Chapter Twenty-Two

Prophecy Fulfilled

As Galbatorix, Skade and Nasuada were marched through the city at sword-point, they could see how much it had changed. The houses and other buildings were the same ones that had stood there ten years before, now repaired after Eragon's attack on it, but they were the only thing that remained the same. Now the streets were dank and depressing, not dirty but unnaturally and lifelessly clean. Almost sterile. As if they were no longer the dwellings of human beings. There were a few people here and there, hunched in doorways and on benches, but all of them looked ill and dispirited. They watched the prisoners pass with dull, disinterested eyes.

The castle loomed ahead. It looked little different, but now the shadow hung over it, despoiling it. Galbatorix felt his heart sink at the sight of it. His home, defiled… for some reason, seeing it like this really brought home to him just how much things had changed.

They were taken through the castle doors and up a flight of stairs, and on toward what had once been the throne room. They were shoved through the doors, and there it all was.

Durza was sitting on the throne that had once belonged to Galbatorix. It was carved from black marble and decorated with images of dragons and other fierce creatures. Durza slouched on it with a kind of insolent casualness, one long leg hanging over an armrest. Of course he still looked like Eragon, but he had changed. He'd grown his hair long and was clad in black and red silk, and he was deathly pale and almost fleshlessly thin. The blue sword Íssbrandr was hanging from the back of the throne in its sheath. Nasuada let out a great sob at the sight of him.

Behind the throne, however, was something far more awful. It was the source of the cloud of magic: a solid column of pure energy, shooting up from the floor and up through the ceiling. It was black and grey, with patterns of red and green writhing through it, and it filled the air with a soft rush and hiss, as of water or fire. This was the centre of Durza's power. Into it, Galbatorix knew, helpless prisoners had been thrown at the Shade's command.

He didn't hesitate. He took in this sight, and then strode forward, doing his best to hide his limp. He shoved the guards out of his way without any sign of fear, and confronted Durza. The ropes around his wrists snapped when he pulled at them with one quick movement, and he folded his arms and fixed the Shade with his most powerful stare. 'Well, Durza. Are you surprised to see me?'

Durza regarded him. 'I must admit that I am,' he said. 'You have, after all, been gone for ten years. Where did you go, may I ask?'

'A long way,' said Galbatorix. 'But now I have come back. Durza, you betrayed me. This land belongs to me, but you dared to steal it from me.'

Durza shrugged elegantly. 'We take what we can, you and I. Unfortunately for you, I outwitted you and now the Empire is mine. So it goes.'

'You swore to serve me,' said Galbatorix. 'You swore it in the ancient language. Not even you can break an oath like that. You swore to serve me for the rest of your life.'

'And then I died,' said Durza. 'The boy killed me at Farthen Dûr. My oath was fulfilled. Now tell me, why have you come here?'

'To make you an offer,' said Galbatorix.

Durza sneered. 'There is no offer you can make me that I would take. Not unless you can give Rangda back to me.'

'Rangda is dead,' said Galbatorix. 'You have a new Shadeslayer now. But I have come for the other.'

'The boy?' said Durza. 'You've come for him?'

Galbatorix nodded. 'I've come to set him free.'

Durza laughed out loud; a short, cold laugh. 'The Mad King, they called you. You're no King now, but you're still mad. What do you care for the boy?'

'He has been punished enough,' said Galbatorix. 'He has a beloved who wants him back, and I promised her I would do it. Leave him, Durza. Let him go.'

'But why?' said Durza. 'You cannot expect me to believe you care about him.'

'The riders must come back. The boy was a rider, and I… I have killed too many riders. If I can undo some of my old crimes by giving him his life back, I will. Let him go, Durza. He's nothing to you.'

'And what will you offer me in return?' said Durza.

Galbatorix looked him in the eye. 'Me.'

Durza blinked, seemingly for the first time. 'You cannot mean…'

Galbatorix nodded. 'If you let the boy go, you can have me. Take my body for your own and let him go.'

'NO!' Skade screamed. She fought to get to him. 'No, Galbatorix! Don't do it!'

He glanced at her. 'I have to,' he said. To Durza he said; 'This body of mine would be a powerful host for you. You know what it can do. You know the power in my blood. Power no-one else has. Not even you.'

