Nari was quiet as the rode the next day, and she could tell that Brom had noticed. Saphira could tell too.
The old one is concerned, she told Nari.
Yes. But what can I tell him? I was sired by a monster... My father was the one who betrayed the Riders
to Galbatorix. He would hate me if he knew, Nari confided.
I do not think so. Even if the sire is a monster, it does not necessarily follow that the child is as well. You never met the Oathbreaker. How could you have learned anything from him? Nari said nothing, unconvinced.
When they stopped briefly, Brom insisting they needed to rest the horses, he gazed at her with a furrow in his brow.
"Let me see your hand," he commanded gruffly. She blinked in confusion, but peeled off her glove and held out her hand. He examined her burned finger, and the skin around it. He grunted unsatisfactorily when he finished, releasing her hand. "Keep that clean," he warned, "and keep your gloves on."
"I will," she agreed, a faint, teasing smile playing on her lips. He frowned and her and turned away. Her smile grew, just for a moment, before fading away. After all, he wouldn't worry about her so if he knew what kind of man her mother had chosen to father her.
They resumed riding, but Brom began prodding her now that he knew it was not injury keeping her silent. He tested her memory of the Ancient Language, and demanded she practice using magic with the words she knew. Before long, his goading forced her into a better mood. He could not quite hide his satisfaction behind a grumpy face when she began to tease him in turn.
When they halted that evening, the Spine was a faint outline on the horizon, but Nari was both pleased and sad to see it. With the Spine came the sense of being close to home, even though she knew she was many miles from Carvahall.
"Brom?" She murmured. His gaze snapped up to her. "Where did you come from, originally?" The question was abrupt, and Brom had not been expecting it. He blinked in surprise before laughing.
"A village much like Carvahall," he said, "only not quite as interesting." Nari swallowed.
"Do you miss it?" Clearly, Brom heard the wistful sadness in her voice, because he turned to her, face sympathetic. Still, he did not attempt to reassure her. Instead, he looked thoughtful for a moment before answering slowly.
"Sometimes. I think I miss the idea of it, more than I do the actual place. There was nothing left for me there, especially once I'd grown into a man. But I miss that naive feeling of safety, when I felt as though nothing could harm me so long as I was there. That was gone after I left." Nari nodded, tears welling up. She wiped her hand across her eyes while Brom pretended not to see.
"Come," he told her firmly, "we need to practice or I fear we'll both go soft!"
They both got to their feet with their sharpened sticks and began to circle. Nari breathed softly, focusing. She couldn't let her feelings distract her. If it happened in a true battle, she would lose quickly. Still, when Brom leapt forward, she found the feelings of frustration and anger and grief welling up. For a while, Brom was able to fend her off more easily than he had in weeks. But then something inside her shifted, and she was able to think past the blind emotion. She used the feelings, and was able to move faster, retaliate quicker, and strike harder.
In the midst of the fight, Nari delivered such a powerful blow that she snapped both of their sticks like twigs. The pieces whistled into the darkness in a cloud of splintered fragments. Brom tossed what remained of his stick into the fire and said, "We're done with these; throw yours in as well. You have learned well, but we've gone as far as we can with branches. There is nothing more you can gain from them. It is time for you to use a true blade."
"What? We'll cut each other to ribbons," Nari protested as Brom reached for his bag. To her surprise, he held up not only his own short sword but also a red blade she had seen only rarely before. It was about five feet long and, from the way he handled it, rather heavy. The gold pommel was teardrop shaped with the sides cut away to reveal a ruby the size of a small egg. The hilt was wrapped in silver wire, burnished until it gleamed like starlight. The sheath was wine red and smooth as glass, adorned solely by a strange black symbol etched into it. When Brom drew the sword from the sheath, she could tell that the flat blade was iridescent red. As he moved with it, the blade shimmered in the firelight. The keen edges curved gracefully to a sharp point. A duplicate of the black symbol was inscribed on the metal.
"It's beautiful," she told him quietly, staring. He held it out to her, and her gaze shot to his, shocked.
"Take it," he urged. She accepted the blade, testing the weight of it. It was extremely heavy, and it made her arm ache just to hold it up, but the handle fit Nari's hand as if it had been made for her. The balance of the sword was perfect; it felt like an extension of her arm, unlike the rude farm tools she was used to. An air of power lay over it, as if an unstoppable force resided in its core.
"This was once a Rider's blade," said Brom gravely. Her eyes snapped up again, searching his gaze. "When a Rider finished his training, the elves would present him with a sword. Their methods of forging have always remained secret. However, their swords are eternally sharp and will never stain. The custom was to have the blade's color match that of the Rider's dragon, but I think we can make an exception in this case. This sword is named Zar'roc. I don't know what it means, probably something personal to the Rider who owned it."
