Chapter Twenty-One

At the Gates

Some hours later, Galbatorix and Skade sat by a fire in their camp with Nasuada, Carnoc, Murtagh, Jarsha, and Sif, and talked. Katana, Lifrasir, Skirnir and Skömm were there too; Skömm crouched behind his surrogate parents with the hatchlings around him, and the other three sitting hunched on the mountainside behind the copse like huge guarding shadows.

Nasuada sat with Silarae in her lap, her hand on the small dragon's head. Once the initial bewilderment had died down, she had joyfully accepted the fact that she was now a rider and, though she still maintained a healthy suspicion, she was a little more friendly toward Galbatorix, who had, after all, been responsible for forging the bond. Her friends, particularly Murtagh, were at first shocked, then suspicious, but now they had accepted that it was real they were both awed and fiercely determined. Now they had a new rider on their side; one they felt they could trust. And they grudgingly admitted that they had Galbatorix to thank for it.

Only he and Skade appeared less than happy about what had happened. Skade was outright angry about it, and kept casting venomous glares at Nasuada. But she stayed protectively close to Galbatorix, and wouldn't let go of his hand.

As for Galbatorix, he appeared strangely subdued. He said very little and avoided looking at Nasuada. His expression was troubled and a little sad, and he seemed somehow… smaller than before. Somehow diminished. He took what appeared to be a white river stone from somewhere inside his robe, and turned it over in his hands while the others talked. When someone asked him what it was, he said; 'A rock,' and stowed it away in his pocket. As if this was some sort of cue, he finally looked up at this point and started to speak. 'All right,' he said. 'So you've got yourselves a new rider. Congratulations. Perhaps after all this is over I can teach you a few useful things, assuming you'd be prepared to listen, which I doubt. In any case, this doesn't solve our problem or put a stop to Durza. Now, here's my plan.' He paused to make sure he had their full attention. 'I won't be needing any help to fight Durza. Katana, Lifrasir or Skirnir can carry me to Urû'baen, and once I'm there I'll offer Durza the chance to fight me himself. He won't trust anyone else to do it, and when I tell him I killed Rangda, he'll want the opportunity to kill me personally. All I need is a chance to meet him face-to-face.'

'You're not going to do that,' said Nasuada. 'I'm coming with you.'

'No, Nasuada,' said Murtagh. 'You can't. What if it goes wrong? What if he betrays you? We can't lose you. Especially not now.'

Nasuada glanced at him, not without affection. 'I'm your leader, Murtagh; I make the decisions here. I'm going to go with him to see that he keeps his promise. And besides – if Eragon is set free, I must be there for him.'

'Then I'll come too,' said Murtagh.

'No,' said Nasuada. 'You'll stay here, Murtagh. If anything should happen to me, I want you to take command. And take care of Sif for me. And as for you…' she looked distastefully at Galbatorix. 'I'm not going anywhere until you tell me exactly how you plan to do this. How are you going to set Eragon free?'

'I'm going to trick him,' said Galbatorix. 'The spirits inside Eragon – Durza's essence – can come out if they choose to. And I know a way to make them do so.' He switched to the ancient language again, and went on, 'Eragon will be freed and Durza destroyed. I have the power to do this, and I will do it for you whatever the cost.'

'But why?' said Nasuada, once Murtagh had translated.

'The riders must come back,' said Galbatorix. 'I'm going to do this for them. To undo my crimes and give Alagaësia back what I took away from it. No matter what the cost.'

Silence followed his declaration.

'I believe you,' said Nasuada.

'So do I,' Jarsha added loyally.

'There you go then,' said Galbatorix, to Sif. 'The bad man is going to give you your father back.'

Sif glared at him. 'I don't like you.'

'Tough,' said Galbatorix, turning away. As he did so, his eye was caught by something.

It was one of the hatchlings, her scales glittering blue in the firelight. Her eyes, too, were blue, and her wings.

Everyone paused to watch the blue hatchling, and she seemed to know exactly where she was going.

'Oh no,' said Galbatorix.

But the blue hatchling ignored him. She was only looking at one person: Sif. And Sif looked back through her blue eyes. Blue. Completely different from the dark eyes of her father and mother. They were Brom's eyes. The eyes of her grandfather.

The girl smiled and reached out toward the hatchling. The little dragon sniffed her fingers, and then climbed into her lap and curled up there like a cat. Sif scratched her horns. 'You're so pretty!' she said.

A gasp came from the onlookers. Jarsha, Carnoc and even Skade scrambled away, wide-eyed with fright.

Pure white light flickered into life, all around Galbatorix, shimmering over his hair and clothes as if he were on fire. He looked at his hands and saw them glowing. 'Oh no,' he said again. 'Not again!'

But he had no choice. The power seized control of him. He stood up jerkily and limped toward Sif, his hands stretched out toward her.

