Chapter Fifteen

Dark Magic and Secrets

Galbatorix's story took a long time to tell, but he told it patiently, recounting everything he remembered from the moment he had reached Orthíad and encountered Eragon and his followers for the first time. He talked of Shruikan's death, and told the unhappy tale of his wanderings in the wilderness and his struggle to find himself again. The story went on toward Dras-Leona and all that had happened there, and he described his descent into madness with a terrible matter-of-factness before praising Lifrasir and Valdyr and how they had helped him to recover. Then he talked about Saphira's death, the pact with Kullervo, the encounter with Murtagh and Thorn, the fight to reclaim Urû'baen, and finally Eragon's fate at Rangda's hands and his own escape with Nasuada. Skade sat quietly and listened to all of this with a serious expression, occasionally interrupting to ask questions. Galbatorix showed her his crippled leg and the scars on his hands and chest, and she touched these gently, as if trying to relieve him of the pain that had long since left him.

'…and I knew there was no hope of beating them, so I decided to come and find you. It's over, Skade. The Empire is out of my hands, and there's not a damn thing that anyone can do about it.'

Skade gave his hand a squeeze. 'But at least you're alive,' she said. 'And so am I. And we have Skandar.'

'Yes…' said Galbatorix, watching their son, who had fallen asleep during their talk. He frowned.

'What is it?' said Skade.

'"Born of dark king, born of dragon queen",' Galbatorix muttered.

'What does that mean?' said Skade.

'It's a line from one of the prophecies of Arthryn,' said Galbatorix. 'I never told you about this, but before we met I found the last of the dark elves. That was why Laela died. She and I rebelled against the rider elders… I told them we were going to find my father's people. And we found them. They'd survived the massacres and gone into hiding in the mountains. I spent some time with them… a month or so, maybe longer. And I met Arthryn herself.'

'Who was she?' asked Skade.

'She was my grandmother,' said Galbatorix. 'Very old, by the time I met her. She was the one who told me that it was my destiny to be King of Alagaësia one day. I committed some of her prophecies to memory… one of them was about a man who would come to Alagaësia from over the sea. "Born of dark king, born of dragon queen". I remember that line especially.'

'You think it could be about Skandar?' said Skade.

'Maybe,' said Galbatorix. 'Who knows? I've learned to distrust prophecies.'

'There's something I don't understand here,' said Skade. 'How did you survive? I just don't… how could you have walked all that way with a broken leg and a broken arm? With hardly any food and no water? And how could you have recovered so quickly? Humans are such fragile creatures… they die so easily.'

Galbatorix shrugged. 'I told you I was tough,' he said. 'I survived, Skade. The how and the why of it don't matter.' He yawned. 'I haven't… slept properly in days. Feel like my head's full of wool.'

'Lie down by the fire,' said Skade. 'I'll keep watch for you. I've got some blankets here…'

Her question forgotten, she rummaged in the bag she'd brought with her after her escape and found a number of thick woollen rugs. Galbatorix, too exhausted to be embarrassed, curled up on the leaf litter by the fire and was asleep within seconds. Skade covered him with the blankets, gently stroking his hair and watching him as he slept. He looked very vulnerable lying there.

Skade turned away to watch the trees. The mist was starting to clear now, and the sun was coming out. After a time, Lifrasir and Valdyr returned to the clearing, albeit cautiously. Finding Skade waiting for them, the two dragons hurried toward her and an awkward, hushed reunion took place among the silver trees. Skade embraced Lifrasir, wrapping her arms around the dragon's neck. 'I thought you died,' she whispered. 'In Urû'baen, I thought I heard you die.'

'It was the other dragon,' Lifrasir murmured back, grinning. 'I killed him. His rider, too. Gave you time to get away, didn't I, Mother?'

'You're a brave dragon, Lifrasir,' said Skade. 'You're as great a warrior as your grandfather.'

Lifrasir's expression darkened. 'Not that great.'

Skade turned to Valdyr, and embraced him as well, though he protested. 'And you, Valdyr… I'm so glad you escaped. Skirnir said he saw you.'

'Is he here?' Valdyr asked.

