Christopher Paolini - Inheritance

Nasuada lifted her chin. “I could order you to stay.”

“I hope you don’t. I would prefer to leave in friendship, not anger.”

“So you will answer to no one but yourself?”

“I will answer to Saphira and to my conscience, as I always have.”

The edge of Nasuada’s lip curled. “A man of conscience-the most dangerous kind in the world.”

Once more, the sounds of the fountain filled the gap in their conversation.

Then Nasuada said, “Do you believe in the gods, Eragon?”

“Which gods? There are many.”

“Any of them. All of them. Do you believe in a power higher than yourself?”

“Other than Saphira?” He smiled in apology as Nasuada frowned. “Sorry.” He thought seriously for a minute, then said, “Perhaps they exist; I don’t know. I saw … I’m not sure what I saw, but I may have seen the dwarf god Guntera in Tronjheim when Orik was crowned. But if there are gods, I don’t think very highly of them for leaving Galbatorix on the throne for so long.”

“Perhaps you were the gods’ instrument for removing him. Did you ever consider that?”

“Me?” He laughed. “I suppose it could be, but either way, they certainly don’t care very much whether we live or die.”

“Of course not. Why should they? They are gods.… Do you worship any of them, though?” The question seemed of particular importance to Nasuada.

Again Eragon thought for a while. Then he shrugged. “There are so many, how could I know which ones to choose?”

“Why not the creator of them all, Unulukuna, who offers life ever lasting?”

Eragon could not help but chuckle. “As long as I don’t fall sick and no one kills me, I may live for a thousand years or more, and if I live that long, I can’t imagine I would want to continue on after death. What else can a god offer me? With the Eldunari, I have the strength to do most anything.”

“The gods also provide the chance to see those we love again. Don’t you want that?”

He hesitated. “I do, but I don’t want to endure for an eternity. That seems even more frightening than someday passing into the void, as the elves believe.”

Nasuada appeared troubled. “So you do not hold yourself accountable to anyone other than Saphira and yourself.”

“Nasuada, am I a bad person?”

She shook her head.

“Then trust me to do what I believe is right. I hold myself accountable to Saphira and the Eldunari and all of the Riders who are yet to be, and also to you and Arya and Orik and everyone else in Alagaesia. I need no master to punish me in order to behave as I ought. If I did, I would be no more than a child who obeys his father’s rules only because he fears the whip, and not because he actually means good.”

She gazed at him for several seconds. “Very well, then, I will trust you.”

The splashing of the fountain once more achieved prominence. Overhead, the light from the sinking sun picked out cracks and flaws in the underside of the stone shelf.

“What if we need your help?” she asked.

“Then I’ll help. I won’t abandon you, Nasuada. I’ll bind one of the mirrors in your study with a mirror of my own, so that you will always be able to reach me, and I’ll do the same for Roran and Katrina. If trouble arises, I’ll find a way to send assistance. I may not be able to come myself, but I will help.”

She nodded. “I know you will.” Then she sighed, unhappiness plain on her face.

“What?” he asked.

“It was all going so well. Galbatorix is dead. The last of the fighting has settled down. We were going to finally solve the problem of the magicians. You and Saphira were going to lead them and the Riders. And now … I don’t know what we’ll do.”

“It’ll sort out; I’m sure. You’ll find a way.”

“It would be easier with you here.… Will you at least agree to teach the name of the ancient language to whomever we choose to lead the magicians?”

Eragon did not have to think about it, since he had already considered the possibility, but he paused while he tried to find the right words. “I could, but in time, I think we would come to regret it.”

“So you won’t.”

He shook his head.

Frustration crossed her face. “And why not? What are your reasons now?”

“The name is too dangerous to bandy about lightly, Nasuada. If a magician full of ambition but lacking scruples got hold of it, he or she could wreak an incredible amount of havoc. With it, they could destroy the ancient language. Not even Galbatorix was mad enough to do that, but an untrained, power-hungry magician? Who knows what might happen? Right now, Arya, Murtagh, and the dragons are the only ones besides me who know the name. Better to leave it at that.”

“And when you go, we will be dependent upon Arya, should we have need of it.”

“You know she will always help. If anything, I would worry about Murtagh.”

Nasuada seemed to turn inward. “You needn’t. He’s no threat to us. Not now.”

“As you say. If your goal is to keep the spellcasters in check, then the name of the ancient language is one piece of information that is better to withhold.”

“If that is truly the case, then … I understand.”

“Thank you. There’s something else you should know as well.”

Nasuada’s expression grew wary. “Oh?”

He told her, then, about the idea that had recently occurred to him concerning the Urgals. When he finished, Nasuada was quiet for a while. Then she said, “You take much upon yourself.”

“I have to. No one else can.… Do you approve? It seems the only way to ensure peace in the long run.”

“Are you sure it’s wise?”

“Not entirely, but I think we have to try.”

“The dwarves as well? Is that really necessary?”

“Yes. It’s only right. It’s only fair. And it will help maintain the balance among the races.”

“What if they don’t agree?”

“I’m sure they will.”

“Then do as you see fit. You don’t need my approval-you’ve made that clear enough-but I agree that it seems necessary. Otherwise, twenty, thirty years from now, we may be facing many of the problems our ancestors faced when they first arrived in Alagaesia.”

He bowed his head slightly. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

“When do you plan on leaving?”

“When Arya does.”

“So soon?”

“There’s no reason to wait longer.”

Nasuada leaned against the railing, her eyes fixed on the fountain below. “Will you return to visit?”

“I’ll try, but … I don’t think so. When Angela cast my fortune, she said I would never return.”

“Ah.” Nasuada’s voice sounded thick, as if she were hoarse. She turned and faced him directly. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

She pressed her lips together, as if struggling not to cry. Then she stepped forward and embraced him. He hugged her back, and they stood like that for several seconds.

They parted then, and he said, “Nasuada, if you ever tire of being queen, or you want a place to live in peace, come join us. You’ll always be welcome in our hall. I cannot make you immortal, but I could prolong your years far beyond what most humans enjoy, and they would be spent in good health.”

“Thank you. I appreciate the offer, and I won’t forget it.” However, he had a feeling that she would never be able to bring herself to leave Alagaesia, no matter how old she was. Her sense of duty was too strong.

Then he asked, “Will you give us your blessing?”

“Of course.” She took his head between her hands, kissed him upon his brow, and said, “My blessings upon you and Saphira. May peace and good fortune be with you wherever you go.”