The tawny werecat walked past Eragon without looking at him, jumped onto his cot, and settled among his blankets, whereupon he began to lick the webbing between the claws of his right paw. Still not looking at Eragon, he said, I am not a dog to come and go at your summons, Eragon. “I never thought you were,” Eragon replied. “But I have need of you, and it is urgent.” Mmh. The rasping of Solembum’s tongue grew louder as he concentrated on the leathery palm of his foot. Speak then, Shadeslayer. What do you want? “One moment.” Eragon stood and went over to the pole where his lantern hung. “I’m going to light this,” he warned Solembum. Then Eragon spoke a word in the ancient language, and a flame sprang to life atop the wick of the lantern, filling the tent with a warm, flickering illumination. Both Eragon and Solembum squinted while they waited for their eyes to adjust to the increase in brightness. When the light no longer felt quite so uncomfortable, Eragon seated himself on his stool, not far from the cot.
