Chapter Fourteen

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When Galbatorix and Nasuada finally reached the open air, emerging at the top of the tower where Shruikan had once perched, they found a scene of utter confusion in the city below. Those who had been disabled by Vervada's power had recovered, and some were resuming their fight. Most of them, however, were fleeing Urû'baen as fast as they could go.

'Sensible,' Galbatorix remarked, watching them.

As for the dragons, many had been killed by their fall from the sky. But Kullervo and many of his fellow wild dragons were still alive, and so were two of Eragon's riders. Galbatorix looked urgently for a black dragon, and finally spotted Lifrasir over by the city's outer wall. He reached out to her with his mind.

'Lifrasir!'

A brief silence, and then her voice replied. 'Father! You're alive! Where are you?'

Galbatorix sent her an image of the tower. 'Come and get me,' he told her. 'And hurry!'

Lifrasir asked no questions. She took off and flew up toward the castle as fast as she could go, dodging attacks from the two remaining riders.

Galbatorix and Nasuada waited tensely, watching the trapdoor that they had come for, lest anyone should come through it. Someone else might have decided to stand on it in order to keep it shut, but they both knew how pointless that would be. A Shade was hardly likely to be held back by a door, no matter how heavy it was.

As if to prove the point, the door crumbled into dust at this point and Rangda and Durza climbed through it and onto the roof. Nasuada and Galbatorix backed away from them, but there was nowhere to go. Nasuada let out a great sob at the sight of her beloved's ashy, barely recognisable face, and Galbatorix readied his sword.

'I'm warning you,' he said. 'Stay away from me. I don't want to have to fight you. I just want to go.'

'Relax, half-breed,' said Rangda, touching the hilt of the yellow-bladed sword on her back. 'We have no interest in you. We just want her.'

Nasuada drew her own sword. 'Stand back,' she snarled, her hands shaking.

Durza laughed a cold, jarring laugh without any trace of humour in it. 'Humans. They're all the same,' he said. 'So earnest. So arrogant. So stupid.' He reached up to his shoulder and drew the blue-bladed sword, Íssbrandr, pointing it at Nasuada.

Nasuada lowered her sword slightly. 'Eragon?' she said, looking the Shade in the eye with a desperate expression. 'Eragon! It's me! Can't you hear me?'

Durza's sneer faded. He blinked a few times, and all of a sudden his eyes changed. They went from maroon back to brown. 'Nasuada…' he whispered, and it was Eragon's voice coming from Eragon's face.

'Eragon!' Nasuada cried. She dropped her sword and stepped toward him.

Eragon's eyes flipped back to maroon. Durza's voice came from his throat, laughing a horrible harsh laugh. 'Deyja!' the Shade cried.

A ball of red light sprang from Durza's hand.

'Get out of the way!' Galbatorix shouted, and cannoned into Nasuada, bowling her over. The ball of magic shot forward. It caught Galbatorix a glancing blow on the forehead, and he slumped to the ground.

Durza cursed and span around to face Nasuada, who was getting up. He shot a second ball of light toward her, but she dodged it and ran.

Nasuada didn't think. She grabbed hold of the back of Galbatorix's robe and leapt from the top of the tower. Rangda and Durza ran to the edge to look, and saw a huge black dragon swoop under the two falling humans, catching them both on its back before it flew up and away from the city as fast as it could go.

Nasuada pulled herself into the hollow between the dragon's shoulderblades, dragging the unconscious Galbatorix with her, and there held on as best she could, wrapping an arm around Galbatorix's thin chest to keep him from falling. The black dragon flew away from the city at high speed, chased by the two remaining riders and also by a number of wild dragons. She outpaced them with relative ease, but they didn't give up until a high wind suddenly blew up and lightning flashed, forcing them to take cover. Nasuada cringed at the gathering storm, but the black dragon flew on unperturbed. The wind gathered under her wings and sped her forward, and within minutes Urû'baen was fading into the distance. Nasuada, huddled on the dragon's back, suddenly heard a voice in her head.

'You are the Brat's mate, aren't you?'

Nasuada started violently – her nerves were shot to pieces. But after a moment or two she realised that the black dragon had spoken to her. 'I am,' she said, half-shouting over the wind.

'I'm Lifrasir,' said the dragon's voice. 'I am… what happened in the castle?'

'Shades!' Nasuada shouted back. 'Two of them!'

'Shades?' said Lifrasir's voice. 'You mean… was one of them a female with white hair?'

