Chapter 1
Eragon pulled aside the flap of the tent and ducked through. He winced a little at the pain it took just to hunch over like that. The battle, just six days before, had left him very sore despite the strength in his toned muscles.
Inside, a group had already gathered around Nasuada's table. Arya stood proud and upright, as always, with a weary looking Nasuada bent down over a stack of papers next to her. Orrin, the king of Surda, was also present, along with Orik the dwarf. Both wore grim faces to match the occasion. This was an important meeting.
Nasuada looked up from her papers and nodded to Eragon, saying, "Let us begin."
He stood at the table between Orrin and Arya, strictly averting his eyes from the elf maiden and instead directing his attention fully to Nasuada.
"Our victory has come at a cost," she began. "We need to recover and allow healing time for our people—and, above all, we need to gather more men. Plenty across the Empire would join us if given the chance, but we have hidden ourselves so well in past years that they have not been given that chance. I plan to change that. Already, I have people spreading the word of our victory and word of our most powerful ally," she nodded to Eragon. "More will come to our aid."
Eragon reached out and allowed the link between his and Saphira's minds to grow wider so she could listen in on the meeting. She continued helping the group of men bury dead soldiers in the battlefield, but paid attention eagerly to what Eragon was hearing.
"But," Nasuada continued, "we need more than rumors of a new dragon rider. If they see this Rider for themselves, hope will spread faster than we imagine. Does everyone agree that Eragon should show himself in a few remote villages for the purpose of showing our power—or creating the illusion that we have power?"
Everyone understood her reasoning and agreed.
Then Arya spoke, causing Eragon to catch his breath. "If you desire reinforcements, Islanzadi's elven warriors will be arriving soon. She has contacted me recently, reporting their progress. You will have the support of the elves."
Nasuada bowed her head in thanks. "That support will not go unappreciated."
"But what now?" Orik asked gruffly, staring across at Nasuada. He could only see above the table because of the wooden box conveniently placed beneath his feet. "We cannot stay on the damned plain forever. There's no food and it's hardly a pleasant atmosphere."
"You make a good point," she said, "there is no reason to stay here. We need to retreat into Surda. That, of course, depends wholly on Orrin's approval."
Orrin nodded in a way that almost looked indifferent to Eragon.
"Good," Nasuada said. "Then, once the dead are properly buried, which I'm told will happen before dawn tomorrow, we will begin our journey. Are there any other subjects you would like to bring up?" She addressed the whole group.
Eragon spoke up a little sheepishly. "I have something." He had felt foolish after making a promise to his cousin, Roran, and understood how selfish it was, but he wanted to keep it. "I ask for permission to travel Northward to Helgrind with my cousin Roran and retrieve a prisoner from the Ra'zac."
Nasuada's head cocked aside a little and she scowled. Even Arya seemed taken aback at his proposal. "I deny you the permission," Nasuada said simply, moving on to other matters. "Does anyone else have something to say?"
He bit his tongue to keep from asking why she had not allowed it. Saphira, sensing his disappointment, said, Don't seem so surprised. Nasuada is the leader of the Varden and she can't afford to put you in unnecessary danger.
Still, I promised, he said. What will Roran say? He's been pestering me for the last six days about rescuing Katrina. He will be devastated!
He will understand. And if he doesn't, he is a fool. Eragon could feel Saphira snort a blue flame, almost scorching one of the soldiers on duty. Oops… sorry.
Eragon returned his attention to the meeting at hand. Orik was speaking.
"A group of our soldiers have left to properly bury our king and the other fallen dwarves. Soon, I will follow them, along with the remainder of our kind, to witness the crowning of another dwarf king. Depending upon who gets crowned, you could receive either reinforcements or a cold shoulder from us dwarves—I don't mean that disrespectfully, Lady Nasuada, I am jus' telling you." He shrugged, face grim.
"I understand, Orik, and I thank you for your honesty in this matter." Nasuada then turned the conversation to their return into Surda and they decided on an exact route back. She called in a general to have him issue the orders. In the morning, they would begin. Soon after, Trianna the sorceress was brought to discuss finances, and Eragon was dismissed. He had no advice to give in that matter.
Outside the tent, he was approached—more like ambushed—by Roran.
"When are we leaving?" he asked eagerly.
Eragon sighed, looking down a little. "We aren't leaving, brother." Seeing his cousin's disappointed face, he added, "I tried to convince her… but it just doesn't help the Varden for me to rescue Katrina right now. She can't allow me to leave like that just when I'm needed. You must understand…"
Roran's face grew red with frustration, but he nodded. His face was expressionless. "I understand. You have greater obligations than family now."
Eragon watched his cousin leave with a heavy heart. Saphira comforted him with soothing words, but that didn't lift the shadow of guilt that engulfed him. He began to walk between the tents, making way towards his dragon so they could speak in person.
As he rounded a corner, the short figure of Angela the herbalist appeared next to him. "Having a nice time?" She asked. He couldn't be sure, but her voice sounded a little sarcastic.
"Well… I suppose," he lied.
"HOW CAN YOU BE HAVING A NICE TIME WHEN THAT POOR LITTLE GIRL IS IN AGONY OVER YOUR STUPID MISTAKE?" Angela's voice rang out like an alarm in the quiet evening. Mingling soldiers stopped to stare. "YOU PROMISED TO REMOVE THE CURSE AND LET HER GO FREE—BUT no. YOU STROLL ABOUT LIKE IT'S JUST ANOTHER DAY. YOU…" She shouted a few choice words describing Eragon before he could interrupt her.
"Angela!" He exclaimed, "Please…"
"PLEASE WHAT?" she asked, still shouting.