'Yes,' said Skade. 'He chose a roost at the top of the cliffs. He'll come and visit me in a few hours, most likely. He'll be so glad to know you survived.'

'He'll probably tell me off for being a coward,' said Valdyr, dipping his head slightly in embarrassment. 'I hid away in the Spine while most of the fighting was going on… Father made me do it. He said I wouldn't be able to fight properly with only one eye and he wanted me to keep safe. I felt like an overgrown hatchling.'

'He cares about you, that's all,' said Skade. 'Come on, come into my camp. Your brother is waiting for you.'

Valdyr walked beside her into the circle of firelight, and lay down on his belly on the opposite side of the fire to where Galbatorix was. Lifrasir, who just barely fitted into the clearing curled herself around it, so large that her body completely encircled the clearing, her head and tail meeting at the spot where Skade sat down. 'At least I shall keep the wind out,' the blue dragon remarked in an undertone.

Skade picked up the sleeping Skandar, and held him out for Lifrasir and Valdyr to examine. The two dragons sniffed at him, careful not to wake him up.

'He looks like you,' said Valdyr.

'Like Father, too,' said Lifrasir. 'Hard to believe he's my brother.'

'Look at his hands,' Skade whispered.

There was silence for a few seconds.

'He's got claws,' said Valdyr.

Skade nodded. 'Just like mine,' she said, flexing the fingers of her right hand. 'Half a dragon and half a human… he'll never fully belong to either, I think.'

'He's still my brother,' said Lifrasir. 'And he won't have to grow up without a father like I did.'

They both glanced over at Galbatorix. He mumbled something in his sleep, and his right hand appeared from under the blankets, the fingers uncurling to reveal the gedwëy ignaesia still standing out palely amongst raw red scars.

'He died, you know,' said Lifrasir in a low voice. 'Twice.'

'What do you mean?' said Skade, looking up at the blue dragon with a puzzled expression.

'I don't know what happened,' said Lifrasir. 'But the boy, Murtagh. He said he was sent to check after Shruikan died. To make sure Father was really dead. And he said that he was. His heart had stopped and his spine was broken, he said.'

'Well then he was lying,' said Skade.

'He looked… very sincere,' said Lifrasir. 'When he saw Father again, he looked horrified.'

'I would have been horrified, too, if someone I'd betrayed had come to find me,' said Skade.

'There's more,' said Lifrasir. 'At Urû'baen, when Rangda killed the Brat… I'm not quite sure what happened, but the Brat's mate said Father was hit by some magic intended to kill her. He threw himself in the way to save her. After I had carried them out of there, the Brat's mate felt for a heartbeat and said there wasn't one. He was dead. I could smell death on him. And then…' Lifrasir watched her father with a trouble expression. '…and then he woke up.'

'It must have been a mistake,' said Skade. But she too looked frightened.

'One mistake, maybe,' said Lifrasir. 'But two? I asked him about it, and… he's hiding something. I don't know what it could be, but…'

Skade's eyes narrowed. 'I thought it was odd that he recovered so quickly after what happened at Orthíad.'

'He was up and about and ready to fight two weeks after nearly dying at Dras-Leona,' said Lifrasir. 'I saw him right after what happened there. He had so many arrows in him he looked like a hedgehog. But he shrugged it off as if it were no more than a few scratches.'

'If he's hiding something, I'll make him tell me the truth,' said Skade. 'I'm not going to let him lie to me.'

Lifrasir couldn't help but be amused. 'I wouldn't want to be in his place when he wakes up.'

Galbatorix slept for an hour or so, but his subconscious was too unsettled to let him sleep longer. He stirred restlessly, disturbed by half-formed dreams, his lame leg twinging in the cold air. Eventually he opened his eyes and saw Skade looking down at him.

He smiled. 'Who are you?' he said. 'You're beautiful.'

Skade was bewildered for a moment, but then she realised that it was what he had said to her when they first met. She smiled. 'I'm Skade,' she said. 'How do you feel?'

'I feel weak,' said Galbatorix, sitting up. 'But I'm feeling better now.'

They smiled into each other's eyes.