'Yes!' said Nasuada.

'I thought I knew her,' said Lifrasir. 'It seems I was wrong. Hold on. We'll talk once we're in a safe place. Is Galbatorix all right?'

'I don't know!' said Nasuada. She was beginning to go hoarse.

Lifrasir didn't reply. She put her head down and sped up. For what felt like hours, she flew over Alagaësia, the landscape below moving by with a speed that shocked Nasuada, who had only ridden on a dragon's back a very few times in her life, and never this fast.

They didn't stop until they had passed over a lake and finally reached the Spine, by which time night had fallen. Lifrasir came to rest among some thick forest in a valley, and there she lay flat on her stomach so that Nasuada could slide off without injuring herself. She pulled Galbatorix with her, landing awkwardly on the ground with him on top of her. Lifrasir immediately stood up and brought her head around to look at him. Nasuada pushed his limp form off her and stood up, only to find an enormous golden eye fixed on her.

'Is he all right?' Lifrasir asked, speaking out loud this time.

Nasuada crouched by Galbatorix and checked for injuries, but the only ones she found were old or minor. She put two fingers on the side of his neck, checking for a pulse, and then looked up. 'His heart has stopped,' she said.

'He can't be dead!' said Lifrasir.

'I'm sorry, Lifrasir,' said Nasuada.

Lifrasir sniffed at Galbatorix, whispering his name. She got no response.

There was silence for a few moments, and then Lifrasir looked up sorrowfully at Nasuada. The woman and the dragon simply watched each other for a time, both grief-stricken – one for her father, and one for her lover.

Eventually Nasuada said; 'He died to save me. And I don't even know why. I was his enemy.'

On the ground at her feet, Galbatorix twitched once, violently, and then started to cough. Nasuada froze, staring down at him, and saw him groan and put a hand to his forehead. She knelt by his side, reaching toward him rather hesitantly. 'Sire?' she said. 'Uh… Galbatorix?'

Galbatorix's hand shot up and caught hers, holding it by the wrist in a vicelike grip. His eyes blinked open and he focused on her. For a moment he looked bewildered, and then he saw Lifrasir, watching him with joy in her eyes.

'Lifrasir,' he said.

'Father!' said Lifrasir. 'You're alive!'

Nasuada pulled her wrist free. 'I can't believe this,' she said. 'Your heart had stopped!'

Galbatorix sat up. 'You must have been mistaken,' he said. 'Would you help me up, please?'

Nasuada took his hand and hauled him upright, and he leant on Lifrasir's snout, blinking dazedly. 'Oooh, my head hurts,' he mumbled. 'I really… need to try and live a more sedate life.'

'You saved me,' said Nasuada. 'Twice.'

Galbatorix shook his head a few times to clear it. 'You're welcome,' he said.

'I don't understand,' said Nasuada. 'Why? I'm no friend to you, I never have been. I helped my father send assassins after you, I led the Varden against the Empire, and you sent me to the mines… so why do it? Why risk your life to save mine?'

'I couldn't leave you to Rangda,' said Galbatorix. 'I suppose… well, I can't be the bad guy all the time, can I?' He tried to smile. 'I suppose,' he said again. 'I suppose I did it for Eragon, in a way.'

Nasuada faltered. 'But you… you hated him!'

'So I did,' said Galbatorix. 'But after what Rangda did to him… no-one should be punished as badly as that. He wanted you to live. And I heard Rangda tell him you were pregnant. How could I leave a pregnant woman to die? No, even I couldn't do that.'

'I didn't know,' said Nasuada. 'Until she said it, I didn't know. She could have been lying.'

Galbatorix shrugged. 'Well, you're safe now. You can go wherever you like, but be careful. Rangda will still be looking for you.'

'What happened in the castle?' Lifrasir interrupted. 'What was Rangda doing there?'

Galbatorix shook his head. 'We've lost, Lifrasir,' he said. 'Rangda… she was behind this. All of it. Vervada was working for her from the beginning. The – Eragon had no choice. He was Vervada's puppet. Rangda was punishing him for killing Durza. And now he's dead.'

Nasuada let out a sob. Galbatorix watched her as she struggled to control herself, but made no move to comfort her. 'If it's any comfort,' he said. 'I know what it's like to lose someone I loved.'

Nasuada showed no sign of having heard him. She put her hands over her face and slumped into a sitting position. 'Oh, Eragon,' she moaned. 'Eragon!'