"Who's sword was it? Where did you get it?" Nari asked
"A mighty warrior," Brom answered her softly, "who was much feared in his time. He held much power." Nari opened her mouth, and Brom raised his hand. "I will not say his name," Brom stared at her for a moment, and Nari nodded slowly, "not to keep you ignorant, but certain knowledge would prove dangerous and distracting you right now. There isn't any reason for me to trouble you with such things until you have time, power and strength to deal with it. I wish to protect you from evil. As for where I got it, I will only say that it took me a series of nasty and dangerous adventures to attain it. Consider it yours. You have more of a claim to it than I do, and before all is done, I think you will need it."
"Are you sure? I can barely hold it, let alone wield it!"
"You will learn," Brom told her, with a faint gleam in his eyes that made her regret the teasing remarks she'd made.
"How can we practice with these without risking injury? You wanted me to wait to learn healing magic, unless you've change your mind." Brom chuckled.
"No," he said. "I've a different spell in mind." He held up his sword and turned it so that firelight glinted off the edge. He put a finger on either side of the blade and focused intensely, deepening the lines on his forehead. For a moment nothing happened, then he uttered, "Gëuloth du knífr!" and a small red spark jumped between his
fingers. As it flickered back and forth, he ran his fingers down the length of the sword. Then he twirled it and did the same thing on the other side. The spark vanished the moment his fingers left the metal.
Brom held his hand out, palm up, and slashed it with the sword. Nari jumped forward but was too slow to stop him.
"Brom!" She cried, scolding and worried. To her astonishment, Brom raised his unharmed hand with a smile. "What did you do?" asked Nari.
"Feel the edge," said Brom. Nari touched it and felt an invisible surface under her fingers. The barrier was about a quarter inch wide and very slippery. "Now do the same on Zar'roc," instructed Brom. "Your block will be a bit different than mine, but it should accomplish the same thing."
He told Nari how to pronounce the words and coached her through the process. It took Nari a few tries, but she soon had Zar'roc's edge protected.
With a shaky breath, Nari took her fighting stance. Before they started, Brom admonished, "These swords won't cut us, but they can still break bones. I would prefer to avoid that, so try not to hit me anywhere important. A blow to the neck could prove fatal."
Nari nodded, then struck without warning. Sparks flew off her blade, and the clash of metal filled their campsite as Brom parried easily. The sword felt slow and heavy to Nari after fighting with sticks for so long. Unable to move Zar'roc fast enough, she received a sharp rap on her knee. The trend continued as time passed by.
When they stopped, Nari had large welps on her arms and legs. Her limbs ached, and she wanted to drop where she stood. Instead, she carefully slipped Zar'roc back into its sheath. Despite her exhaustion, she couldn't help but to marvel that Zar'roc had not been scratched or dented by the vigorous pounding it had received.
When reached the Spine's foothills the next day, and then turned and followed the mountains days later they came to a wide road rutted by wagon wheels.
"This is the main road between the capital, Urû'baen, and Teirm," Brom explained. "It's widely used and a favorite route for merchants. We have to be more cautious. This isn't the busiest time of year, but a few people are bound to be using the road." At his recommendation, they paused so that Nari could bind her chest.
Days passed quickly as they continued to trek along the Spine, searching for the mountain pass. Nari could not complain of boredom. When not learning the elven language, she was either learning how to care for Saphira or practicing magic. Nari also learned how to kill game with magic, despite her claim that she would not use magic to do so. It saved them time hunting, and improved her magical skill at the same time. When she did the magic correctly, it was impossible to miss and the results of her efforts roasted over the fire each night. After dinner, Brom and Nari would spar with swords and, occasionally, fists. She did not look at her mother's journal again, but she consistently filled Du Grind Eom Hûgin with the new words she learned.
She soon found that her body was growing leaner, her arms, legs, and torso stronger. Her tan skin grew darker, and the fat she held in her chest and rump melted away. She had to take in her clothes more often now.
Her breathing often felt pinched and uncomfortable in her bindings, but she endured it without complaint.
When they finally reached the pass, Nari saw that a river rushed out of it and cut across the road. "This is the Toark," explained Brom. "We'll follow it all the way to the sea."
"The sea? But it's heading the wrong direction! It won't end up in the ocean unless it doubles back on itself."
Brom twisted the ring on his finger. "Because in the middle of the mountains rests the Woadark Lake. A river flows from each end of it and both are called the Toark. We see the eastward one now. It runs to the south and winds through the brush until it joins Leona Lake. The other one goes to the sea."
