Chapter Ten

Endless Dark

Sif and Saphira stood side-by-side in the clearing in front of the mountain, neither one speaking. Murtagh and Nasuada were also there, with their dragons, and the six of them stood grouped together, staring at the mortal remains of King Ravana, Lord of Alagaësia.

The massive black dragon lay on his side, one wing crumpled beneath him and the other draped over his flank. His legs were splayed, as if he had tried to run in his last moments, and his jaws were open in a tired snarl.

'He was dead when we got here,' Nasuada said quietly. 'Thorn saw him first.'

'I've already written to Carnoc and Jarsha,' said Murtagh. 'Carnoc's had contact from Skirnir and Lifrasir; I've told him to alert the other royal dragons and tell them to come here at once. They'll want to know about this.'

Sif timidly tried to find the King's mind with her own, but there was nothing there. His body was empty, his mind vacant. 'I don't understand,' she said in a small voice. 'I saw him this morning. He was fine. How could this have happened?'

'He was very old, Sif,' said Murtagh. 'Older than the riders themselves. No-one can live forever.'

'What are we going to do?' said Nasuada.

Murtagh started to pace up and down beside the corpse. 'The first thing we have to do… the first thing is decide what to do with the body. Obviously we can't bury it… it's too big to burn, even if all the dragons tried at once…'

'But we can't just leave him lying here,' said Nasuada. 'If someone sees him…'

'Yes. We have to move him into the cave,' said Murtagh. 'And maybe… well, we could fill in the entrance. Turn it into a tomb for him.'

'That would be a good idea,' said Nasuada. 'After all-,'

'It would be an excellent idea,' Thorn interrupted. 'A dragon should be allowed to rest in a wild place. Natural. The kind of place where he lived. But a King deserves a tomb.'

'Exactly,' said Silarae. 'But we can't do it now. We have to wait until his family gets here. They will want to see him.'

Nasuada nodded. 'Yes. Of course. Even if dragons don't have burial ceremonies, they should all be here to see the tomb sealed. And after that…' she took a deep breath. 'After that… we can start deciding what to do next.'

Sif was still looking at the body. 'How do you think he died?'

Murtagh shook his head. 'My guess would be that his heart just gave out.'

'I doubt it,' said Nasuada. 'I've been reading the works of Vander Zynthad – you know, the old rider who used to rule Feinster. He says that happens with humans, but not dragons. Something to do with how their systems work… I can't remember exactly what it said.'

Thorn had been listening. Now the red dragon moved a little closer to the body, examining it closely. They had all been keeping a respectful distance from it up until now, but Thorn brought his snout close to the King's, scenting at it. He snorted and backed away.

'What is it, Thorn?' said Murtagh.

Thorn sat back on his haunches, his tail twitching. 'I don't like this. It smells wrong.'

'What does?'

'Look at the King's mouth,' said Thorn. 'Can you see it?'

Sif ventured closer, and quickly saw what he was talking about. Red foam was clinging to Ravana's teeth and gums and had dripped onto the ground beneath his head.

'What does it mean, though?' she asked.

Saphira, who had arched her neck over to look, sniffed cautiously at the muck and then jerked away, shuddering. 'Oh!'

'What is it?' said Sif.

Silarae too had come to scent it, and she too reacted with disgust and alarm. Thorn cast significant glances at his fellow dragons while the three humans looked on, confused.

Finally, Thorn nodded his agreement to something that had passed between himself and his friends.

Murtagh touched his partner's leg. 'Thorn? What can you smell?'

The red dragon looked down at him. 'There is something wrong,' he said, projecting the words to everyone there. 'A smell around his mouth. It's not natural.'

'Yes, but what kind of scent?' said Murtagh.

Thorn raised his wings briefly. 'An unpleasant one. Murtagh… we think… this is far too sudden. Over a thousand years old and never sick a day in his life, yet he dies like this? No warnings? No weakening? No illness? No… I don't accept this. Not at all.'

'What do you think, then?' said Murtagh. 'You think this wasn't an accident?'

Thorn turned abruptly to look at Sif. 'This friend of yours. The weredragon. Do you know where he is?'

'No,' said Sif.

'Did you see him go into the King's cave?'

'Yes, and I saw him come out.'

The red dragon made a sudden movement toward her, making her jerk backward a little in fright. 'Did he take anything in with him?' he asked urgently. 'Some kind of food?'