'So Rangda killed him?' said Lifrasir in a low voice.

'Not quite,' said Galbatorix.

'Not quite…?'

'Eragon is alive, in a way,' Galbatorix said heavily. 'Rangda turned him into a vessel for Durza's essence. She brought him back. Eragon's body is alive and walking around, but his mind is gone forever and so is his soul.'

'No!' said Nasuada, looking up suddenly. 'He's alive. He's still in there. I saw him.'

Galbatorix shook his head. 'No, Nasuada,' he said. 'Eragon is gone. I may have hated him, but I wouldn't have wished that fate on him in a million years. That's the price he paid in order to call himself Shadeslayer.' He made a strange, bitter, half-laughing sound.

'But I saw him,' said Nasuada through her tears. 'I heard his voice. He was calling for me.'

'Durza was just tormenting you,' said Galbatorix. He reached out to touch her shoulder, but withdrew before she noticed. 'I assure you, Eragon is gone. There is no way to save him, and nothing left to save. I'm sorry, but you'll have to find a way to live with that.'

Nasuada's look of determined hope faded. 'Why is life so cruel?' she asked plaintively.

'I've asked myself that question a thousand times,' said Galbatorix, looking up at the stars. 'But I never found a convincing answer.' He sighed. 'We don't have any time to stand around here. Lifrasir and I will take you to wherever you want to go, and after that you're on your own. I've done all I can for you.'

Nasuada stood up shakily. 'What will you do?' she asked. 'Will you… fight them?'

'No,' said Galbatorix. 'My fighting days are over. I have no chance against two Shades; no-one has. I've done enough for Alagaësia. Come on.'

Lifrasir crouched and held out a foreleg, and Galbatorix climbed onto her back, holding out a hand to help Nasuada up. She accepted it, and settled uncomfortably behind him.

'Where should I go?' Lifrasir asked, standing up and spreading her wings.

'To Farthen Dûr,' said Nasuada, suddenly determined.

'Why?' asked Galbatorix.

'I have nowhere else to go,' said Nasuada.

'As you wish,' said Lifrasir. She took off.

They travelled the few days it took to get to Farthen Dûr without stopping once. Lifrasir flew through day and night, and Galbatorix and Nasuada had to snatch a little sleep by napping briefly on her back, taking turns to do so. They spoke very little; neither trusted the other, and both were exhausted and worn. Nasuada's initial tears had given way to a stony-faced silence, and Galbatorix was secretly impressed by how well she was holding together, given all that had happened.

They reached Farthen Dûr at night, the broken mountain looking like a yawning monster in the darkness with the cavernous hole in its side full of shadows. There Lifrasir landed, and Nasuada climbed down from her back.

'Thankyou,' she said, touching Lifrasir's neck.

'Good luck, Nasuada,' said Lifrasir.

'Good luck,' Galbatorix echoed. He drew the green-bladed sword from his belt, and tossed it to her. 'Keep it,' he said. 'It might come in handy one day.'

Nasuada picked up the sword from where it had landed on the stony ground. 'Thankyou, Galbatorix,' she said. 'I won't forget what you did for me.'

'Its name is Svard-Hvass,' said Galbatorix. 'It used to belong to a rider called Carina. Look after it; it's older than I am.'

'I will,' said Nasuada.

Galbatorix nodded. 'Goodbye.'

Lifrasir flew away, becoming almost invisible against the blackened sky almost at once. The black dragon glided back the way she had come, heading out of the Beor mountains.

'So,' she said mentally. 'Where shall we go?'

'We'll find Valdyr,' said Galbatorix. 'Then we'll go the only place we can go.'

'Home,' said Lifrasir.

'Yes.'

'Why did you do it, Father?' said Lifrasir. 'Why save the Brat's mate?'

'I acted on instinct,' said Galbatorix. 'It felt like the right thing to do. I might not have saved her for anything, anyway. Rangda and Durza will keep looking for her.'

'What will they do, Father?' Lifrasir asked. 'Can you guess?'

'I don't have to guess,' said Galbatorix. 'I know. Rangda was clever. Very, very clever. Her plan did more than get her revenge and bring Durza back. It also got her the Empire. They're both secure in Urû'baen now, and they have Vervada and control of both armies. And they have Kullervo. The wild dragons are in their power now, and they've removed both Eragon and me – the two leaders most likely to take control of the Empire. They'll rule Alagaësia now. Two Shades on the throne. Who would have thought it?' he laughed bitterly.