"Please lower your voice. I'll take the curse away—right now if you'll be silent!" He was already guilty for breaking a promise to Roran and couldn't afford to keep another one waiting. Enough time had passed after the battle, so he had enough energy to fulfill that promise.
The eccentric herbalist's face became suddenly pleasant. "Good. Follow me, she's right over here."
He followed her into a large tent decorated with wildflowers. Where the flowers had come from in the harsh plains he didn't know, but they created a lovely scent. Inside, herbs dangled from the ceiling. It made the room look more like a jungle than a tent. Miscellaneous plants were laying about everywhere: on the table and three chairs, over the two cots, and even in the toilet bucket in the back corner. But Eragon's attention was soon diverted from the greenery, for he spotted Elva.
She sat in the center of the room. Her legs were bent and she had her thin arms wrapped tightly around her knees, swaying back and forth in a steady rhythm.
"What is she doing?" Eragon asked Angela in a whisper.
But it wasn't Angela who responded. The young girl stopped swaying and looked up at Eragon, the pale oval on her forehead shining slightly. She laughed an eerie laugh that sounded like a full-grown woman's. "What am I doing? I'm suffering the pains of your… 'blessing.'"
Her words stung him. "You will not suffer much longer. I am here to remove it."
Again, she laughed, causing Eragon to shiver. "It is not that simple. See, I would love to be removed of this burden, but my desires are not relevant. Even now, I sense what you want and I am impelled to give it to you. I cannot allow you to take away this curse because foremost in your mind is destroying the Empire, and my curse can help you with that. Without it, there is no guarantee that I will help you, and therefore, the curse is protecting itself. Willingly, I cannot let you remove it."
He hesitated.
"What are you waiting for, you fool?" Angela said. "She cannot willingly allow you to remove it."
"Willingly…?" Eragon caught her hint. A twinkle in Elva's eyes confirmed his theory and he spoke a sentence in the ancient language, binding her. He then thought for a moment, choosing the appropriate words to remove his blessing.
But, right then, something unexpected happened. The spell he had put on Elva failed and she ran out of the tent, calling behind, "You'll have to try harder than that!"
Startled by the girl's behavior, he followed into the open and cast another binding spell on the girl, this time choosing a more specific one that kept her entire body still. She stopped, and he walked up to her. The silver oval on her forehead burned white and she broke free of the spell once again.
"I have more power than you realize," she said, jumping up. "Every waking moment I am controlled by this spell."
Eragon realized the only way to keep her still. "Slytha!" he said, reaching for magic. The girl's eyes drooped, and he caught her before she hit the ground.
Angela gave him a "get on with it" look, and he bent over the child in his arms. What would she do if the curse was gone? Surely his blessing-gone-wrong had driven her mad. Having seen what she could do, breaking away from his binding spells without uttering a word, Eragon knew she could be dangerous if released. What, then, should I do? He thought.
I know what you're thinking, little one, and we have to release the spell. It is worth the risk just to give her a chance for freedom. Saphira's voice echoed in his head.
Without further hesitation, Eragon put a hand to Elva's forehead and began speaking in the ancient language, pronouncing every word slowly and correctly, as not to mess it up this time.
For many minutes, he continued speaking in a dazed state. A crowd of onlookers gathered in the path, watching with apprehension. Finally, the last word was spoken, and he looked down.
Elva's eyelids flew open, revealing deep green eyes that sparkled. A low laugh escaped her throat and she stood, breaking away from his grasp. "I feel… whole!" She looked at the sky and an expression of pure ecstasy crossed her face. "No longer is my mind divided between my desires and that of others. Finally, I am thinking my own thoughts without interruption. Without your curse, I can sense Saphira's blessing coming to its full potential." The oval on her forehead began shining once more.
Eragon felt a chill creep up his spine, though he didn't know why. Angela glanced at him and then back at Elva, lines of uncertainty etched in her brow.
Elva turned back to Eragon, narrowing her eyes. "I can still sense your desires without effort, Eragon Shadeslayer." His name rolled off her tongue like it was a revolting word. "You want so badly to have peace—ha! You know nothing of peace until you have suffered the pains of a divided mind as I have. But I am whole again, and I will no longer serve the desires of others. You desire not only for peace, but for a maiden." She threw back her head and howled in laughter.
Arya, thought Eragon, suddenly feeling vulnerable.
Onlookers stepped back nervously, whispering amongst themselves. Elva moved in close so only Eragon could hear her. "She doesn't feel for you, Shadeslayer. Get used to it."
He turned bright red despite himself, drawing a broad grin from Elva.
"Ah, you now wonder if it was appropriate to remove this little curse from me," she said, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear.
"I am beginning to think I will regret it, yes," Eragon admitted, fidgeting.
"Your beloved Shadeslayer admits he might have made a mistake—now that's a moment for the history books!" Elva cackled. "Now here's another moment for the records. Listen well people of the Varden, because you will tell your grandchildren this story: I, Elva, hereby declare that the remainder of my life be spent without the sickening sensation that comes from pleasing people. I will no longer be a shield from misfortune, but a carrier of it. With the gods as my witness, I have done enough shielding for one lifetime."
Eragon had heard enough. The mad gleam in her eyes thoroughly convinced him that the child was mad, and she needed to be contained. He reached for his magic and opened his mouth to speak in the ancient language.
Elva suddenly whipped her head around, and her forehead shone brighter than ever before. At the same time, Eragon found he could not move any part of his body.
"You will not contain me. I will not allow it." She cocked her head to one side and the spot gave one final flash.
That was the last thing Eragon saw before falling unconscious.