'Yes, but it was just a dead deer.'

'That was all? There was nothing in it or on it that looked suspicious?'

Sif hesitated.

'Well?'

'No-,'

'Yes,' Saphira interrupted. 'Yes, there was. He rubbed some herbs into it. He said it was for the flavour, to make it taste better.'

Thorn had started to growl. 'I think we should find this Skandar and ask him some questions.'

'He didn't poison the King!' Sif exclaimed. 'He wouldn't!'

'We'll leave it to him to prove that,' said Thorn, turning away.

Murtagh and Nasuada were both looking grim.

'Thorn's right,' said Nasuada. 'We have to find him, and bring him back to the castle for questioning.'

'He didn't do it!' said Sif. 'He hasn't done anything wrong!'

'That's enough, Sif.'

'Why did you do that?' Sif demanded privately, to Saphira.

'Why should we protect him?' said the blue dragon. 'We don't know him, Sif.'

'Well I do,' Sif said stubbornly. 'He's not a killer.'

Nasuada had been watching. 'Look,' she said more gently. 'If your friend hasn't done anything then he's got nothing to fear. We're not going to accuse him of anything. All we want to do is ask some questions and learn more about him. And anyway, as an ambassador he deserves our hospitality.'

Sif nodded, though she didn't feel particularly comforted. 'I'll help you find him,' she said. 'And he can tell you he didn't do it himself. You'll like him, Mother. You really will.'

Murtagh and Nasuada worked together to cast a preservation spell over Ravana's body, and after that the three dragons all tried to move it into the cave. But they did not have the strength, even collectively, to move it even a short distance. After they had conceded defeat, it was decided that one dragon would be stationed on top of the mountain as a lookout. He or she would guard the King's body and make sure that no-one ventured near the forest. Silarae offered to be first. In the meantime, the others went in search of Skandar.

Sif, Murtagh and Nasuada spread out through the forest, looking for any sign of his presence while Saphira and Thorn flew overhead, scanning the ground with the expertise of born hunters. The forest was very large; it covered an area that had once hosted a dozen farms, and the creation of the mountain had left lines of rocky outcrops that spread out from its roots and were home to countless hiding places. Sif made as thorough a search of these as she could, but found nothing.

In the end, nightfall forced Nasuada to call a halt; sending a mental signal to Silarae, who immediately alerted her fellow dragons. The search party met up at the edge of the forest and shared their news. None of them had found any trace of Skandar.

'But we'll try again tomorrow,' Nasuada concluded.

They did not find him the next day, or the day after that either. The closest they came was when Murtagh, following the stream, found a damp patch on the bank where there were a few footprints and a scatter of black bristles.

'Looks like he was here,' he said, once the others had come to see for themselves. 'Not too long ago.' He picked up a couple of the hairs and examined them. 'Looks like he had a shave.'

It looked like a positive lead, and they followed the stream for some distance in the hopes of finding more, but the trail went cold almost immediately. The only other thing they found was a row of scratch-marks on a tree, at about head-height. When Sif touched them, she found they matched her fingers. 'He did this,' she said confidently. 'With his claws.'

Murtagh touched the marks. 'I really hope I can meet this Skandar myself. He sounds fascinating.'

'He is,' said Sif. 'And he's sweet, too.' She smiled. 'He's so fierce, but he's like a child. And he's so honest, too. I don't think he's ever told a lie in his whole life, or even knows how to.'

Murtagh frowned. 'Yes. And yet… I don't know…'

'What?'

'It's just that… it's his name. Skandar. Skandar… I keep having an odd feeling when I hear it. Like I've heard it somewhere before. I…' Murtagh broke off. 'No. Never mind, I'm sure it's nothing. Let's get a move on. If he's in the area, we might catch him.'

But that was all they found that day, and they found nothing at all the day after that. It took four days to search every inch of the forest, and by the end of it they were all tired and frustrated, and Sif was upset.

'There's only one thing I can be certain of,' Murtagh said that evening. 'Either he's left the forest, or he's deliberately avoiding us.'

'But why would he do something like that?' said Nasuada.

'Why, indeed,' Murtagh said darkly.

'I'm sure he doesn't mean any harm,' said Sif. 'He said he wanted to meet you, but he was nervous about it too. I don't think he trusts you completely.'