"What is the sea like?" Nari asked.
"You must have heard it described before," said Brom.
"Yes, but what is it really like?"
Brom's eyes grew hazy, as if he looked upon some hidden scene. "The sea is emotion incarnate. It loves, hates, and weeps. It defies all attempts to capture it with words and rejects all shackles. No matter what you say about it, there is always that which you can't. Do you remember what I told you about how the elves came over the sea?"
"Yes."
"Though they live far from the coast, they retain a great fascination and passion for the ocean. The sound of crashing waves, the smell of salt air, it affects them deeply and has inspired many of their loveliest songs. There is one that tells of this love, if you want to hear it."
"I would," Nari exclaimed, straightening up.
Brom cleared his throat and said, "I will translate it from the ancient language as best I can. It won't be perfect, but perhaps it will give you an idea of how the original sounds." He pulled Snowfire to a stop and closed his eyes. He was silent for a while, then chanted softly:
O liquid temptress 'neath the azure sky,
Your gilded expanse calls me, calls me.
For I would sail ever on,
Were it not for the elven maid,
Who calls me, calls me.
She binds my heart with a lily-white tie,
Never to be broken, save by the sea,
Ever to be torn twixt the trees and the waves.
The words echoed hauntingly in Nari's head. "There is much more to that song, the 'Du Silbena Datia.' I have only recited one of its verses. It tells the sad tale of two lovers, Acallamh and Nuada, who were separated by longing for the sea. The elves find great meaning in the story."
"I don't think I understand that, exactly," Nari admitted. "But it sounds beautiful." Brom smiled faintly.
"The elves are complex creatures, it's true, but there is not just one meaning it. The meaning is different for everyone, based on their own experiences and interpretations."
"What do you take from it?" Nari asked quietly, unsure if he would answer. He stared off into the distance for long moments. Finally, he spoke, his voice so soft Nari had to strain to hear.
"There are things in life that we are bound to; duty, honor, and vengeance may all tie us more strongly than any rope. Sometimes, we must sacrifice the company of those we care for most to uphold those things. It is not an easy task, or even a rewarding one, but still we must carry on."
She felt sad for Brom. Without him saying the words, she knew exactly what he meant. Somewhere in his past, Brom had been in love, and he'd lost her in the course of his duty. Nari fell silent and they did not speak for the rest of the day.
After two days in the Spine, they came upon a rock ledge from which they could see clearly out of the mountains. Nari noticed how the land flattened in the distance, and she gasped at how far it was. "Down there and to the north lies Teirm. It is an old city. Some say it's where the elves first landed in Alagaësia. Its citadel has never fallen, nor have its warriors ever been defeated." He spurred Snowfire forward and left the ledge. Nari paused a moment, staring out at the distance. She had soared upon Saphira's back, seeing the land for miles around, but this felt more familiar. How many times had she climbed to the tops of trees or hiked up the mountains and gazed off into the distance, wondering what was out there? Now she was finding out. With a faint smile, Nari nudged Dusk forward, rocking with his movement as he lurched down the slope.
It took them until noon the next day to descend through the foothills and arrive at the other side of the Spine, where the forested land quickly leveled out. Without the mountains to hide behind, Saphira flew close to the ground, using every hollow and dip in the land to conceal herself.
Beyond the forest, they noticed a change. The countryside was covered with soft turf and heather that their feet sank into. Moss clung to every stone and branch and lined the streams that laced the ground. Pools of mud pocked the road where horses had trampled the dirt. Before long both Brom and Nari were splattered with grime.
"Everything is so green!" Nari marveled. "Don't they have winter here?"
"Yes, but the season is mild. Mist and fog roll in from the sea and keep everything alive. Some find it to their liking, but to me it's dreary and depressing." Nari glanced around, wondering what it would feel like to have no snow. It would be better for planting, to be sure, but Nari thought she might miss the snow. Besides, she the wetness of everything made the cold seep down into her bones.
When evening fell, they set up camp in the driest spot they could find. As they ate, Brom commented, "You should continue to ride Dusk until we reach Teirm. It's likely that we'll meet other travelers now that we are out of the Spine, and it will be better if you are with me. An old man traveling alone will raise suspicion. With you at my side, no one will ask questions. Besides, I don't want to show up at the city and have someone who saw me on the trail wondering where you suddenly came from." Nari nodded, understanding.
"Will we use our own names?" she asked.
