Eldest
Page 192
Angela blinked three times, one right after the other, and her mouth remained open for a moment in a small “O” before she clamped it shut. With a glare of suspicion, she asked, “You’re not saying that just to placate me, are you?”
“I would never.”
“And you really intend to undo your curse? I thought such things were irrevocable.”
“The elves have discovered many uses of magic.”
“Ah . . . Well, then, that’s settled, isn’t it?” She flashed him a wide smile and then strode past him to pat Saphira on her jowls. “It’s good to see you again, Saphira. You’ve grown.”
Well met indeed, Angela.
As Angela returned to stirring her concoction, Eragon said, “That was an impressive tirade you gave.”
“Thank you. I worked on it for several weeks. It’s a pity you didn’t get to hear the ending; it’smemorable. I could finish it for you if you want.”
“No, that’s all right. I can imagine what it’s like.” Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, Eragon then said, “You don’t seem surprised by how I’ve changed.”
The herbalist shrugged. “I have my sources. It’s an improvement, in my opinion. You were a bit . . . oh, how shall I say it? . . .unfinished before.”
“That I was.” He gestured at the hanging plants. “What do you plan to do with these?”
“Oh, it’s just a little project of mine—an experiment, if you will.”
“Mmm.” Examining the pattern of colors on a dried mushroom that dangled before him, Eragon asked, “Did you ever figure out if toads exist or not?”
“As a matter of fact, I did! It seems that all toads are frogs, but not all frogs are toads. So in that sense, toads don’t really exist, which means that I was right all along.” She stopped her patter abruptly, leaned to the side, grabbed a mug from a bench next to her, and offered it to Eragon. “Here, have a cup of tea.”
Eragon glanced at the deadly plants surrounding them and then back at Angela’s open face before he accepted the mug. Under his breath—so the herbalist would not hear—he muttered three spells to detect poison. Only once he ascertained that the tea was free of contamination did he dare drink. The tea was delicious, though he could not identify the ingredients.
At that moment, Solembum padded over to Saphira and began to arch his back and rub himself up against her leg, just as any normal cat would. Twisting her neck, Saphira bent down and with the tip of her nose brushed the werecat the length of his spine. She said,I met someone in Ellesméra who knows you.
Solembum stopped rubbing and cocked his head.Is that so?
Yes. Her name was Quickpaw and The Dream Dancer and also Maud.
Solembum’s golden eyes widened. A deep, throaty purr rumbled in his chest, and he rubbed against Saphira with renewed vigor.
“So,” said Angela, “I assume you already spoke with Nasuada, Arya, and King Orrin.” He nodded. “And what did you think of dear old Orrin?”
Eragon chose his words with care, for he was aware that theywere talking about a king. “Well . . . he seems to have a great many interests.”
“Yes, he’s as balmy as a moonstruck fool on Midsummer Night Eve. But then everyone is, in one way or another.”
Amused by her forthrightness, Eragon said, “He must be crazy to have carted so much glass all the way from Aberon.”
Angela raised an eyebrow. “What’s this now?”
“Haven’t you seen the inside of his tent?”
“Unlike some people,” she sniffed, “I don’t ingratiate myself with every monarch I meet.” So he described for her the mass of instruments Orrin had brought to the Burning Plains. Angela abandoned her stirring as he spoke and listened with great interest. The instant he finished, she began bustling around the cauldron, gathering the plants off the lines—often using tongs to do so—and saying, “I think I had best pay Orrin a visit. The two of you will have to tell me about your trip to Ellesméra at a later time. . . . Well, go on, both of you. Be gone!”
Eragon shook his head as the short little woman drove him and Saphira away from her tent, and he still holding the cup of tea.Talking with her is always . . .
Different?suggested Saphira.
Exactly.
THECLOUDS OFWAR
From there it took them almost half an hour to locate Trianna’s tent, which apparently served as the unofficial headquarters of Du Vrangr Gata. They had difficulty finding the tent because few people knew of its existence, and even fewer could tell them where it lay because the tent was hidden behind a spur of rock that served to conceal it from the gaze of enemy magicians in Galbatorix’s army.
As Eragon and Saphira approached the black tent, the entrance was thrust open and Trianna strode out, her arms bare to the elbow in preparation to use magic. Behind her clustered a group of determined if frightened-looking spellcasters, many of whom Eragon had seen during the battle in Farthen Dûr, either fighting or healing the wounded.
Eragon watched as Trianna and the others reacted with the now-expected surprise at his altered appearance. Lowering her arms, Trianna said, “Shadeslayer, Saphira. You should have told us sooner that you were here. We’ve been preparing to confront and battle what we thought was a mighty foe.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” said Eragon, “but we had to report to Nasuada and King Orrin immediately after we landed.”