'There must be something we can do,' said Lifrasir.

'There isn't,' said Galbatorix. 'And I mean there really isn't. I could have beaten Eragon, and maybe I could have beaten one Shade. But not two of them. And not now they have the Empire under their command. If I led an army against them, they would take control of it on the spot. Vervada was holding herself back before because she wasn't really working for Eragon. But now she and Rangda are side-by-side… any fight would be over before it began.'

'But you could think of something…'

'You overestimate me, Lifrasir. Yes, I'm a fighter. A good enough one to know when I'm beaten. All I want to do now is go to Skade.'

Lifrasir couldn't think of any way to argue with that. This time Galbatorix wasn't speaking from despair, but from simple common sense, and she accepted it. He was right. The war was over and they had lost. Everyone had lost. All they could do now was go to Ravana's country, and Skade. Even Rangda wouldn't follow them there. But there was more than just that on the black dragon's mind.

'Father?' she said eventually.

'Yes?'

'You were… you really did die, didn't you? Before. Your heart really had stopped.'

'Don't be ridiculous, Lifrasir,' said Galbatorix, with unusual sharpness. 'Of course I didn't die. It's impossible.'

'Yes,' saidLifrasir. 'Of course. Forget I spoke.'

Galbatorix didn't miss the tone of her mental voice, but he said nothing. He sat brooding in silence for a while, until something occurred to him. He thought it over for a moment or two, then spread his right hand over Lifrasir's neck and said; 'Efla skulblaka bl'ár.'

Lifrasir shuddered slightly as the magic moved over her scales. In the darkness it was barely visible, but they had changed back to their original dark blue.

'Thanks,' she said.

'You'll be less noticeable this way,' was all Galbatorix said.

'I love you, you know, Father,' said Lifrasir. 'With all my heart. No matter what happens.'

'Thankyou, Lifrasir,' Galbatorix said quietly.

In her small camp in the forest not far from the beach, Skade sat by a fire and watched the infants at play. Only one of them was human. The small silver-haired boy with the impenetrable black eyes, now just old enough to begin crawling, giggled as he watched the antics of three dragon hatchlings who were chasing each other around the camp. A fourth hatchling was curled up beside him, dozing, and a fifth was perched in the branches of a tree. They had hatched from the eggs which Skade had brought with her; three had been fathered by Thorn, and two by Shruikan. Ravana had been gravely pleased when Skade presented the eggs to him and she knew, as most others didn't, that his dream had always been to rule over an extended dragon clan, and that these new additions were very welcome in his eyes.

In a way, Skade was glad to be back in her father's country. She had spent most of her life there, and was familiar with a large part of its rugged, wild landscape. Here there were no enemies and she could do as she pleased. But her elvish form wasn't very well suited to the place. It was inhospitable and there were very few good places to shelter and not much in the way of proper food. She'd had to supplement the meat that Skirnir brought her with seeds, berries and the occasional edible root, but these were small and hard to find, and the lack of vegetables in her diet made her feel weak and lethargic. Not that it would matter for long. The instant that her son was weaned, Ravana would change her back into a dragon and would probably change him, too. Skade wasn't sure if she really cared about that. Now that Galbatorix was gone there was little point in wearing the form of an elf, since she had only taken it up in order to be with him. She had often missed being a dragon, but had never complained about it. It would be good to be able to fly again, and feel the wind on her wings. And when she became a dragon again, she wouldn't feel the cold so much.

Skade shivered slightly, and pulled a crudely-tanned animal hide around her shoulders. It was early morning, and thick white mist swirled among the trees, which were of the strange silver-barked kind that grew only here. The spicy scent of their leaves filled the air, dampened by the mist, which made the forest look strange and ethereal and also limited visibility to within a few metres of where she sat.

A cold breeze blew in from the sea, bringing a salty smell with it. Skade looked up, feeling inexplicably uneasy. Then she heard a strange sound. It came from some way away, in the direction of the beach. It was a splitting, splintering sound – the sound of breaking wood. It was followed by another, this one much closer. Skade half-stood, groping for the hilt of White Violence, which was lying on the ground beside her. Holding the white sword in one hand, she watched nervously for any sign of movement. The sound of breaking wood continued, getting closer all the time, slightly muffled by the mist but still quite distinct. And then she heard voices drifting up from among the trees further downhill. They were faint and she couldn't make out the words, but they were voices all the same. Skade didn't know what to do. Should she stay where she was and challenge the intruders, or take her son and go? But then her golden eyes narrowed. This was her home, and no-one was going to drive her out of it as they had driven her out of Urû'baen. She may have been wearing the body of an elf, but she was still a dragon at heart, and no dragon likes to have her territory invaded. She would stand and wait for them and, if necessary, fight.