Brom thought about it. "We won't be able to deceive Jeod. He already knows my name, and I think I trust him with yours. But to everyone else, I will be Neal. If you wish to continue the deception of being a boy, you can be my nephew Evan. If our tongues slip and give us away, it probably won't make a difference, but I don't want our names in anyone's heads. People have an annoying habit of remembering things they shouldn't."
"True," Nari allowed. "I do think I should continue to be a boy, at least for now."
"As you say," Brom agreed.
After two days of traveling north toward the ocean, Saphira sighted Teirm. A heavy fog clung to the ground, obscuring Brom's and Nari's sight until a breeze from the west blew the mist away. Nari gaped as Teirm was suddenly revealed before them, nestled by the edge of the shimmering sea, where proud ships were docked with furled sails. The surf's dull thunder could be heard in the distance.
The city was contained behind a towering white wall—a hundred feet tall and thirty feet thick—with rows of rectangular arrow slits lining it and a walkway on top for soldiers and watchmen. The wall's smooth surface was broken by two iron portcullises, one facing the western sea, the other opening south to the road. Above the wall—and set against its northeast section—rose a huge citadel built of giant stones and turrets. In the highest tower, a lighthouse lantern gleamed brilliantly. The castle was the only thing visible over the fortifications.
Soldiers guarded the southern gate but held their pikes carelessly. "This is our first test," said Brom. "Let's hope they haven't received reports of us from the Empire and won't detain us. Whatever happens, don't panic or act suspiciously."
Nari spoke to Saphira, You should land somewhere now and hide. We're going in.
Sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. Again, she said sourly.
I know. But Brom and I do have some advantages most people don't. Everything will be fine.
If anything happens, I'm going to pin you to my back and never let you off.
I love you too, sister of my soul.
Then I will bind you all the tighter.
Nari and Brom rode toward the gate, trying to appear casual. A yellow pennant bearing the outline of a roaring lion and an arm holding a lily blossom waved over the entrance. As they neared the wall, Nari asked in amazement, "How big is this place?"
"Larger than any city you have ever seen," said Brom.
"Considering that Daret was the largest city I'd ever seen, you're not wrong there!" Nari laughed.
At the entrance to Teirm, the guards stood straighter and blocked the gate with their pikes. "Wha's yer name?" asked one of them in a bored tone.
"I'm called Neal," said Brom in a wheezy voice, slouching to one side, an expression of happy idiocy on his face.
"And who's th' other one?" asked the guard.
"Well, I wus gettin' to that. This'ed be m'nephew Evan. He's m'sister's boy, not a . . ." Nari tried to hide a smile at the look of impatience the guards shared between them.
The guard nodded impatiently. "Yeah, yeah. And yer business here?"
"He's visitin' an old friend," supplied Nari, trying to drop her voice and put on a thick accent. "I'm along t' make sure he don't get lost, if y' get m'meaning. He ain't as young as he used to be—had a bit too much sun when he was young'r. Touch o' the brain fever, y' know." Brom bobbed his head pleasantly.
"Right. Go on through," said the guard, waving his hand and dropping the pike. "Just make sure he doesn't cause any trouble."
"Oh, he won't," promised Nari. She urged Dusk forward, and they rode into Teirm. The cobblestone street clacked under the horses' hooves.
Once they were away from the guards, Brom sat up and growled, "Touch of brain fever, eh?"
"I couldn't let you have all the fun," teased Nari.
Brom harrumphed and looked away, but Nari caught the sparkle in his eyes that betrayed his amusement.
The houses were grim and foreboding. Small, deep windows let in only sparse rays of light. Narrow doors were recessed into the buildings. The tops of the roofs were flat—except for metal railings—and all were covered with slate shingles. Nari noticed that the houses closest to Teirm's outer wall were no more than one story, but the buildings got progressively higher as they went in. Those next to the citadel were tallest of all, though insignificant compared to the fortress.
"This place looks ready for war," said Nari.
Brom nodded. "Teirm has a history of being attacked by pirates, Urgals, and other enemies. It has long been a center of commerce. There will always be conflict where riches gather in such abundance. The people here have been forced to take extraordinary measures to keep themselves from being overrun. It also helps that Galbatorix gives them soldiers to defend their city."
"Why are some houses higher than others?"
"Look at the citadel," said Brom, pointing. "It has an unobstructed view of Teirm. If the outer wall were breached, archers would be posted on all the roofs. Because the houses in the front, by the outer wall, are lower, the men farther back could shoot over them without fear of hitting their comrades. Also, if the enemy were to capture those houses and put their own archers on them, it would be an easy matter to shoot them down."
"I've never heard of a city planned like this," said Nari in wonder.