'I still remember that day,' said Galbatorix. 'So clearly it might have been yesterday. I remember when I first saw you… I woke up and there you were, and I wondered if I had died and if you were some spirit welcoming me into the afterlife. I fell in love with you right there and then, you know.'

'I remember thinking you looked so small,' said Skade. 'I thought you looked young and weak… like a child. But then I saw your eyes when you woke up.'

'And…?'

'And I knew where your strength really was,' said Skade. 'Inside, which is where it counts.'

'And I remember, later on, you said… you said how miserable you were. "I'm ugly", you said. And then I said…'

'…"to me you're beautiful",' Skade recalled.

'"To me you're the most beautiful thing in the world",' said Galbatorix. 'Yes. That's what I said. I thought it was the most romantic thing anyone could ever say. But I was just a boy then, wasn't I?'

'I was hardly more than a hatchling either,' said Skade. 'Just a lost soul.'

'Like me,' said Galbatorix. 'Two lost souls. But we found each other, didn't we? Not a day goes by that I don't feel grateful for that. You saved me then. Saved what was inside me, which is where it counts.'

'We saved each other,' said Skade, her golden eyes warm in a way they never were except when they looked at him.

'Yes…' Galbatorix stood up and dusted the leaves off his robe. He looked around. The mist had cleared by this time, save for a few wisps that still lay over the ground. Lifrasir had curled herself right around the edge of the camp and was sound asleep. Valdyr was nowhere to be seen, and three of the hatchlings were gone. Two remained, snuggled up beside Skandar, who was stripping the leaves off a twig with a determined expression on his face.

'Galbatorix?' said Skade.

'Yes?' said Galbatorix.

'There's something I want to ask you,' said Skade.

'Yes?' said Galbatorix again. His voice was resigned. He had suspected that this was going to happen eventually.

'How did you survive?' said Skade. 'Tell me the truth. No-one could have survived all those injuries. Lifrasir told me you died twice back there… but here you are, alive and talking to me. How did it happen? I know you're hiding something.' She looked at him, challenging him with her eyes.

Galbatorix sighed. 'I never could fool you, could I?'

'No,' Skade answered simply. 'Sit down, Galbatorix, and tell me.'

Galbatorix watched her for a time, not moving. She stared back expectantly, and after a few tense moments had passed he sat down beside her on a log, his head in his hands. Skade shuffled closer to him, her eyes never leaving his face. 'Tell me,' she said again.

There was silence again, and the wind sighed among the trees, their leaves making a soft rushing sound like the sea.

'It's been so long,' Galbatorix said at last. 'We fought so… the war never seemed about to end. For a while I could hardly believe that someone like the Brat would think himself strong enough to challenge me, but I'll give him this; he was a determined enemy and a good fighter, in his own way. But he never earned my respect. I could never accept how much he hated the Empire, how dead-set he was on destroying it. And now he's gone. Just like that. After all those years of fighting, I saw him snuffed out before my eyes. By Rangda, of all people. A lovesick Shade was the one who finally killed him. I can't say I'll miss him; the boy was an idiot. And he nearly killed us both.'

'I hated him,' said Skade. 'After he tortured you, I vowed to kill him.'

'We both made that vow,' said Galbatorix. 'And now neither of us will get the chance to fulfil it. I suppose it doesn't really matter in the end. The Brat is gone, and good riddance to him. I kept hoping he would learn better than to be so narrow-minded, but he never did. He never rose above it. He went on believing all those lies; he just wouldn't see that maybe the old riders weren't the godlike creatures he saw them as. I tried to convince him otherwise, but he wouldn't listen. And why should he have? Why should anyone listen to me?'

'You're wiser than he was,' said Skade. 'Wiser than most mortals could ever be.'

Galbatorix shook his head. 'I can't help but feel like it was my fault, what happened to him. Like there was something I could have done to save him. Or like it was my fault that… well, it is my fault, isn't it? All of it. The Brat was right, Skade, and that's what I can't ever forget. He was right about me. He always was. Everyone who ever hated me was right. I am a monster. I was born one, I'll die one, and there was never anything I could have done to change that. But I tried.'

'You're not a monster,' Skade said sharply. She hadn't missed the tone of quiet despair in Galbatorix's voice. 'Never say that,' she told him. 'Never.'

