Chapter Twenty-Eight

Journeys End

Kullervo had disappeared from his room. Skade knew it before she opened the door. The window was broken, and when she looked out through it she couldn't see any sign of him. But it was easy to see how he must have jumped onto the low roof of the next building beside the castle and from there made his getaway.

The silver elf sighed. 'Good luck, brother.'

Perhaps he would find what he was after. She could only hope.

And Galbatorix finally got his way. He led the new riders out of the city to where Ravana waited, and there they knelt to him and swore to serve him all their days. The new order had been born, and King Ravana had come into his power.

And then there was nothing else left to do. Galbatorix packed a bag with clothes – a selection of new robes which the one-eyed tailor had made for him, and a number of gowns for Skade – and another with equipment – pots and pans, dried rations, ropes, hairbrushes and other things. As he worked, he felt a wonderful lightness in his heart. For the first time in a hundred years, he had nothing to do except for himself, Skade and Laela. There was no Empire to rule, no war to fight, no people to save… he was free.

To his surprise, he found himself humming a tune as he worked. That was something he hadn't done in over a century. He felt like a boy again.

The feeling had got into Skade, too. She helped him pack, her movements quick and graceful, and there was a brightness in her eyes and a lightness to her laugh, and the two of them giggled and teased each other like a young couple newly in love as they prepared to leave their old life behind forever, while Laela flew over the castle, looping and diving, singing her lilting song. The war was over.

There was only one person in the city who was unhappy, and that was Angela. She paced back and forth in her cell, trying not to shiver in fear, tormented by uncertainty.

That evening, Galbatorix himself came to see her. He appeared on the other side of her cell door, eerily silent as always, like a giant cat in the gloom.

Angela stopped her pacing and faced him. 'There you are,' she said. 'What's going on? What's going to happen to me?'

'I know what you did,' he said quietly.

'I healed you,' said Angela. 'I saved your life in Furnost.'

'Do you know the story of the black dragon?' Galbatorix asked, ignoring her.

Angela said nothing.

'I think you do. The dragon who flew in the storm. The one they called the Night Dragon. I know his story – you told it to me. That day in Teirm, so long ago. When you told me I would become the most hated man in Alagaësia. That was you, wasn't it?'

She nodded. 'I saw it. Saw terrible things in your future.'

'You know what?' said Galbatorix. 'You were right. But I'm curious. Just who are you? You're an immortal, that's obvious, but you're not a rider. Where did you come from?'

Angela hesitated. 'I was… I was raised by the werecats,' she said. 'I was an orphan. They made me an immortal like themselves, and when I grew up I wanted to look for other humans… Solembum was my adopted brother, and he went with me.'

'Where is he now?'

'He's dead,' Angela whispered. 'The Shades killed him.'

'I'm sorry for that.'

'Don't be,' said Angela, looking away. 'It wasn't your fault.'

'But you're a lot older than you look,' said Galbatorix. 'Older than me.'

Angela was silent again.

'You were there, weren't you?' Galbatorix said softly. 'When the Night Dragon and his mate destroyed Teirm. You were one of the ones who stole their eggs. You, and Eragon, and Solembum. You were the ones.'

'Yes,' said Angela. 'I was there. He destroyed my home.'

'So you stole his children from him.'

'I did.'

'He's here,' Galbatorix said quietly. 'The Night Dragon. He's returned to Alagaësia.'

Angela's eyes widened. 'No!'

'Yes. Ravana, the black dragon, lord of the land over the sea… he's King of Alagaësia now. The new riders have come, and he is their master. And when I tell him who you are, what you did to him… he'll tear this castle down to get at you.'

'No!' Angela cried. 'Please, gods, no!'

'He missed his children all his life,' said Galbatorix, unmoved. 'But it was punishment, wasn't it? He destroyed your home, so you punished him. And then his mate died, and he lost everything… he and I have a lot in common, really. Both of us are heartless bastards. And I must do justice before I leave here. You worked for the Varden. You betrayed me.'

'I saved your life,' said Angela.

'Even so. Tell me… have you ever loved someone? Truly and deeply, with all your heart?'

Angela stared at him. 'Why-?'

'Just tell me.'

'I did once, yes. Long ago. But…'

'What was his name?'

'He didn't love me,' said Angela. 'He betrayed me.'

'But do you still love him? And would you still go after him if you had the chance?'

