Inheritance
Page 127
What, he wondered, lay waiting for them on Vroengard? He was afraid to speculate, lest he raise hopes that were impossible to fulfill.
QUESTIONS UNANSWERED
ragon searched through Domia abr Wyrda until he found the reference to Kuthian in the twelfth chapter. To his disappointment, all it said was that Kuthian had been one of the first Riders to explore Vroengard Island.
Afterward, he closed the book and sat staring at it, thumbing a ridge embossed across the spine. On the cot, Solembum was silent as well.
“Do you think that the Vault of Souls contains spirits?” asked Eragon.
Spirits are not the souls of the dead.
“No, but what else could they be?”
Solembum rose from where he had been sitting and stretched, a wave of motion moving through his body from his head to his tail. If you find out, I would be interested to hear what you discover.
“Do you think Saphira and I should go, then?”
I cannot tell you what you should do. If this is a trap, then most of my race has been broken and enslaved without them realizing it, and the Varden might as well surrender now, because they will never outwit Galbatorix. If not, then this may be an opportunity to find assistance where we thought none was to be had. I cannot say. You have to decide on your own whether it is a chance worth taking. As for me, I have had enough of this mystery.
He jumped down from the cot and walked over to the opening of the tent, where he paused and glanced back at Eragon. There are many strange forces at work in Alagaësia, Shadeslayer. I have seen things that defy belief: whirlwinds of light spinning in caverns deep below the ground, men who age backward, stones that speak, and shadows that creep. Rooms that are bigger on the inside than the outside.… Galbatorix is not the only power in the world to be reckoned with, and he may not even be the strongest. Choose carefully, Shadeslayer, and if you choose to go, walk softly.
And then the werecat slipped out of the tent and vanished into the darkness.
Eragon released his breath and leaned back. He knew what he had to do; he had to go to Vroengard. But he could not make that decision without consulting Saphira.
With a gentle nudge of his mind, he woke her, and once he had assured her that nothing was amiss, he shared his memories of Solembum’s visit. Her astonishment was as great as his.
When he finished, she said, I do not like the thought of playing the puppet to whoever has enchanted the werecats.
Neither do I, but what other choice do we have? If Galbatorix is behind this, then we’ll be placing ourselves in his hands. But if we stay, then we’ll be doing exactly the same, only when we arrive at Urû’baen.
The difference is, we would have the Varden and the elves with us.
That’s true.
Silence fell between them for a time. Then Saphira said, I agree. I agree; we should go. We need longer claws and sharper teeth if we are to best Galbatorix and Shruikan in addition to Murtagh and Thorn. Besides, Galbatorix expects us to rush straight to Urû’baen in hope of rescuing Nasuada. And if there is one thing that makes my scales itch, it is doing what our enemies expect.
Eragon nodded. And if this is a trap?
A soft growl sounded outside the tent. Then we will teach whoever set it to fear our names, even if it is Galbatorix.
He smiled. For the first time since Nasuada’s abduction, he felt a sense of purposeful direction. Here was something they could do—a means by which they could influence the unfolding of events, instead of just sitting by as passive observers. “Right, then,” he muttered.
Arya arrived at his tent mere seconds after he contacted her. Her speed puzzled him until she explained that she had been keeping watch with Blödhgarm and the other elves, lest Murtagh and Thorn return.
With her there, Eragon reached out with his mind to Glaedr and coaxed him into joining their conversation, though the surly dragon was in no mood to talk.
Once the four of them, including Saphira, were all joined by their thoughts, Eragon finally burst out, I know where the Rock of Kuthian is!
What rock is this? Glaedr rumbled, his tone sour.
The name seems familiar, said Arya, but I cannot place it.
Eragon frowned slightly. Both of them had heard him speak of Solembum’s advice before. It was not like either of them to forget.
Nevertheless, Eragon repeated the story of his encounter with Solembum in Teirm, and then he told them about the werecat’s most recent revelations and read them the pertinent section from the book Domia abr Wyrda.
Arya tucked a strand of hair behind one of her pointed ears. Speaking both with her mind and her voice, she said, “And what is the name of this place again?”
“… Moraeta’s Spire, or the Rock of Kuthian,” replied Eragon in the same manner. He hesitated for a half second, briefly thrown by her question. “It’s a long flight, but—”
—if Eragon and I leave forthwith— said Saphira.
“—we can travel there and back—”
—before the Varden arrive at Urû’baen. This—
“—is our only chance to go.”
We’ll not have the time—
“—to make the trip later on.”
Where would you be flying to, though? asked Glaedr.
“What … what do you mean?”
Exactly what I said, the dragon growled, the field of his mind darkening. For all your yammering, you’ve yet to tell us where this mysterious … thing is located.