The voices got closer, and more distinct.

'…place is strange,' one said. 'The trees smell like… herbs or something. Is it all like…?'

A second voice replied with something unintelligible. Direction was hard to judge in the mist, but it sounded like they were coming from more or less the same place. And still getting closer.

The voices were silent for a time, but the crash of wood got louder and louder. Making its way up the hill. Skade moved to the edge of the clearing and peered downhill, and sure enough she could see a dark mass coming up it, felling trees as it went. Then she heard a third voice.

'By the lost gods, I can't see a thing in all this. Is it always so foggy here?'

'No,' the second voice replied. 'It's very hot for most of the year. We came here during autumn.'

'I'll see if there's anything I can do,' said the third voice. There was silence for a time, and then it said; 'No, looks like that won't work. We'll just have to put up with it.'

The voices were much more distinct now. The strangers were getting closer. Skade went back to stand by the fire, choosing a spot close to her son, sword at the ready to defend him.

There was silence again, then, broken only by the falling trees and the squeaks of the tussling hatchlings as they mock-fought each other in the firelight. Then Skade saw a dark shape emerge at the top of the hill, just outside the clearing. It paused where it was, its size difficult to estimate amongst the swirling whiteness. But it clearly wasn't a dragon. Then it said; 'I'm at the top of the hill.'

The voice echoed slightly amongst the trees. A deep, powerful voice. A familiar voice.

'Who's there?' said Skade, not trusting her instincts.

There was a sudden movement from the shape. 'Skade?' it called. 'Is that you?'

'Yes,' Skade replied, gripping White Violence's silver hilt more tightly.

The shape stayed still for a short time, and then began coming toward her. Two other shapes, these much larger, appeared behind it. The smallest shape, the one that had spoken, moved much faster. Then it broke into a run, but its gait was oddly irregular. At long last it burst into the clearing, finally becoming fully visible in the firelight, and there it halted.

It was a man. A man in a long black robe with a pointed black beard. His slightly greying hair was curly and hung like a mane around his neck and shoulders. And he was looking straight at her, his stern face softening into a smile.

'Skade,' he said.

Skade stared at him. 'Galbatorix?' she said, not quite believing what she was seeing.

'Yes, it's me,' said the man. 'It's Galbatorix. I came to find you, Skade.'

'Galbatorix…?' said Skade again, walking slowly toward him.

'Skade,' said Galbatorix, his eyes warm.

Skade reached him, carelessly dropping the sword. She stared into his face, reaching out to touch it as if to reassure herself that it was real. Her fingers brushed his forehead and his cheeks, then ran through his hair, letting the curls slide between them.

'Skade,' said Galbatorix again.

Skade withdrew her hand and looked him up and down. Then she punched him in the jaw.

Taken by surprise, Galbatorix fell over backward. Looking up at her from the ground, he put a hand to his chin. 'Ow!' he said. 'What was that for?'

'You!' Skade shouted. 'You-! How could you do this to me? Do you know what I've gone through since I lost you? Do you know how miserable I was? I-!' her voice broke suddenly. 'Oh… Galbatorix, I thought you were dead. For months you were dead to me – how can you be here now? Am I just dreaming?'

'I'm real enough,' said Galbatorix, picking himself up. 'I'm sorry, Skade. I didn't mean for any of this to happen.'

He reached out to her. Skade drew back, staring at him as if he were a ghost.

'Skade,' said Galbatorix again, a hint of sternness in his voice. 'Don't look at me like that. I went through hell and back to find you again and the least you can do is be happy to see me.'

Skade watched him, not seeming to understand. Her beautiful, wild face had gone pale, its eyes big and childlike. But then whatever barrier that lay between them broke down and the silver elf started to cry. Galbatorix took her in his arms and held her close, and she sobbed into his thin chest. He stroked her hair and murmured to soothe her, but he was very close to crying himself.

Lifrasir and Valdyr emerged from the mist and Lifrasir, sensing that her parents needed some time alone together, wordlessly motioned to Valdyr that they should leave. The two dragons departed as quietly as they could, heading back toward the beach where they had landed.