'Yes. I would do that.'

'Then you still have something to live for,' said Galbatorix.

'No I don't!' Angela cried. 'Solembum is dead, Eragon is dead, and soon I'll be dead too. What do you want from me?'

'Tell me your beloved's name,' said Galbatorix.

'Faegareth,' Angela whispered. 'His name was Faegareth.'

Galbatorix smiled slyly. 'I knew it.'

'How? Why?'

'He told me.'

Angela didn't understand. 'But… how? When?'

'I met him once. Angela, do you know where to find him?'

She hesitated. 'I… there are… I have an idea.'

Galbatorix opened the cell door. 'Come with me.'

He led her through a series of dark tunnels under the city, that twisted and turned until she lost all sense of direction, and finally to a small door. They passed through it and into the light of a glorious sunset, in the middle of a forest. Angela stepped out onto soft grass, blinking in the light. 'Where are we?'

'Well away from the city. Here.' Galbatorix gave her a bag. 'Some supplies for you. Now, listen carefully. Somewhere in this forest there's a man. His name is Kullervo, and he has orange hair and golden eyes. Find him. He won't want you with him. Force him to accept you. Follow him until he gives in, if you have to. He needs to be looked after. Help him to find Faegareth.'

Angela took the bag and slung it on her back. 'But why? And why are you letting me go?'

He smiled at her. 'You were the one who found the cure for the plague. You saved my life. Now, go. And good luck.'

Angela touched his cheek. 'Thankyou,' she said. Then she turned and was gone, walking away through the trees and losing herself in the gathering night.

On the following morning, Galbatorix and Skade said farewell to Ravana on the open ground outside the city gates. The giant dragon sat there, noble and dignified with his black scales gleaming in the sunlight, and brought his nose down to touch his daughter. Skade caressed his huge, scarred face, feeling the roughness of his scales under her fingers. 'Goodbye, Father,' she murmured. 'I'll miss you.'

'And I you,' said Ravana. 'I am proud of you, Skade. You were the strongest of my children, and you have faced all the challenges of your life with strength and courage. Elf or dragon… you are my daughter and always shall be, and let my strength and my love go with you.'

He brought his head around to look at Galbatorix, who bowed low to him, the giant dragon's hot breath ruffling his hair. 'Care for my daughter, human, and for my grandson. I have entrusted her to you, as she entrusted you with her heart. You are brave, and your spirit is that of a dragon, human though you be.'

'Thankyou, Sire,' Galbatorix murmured.

'And you…' said Ravana, looking at Laela. 'Little snow-dragon. Honour your kind. Fight for those you love, kill your enemies without mercy, have no fear of death. That is our code and always shall be.'

Laela bowed her head. 'I shall, my Lord,' she said, without a trace of her usual mockery.

The rest of Ravana's clan was there too. Skirnir, Lifrasir, Balisong, Katana, Skömm, Dreyri and Valdyr, standing in a great circle in the snow around Ravana like an honour guard. They came forward, one by one, to say farewell.

'I'll miss you, Father,' said Skirnir. 'And you, Mother.'

'Brave Skirnir,' Skade murmured, touching his snout. 'You'll look after your children, won't you?'

He winked at her, a gesture he'd picked up from spending time around humans. 'I doubt they'll need it, but I will.' He glanced at Ravana and added mentally, 'He's the one who really needs looking after.'

'Every King needs someone to support him,' said Skade. 'But you know that, don't you, Skirnir?'

'I do.'

Lifrasir was sorrowful. 'I don't want you to go,' she said.

'We'll be fine,' Galbatorix assured her. 'We'll have Laela to look after us.'

Laela rolled her eyes. 'When he gets into trouble, I'll drag him out again. I promise.'

'Well… be careful,' said Lifrasir. 'Please.'

'We will be,' said Skade. 'And we'll come back and visit you. What are you going to do with yourself while we're gone?'

Lifrasir scratched her snout. 'Well… I was thinking of going to the Spine and finding a mate. A hundred years old is a little late to start a family, but… well, I would like some hatchlings of my own.'

Skade smiled. 'Do it, Lifrasir. You'd be a wonderful mother.'

Galbatorix nodded. 'After all… you looked after me, didn't you?'

'Of course I did,' said Lifrasir. 'You're my father.'

He grinned. 'I'd advise against telling anyone else that.'