“I have, though!” said Eragon, bewildered. “It’s on Vroengard Island!”
QUESTIONS UNANSWERED
ragon searched through Domia abr Wyrda until he found the reference to Kuthian in the twelfth chapter. To his disappointment, all it said was that Kuthian had been one of the first Riders to explore Vroengard Island.
Afterward, he closed the book and sat staring at it, thumbing a ridge embossed across the spine. On the cot, Solembum was silent as well.
“Do you think that the Vault of Souls contains spirits?” asked Eragon.
Spirits are not the souls of the dead.
“No, but what else could they be?”
Solembum rose from where he had been sitting and stretched, a wave of motion moving through his body from his head to his tail. If you find out, I would be interested to hear what you discover.
“Do you think Saphira and I should go, then?”
I cannot tell you what you should do. If this is a trap, then most of my race has been broken and enslaved without them realizing it, and the Varden might as well surrender now, because they will never outwit Galbatorix. If not, then this may be an opportunity to find assistance where we thought none was to be had. I cannot say. You have to decide on your own whether it is a chance worth taking. As for me, I have had enough of this mystery.
He jumped down from the cot and walked over to the opening of the tent, where he paused and glanced back at Eragon. There are many strange forces at work in Alagaësia, Shadeslayer. I have seen things that defy belief: whirlwinds of light spinning in caverns deep below the ground, men who age backward, stones that speak, and shadows that creep. Rooms that are bigger on the inside than the outside.… Galbatorix is not the only power in the world to be reckoned with, and he may not even be the strongest. Choose carefully, Shadeslayer, and if you choose to go, walk softly.
And then the werecat slipped out of the tent and vanished into the darkness.
Eragon released his breath and leaned back. He knew what he had to do; he had to go to Vroengard. But he could not make that decision without consulting Saphira.
With a gentle nudge of his mind, he woke her, and once he had assured her that nothing was amiss, he shared his memories of Solembum’s visit. Her astonishment was as great as his.
When he finished, she said, I do not like the thought of playing the puppet to whoever has enchanted the werecats.
Neither do I, but what other choice do we have? If Galbatorix is behind this, then we’ll be placing ourselves in his hands. But if we stay, then we’ll be doing exactly the same, only when we arrive at Urû’baen.
The difference is, we would have the Varden and the elves with us.
That’s true.
Silence fell between them for a time. Then Saphira said, I agree. I agree; we should go. We need longer claws and sharper teeth if we are to best Galbatorix and Shruikan in addition to Murtagh and Thorn. Besides, Galbatorix expects us to rush straight to Urû’baen in hope of rescuing Nasuada. And if there is one thing that makes my scales itch, it is doing what our enemies expect.
Eragon nodded. And if this is a trap?
A soft growl sounded outside the tent. Then we will teach whoever set it to fear our names, even if it is Galbatorix.
He smiled. For the first time since Nasuada’s abduction, he felt a sense of purposeful direction. Here was something they could do—a means by which they could influence the unfolding of events, instead of just sitting by as passive observers. “Right, then,” he muttered.
Arya arrived at his tent mere seconds after he contacted her. Her speed puzzled him until she explained that she had been keeping watch with Blödhgarm and the other elves, lest Murtagh and Thorn return.
With her there, Eragon reached out with his mind to Glaedr and coaxed him into joining their conversation, though the surly dragon was in no mood to talk.
Once the four of them, including Saphira, were all joined by their thoughts, Eragon finally burst out, I know where the Rock of Kuthian is!
What rock is this? Glaedr rumbled, his tone sour.
The name seems familiar, said Arya, but I cannot place it.
Eragon frowned slightly. Both of them had heard him speak of Solembum’s advice before. It was not like either of them to forget.
Nevertheless, Eragon repeated the story of his encounter with Solembum in Teirm, and then he told them about the werecat’s most recent revelations and read them the pertinent section from the book Domia abr Wyrda.
Arya tucked a strand of hair behind one of her pointed ears. Speaking both with her mind and her voice, she said, “And what is the name of this place again?”
“… Moraeta’s Spire, or the Rock of Kuthian,” replied Eragon in the same manner. He hesitated for a half second, briefly thrown by her question. “It’s a long flight, but—”
—if Eragon and I leave forthwith— said Saphira.
“—we can travel there and back—”
—before the Varden arrive at Urû’baen. This—
“—is our only chance to go.”
We’ll not have the time—
“—to make the trip later on.”
Where would you be flying to, though? asked Glaedr.
“What … what do you mean?”
Exactly what I said, the dragon growled, the field of his mind darkening. For all your yammering, you’ve yet to tell us where this mysterious … thing is located.
“I have, though!” said Eragon, bewildered. “It’s on Vroengard Island!”
