took what little money we had and left. I was apprenticed to a locksmith years ago and trained to journeyman level. I was hoping to continue that line of work again here."

The guard laughed. "We are in the path of a large army and you think to find work as a locksmith? Save your time, friend, and join the army. You are young and strong enough I'd wager. Pays well too."

Eragon managed to give the man a grateful smile. "I'll look into that. Where would I go?"

"Go up to the castle and tell them you wish to join. Someone will be sent to speak with you." He waved them through.

"Thank you."

Eragon and Arya passed through the gates and Arya stared at him in amazement. "If I didn't know better, I might have believed you. You spoke as if it was truly your life story."

"I didn't want him suspicious. If we were to be followed today it would make our work much more difficult."

She smiled and continued walking. "Delia?" She pushed.

Eragon turned his head to look at her. "I made it up as I was talking. It had completely slipped my mind to think of fake names. Eragon and Arya Shadeslayer would hardly pass unnoticed. I've used Evan before, but I have learned that two overly common names will attract more suspicion than one uncommon one. Hence, Delia." He shared her smile by then. "Now, Nasuada told us to judge the citizens' loyalty to the king. Are they ardent supporters or resigned slaves? Where shall we start?"

Arya considered it for a minute. "Let's find an inn and eat there. People are more likely to talk over a meal and drink than in the streets. Shall we?"

After two hours of talking to the people of Belatona, Eragon had felt that they had judged the sentiment fairly well. It seemed the lord of Belatona and the richer citizens were loyal, but the lower class was tired of the injustice of the king. There were, of course, some oddities, but for the most part the city seemed restless at best. They went to a different gate to try and get out of the city, a much harder task.

Again, they were stopped at the gates by a guard and again Eragon stepped forward to speak. "We are leaving for Melian. I own a farm there and cannot stand to be away long."

The guard didn't look skeptical, but he eyed them closely. "Then what brought you here?"

Eragon glanced at Arya. "My wife's mother fell ill and we received a letter to come immediately. She was dead before we arrived though." Eragon let a note of sorrow creep into his voice and Arya looked at her feet, seeming for all the world as if she were upset.

"Continue." They walked through, continuing their slow pace until they were out of sight. Then, they ran back to Saphira and Eragon shared with her the day's events. A small fire was lit and they sat around it. Saphira closed her eyes and continued the nap which their return had interrupted.

Arya glanced at her companion. "Eragon, can I talk to you?" She knew the cause of the pained expression he bore when he believed no one was looking was her fault. She regretted that he had been forced to abandon his youth in exchange for the burdens he bore. He had stopped being a child the moment Saphira's egg had hatched for him, and in the following months he had almost entirely shed his youth for an ancient mantle he was not ready to bear, but did because there was no one else.

He looked at her and frowned. "Is something wrong, Arya?" His voice was gentle and concerned. At her request he was immediately listening and alert. Arya's throat tightened and she pressed her eyes closed, unable to respond to his question. Eragon came over and sat next to her. "Arya?"

His voice drew her out of her reverie and she glanced up to meet his eyes. "Why do you continue to pursue me when I have continually turned you away?"

He looked as if she had slapped him. The hurt returned to his eyes with a tinge of confusion. "I love you." They were speaking the ancient language so she knew he could not be lying.

"Why? All I have ever done is cause you pain."

His eyes begged her to stop tormenting him, but he seemed to feel obligated to answer her. "I could give you a thousand reasons, Arya, but when I am around you I feel better. You give me hope when no one else can. If I didn't know you, I don't know how I would convince myself to fight this war."

She was still watching him. Then, she stood. "Thank you for telling me." Without another word, Arya walked off into the woods where no one could see her and began to cry.

When she returned to Eragon and Saphira an hour later, Arya was composed and no one would have guessed how distraught she had been only moments earlier. Eragon was studying her face from by Saphira. He too had been crying; she could tell. He was leaning against Saphira's side and rubbing her scales absently.

As soon as Saphira saw her, she snaked her head over and snarled at Arya, bringing her head only a foot from her face. Arya's defenses of her mind were overwhelmed effortlessly by the angry dragon. What cause do you have for torturing my rider so? It is not enough you continually deny him, but you have to point it out to him when he is trying to be a friend and rub the fact in. Do you know what this is doing to him? Saphira sent a wash of emotions over Arya. She had never guessed the depth of his despair and heartache. He loves you deeply, though I cannot see why. I suggest that, unless you wish me to bring you up to the mountain peaks and drop you, be more kind to my Rider.

"Saphira," Eragon spoke quietly and moved from where he had stood frozen. "Let her be, please."

Saphira turned her head to observe Eragon and then faced Arya once more. Do not think I wouldn't. Arya stood trembling. Every word the dragon had spoken was in the ancient language. She was rooted to the ground until Eragon touched her arm.

"I do not know what she said to you, but I will never let her harm you." Saphira hissed, but he ignored it. "Come on. We should return to the Varden." She got on Saphira's back nervously. She had not known how angry the dragon had become with her. Arya knew the small amount of words Saphira had spoken to her in the last few days had been cold and only spoken when necessary, but she had never suspected it had gone this far.

She stared at Eragon's back as Saphira glided over the camped army. She knew she had to tell him sometime. "I must." She accidentally whispered aloud.

"You must what, Arya." Eragon asked, turning to look at her.

"It's…" She had tried to say it was nothing, but the ancient language stopped the lie before it could be told. "Not yet, Eragon." He seemed puzzled, but turned to face forward again.