Durza was looking at him with an expression of complete incredulity. 'You would honestly do that? You would sacrifice yourself, for him?'

'Yes,' said Galbatorix.

'Let us speak in the ancient language,' said Durza. 'I will not let you lie to me as you did to so many others, Silvertongue.'

'As you wish,' said Galbatorix, now using the old tongue.

'I don't believe you,' Durza said bluntly. 'You value your life far too highly to simply throw it away like this. You always have. Now tell me the truth. Why do you want to do this?'

'Because I have nothing left to live for,' said Galbatorix. 'I've lost everything I had. The Empire. Shruikan. My son is dead.'

'But what about her?' said Durza, pointing at Skade.

'Her?' Galbatorix said dismissively. 'She's nothing to me. Merely a means to an end. I wanted an heir and she provided one. You can kill her now for all I care.'

Skade, held back by the guards, heard every word. She felt as if she had been stabbed through the heart. She stared at Galbatorix, utterly shocked. It couldn't be true, it had to be a lie… but he had used the ancient language. She began to cry.

'I only have one thing left to live for,' Galbatorix went on, ignoring her. 'I want to make amends for what I did. I can't bear to live with the guilt any longer. Take me, Durza. Let me die so the boy can live.'

Durza hesitated. 'This is… not possible.'

'Look at me,' said Galbatorix. 'Look at me, Durza, and see.'

Durza looked, and he saw. Saw how frail his former master looked. Saw the greying hair and the ragged robe, the pale face and hollow eyes.

He laughed. 'You're pathetic, half-breed. Pathetic. Look at you. You can hardly stand. And to think I used to be afraid of you.'

Galbatorix looked at him steadily. 'You see now? I'm done for, Durza. I'm dying. This is my last deed in life, and let it be a noble one.'

Durza laughed again. 'Very well,' he said. 'I accept your offer. I think your mind will be a much more interesting one than this fool's. Now come forward and open your mind to me. Guards… you are dismissed.'

The guards departed, leaving Skade and Nasuada behind.

Galbatorix walked toward Durza's throne, making no effort to hide the limp now. Let the Shade see it. Let them all see it. This was it.

Durza sat up straight on the throne. 'Kneel,' he said.

Galbatorix knelt, and Durza placed a thin, pale hand on his forehead. 'Humans are all the same,' he sneered. 'Honour and justice, oh dear me. I'm glad that I will be the one to finally kill the man said to be unkillable.'

Galbatorix looked up at him. 'Get it over with, you imbecile,' he said, and opened his mind to the Shade.

Durza entered his mind, and Galbatorix shuddered as he felt the cold needle into him. It spread through his body in an icy torrent, numbing his senses. He gasped and began to shake. It would all be over soon.

From somewhere far, far away, he heard Skade scream his name. But he could not answer.

Skade looked on helplessly, able to do nothing but see it all happen. See her beloved shake all over, his head bowed and an expression of agony contorting his face. See Durza sit there on his stolen throne, his eyes closed in concentration.

And then it happened. The red faded from Durza's hair, and it slowly changed back to brown. The tattoos on the forehead disappeared. His eyes blinked open, and maroon became intense dark brown.

Eragon screamed and staggered backward, falling limply onto the throne. Then Galbatorix screamed too. He put his hands over his face, pulling at the skin as if trying to tear it off, and reeled away from the throne, flailing desperately. He staggered toward the wall, and hit it, hard, nearly collapsing. Strange sounds escaped from his throat, as if he were being strangled. He took several wobbly steps toward Skade, and fell at her feet, grabbing hold of her gown as he did so. She seized his wrists, looking down at him in terror.

His eyes snapped open, and they were no longer black. They had turned the colour of blood.

Skade tried to pull him off her, but he wouldn't let go. He stared at her with a blind, pleading look in those ghastly eyes.

'Galbatorix,' she whispered. 'Oh gods, no, what have you done…'

He blinked, just once, and focused on her. She saw him mouthing desperately, trying to speak, but not a sound escaped him. His bloody eyes glistened, and two large, weeping tears slid down his cheeks as he gasped for air.

He let go of Skade's gown with a sudden motion, and then fell to the floor, convulsing horribly and tearing at his robe.

Nasuada looked on in horror, but then looked at the throne. Eragon was there, sprawled over it, and she ran to him and touched his cheek. It was warm. His eyes opened slowly, and he looked up at her. 'Nasuada…' he whispered.