'But it's true,' said Galbatorix. He bowed his head, his dark hair falling down over his face in soft waves. 'What I did… the crimes I committed… they weren't the actions of the just and noble leader I claimed to be. They were evil. And they can never be undone.'

'You killed the riders,' said Skade. 'That wasn't evil. Many people kill. It was war; people die in war. It's inevitable.'

'No,' said Galbatorix, not looking her in the eye. 'It's not that simple. I didn't just kill the riders, Skade, no. What I did was far worse.'

'Worse?' said Skade, uncertain for the first time.

'This won't be easy for you to hear,' said Galbatorix. 'It won't be easy for me to say, either. But I can't lie to you, Skade. Your trust means everything to me. But what I'm about to tell you is one of my deepest secrets. Even Shruikan never knew. Everyone who knew about it is dead now, except for me. The last one left alive. I'm a survivor. Always have been.' He laughed bitterly.

Skade took his hand, and listened.

'It was after you left,' said Galbatorix. 'You see… back then I had lost everything. My parents. My friends. Laela, my dragon… I had seen her die. Felt her die.' He touched a hand to his chest, where the pain had once torn into his very soul. 'I had been betrayed by people I trusted – everyone I trusted. I had seen the last of my father's people wiped out by riders – riders who I had thought were the guardians of peace and justice in Alagaësia. I saw all that happen. And then I lost you too, and I didn't know if I would ever see you again. I was utterly alone. And I was afraid. I didn't want to die. All I had left to live for was revenge, but I was obsessed by the idea that the riders wouldn't take the last thing I had left in the world – my own life. During the time I spent with the dark elves, I learned a lot about their ways. They taught me about their magic – a kind of magic which no-one left in Alagaësia knows how to use but me. They taught me magic that didn't rely on the ancient language – spells that can do things no-one else has ever conceived of. And even if I revealed them to someone else they wouldn't be any use to them. I have the mental abilities of the dark elves, inherited from my father, and only someone with those abilities can use dark elvish magic. And the most powerful spell that I learnt from them was one that would grant its user full immortality. What the riders and the elves have is only partial immortality – they can live forever, but they can still die. They're still vulnerable. And human riders still age. They go grey and wrinkled, they weaken. But full immortality means becoming ageless, invulnerable. Nothing can kill someone who has full immortality. Their injuries heal instantly, poison has no effect on them, they can live for years without any food or drink. But the spell that could grant those powers had never been completed; the energy needed for it was phenomenal. Not even Shades could do it. The spell had to be spoken by the one who wanted to cast it on himself, but in order to complete it he had to be fed a continual supply of energy from at least ten other magic-users. But the spell needed one other thing.'

Galbatorix paused, closing his eyes and becoming very still.

'Sacrifices,' he said in a low voice. 'The spell needed the lives of a number of powerful beings. It would suck the life out of them and place it in the caster's body. They would die in agony so that one person could achieve full immortality. That was the price, and I knew full well what it meant. But after I had gathered followers and the war began, I gave orders to them to try and capture as many of our enemy riders as they could. By the time we had taken Ilirea, we had about a dozen of them in captivity. And we caught the elders off-guard in the city, and took several of them prisoner as well, although Vrael escaped. One of the elders we caught was Oromis – the one who suggested turning you into an elf as punishment. I remember thinking you'd be pleased that I had him. His dragon, Glaedr, though… he got away. That night, after Ilirea fell, we gathered in the elders' chamber – the same one where you and I were condemned. And we performed the spell there and then. We formed a circle… I stood in the middle, the Forsworn made a ring around me, and behind them were the captured riders and their dragons, all in chains. And it was all ready then. I was ready. I had sent Shruikan away, told him to keep watch for any signs of danger. I wanted him to be safe, so I blocked him out of my mind. So that if anything happened to me, he wouldn't be affected. I'd already lost Laela, I didn't want to lose him too. It was a full moon that night, I remember. We waited until it rose. The dark elves worshipped the moon, you know.'

Skade could see he was avoiding telling the rest of the story. She had pulled away from him slightly without realising it, and waited in silence for him to go on. She could see how much of a struggle this was for him.