Valdyr was more cheerful. 'I'm going to help Thorn teach the hatchlings how to fight. And Skömm's going to help too, aren't you, Skömm?'

Skömm was looking rather anxious. 'Yes, yes, of course. I'm sorry, Mother… I can't find her.'

'Find who?' said Galbatorix.

'The silver hatchling, the one who didn't choose a rider,' said Skömm. 'She's disappeared.'

'No doubt she'll come back,' said Skade. 'Don't worry, Skömm.'

Dreyri nudged her brother. 'You sound like an old dam,' she grinned. 'Fussing over hatchlings.'

Skömm scowled. 'I'm worried about her. What if something happens to her?'

'She's a dragon,' Katana reminded him. 'A storm dragon. We know how to take care of ourselves.'

'Definitely,' said Balisong. 'As for me… I'm going to ask Thorn to be my mate.'

'He is a fine-looking dragon,' said Katana. 'A little too haughty for me, though.'

'Not for me,' said Balisong. 'I'm going to speak with him tonight.'

'Good luck,' said Skade.

'I'm a princess now,' said Balisong. 'I don't need luck.'

They laughed together for a while, but all too soon it was time for Galbatorix and Skade to go. Laela had used the last of the energy that had brought her back to life to grow to the same size as Lifrasir and her siblings, and she easily held up under the weight of her two riders and their luggage. Galbatorix sat gracefully in the saddle, clad in his white robe, and they saw that the grey streaks in his hair were slowly changing back to black. 'Goodbye,' he said. 'And thankyou for everything.'

'Look after each other, and be happy,' said Skade.

'We will,' said Skirnir.

Then Laela took off, flying up and away from the assembled dragons and into the grey sky. Urû'baen slowly receded into the distance, and they flew away over the snowy landscape together and set out on their journey, free at last.

Skade sat in front of Galbatorix, her arms wrapped around Skandar's egg, and watched the land roll away below them with joy in her heart.

And then, quite suddenly, the egg moved under her fingers. She started, looking at it uncertainly, and felt it move again. 'Galbatorix!' she cried, her eyes widening. 'It moved! It's hatching!'

Laela heard her. She came down to land as fast as she could, alighting on a rocky outcrop among a stand of pine trees. Galbatorix and Skade climbed out of the saddle as fast as they could, and crouched beneath her head so that she could see, placing the egg on the ground to watch it move.

Which it did, again and again. Faint squeaks came from inside it, and it rocked from side to side, its hard silver shell making loud clinking sounds on the stone. Then it began to crack. They watched, not saying a word, neither one making a move to intervene. The cracks spread further, and at long last the egg broke apart, and out came…

A dragon. It was much larger than an ordinary hatchling – so large, in fact, that it was hard to believe that it had ever fitted inside the egg at all. Its scales were iron grey, the colour of a stormy sky, and its eyes were jet-black. The dragon uncurled its wings and legs and stretched, lifting its head up, its mouth opening to reveal rows of sharp teeth.

But there was something very slightly odd about it. It did not look like any dragon they had ever seen. There was something subtly different about its shape – it was heavier, its chest more broad, its horns smaller. But this dragon was their son.

'Skandar?' Skade faltered.

The dragon looked at her keenly, and then at Galbatorix. Its eyes – no, his eyes – were bright and glittering, and disconcertingly intelligent.

Skandar watched them in silence for a time, and then did something very strange. He stood up, rising onto two legs and supporting himself with his tail, his wings spread. And then something happened that shocked them.

His wings began to shrink. They got smaller and smaller, until they had disappeared entirely into his back. And then the rest of him began to change as well. His outline rippled and stretched, bones cracking and skin stretching. His scales flaked away and his horns vanished, and little by little, his shape shifted. It was all over in less than a minute, and when it was over, they found themselves looking at a human boy. Ten years old, with long, curly silver hair and black eyes. He had his father's angular features, but his mother's pointed ears and elongated canines, and his fingernails were claws. He stood there, completely naked, and then collapsed.

Skade and Galbatorix were there at once, lifting him into their arms. His skin and hair were damp, but he was warm and alive, and he stirred and looked up at them. Then he spoke. 'Are you… my parents?'

'Skandar,' said Galbatorix. 'Oh my gods…'

Skandar looked at him, and the hint of a smile showed in his eyes. 'Are you my father?'