'Eragon,' said Nasuada. She lifted him into her arms and hugged him tightly, tears streaming down her face.

And still Galbatorix twitched, still he struggled. Skade knelt by him and tried to hold him still, calling his name.

And then, quite suddenly, he stopped moving. He lay on his back, his chest heaving and fists clenched, his crow-black hair lying over the floor. Black… Skade touched it, suddenly confused. Black, it was black…

Galbatorix's eyes opened. He pulled himself upright with a strength that astonished her, and stood there, looking around with a slightly bemused expression. He looked at his hands, then patted himself down as if checking he was all still there. Then he examined his hair, pulling a lock of it around so that he could inspect it. He sighed, and then looked at Skade. She looked back silently, her mind frozen in horror. He was not Galbatorix any more. He was Durza, standing there in her beloved's body. She had lost him forever.

Galbatorix looked at her, not hostile but oddly thoughtful. Then he turned away and strode back toward the throne. Nasuada was there, holding onto Eragon, who was looking weak and bewildered. But he was alive.

The boy looked up in time to see a familiar figure approach. Nasuada screamed and tried to drag Eragon away, but the horrible figure of the possessed Galbatorix shoved her aside with ease and pulled Íssbrandr out of its sheath, holding it loosely in one hand. He stood over the helpless Eragon, looking at him with burning hatred. 'Eragon Shadeslayer,' he intoned. 'Eragon the Brat… do you know who I am?'

'Galbatorix,' Eragon spat.

Galbatorix grinned horribly. 'Good,' he said, and stabbed Eragon through the stomach.

'Eragon!' Nasuada screamed. She rushed at Galbatorix, heedless of her own safety, but a hard blow to the chin knocked her down.

Eragon slid off the throne and onto the floor, writhing and screaming. Blood poured from his stomach, welling up between his fingers and making his hands sticky with it. His legs kicked and scrabbled at the floor like those of a dying rabbit. 'Oh gods no!' he screamed, again and again. 'No! Please no! I don't want to die!'

Galbatorix stood over him, watching him with a cold, dispassionate eye. 'No-one cares, Brat,' he said. 'No-one cares. No-one ever cared. Live in lies, die by a lie. I warned you once. Warned you of the consequences. But you wouldn't listen, you arrogant, self-centred repulsive child. You think the world revolves around you? Think it cares about what you do? Well guess what… you were wrong. It took a long time, but now I have my revenge. Goodbye, Eragon Shadeslayer.'

Eragon's struggles slowly lessened as his blood pooled on the floor beneath him. He slowly went limp, his eyes glazing over, his hands falling to his sides, the fingers uncurling to reveal the gedwëy ignaesia. Only a shadow of glory. Never anything more.

Galbatorix, watching him, lost a little of his cold rage. He knelt by the dying boy, and whispered something in his ear.

Nasuada came to crouch by his side, and this time Galbatorix made no move to stop her. She held Eragon's bloodied hand. 'Eragon… no.'

Eragon looked at her. 'I… didn't want…' he whispered. '…Nasuada…'

And then it was all over. Eragon Shadeslayer, son of Brom, was dead.

Galbatorix turned away contemptuously, closing his ears to Nasuada's sobs. He walked toward Skade instead.

The silver elf watched him coming with a hopeless expression. This was it. She was going to die at her own beloved's hands. 'You betrayed us,' she said, not knowing whether the true Galbatorix would be able to hear her.

Galbatorix stopped in front of her. 'Are you all right?' he asked.

Skade blinked. That voice…

He saw her expression, and touched his face. 'How do I look? Do I look any different?'

Skade looked at him, and saw something that made her heart skip a beat.

There were no tattoos on his face. His hair and beard were still black. But his eyes…

One eye was the glittering black she remembered. The other remained red.

'Galbatorix?' she said.

He grinned at her. 'Yes, Skade?'

'Galbatorix, is that you?' said Skade. 'Is it you in there?'

Galbatorix nodded. 'Yes, it's me, Skade.'

'But your eyes…'

He looked nervous. 'What about them?'

'One of them is red,' said Skade. 'The left one.'

Galbatorix touched it. 'Oh dear. I didn't think that would happen. Just a side-effect, I suppose.'

