Christopher Paolini - Inheritance

Then Eragon said, “Open your minds.”

A moment later, the sound of whispering voices seemed to fill the air, and Eragon felt the presence of Umaroth and the other hidden dragons surround them.

The elves staggered, and Arya dropped to one knee, pressing a hand to the side of her head as if she had been struck. Orik uttered a cry and looked about, wild-eyed, while Roran, Jormundur, and Orrin stood dumbfounded.

Queen Islanzadi knelt, adopting a pose much like her daughter’s. In his mind, Eragon heard her speaking to the dragons, greeting many by name and welcoming them as old friends. Blodhgarm did likewise, and for several minutes a flurry of thoughts passed between the dragons and those gathered at the base of the hill.

The mental cacophony was so great, Eragon shielded himself from it and retreated to sit on one of Saphira’s forelegs while he waited for the noise to subside. The elves seemed most affected by the revelation: Blodhgarm stared into the air with an expression of joy and wonder, while Arya continued to kneel. Eragon thought he saw a line of tears on each of her cheeks. Islanzadi beamed with a triumphant radiance, and for the first time since he had met her, Eragon thought she seemed truly happy.

Orik shook himself then and broke from his reverie. Looking over at Eragon, he said, “By Morgothal’s hammer, this puts a new twist on things! With their help, we might actually be able to kill Galbatorix!”

“You didn’t think we could before?” Eragon asked mildly.

“Of course I did. Only not so much as I do now.”

Roran shook himself, as if waking from a dream. “I didn’t.… I knew that you and the elves would fight as hard as you could, but I didn’t believe you could win.” He met Eragon’s gaze. “Galbatorix has defeated so many Riders, and you’re but one, and not that old. It didn’t seem possible.”

“I know.”

“Now, though …” A wolfish look came into Roran’s eyes. “Now we have a chance.”

“Aye,” said Jormundur. “And just think: we no longer have to worry so much about Murtagh. He’s no match for you and the dragons combined.”

Eragon drummed his heels against Saphira’s leg and did not answer. He had other ideas on that front. Besides, he did not like to consider having to kill Murtagh.

Then Orrin spoke up. “Umaroth says that you have devised a battle plan. Do you intend to share it with us, Shadeslayer ?”

“I would like to hear it as well,” said Islanzadi in a kinder tone.

“And I,” said Orik.

Eragon stared at them for a moment, then nodded. To Islanzadi, he said, “Is your army ready to fight?”

“It is. Long we have waited for our vengeance; we need wait no longer.”

“And ours?” Eragon asked, directing his words toward Orrin, Jormundur, and Orik.

“Mine knurlan are eager for battle,” proclaimed Orik.

Jormundur glanced at King Orrin. “Our men are tired and hungry, but their will is unbroken.”

“The Urgals too?”

“Them too.”

“Then we attack.”

“When?” demanded Orrin.

“At first light.”

For a moment, no one spoke.

Roran broke the silence. “Easy to say, hard to do. How?”

Eragon explained.

When he finished, there was another silence.

Roran squatted and began to draw in the dirt with the tip of a finger. “It’s risky.”

“But bold,” said Orik. “Very bold.”

“There are no safe paths anymore,” said Eragon. “If we can catch Galbatorix unprepared, even a bit, it might be enough to tip the scales.”

Jormundur rubbed his chin. “Why not kill Murtagh first? That’s the part I don’t understand. Why not finish him and Thorn while we have the chance?”

“Because,” Eragon replied, “then Galbatorix would know of them .” And he motioned toward where the hidden Eldunari floated. “We would lose the advantage of surprise.”

“What of the child?” Orrin asked harshly. “What makes you think that she will accommodate you? She hasn’t before.”

“This time she will,” Eragon promised, more confidently than he felt.

The king grunted, unconvinced.

Then Islanzadi said, “Eragon, it is a great and terrible thing you propose. Are you willing to do this? I ask not because I doubt your dedication or your bravery, but because this is something to be undertaken only after much consideration. So I ask you: are you willing to do this, even knowing what the cost may be?”

Eragon did not rise, but he allowed a bit of steel to enter his voice. “I am. It must be done, and we are the ones to whom the task has fallen. Whatever the cost, we cannot turn away now.”

As a sign of her agreement, Saphira opened her jaws a few inches and then snapped them shut, punctuating the end of his sentence.

Islanzadi turned her face toward the sky. “And do you and those you speak for approve of this, Umaroth-elda?”

We do , replied the white dragon.

“Then here we go,” Roran murmured.

The ten of them-including Umaroth-continued to talk for another hour. Orrin required more convincing, and there were numerous details to decide: questions of timing and placement and signaling.

Eragon was relieved when Arya said, “Unless either you or Saphira object, I will accompany you tomorrow.”

“We would be glad to have you,” he said.

Islanzadi stiffened. “What good would that accomplish? Your talents are needed elsewhere, Arya. Blodhgarm and the other spellcasters I assigned to Saphira and Eragon are more skilled at magic than you and more experienced in battle as well. Remember, they fought against the Forsworn, and unlike many, they lived to tell of it. Many of the elder members of our race would volunteer to take your place. It would be selfish to insist upon going when there are others better suited for the task who are willing and close at hand.”

“I think no one is as suited for the task as Arya,” Eragon said in a calm voice. “And there is no one, other than Saphira, I would rather have by my side.”

Islanzadi kept her gaze upon Arya and to Eragon said, “You are still young, Shadeslayer, and you are allowing your emotions to cloud your judgment.”

“No, Mother,” said Arya. “It is you who are allowing your emotions to cloud your judgment.” She moved toward Islanzadi with long, graceful steps. “You are right, there are others who are stronger, wiser, and more experienced than I. But it was I who ferried Saphira’s egg about Alagaesia. I who helped save Eragon from the Shade Durza. And I who, with Eragon’s help, killed the Shade Varaug in Feinster. Like Eragon, I am now a Shadeslayer, and you well know that I swore myself in service to our people long ago. Who else among our kind can claim as much? Even if I wanted to, I would not turn away from this. I would sooner die. I am as prepared for this challenge as any of our elders, for it is to this I have devoted the whole of my life, as has Eragon.”

“And the whole of your life has been so short,” said Islanzadi. She put a hand up to Arya’s face. “You have devoted yourself to fighting Galbatorix all these years since your father’s death, but you know little of the joys life can provide. And in those years, we have spent such a small amount of time together: a handful of days scattered throughout a century. It is only since you brought Saphira and Eragon to Ellesmera that we have begun to speak once more, as a mother and daughter ought. I would not lose you again so soon, Arya.”

“It was not I who chose to remain apart,” said Arya.

“No,” said Islanzadi, and she took her hand away. “But it was you who chose to leave Du Weldenvarden.” Her expression softened. “I do not wish to argue, Arya. I understand that you see this as your duty, but please, for my sake, will you not allow another to take your place?”