'Yes, Skandar,' said Galbatorix. 'I'm your father, and this is your mother.'

Skandar coughed. 'What is this place?'

'This is Alagaësia,' said Skade. 'Skandar… how did this happen? How did you do that? Do you know who you are?'

Skandar reached up to touch her face. 'I am… Prince Skandar Ravana Taranisäii… Mother.'

'How did you grow up so fast?' Skade asked. She stroked his hair. 'You're so… you have my hair.'

'I don't know,' said Skandar. 'I don't remember a time when I wasn't in the egg. But I could hear you. All the time. I could hear you speaking. I wanted to come out and see you.'

Skade let out a sob. 'Oh, Skandar!' She hugged him close, and Galbatorix did as well. His mind was reeling. My son. Skandar, my son.

Skandar giggled. 'You're warm. I like you.'

Laela watched them all with a bemused expression. 'Has life always been this strange?' she wondered out loud.

Galbatorix and Skade stood up, lifting Skandar to his feet. Galbatorix took off his robe and wrapped it around his son. 'Oh yes. Always.'

Skandar, practically engulfed by the robe, reached out to touch Laela's snout. She sniffed at him. 'Are you a dragon?'

'Yes,' said Skandar. 'No. I don't know. Both.'

'Both?' said Laela.

Skandar gently moved away from his parents, letting the robe fall away from him. For a moment he paused, his expression thoughtful, and then –

There was a brief moment where his shape warped and shifted, and then there was a dragon standing where he had been. The dragon flapped his wings a few times, and chirped triumphantly, and then changed back into a human.

Galbatorix and Skade gaped at him. 'How did you do that?' said Galbatorix.

'I don't know…' Skandar faltered. 'I don't know much. But I think I know what I am.'

'What are you?' said Laela.

'What Ravana made me,' said Skandar. 'I am Skandar Taranisäii… the weredragon.'

Night lay over Urû'baen. Up on the castle walls, Thorn and Balisong slept side-by-side, their tails entwined. Nasuada lay peacefully in her temporary quarters, with Silarae curled up on her chest, sharing her dreams. Beside her was Murtagh, his hand in hers.

Sif was awake in her own room next door, brooding and talking to Saphira.

King Ravana did not sleep. The huge black dragon flew slowly over Alagaësia, watching over his new lands.

And, in her workroom in the lower end of the castle, the one-eyed tailor hummed to herself as she stitched the collar onto a new tunic. She enjoyed these times, when the rest of the castle slept and she was free to do her work without interruption.

A scuffling from the doorway startled her, and the needle slipped and embedded itself in her thumb. She swore and pulled it out. Hastily wrapping the injured digit in a scrap of cloth to avoid spotting the new tunic with blood, she looked around to see what had made the noise. The door was half-open, but there was nothing there. She muttered and kicked it shut, then returned to her work.

But she couldn't concentrate. She had the uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched, and kept glancing up uneasily, turning her head to compensate for her missing eye. There was nothing there. She sighed and reached for a spool of thread.

'What are you doing?'

The tailor looked up sharply.

There was a small silver dragon perched on a shelf, watching her with interest. She realised she had looked straight at it several times without realising it.

She put down her scissors and stepped forward, looking up at the dragon, which looked back placidly.

'I'll be damned. A bloody dragon. What are you doing in here?'

The dragon yawned. 'I was bored, so I climbed up here to watch you. What were you doing?'

'Making clothes,' said the tailor. 'It's my job. How did you get into the castle?'

'I climbed in through a window,' said the dragon. 'My name's Skuld. What's yours?'

The tailor smiled a little. 'Well, it's nice to have some company. Did you come with the other dragons?'

'Yes, but all the others are busy. Silarae went with that human female, and Saphira went with her hatchling, and Rose and Skarlath bonded themselves to those other humans, and none of them want to talk to me any more. And now Mother's left too.'

'Oh? Where did she go?'

'Away over the sea,' said Skuld. 'She went with the other human, the one with the red eye.'

'You mean King Galbatorix,' said the tailor. 'And Queen Skade? She's your mother?'

'She cared for me,' said Skuld, as if that settled the matter.

The tailor had watched them depart through her window. She sighed and went back to her work. 'It's been a strange day, with the King and Queen gone, an' all. And now we've got that damn great dragon, whatsisname, on the throne, and these new riders. I'm going to miss him, you know.'