'Galbatorix, what happened?' Skade demanded. 'Where's Durza?'

Galbatorix rubbed his forehead. 'Durza is dead. The arrogant fool deserved it.'

'Dead? But… he took your body, and…'

'He thought he was going to,' said Galbatorix. 'That's the thing about Shades. They only think about power. I offered him something he wanted, and he just couldn't resist. It blinded him to everything else. He fell for it hook, line and sinker. Me, give him my body to play around with? Hah! Not likely.'

'But how?' said Skade, still not quite believing it was him.

'I'm a dark elf,' said Galbatorix. 'Or half of one. Our mental powers are very strong. Strong enough to overcome a Shade's essence. It took a while to fight him off, but I managed it in the end. He wanted to absorb my mind… I absorbed his. I've got all his memories. His powers, too.'

It was him. Skade knew it was him. The voice, the face, it was all there, all unchanged. Only the eye had changed. 'Oh, Galbatorix!' she cried. 'I thought – but you said – you didn't care for me, and…'

'Oh, Skade, you're not stupid enough to think that was true, are you? It was a lie.'

Skade only held back a second longer. She practically threw herself into his arms. He hugged her tightly and kissed her on the forehead. 'I'm sorry about all that, Skade,' he murmured. 'It was so hard… but I couldn't tell you what I was going to do. If you'd known, Durza could have suspected something from your reactions. Lying to a Shade is very hard.'

They parted reluctantly, and looked toward the throne. Eragon lay dead, Nasuada hunched over him and sobbing brokenly.

'You killed him,' Skade said softly.

'Yes,' said Galbatorix.

Nasuada looked up, her pretty face twisted with pain. 'You killed him!' she screamed, pointing accusingly at him. 'You lied!'

Galbatorix pulled a scrap of cloth from his pocket and began wiping the swordblade clean. 'So it would appear, yes.'

'But you took an oath!' said Nasuada. 'You swore it on your honour as a rider!'

Galbatorix limped forward until he was standing over Eragon's body, Skade by his side. 'You forgot something important,' he said. 'I'm not a rider any more… thanks to the Brat. And I have no honour. I'm the Great Betrayer. No-one can trust me.'

'But you said it in the ancient language!' said Nasuada.

Galbatorix pointed the sword at Eragon's body. 'He was right about me,' he said. 'He was an idiot, but he was right. I can lie in the ancient language. If I have to. Anyway… I set him free, didn't I? Just as I promised.'

'You killed-,'

'I never promised I wouldn't kill him afterwards. I told you I came here for revenge… now, I've had it. The Brat is dead.

Nasuada broke down. 'You lied… you liar…'

'I'm a bastard,' said Galbatorix. 'Lying comes naturally to me. Bastards are born deceitful. Forget him, Nasuada,' he added more kindly. 'He was worthless. All the terrible things that have happened over the last ten years… they were his fault. I tried to keep stability. He destroyed it. His arrogance undid everything I worked for a hundred years to bring about. For that I could never forgive him. He was never the one to bring back the riders. I am.'

He walked past her, past the throne, dropping the sword, he limped toward the great column of magic. For a few moments he paused there, watching it rush and swirl, its light playing over his face.

'Use me one last time and be done with it,' he said, and thrust his hand into the maelstrom.

At once he went rigid. The white light appeared once more, all around his skin, hair and clothes, brighter and brighter until Galbatorix Taranisäii was transformed, his dark shape becoming one of pure light.

Light which spread into the column of dark controlling magic, spreading through it like clouds over the sky, more and more of it, pouring out of him in an endless flow. The blackness turned to grey, and then flashed into pure white. Skade and Nasuada, looking on in wonder, saw the shapes moving through it. Some human, some elf… some dragon.

Wings and talons and hands appeared, flickering through the great rush of magic, eyes blinked and were gone, and up and up it all went, through the roof and out into the sky above, banishing the darkness. Through the land it went, out to touch both man and dragon with its healing warmth.

Once it was all over, and the light around him died, Galbatorix withdrew his arm and toppled backward like a falling tree.

Skade ran to him, lifting him back to his feet. He was frighteningly light in her arms, as if there was hardly anything left of him. 'It's done,' he murmured feverishly. 'It's done, Skade. The ancient magic is remade. The riders can return. It's over, now, let me go, let me rest…'