'I recited the words of the spell,' said Galbatorix. 'I still remember them today. Rischta, caarna, fedua, zethounis Lona… after that it was just a matter of waiting, concentrating, letting the power be channelled into me by my followers. But I never told them… they didn't know exactly what it was they were doing. They knew they were supposed to draw energy from the prisoners, but they didn't know that it would kill them. And once the spell had begun they – we were all caught up in it. It couldn't be stopped and no-one could withdraw. It kept us trapped until the spell was completed. I remember I stood there… I could feel the energy pouring into me. It was so… I felt like a god. Like I could move mountains with my bare hands or break the world into pieces. I've never felt so… so invincible in my life. But I could hear what was going on around me. I could hear the prisoners screaming, in my head and outside it. Horrible screams. Like they were being burned alive. I can only imagine what it must feel like, to have the life just… drained out of you like that. Some of those riders had been my friends. I'd fought side-by-side with some of them, feasted with them, flown beside them when Laela was still alive. When I was sentenced to die for learning from the dark elves, some of them pleaded for me to be released. That was when I really realised what I was doing, and if I could have stopped it then, I would have. But it was too late. All I could do was stand there and listen to them die. Some of them called out my name as they died. Cursed me with their last breaths. Called me a monster. But the spell was never completed. It was very close to it. But that was when Glaedr returned. He came back to save his rider. Smashed straight through the wall of the chamber, just like your father did in Farthen Dûr. He carried Oromis away, and that broke the circle. Half of the Forsworn died on the spot. And the prisoners… none of them survived. The shock killed every single one of them. Normally I would have died too, but with so much energy in me I was protected. I survived. But none of us were ever the same again. The Forsworn were furious with me for not telling them the whole truth. They only stayed loyal because they had taken oaths in the ancient language. Several of them committed suicide within a few years. They couldn't bear the guilt. Morzan took to drink, and he wasn't the only one. As for me… I was left to live with the shame of what I had done. After I killed Vrael and Alagaësia fell into chaos, I began to realise what was happening. What I had become. I saw that I was worse than the riders I swore to destroy. A hundred times worse. I nearly killed myself then. But I didn't. I found the strength to go on living. And I built the Empire and vowed that I would do all I could to bring peace and equality to Alagaësia. And I did, as far as I could, for a long time. It wasn't a happy life. All alone in Urû'baen, weighed down by responsibilities, hated by every race in the land. Waiting for you to come back. And when you did, I felt as if I had been reborn. That was when I could finally put my past behind me. Or thought I could.'

Galbatorix fell silent.

'The spell,' said Skade. 'What did it…?'

'The spell was incomplete,' Galbatorix said shortly. 'I never did become fully immortal. But after that day, I never aged physically beyond twenty-five. I stayed young while everyone else aged and died. And I could still be hurt by weapons. But I've taken several injuries that should have been fatal and haven't died. When I got cut and scratched and they didn't heal before my eyes, I assumed that the part of the spell that granted invulnerability hadn't worked. But one day an assassin was sent after me. He caught me off-guard – put a dagger straight through my heart. He got away, so I never found out who sent him. But a few hours later I woke up where I'd fallen with nothing more than a flesh wound. I don't know if I can be killed. I'm not immune to injuries, but I'm much harder to kill than I should be. That's how I survived, Skade. That's how I came to be here talking to you when I should be dead and buried. I suppose it explains why I'm so reckless sometimes. The Brat could never have killed me; he didn't have a chance in hell.'

Silence followed Galbatorix's story; tense, unhappy silence.

'Why didn't you tell me?' Skade asked.

Galbatorix looked up at her, having avoided doing so since beginning his tale. 'I was afraid that, if I did, you'd turn away,' he said. 'And I couldn't bear the thought of losing you like that. You, the only one who ever truly loved me. When you're… as hated as I am, you learn to value that.'

He stood up, suddenly looking a lot smaller than before.

'I can understand if you don't want to see me any more,' he said. 'Truly. I'll leave you now. I don't think… I don't think I shall live much longer anyway.'

He turned and walked out of the clearing with slow, heavy footsteps.