“I would never.”
“And you really intend to undo your curse? I thought such things were irrevocable.”
“The elves have discovered many uses of magic.”
“Ah . . . Well, then, that’s settled, isn’t it?” She flashed him a wide smile and then strode past him to pat Saphira on her jowls. “It’s good to see you again, Saphira. You’ve grown.”
Well met indeed, Angela.
As Angela returned to stirring her concoction, Eragon said, “That was an impressive tirade you gave.”
“Thank you. I worked on it for several weeks. It’s a pity you didn’t get to hear the ending; it’smemorable. I could finish it for you if you want.”
“No, that’s all right. I can imagine what it’s like.” Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, Eragon then said, “You don’t seem surprised by how I’ve changed.”
The herbalist shrugged. “I have my sources. It’s an improvement, in my opinion. You were a bit . . . oh, how shall I say it? . . .unfinished before.”
“That I was.” He gestured at the hanging plants. “What do you plan to do with these?”
“Oh, it’s just a little project of mine—an experiment, if you will.”
“Mmm.” Examining the pattern of colors on a dried mushroom that dangled before him, Eragon asked, “Did you ever figure out if toads exist or not?”
“As a matter of fact, I did! It seems that all toads are frogs, but not all frogs are toads. So in that sense, toads don’t really exist, which means that I was right all along.” She stopped her patter abruptly, leaned to the side, grabbed a mug from a bench next to her, and offered it to Eragon. “Here, have a cup of tea.”
Eragon glanced at the deadly plants surrounding them and then back at Angela’s open face before he accepted the mug. Under his breath—so the herbalist would not hear—he muttered three spells to detect poison. Only once he ascertained that the tea was free of contamination did he dare drink. The tea was delicious, though he could not identify the ingredients.
At that moment, Solembum padded over to Saphira and began to arch his back and rub himself up against her leg, just as any normal cat would. Twisting her neck, Saphira bent down and with the tip of her nose brushed the werecat the length of his spine. She said,I met someone in Ellesméra who knows you.
Solembum stopped rubbing and cocked his head.Is that so?
Yes. Her name was Quickpaw and The Dream Dancer and also Maud.
Solembum’s golden eyes widened. A deep, throaty purr rumbled in his chest, and he rubbed against Saphira with renewed vigor.
“So,” said Angela, “I assume you already spoke with Nasuada, Arya, and King Orrin.” He nodded. “And what did you think of dear old Orrin?”
Eragon chose his words with care, for he was aware that theywere talking about a king. “Well . . . he seems to have a great many interests.”
“Yes, he’s as balmy as a moonstruck fool on Midsummer Night Eve. But then everyone is, in one way or another.”
Amused by her forthrightness, Eragon said, “He must be crazy to have carted so much glass all the way from Aberon.”
Angela raised an eyebrow. “What’s this now?”
“Haven’t you seen the inside of his tent?”
“Unlike some people,” she sniffed, “I don’t ingratiate myself with every monarch I meet.” So he described for her the mass of instruments Orrin had brought to the Burning Plains. Angela abandoned her stirring as he spoke and listened with great interest. The instant he finished, she began bustling around the cauldron, gathering the plants off the lines—often using tongs to do so—and saying, “I think I had best pay Orrin a visit. The two of you will have to tell me about your trip to Ellesméra at a later time. . . . Well, go on, both of you. Be gone!”
Eragon shook his head as the short little woman drove him and Saphira away from her tent, and he still holding the cup of tea.Talking with her is always . . .
Different?suggested Saphira.
Exactly.
THECLOUDS OFWAR
From there it took them almost half an hour to locate Trianna’s tent, which apparently served as the unofficial headquarters of Du Vrangr Gata. They had difficulty finding the tent because few people knew of its existence, and even fewer could tell them where it lay because the tent was hidden behind a spur of rock that served to conceal it from the gaze of enemy magicians in Galbatorix’s army.
As Eragon and Saphira approached the black tent, the entrance was thrust open and Trianna strode out, her arms bare to the elbow in preparation to use magic. Behind her clustered a group of determined if frightened-looking spellcasters, many of whom Eragon had seen during the battle in Farthen Dûr, either fighting or healing the wounded.
Eragon watched as Trianna and the others reacted with the now-expected surprise at his altered appearance. Lowering her arms, Trianna said, “Shadeslayer, Saphira. You should have told us sooner that you were here. We’ve been preparing to confront and battle what we thought was a mighty foe.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” said Eragon, “but we had to report to Nasuada and King Orrin immediately after we landed.”