Skade and Galbatorix embraced fiercely, as if they would never let each other go, holding each other so close that it was as if they were trying to make their two bodies merge into one. Both had travelled a long way and suffered great loss, but they had survived to find each other again, and for now that was all that mattered. Their love, which had survived a century, one bound by undying oaths of devotion… their love was made all the stronger in that moment.

'I missed you so much,' Skade sobbed. 'I thought I would die.'

'You kept me going,' said Galbatorix, his voice gone all shaky. 'The thought of you… knowing you were here waiting for me… it kept me alive.'

At length the initial shock and tears wore off, and Skade laughed weakly. 'Never leave me again,' she said. 'Ever.'

'On my honour as a rider,' said Galbatorix, finally letting her go. 'Then again,' he added bitterly, 'I'm not a rider any more, am I? Oh, Skade, I'm so tired. A hundred years is a long time, but those few months where I was lost… they felt even longer. We've lost everything. Shruikan, the Empire, our home… it's all gone. Everything.'

'Not everything,' said Skade, taking his hand and leading him to the fireside. She picked up the silver-haired boy, who snuggled contentedly in her arms, his black eyes peering at Galbatorix. 'This is our son,' said Skade.

Galbatorix reached out to touch the child's forehead. 'He has your hair,' he said.

'And your eyes,' said Skade. 'Here, take him.'

Galbatorix accepted the child, and held him somewhat awkwardly. The child's pudgy hands reached upward and took hold of his beard, tugging at the coarse hairs. Galbatorix smiled, and the child laughed.

'Have you given him a name?' Galbatorix asked.

Skade nodded. 'I called him Skandar,' she said. 'Prince Skandar Ravana, son of Galbatorix.'

Galbatorix cradled the child and looked up at Skade. 'You named him after my father.'

'And mine,' said Skade. 'They're both good strong names.'

'Skandar is the dark elvish name for a falcon,' said Galbatorix.

'And Ravana is the dragonish name for a dark spirit,' said Skade.

'Is your father here?' asked Galbatorix, glancing upward rather nervously.

'Yes,' said Skade. 'Not here, precisely… he's probably still sleeping. He sleeps for most of the day.'

'They called him the Night Dragon for a good reason, then,' said Galbatorix.

'He won't like you being here,' said Skade. 'He hates humans. He told me that as soon as Skandar was weaned he would change me back into a dragon.'

'But Skandar can't look after himself,' said Galbatorix. 'Even if he is weaned.'

'My father said he would change him, too,' said Skade. 'This is a land for dragons, not humans or elves.'

'We should leave here, then,' said Galbatorix. 'Though I don't know where we'd go. Alagaësia isn't safe for us any more.'

'I can't,' said Skade. 'My father made me swear an oath that I would stay here forever. I can't leave here unless he releases me from it.'

Galbatorix cursed. 'Why did you let him do that?' he asked.

'I couldn't help it,' Skade said miserably. 'I thought you were dead. I told my father that all I wanted was for him to avenge you by killing the Brat. He said he would if I took the oath, so I did. He tricked me. I thought he would go to Alagaësia and kill the Brat, but he wouldn't. He doesn't want to leave here.'

'There wouldn't be any point in him going to Alagaësia anyway,' said Galbatorix, giving Skandar back to his mother. 'The Brat is dead.'

'You killed him?' said Skade.

'No,' said Galbatorix. 'I would have liked to, though.' He motioned for them to sit down by the fire, which they did, side-by-side. The dragon hatchlings gathered around them, all big-eyed and curious.

'Where did these come from?' Galbatorix asked, reaching out to scratch one behind the horns. The hatchling crooned contentedly at his touch, closing its silver eyes.

'These are the eggs we had in the castle,' said Skade. 'I brought them with me. And I have White Violence, too.'

Galbatorix glanced over at where the sword lay. He held out a hand and it shot toward him, hilt-first, landing neatly in his grasp. He turned the weapon over, rediscovering its silver hilt and the triple-spiral engraved on the blade. 'I thought I'd lost this forever,' he said.

'I found it in the canyon,' said Skade. 'Galbatorix… tell me everything. I want to know how you survived.'

Galbatorix nodded. 'It's a long story,' he said. 'And not a pleasant one. But I'll tell it.' He settled down comfortably by the fire, huddling into his robe for warmth, and laid White Violence down by his feet.

Skade took his hand in hers. 'I'm listening,' she told him.