'Don't touch her!' Nasuada yelled.

He barely heard her. He laid a hand on Sif's forehead, and the power spread into her. She cried out and shied away, and the light died away, but it was already over.

Galbatorix found he could control himself again. He stagged away from Sif, back toward Skade, before his lame leg collapsed and he fell. Skade pulled him up again, and he managed to raise himself into a kneeling position, his head resting against her stomach.

Nasuada was already by her daughter. 'Sif! Are you all right? What happened?'

Sif looked a little dazed. 'I feel strange,' she said.

'Show me your hand,' said Nasuada. Beside her, Silarae nosed at the blue hatchling, who chirped back at her.

Nasuada grabbed hold of Sif's hand. There, on the palm, was a gedwëy ignaesia.

'Oh my gods,' said Nasuada. 'Sif…' she looked at Galbatorix, almost accusingly.

Galbatorix looked up. His eyes had gone dull, but he saw the shining silver circle on Sif's palm. Sif, daughter of Eragon. Sif, the second of the new riders he must create.

Sif wasn't looking at him, however. All her attention had turned toward the blue hatchling. She looked at it with wonder and then loving delight, and ignoring her mother's entreaties she lifted it into her arms and hugged it tightly.

Galbatorix watched her for a moment, and then something happened that shocked everyone almost as much as what had gone before.

Galbatorix Taranisäii, former King of Alagaësia, Scourge of the Riders, the Great Betrayer, the most feared and hated man anywhere, began to cry.

His sobs were weak and thin, but his shoulders shook with them. He covered his face with his hands, trying to hide it, but they could all hear him. Skade took him into her arms and held him close, saying nothing, comforting him with her presence and touch.

The others looked on, and their embarrassment slowly turned to shame. Now that they saw him there, they began to realise the truth of just how much he had changed.

This was not King Galbatorix, tyrant and dreaded general, the shadowy figure they had feared for so much of their lives.

What they saw now was a lonely, wounded old man, one who was thin and scarred under his heavy robe, and who now sought comfort from the only one there who cared for him – Skade. He was not a warrior now, but a pathetic cripple, so broken and weakened he could barely stand upright, but he had fought Rangda and brought down Vervada at the risk of his own life, and faced their hostility without complaint, and he had given both Sif and Nasuada the greatest gift he could have – he had bonded them to their partners and begun to bring back the riders he had destroyed. And only now did he reveal his true vulnerability, which he had kept hidden for so long.

But still, none of them made any move to apologise or offer him their support.

Galbatorix fought to control himself. He was burning with humiliation which only increased his grief, and he hated it. How could he be so pathetic – crying in front of these people who already looked on him with contempt?

But he couldn't help it. His fear and his misery overrode all else, and he clung onto Skade as if he would never let go, still able to feel glad she was there. Even if he had lost all else, he still had her.

Something nudged his hand. He looked down, his face wet with tears, and saw Sif and the blue hatchling looking at him with concern. The hatchling nudged him again with her snout, and Sif said; 'Saphira asked what's wrong.'

Galbatorix blinked. 'Saphira?'

'That's her name,' said Sif. 'Are you all right? What's the matter? Why are you so sad?'

Galbatorix's sobs died away. He looked at Sif and Saphira. They were watching him, their expressions almost completely identical. At the sight of that, he suddenly broke into a broad grin. 'By the lost gods,' he said. 'I never thought I would see it again.'

'See what?' said Sif.

'What I'm seeing right now,' said Galbatorix. 'A rider and her dragon, newly-bonded. It's always so simple to begin with. Later on it becomes complicated. But it's all so wonderful at first. The riders are returning.'

'I'm a rider?' said Sif. 'No I'm not.'

'You'd better ask Saphira that,' said Galbatorix.

'Does this mark mean I'm a rider?' said Sif. She held out her palm.

'Yes, it does. That's a gedwëy ignaesia, child. Every rider has one. See?' Galbatorix showed her his own palm.

Sif touched the gedwëy ignaesia where it stood out among the scars, her small hand making his rough one look much bigger. Then she looked up at his bearded, tear-stained face. 'But if you're a rider, where's your dragon?' she asked innocently.

Galbatorix sighed a deep, shuddering sigh. 'She died,' he said. 'A long time ago.'

Sif put her hand on Saphira's head. 'What was she like?'

Galbatorix smiled again, with a terrible sadness. 'She was white. Pure white, like snow, but she had silver wings and silver eyes. When she breathed fire, it was white and silver. Beautiful. Like nothing I've ever seen. She was… always laughing and making jokes. She was like a big child, really. Always made me laugh and knew how to cheer me up when I needed it. And she laughed at me, too, sometimes. I remember the first time I rode her I was sick. I threw up everywhere, but she didn't laugh at me then. She helped me find a way to fly, she did…' his voice trailed off. 'Her name was Laela,' he finished simply. 'And I miss her all the time.'