'Why?'

'Well…' Sif stared at the tabletop in front of her. 'Riders wiped out his race. It's our fault he's the last one left. He said he didn't blame me, but maybe he's afraid that you might be like the riders who killed his people.'

Nasuada sighed. 'Yes… I can understand that. I hope that he does come out of hiding soon. When I meet him, I should… we should all apologise to him. On behalf of our predecessors. In the meantime…'

In the meantime, there were more important things to see to. Carnoc arrived the next morning, and Jarsha the day after that. Close on their heels came others. Not riders. They were dragons; wild dragons. But not just any dragons.

There were too many of them to land on the dragon roost, and many of them were too large for it anyway. They landed instead on the land at the edge of the King's forest, one by one, greeting their bonded cousins with growls and nuzzling. Sif knew them all by name. There was Lifrasir, a massive dark-blue female. Skirnir, her silver-scaled brother, and Katana and Balisong, both black females. They were the elders. The others were much younger. One-eyed Valdyr and red-winged Dreyri – two of the surviving offspring of Skirnir and Eragon's dragon, the older Saphira. All of them were direct descendants of Ravana, and most bore his black scales.

Nasuada broke the news to them, and the six dragons bowed their heads in silence.

'Skömm is dead too,' Skirnir said at last. 'Killed in a mating fight last winter.'

'What about Kullervo?' said Nasuada.

The silver dragon shook his head. 'There's been no word of him since he disappeared. I think he's probably dead too. It wouldn't surprise me to learn that he killed himself.'

There was grim silence from everyone there. Kullervo, the only surviving son of Ravana and one-time leader of the wild dragons, had been trapped in the form of a human by the Shades who had ruled Alagaësia for ten years during Galbatorix's absence. Since then he had not been seen or heard from.

'I want to see the body,' Lifrasir interrupted.

'Of course,' said Nasuada. 'We preserved it with magic so you could see it.'

Sif rode on Saphira's back to the mountain, and the two of them stood by while the dragons grouped respectfully around the mortal remains of the dragon who had been patriarch of their clan. None of them moved much, and all remained fairly expressionless as dragons generally did. Still, Sif knew that didn't mean they felt nothing. Most of the time dragons kept their emotions on the inside.

Skirnir nosed gently at his grandfather's cold snout. Beside him, Lifrasir pressed herself against her brother and sighed; the only sign she gave.

Finally, Skirnir turned to look at the five riders. 'How did he die?'

The riders exchanged glances.

'I think he was poisoned,' said Thorn. 'The others agree with me.'

The dragons started, several of them growling.

'What?' said Lifrasir. 'By who?'

'We don't know. Scent his jaws; tell me what you can detect.'

The blue dragon obeyed. 'I can't smell anything.'

'It must have faded by now,' said Thorn. 'But I can assure you that it was there before. Silarae and Saphira picked it up as well.'

'What kind of scent was it?'

'Unpleasant. Not one I recognised, but it smelt sharp… acidic. Like some kind of herb. And there was foam around his jaws. It had blood in it.'

Skirnir growled. 'But who could have done it? He wouldn't have allowed anyone except you and your friends into his cave, and even if he did he wouldn't eat anything given to him by a stranger.'

'We don't know,' said Thorn. 'But there was someone who visited him on the morning he died. A weredragon.'

'A weredragon? What in the gods' names is that?'

Thorn shrugged his wings. 'An elf who can change into a dragon at will. Saphira brought him here, but he disappeared. She and Sif were the only ones who saw him.'

Skirnir's eyes narrowed. 'An elf… elves have always been enemies to the Night Dragon. Do you know where he is?'

'No. We believed he was somewhere in the forest, but we could not find him. We searched for days.'

'We will help you search again,' said Skirnir, glancing at his fellows. 'If he is responsible, we will make him suffer for it.'

'I am sure we will find him,' said Thorn. 'But for now…'

'Yes,' said Skirnir. 'For now, there are other things to do.'

Nasuada came forward. 'Murtagh and I have talked it over,' she said. 'We decided-,'

Everyone there tensed.

'-We have decided that we – all of us here – should hold a council,' said Nasuada, choosing her words carefully. 'We shall decide what must be done collectively.'

Skirnir appeared to relax. 'Yes. It is our duty to make sure that King Ravana's legacy is the best one for the country.'