'Miss who?' said Skuld.

'The King, that's who,' said the tailor. She sighed wistfully. 'I did like him, you know. I made all his robes for him. He said I was the only one who made 'em the way he liked. I even fancied that I was in love with him for a while.'

Skuld made a dry, hacking sound that was a dragon laugh. 'You're funny. I like you.'

The tailor glanced up at her. 'Thanks.'

They didn't speak for a while, and then Skuld shifted on her perch and said; 'What's that over your eye?'

The tailor touched her eyepatch. 'Oh, this old thing. Some bastard poked my eye out with a dagger. I got him good, though. Gave him something to think about.'

Skuld blinked. 'What does that mean?'

'Means I beat him over the head with a bottle and put a ding in his skull,' said the tailor.

Skuld grinned. 'You're a fighter?'

'Oh yes,' said the tailor. 'I've fought in wars, you know. Here, look at this…' she carefully anchored the needle in place behind a row of stitches, and strode to the other side of the room. There was a simple bed there, and she rummaged underneath it and pulled out a huge double-headed battleaxe with a rusty, notched blade. She lifted it easily in both hands. 'Damn. I forgot how heavy it is.'

Skuld stared at it in wonder. 'What's that for?'

'It's an axe,' said the tailor. 'I carried this thing into battle, so I did. Taught those sons of bitches a lesson. Women weren't supposed to join the army, though, so I did it in secret. I grew up here in the city, see, and I learnt how to fight easy enough. Other kids was always thinkin' I was a boy, see, so they used to pick fights with me. I got too big for 'em to handle in the end. Got so I was picking the fights in the end. I won, too, and serve 'em right. I got a job workin' for a tailor, but I wanted to be a soldier an' fight for the King. I'd seen him, see, when he came out to talk to the people one day. I was in the crowd and I saw his face, and I thought… well, I thought "I'd fight and die for a man like that". So the bloody Varden come along and start causin' a fuss, and I thought "to hell with this, I don't care if women ain't allowed in the army", so I cut me hair short and dressed in a man's clothes and signed up. Idiots never noticed a thing. I marched into battle with them, right in the front line, me and my axe.' She grinned. 'Orlando the Axe, they called me. I fought in three battles and never got a scratch, but then some bastard saw me without a shirt and I got dragged back here in chains like some kind of criminal. An' then…' she lowered the axe, her single eye distant. 'They brought be before the King to be judged. And my gods, it was worth it just to meet him face to face. Them eyes of his, you feel like you could drown in 'em and you wouldn't mind a bit. So, he says to me, you know you broke the law by joinin' the army, an' I said, yeah, I know, but I did it anyway, just for you, an' I can promise you I broke a few skulls in your name. He liked that, I think, but he said, "you still broke the law, and the penalty is sixty lashes". I said, fine, as long as you're the one handling the whip.' She chuckled at the memory.

Skuld's tail twitched. 'What did he do then?'

'He laughed,' said the tailor. 'He said, since you fought bravely you won't be punished, but you can't go back to the army. Everyone will know I let you off, an' I'd never hear the end of it, every woman in the city would want to join up next. So he let me keep my axe, and he gave me a job workin' for him in the castle. I tell you, I fell head over heels in love with him right there and then. I would've given anything to tell him, but I couldn't. I mean, I was just a commoner, and with a big ugly face to boot. So I mooned over him like a stupid little girl for years on end, and when he didn't go with anyone else I pretended like he was secretly pining for me.' She laughed self-deprecatingly. ''Course, he was just waitin' for the Queen to come back, warn't he? But I stayed loyal to him, all the same.'

'That's so sad,' said Skuld.

The tailor shrugged. 'Wouldn't surprise me if half the women in Urû'baen weren't secretly longing for a piece of that action, if you know what I mean. Some men are just like that. You know, after he went missing, everyone mourned for him. I didn't, though.'

'Why, didn't you care?' said Skuld.

''Course I cared. I just warn't about to waste time moping around. I packed up my bags and went looking for him. Travelled around half the damn country, hoping to find him, just me an' my axe. I never found him, but I fought at Dras-Leona under the Three Knights. Survived the massacre an' got back here, an' found out the Shades had taken over. But I just slipped back into me old rooms, an' hardly anyone noticed I'd been gone. Ten years. Ten bloody years, making clothes for a pair of Shades, waiting for the King to come back. And then he comes back, kills the Shades, sets up a new government and runs off again. Can't ever seem to pin the man down, eh?'