'It was you, wasn't it?' said Sif. 'You made me a rider, just like you did for Mother.'

'I did,' said Galbatorix.

'Saphira says, why?'

'Because I have to, Sif… Argetlam.'

That night, Galbatorix dreamed. He slept in his hammock with Skade, the two of them holding each other close, and while a silvery moon rode over the clouds above, the past visited him in his sleep.

But it was a good dream. He dreamt that he was with Laela. He sat on her back as he had done long ago, when he was no more than a beardless boy, and the two of them flew over forests and mountains together, racing the clouds. The wind blew through his hair, and White Violence was strapped to his back, the diamond in its hilt sparkling like a star, clear as moonlight.

Where shall we go? Laela asked.

Wherever we want to, he answered. Forever.

And then there was fear, and darkness, and blood. They came for him, came out of a sky that rained red. Two dragons, two riders, armoured for battle, one red and one gold.

A storm gathered, and the rain and the lightning became arrows. White arrows, white wood fletched with swan feathers. Riders' arrows. They came for him, and for Laela who stood between him and them. The arrows hit him in the arm and chest, and they hit Laela. Her wing was torn to shreds, and she fell from the sky.

He knelt by her head as she lay dying in the snow, her silver eyes looking into his. No, Laela, no! he screamed. No!

I am sorry, she said. I have to go.

He held onto her, sharing her pain. I don't want you to die.

Riders fall and riders rise, times that go and come again. Strike them down and bring them back, half-breed. It is what you were born to do, and no other man may do it. Bring the riders back, Fárbjódr, bring them back destroyer. There is no choice and no turning from this path. Only when the King returns will you be set free.

And then he was fighting, fighting for his life, driven by madness and an agony that bit into his very soul. He fought until he could fight no more, beyond pain, beyond the edge of his strength and his sanity, screaming her name again and again.

And afterwards, when it was done and they were dead, he fell to his knees, the snow falling all about. So white and so pure, until he stained it with blood and turned it red. The white-bladed sword fell from his hands, and the diamond in the hilt had turned to black. It was all over, and he cried there amid the whiteness and the cold, all alone. Forever.

Laela…

And now it was morning. Katana had volunteered to carry her parents to Urû'baen, and was big enough to carry Nasuada as well.

The dark-skinned woman parted reluctantly with her daughter, and with Murtagh. Neither of them wanted her to go; both begged to be allowed to go with her, but she refused them.

She also refused to let Silarae come. The black hatchling was far too small to stand a chance in battle, and Nasuada wouldn't risk the prospect of losing her. Besides which, the fact that she was a rider had to remain secret.

To say that Silarae was unwilling to leave her rider would have been an understatement; in the end Sif and Murtagh had to physically restrain her. Saphira helped, and the little black dragon wailed her distress as Nasuada climbed onto Katana's back and settled down behind Galbatorix and Skade.

Katana looked at her brother and sister. 'Will you come with us?'

'Lifrasir and I will go and look for Lord Ravana,' said Skirnir. 'He must be told what is going on. Skömm, you'll come too. Three will have a better chance of finding him.'

'I agree,' said Katana.

'So do I,' said Galbatorix. He had made an effort to neaten himself up, and White Violence was in its accustomed place on his back. Skade carried Rǿđull-Viđr, and Nasuada had Svard-Hvass. Three blades, three warriors.

They looked down from Katana's back to say their farewells.

'Goodbye, Sif,' said Nasuada. 'Be a good girl for me, will you? Look after Silarae and Saphira. And Murtagh…' she looked at him with a smile in her eyes. 'Try not to let her get into any more trouble, will you?'

'I will,' Murtagh promised, with a rare smile back at her.

'Goodbye, Murtagh,' said Galbatorix. 'I know you'll never respect me again, but know that I respect you. And you, Carnoc – you've proven yourself a stronger and more honourable man than I am… not that that's much of a compliment, but even so. And Sif…' he paused. 'You're a better person than your father was. I hope you stay that way.'

'My father was not-,' Sif began.

Galbatorix rolled his eyes. 'Katana – let's go.'

Katana unfurled her wings and leapt into the sky.

The journey to Urû'baen was a surprisingly short one. Katana was a powerful flier, and when she put her full power into her wings the ground rushed past beneath her.

Within half a day they were within sight of the city that had once been Galbatorix's capital, and almost at once he saw the great cloud in the sky. It was huge and dark, hanging over the city, a horrible shadow that made him feel sullied just to look at.

'What's that?' he called, to Nasuada.