'We thought the meeting should take place as soon as possible,' Murtagh added. 'After we have all had time to think things over. But our first course of action must be to pay our respects to the King.'

'Agreed,' said Skirnir.

'We had thought that we could move his body back into the cave,' said Nasuada. 'And then cover over the entrance. It would be a good tomb for him.'

There was silence while the dragons thought it over.

'I think that would be good,' said Lifrasir. 'The dragon's way would be to leave him where he was so that the earth could take him back, but…'

'He was a King,' said Thorn. 'And a King should have a tomb.'

'I agree.'

'Shall we do it now, then?' said Thorn. 'All of us together should be enough.'

Skirnir and Lifrasir gave their assent, and the humans stood back while the dragons braced themselves against Ravana's back and, in a concerted effort, laboriously pushed him into the cave. He went slowly, head and limbs dragging limply, and once he was in Skirnir and Lifrasir turned him onto his belly, carefully arranging his wings and legs so that he looked natural, as if he were sleeping.

Once it was done they returned to the space outside the entrance, where the others were standing together in a loose group with the humans at the front. There was an air of awkwardness around them all, and no-one seemed to know what to say.

'Shouldn't we bring some flowers?' Sif ventured.

'Not for a dragon,' said Skirnir. He kept his gaze on the cave entrance. Ravana's snout protruded into the open air, his head and horns a silhouette in the gloom beyond. He sighed. 'Dragons have no rituals,' he said, addressing everyone, 'No ceremonies or special words for the dead. All we can do for him now is seal the cave.'

'Then do what seems right,' said Nasuada. 'It isn't for us to interfere.'

Nothing more was said. The dragons climbed to the top of the mountain, just over the cave entrance, and, working together, they tore out great chunks of stone and sent them tumbling down the slope. Others stayed below and helped to push them into place in the cave entrance, and together they covered it up, piling broken stone as high as they could, until much of the mountaintop had been demolished and the entrance had vanished behind a massive heap of rubble.

When it was done, the dragons on the ground flew up to the mountaintop and perched there, arranging themselves into a circle as if on some unspoken agreement. Then Skirnir lifted his head to the sky, and roared. Lifrasir did likewise, and her sisters, and in moments every dragon had raised his or her snout and was bellowing. On the ground, Sif resisted the urge to cover her ears, feeling that it would be disrespectful. But she did wince at the noise. It was so loud…

But not discordant, she realised. Their voices were far from sounding human, or musical, but there was a kind of harmony in them. And, as she stood and listened more closely, she saw what it was that they were doing.

'They're calling,' she whispered to herself.

It went on for a long time. When it was done, Saphira came back down to join her rider.

'Come on,' she said calmly. 'We're going back to the castle now.'

Sif didn't argue. She and her fellow riders mounted up and flew back to Ilirea, leaving Skirnir and his siblings and offspring behind. When they had landed on the roost, Sif looked enquiringly at her mother, who didn't seem inclined to tell her what was going on as she loosened the straps holding Silarae's saddle on.

Jarsha and Carnoc removed the tack from their own partners and retreated into the castle without a word. Murtagh too was silent. Finally, Sif appealed to Saphira.

'What's going on?'

The blue dragon stirred. 'Skirnir and Lifrasir both requested two days to talk things over before the meeting. Murtagh and your mother agreed.'

Sif had finished removing her saddle, and started to roll it up. 'Oh. I see.'

Nasuada was waiting for her. 'Come on,' she said. 'We're going to go and have some lunch now.'

Sif sighed and followed her.

Lunch was a subdued affair. The five riders sat in the dining hall and ate a simple meal of bread and cheese. Sif didn't feel particularly hungry. She couldn't stop thinking about Skandar, and worrying about him. She kept thinking of the last time she had seen him; how he had limped on his newly-healed leg, wincing every time it touched the ground. And of his anger. He had been upset about something, but what? What had he said or done to make Ravana attack him? Had he…?

Sif's stomach churned. Had he really poisoned the King?

She tore a chunk of bread in half, almost angry with herself for thinking it. No. She made herself think of Skandar's light, cheerful voice and bright eyes. He wouldn't do something like that. She knew he wouldn't. He was her Skandar, not a killer, and she wished he was there. She had only been apart from him for a day or so, but she already missed him.