"Yes, but it was only done after Teirm was nearly burned down by a pirate raid," commented Brom. As they continued up the street, people gave them searching looks, but there was not an undue amount of interest.
Compared to our reception at Daret, we've been welcomed with open arms. Perhaps Teirm has escaped notice by the Urgals, Nari pondered. She changed her opinion when a large man shouldered past them, a sword hanging from his waist. There were other, subtler signs of adverse times: no children played in the streets, people bore hard expressions, and many houses were deserted, with weeds growing from cracks in their stone-covered yards. "It looks like they've had trouble," said Nari.
"The same as everywhere else," said Brom grimly. "We have to find Jeod." They led their horses across the street to a tavern and tied them to the hitching post.
"The Green Chestnut . . . wonderful," muttered Brom, looking at the battered sign above them as he and Nari entered the building.
The dingy room felt unsafe. A fire smoldered in the fireplace, yet no one bothered to throw more wood on it. A few lonely people in the corners nursed their drinks with sullen expressions. A man missing two fingers sat at a far table, eyeing his twitching stumps. The bartender had a cynical twist to his lips and held a glass in his hand that he kept polishing, even though it was broken.
Brom leaned against the bar and asked, "Do you know where we can find a man called Jeod?" Nari stood at his side, fiddling with the tip of her bow by her waist. It was slung across her back, but right then she wished that it were in her hands.
The bartender said in an overly loud voice, "Now, why would I know something like that? Do you think I keep track of the mangy louts in this forsaken place?" Nari winced, shifting uneasily as all eyes turned toward them.
Brom kept talking smoothly, seeming unperturbed. "Could you be enticed to remember?" He slid some coins onto the bar.
The man brightened and put his glass down. "Could be," he replied, lowering his voice, "but my memory takes a great deal of prodding." Brom's face soured, but he slid more coins onto the bar. The bartender sucked on one side of his cheek undecidedly. "All right," he finally said, and reached for the coins.
Before he touched them, the man missing two fingers called out from his table, "Gareth, what in th' blazes do you think you're doing? Anyone on the street could tell them where Jeod lives. What are you charging them for?"
Brom swept the coins back into his purse. Gareth shot a venomous look at the man at the table, then turned his back on them and picked up the glass again. Brom went to the stranger and said, "Thanks. The name's Neal. This is Evan."
The man raised his mug to them. "Martin, and of course you met Gareth." His voice was deep and rough. Martin gestured at some empty chairs. "Go ahead and sit down. I don't mind." Nari took a chair and arranged it so her back was to the wall and she faced the door. Martin raised an eyebrow, but made no comment.
"You just saved me a few crowns," said Brom.
"My pleasure. Can't blame Gareth, though—business hasn't been doing so well lately." Martin scratched his chin. "Jeod lives on the west side of town, right next to Angela, the herbalist. Do you have business with him?"
"Of a sort," said Brom.
"Well, he won't be interested in buying anything; he just lost another ship a few days ago."
Brom latched onto the news with interest. "What happened? It wasn't Urgals, was it?"
"No," said Martin. "They've left the area. No one's seen 'em in almost a year. It seems they've all gone south and east. But they aren't the problem. See, most of our business is through sea trade, as I'm sure you know. Well," he stopped to drink from his mug, "starting several months ago, someone's been attacking our ships. It's not the usual piracy, because only ships that carry the goods of certain merchants are attacked. Jeod's one of 'em. It's gotten so bad that no captain will accept those merchants' goods, which makes life difficult around here. Especially because some of 'em run the largest shipping businesses in the Empire. They're being forced to send goods by land. It's driven costs painfully high, and their caravans don't always make it." Nari frowned, concerned. Why would only certain ships be targeted by these people, instead of all of them? How could they know which ship has which merchant's cargo? Unless there was someone inside the records office helping them? That might make their mission a bit harder than they'd expected.
"Do you have any idea who's responsible? There must be witnesses," said Brom.
Martin shook his head. "No one survives the attacks. Ships go out, then disappear; they're never seen again." He leaned toward them and said in a confidential tone, "The sailors are saying that it's magic." He nodded and winked, then leaned back.
Brom seemed worried by his words. "What do you think?"
Martin shrugged carelessly. "I don't know. And I don't think I will unless I'm unfortunate enough to be on one of those captured ships."
"Are you a sailor?" asked Nari.
"No," snorted Martin. "Do I look like one? The captains hire me to defend their ships against pirates. And those thieving scum haven't been very active lately. Still, it's a good job."
"But a dangerous one," said Brom. Martin shrugged again and downed the last of his beer. Brom and Nari took their leave and headed to the west side of the city, a nicer section of Teirm.