To his surprise, she answered mentally. 'The Shades' magic. They've been feeding it for years. They say it comes from the middle of the castle and goes right down into the ground. People who are taken to Urû'baen… no-one ever sees them again. They're fed into the cloud. Their lives help to fuel it. It's been getting stronger all the time.'

'What else do you know about it?'

'Murtagh says it's what they used to destroy the old magic. The sort that bound dragons to elves and humans. Now it's spreading out to touch everyone in the Empire. Eventually the Shades – the Shade – will be able to see into the thoughts of everybody he rules over. It will be the end of freedom.'

Galbatorix's eyes narrowed. 'I've heard of this sort of thing,' he said. 'Shade magic… all they care about is power and control. But when Durza dies, that power will be broken.'

The closer they got, the bigger the cloud got, and the darker and more ghastly it seemed. Even Katana was nervous of it. She slowed down. 'We shouldn't go there, Father,' the black dragon whispered mentally. 'I can feel it… it's evil.'

'No, Katana,' said Skade. 'There's no going back now.'

'Land by the gates,' said Galbatorix.

Katana did so. There were people on the walls who saw her coming; they loosed arrows at her, hundreds of them. But Galbatorix deflected them with a shielding spell, and the black dragon touched down with a thud that shook the earth.

Galbatorix, Skade and Nasuada slid down off her back, and without pausing Galbatorix drew his sword and strode toward the gates. He muttered a word under his breath, and then began to speak. 'I am King Galbatorix Taranisäii, come back to claim my throne! Open the gates and let me through!'

His voice echoed through the air, unnaturally loud and powerful. The guards, hearing it, stopped dead.

'Let the Shade come forward!' Galbatorix shouted. 'I have come to punish him for what he has done, and he cannot hide behind walls and guards. Tell him to come.'

He stood there silently, sword in hand, and waited. Skade and Nasuada stood behind him like a pair of guardians, and Katana was behind them, looming over all three like a piece of the night.

Eventually there was a stir on the wall over the gates, and a familiar shape appeared. Eragon. Or what Durza had made him. They could see his crimson hair.

'Durza!' Galbatorix called. 'I've come for you.'

There was a pause, and Durza's voice replied, magnified by magic. 'Where is Rangda? You will tell me where she is.'

'Rangda is dead,' said Galbatorix. 'I killed her. And now I've come for you.'

A howl of anguish split the air, long and loud. 'RANGDA! NO!'

'So the Shade has feelings!' Galbatorix taunted. 'Come down here, Durza, and fight me. If you want revenge, come and take it, Shade.'

There was another silence. 'I will not come,' said Durza. 'You will come to me.'

The gates opened, and a hundred armed men charged out. The next thing they knew, all three of them were fighting for their lives.

Galbatorix and Skade fought side-by-side, moving almost as one being, using both magic and blade. Enemies fell all around them, and then Katana charged forward, snarling. Silver fire belched from her jaws, killing dozens of their attackers, and then she rushed toward the gates, wreaking havoc on the reinforcements as they emerged.

Nasuada stayed close to Galbatorix and Skade, calling upon all her skill to hold her own. The two of them fought as she had never seen anyone fight before. They were partners in a way that went beyond mere love and comradeship – they were like rider and dragon. Their souls were one.

Galbatorix wielded White Violence with the skill and grace of long practise, hacking through flesh and steel alike. A soldier charged at him. He took the man's hand off, sword and all. The man stared at it dumbly. 'I shouldn't have come out here,' he said.

'I'll carve that on your tombstone, you dope,' Galbatorix said, and finished him off with a ruthless upswing.

With Katana's help, the three of them slaughtered over half of their attackers. But that was when Durza acted. The Shade watched it all from over the gates, his pale face utterly emotionless. When he saw that his forces were insufficient, he calmly called upon his magic.

Katana felt it bite into her. She let out a high-pitched scream and toppled forward, landing heavily on her chest. She lay there, trying to get up again, but her legs slid out from under her. She groaned and closed her eyes. Galbatorix and Skade fought their way toward her, Nasuada behind them… and then all the strength flowed out of their bodies. Galbatorix felt his magic desert him. 'So it begins,' he muttered, and threw down his sword.

The guards were on them in an instant, knocking them to their knees and tying their hands together. Their swords were taken away, and the three of them were dragged through the gates and into the city. Galbatorix did not resist. Skade screamed and lashed out at her captors, and was only restrained after a fierce struggle. Nasuada went down fighting. 'No!' she yelled. 'No, this can't happen!'

Galbatorix glanced back at her as he was marched away. 'Don't resist them,' he said. 'It won't do you any good.'

'This is your fault!' Nasuada shouted. 'You said-,'

'I said I'd go alone. It was your choice to come with me and see how this ends.'

'It will end with us dying!' Nasuada screamed.

After that there was no more chance for them to speak. They saw Katana lying helpless as her legs and wings were bound with chains, and then they saw no more.