As she chewed listlessly, she slowly became aware that Murtagh was speaking. She swallowed and looked up.

'…will have to be very careful about suggesting it,' her stepfather was saying. 'We don't know what they want.'

'Well they won't want that,' Nasuada interrupted. 'I promise you.'

'Then why suggest it at all?' said Carnoc. 'If they're certain to disagree, I don't see why it would be worth it.'

'We have to,' Nasuada snapped. 'We aren't their servants, even if they are the King's blood. We're riders. We represent the union between human and dragon, not them. We are the heirs to Vrael. What do the Shur'tugal exist for except to rule? And besides, why should they even care? Humans should be ruled by other humans.'

'And what about the dragons?' said Carnoc.

'What about them?'

'Humans will accept being ruled by us, there's no question of that, but what about the dragons? If they don't accept it…'

'Wild dragons have never taken much interest in human affairs,' said Murtagh. 'Even during the Fall they did virtually nothing to intervene. They refused to take either side and then went into hiding rather than risk being destroyed.'

'That was more than a century ago,' said Nasuada. 'Things have changed. They looked on Ravana as their leader. His death means that both humans and dragons are leaderless, and what will the dragons do now?'

'Well, they'll accept anyone who can fight his way to the top,' said Murtagh. 'That's how they've always chosen their leaders. And they won't accept a human leader. Besides, what human could fight his way to supremacy over the dragons? It would be suicide.'

Nasuada traced circles on the tabletop with her finger. 'Yes… and if we make the King's family angry with us, we risk breaking the peace between dragon and human.'

'Not necessarily,' said Murtagh. 'Remember, dragons don't care about bloodlines or hierarchies. Being related to the King didn't save Skömm, did it? Skirnir's family were only powerful because of the King. Without him, they have no status. They're in as much jeopardy as we are. Most likely more.'

Nasuada brightened up. 'Well, that could be a good thing from our point of view. If… well, look, it's in our interest to be strongly allied with them, and it's in theirs to be strongly allied with us. So I'm sure they'll be open to… reasonable discussion.'

'But they won't like this idea,' said Carnoc. 'If you suggest it to them, they'll see it as a grab for power on our part.'

'Oh?' said Nasuada, suddenly angry. 'And what they're no doubt planning to propose won't be?'

'I'm not saying that,' Carnoc said carefully. 'All I'm saying is that we should be… careful.'

'And we will,' said Nasuada. 'I intend to be very careful indeed.'

'The dragons will want another King, though,' said Jarsha. 'Most likely one of them.'

'But I doubt it could work,' said Murtagh. 'Ravana's power was directly handed to him by his predecessor, in the sight of both humans and dragons. And he was not an ordinary dragon. For something like that to happen again would take circumstances that are unlikely to arise again.' He glanced at Nasuada. 'You're really sure he never named an heir?'

She nodded. 'He never mentioned it to me, and I never would have had the courage to ask. You know he didn't like to be questioned.'

'Of course.' Murtagh looked at the others. 'Did he ever hint anything to any of you?'

They shook their heads.

'I think he probably would have chosen Lord Kullervo,' Jarsha volunteered. 'After all… he was his son.'

Murtagh sighed. 'Yes, if Lord Kullervo were still alive he would be the most logical choice. But six years is a long time, and now he's been declared dead… well, somehow I doubt he's likely to come back very soon. And even if he does, if he's still trapped in human form… no, we can't rely on that.'

'Of course not,' said Nasuada. 'As it is… I suggest we use our time before the meeting to talk things over and come up with the best approach to take.'

'Mother, be careful,' Sif said suddenly.

Nasuada looked up. 'I will, Sif.'

Sif didn't quite know what had made her speak, but now she leaned toward her mother, suddenly full of urgency. 'Please do,' she said. 'Don't do anything to make them angry. I don't want us to end up in a war.'

Nasuada patted her hand. 'Don't worry, Sif. It's not going to come to that, I promise. We've seen enough of war, and we're not looking for more.'

Sif sat back, feeling a strange sick churning in her stomach. 'You shouldn't ask what you're going to ask,' she said. 'If you tell them you think the riders should rule without a King leading them, they'll be angry. Can't you just do what they want?'

'Because we have our pride, Sif,' said Nasuada. 'We aren't their servants.' She stared at Murtagh. 'And Alagaësia has had enough of Kings.'