'You've done all sorts of things,' said Skuld. 'It sounds amazing. I wish I'd seen all that.'

'Ah, well, you're young,' said the tailor. 'You've got years ahead of you to see all that. Now, me, I'm forty-seven years old, I got one eye an' me joints are goin' stiff. I seen a lot with this one eye o' mine, but I don't reckon I'm done yet.'

Skuld sighed. 'You know why I came into the castle?'

'No, why?' said the tailor. She stowed the axe away back under the bed, and straightened up, dusting down her tunic.

'I couldn't sleep,' said Skuld. 'I felt like I'd lost something, but I didn't know what it was, so I went into the castle to look for it.'

'Ah, well, best place to look for something you've lost is the place you last saw it,' the tailor observed, adjusting her eyepatch.

'But I don't know what it is!' Skuld exclaimed. 'I don't know what it looks like!'

The tailor frowned. 'Well, you got me there. I'm Senna, by the way. Senna Baenborn.'

Skuld lay on her belly, her head hanging over the edge of the shelf, and sighed. 'I want to see things like what you've seen. I don't want to stay here; it's strange and boring.'

'There's some amazing things out there,' said Senna. 'I ain't seen 'em all, but I'd like to, some day. I mean, out that way-,' she pointed East – 'Out there are lands no-one's explored. I used to think of how I'd like to go out there and take a look, but I never did.'

Skuld stood up. 'I'm hungry. Do you have any food?'

'I might have some dried meat somewhere,' said Senna. 'Here, let me have a look…' she rummaged in a small cupboard over the bed. 'Ahah! Here we go.' She turned around, holding a little strip of salted beef, which she offered to the dragon. Skuld took it delicately, and chewed it. 'It tastes strange.'

'It's the only sort I've got,' said Senna. 'Sorry.'

'I like it,' said Skuld. She swallowed the last of her food, and then peered over the edge of the shelf. It was higher than she'd thought, and she paused uncertainly. She wasn't used to flying in such close quarters.

'What's up?' Senna enquired.

'I don't know how to get down.'

'Here,' said Senna. 'Jump down and I'll catch you.'

'Do you promise?'

'Of course. C'mon, jump!' she held out her arms.

Skuld hesitated, but she made eye-contact with the tailor, and the look gave her confidence. She jumped. Senna caught her neatly. 'There!' she cried. 'I told you I'd catch you!'

Skuld snuggled against her chest. 'I like you, Senna.'

'I like you too,' said Senna, and touched the dragon's small head.

The instant their skins touched, it happened. A great surge of energy rushed through them, moving through their bodies like hot blood. The tailor yelled and fell backward onto the bed, thumping her head on the wall in the process. Skuld landed beside her, and got up after a moment or two, shaking her head dazedly. Then she nosed cautiously at Senna's hand. 'Are you all right?'

Senna sat up. She groaned and rubbed her head. 'What in the hell happened? Damn, my head hurts…'

'So does mine,' said Skuld.

Senna picked her up carefully. 'Are you all right? I feel strange.'

'Your hand,' Skuld said quietly.

'What?'

'Look at your hand,' said Skuld.

Senna obeyed, and felt her heart skip a beat. 'No,' she said. 'I'm dreaming.'

Skuld touched the silver circle with her snout. 'That's a rider's mark,' she said.

Senna kept shaking her head. 'No. I've drunk too much again. Me? A rider? Don't be ridiculous, it's just not… what happens.'

'No,' said Skuld, and this time she spoke inside her new partner's head. 'I chose you, Senna. I came looking for my rider. I have found her.'

'But a rider!' Senna exclaimed. 'You don't just… this sort of thing isn't for me. Dragons bond themselves with youngsters. It's kids who become riders, not rough old things like me. And I'm just a tailor, for gods' sakes, what do I know about magic an' fancy swordplay?'

'I don't know,' said Skuld. 'But… but I chose you, and I like you. Don't you want to be a rider?'

Senna laughed. 'Want to be a rider? Every street urchin I grew up with wanted to be a rider, or a king or a princess. I let go of silly ideas like that when I grew up and got a brain.'

'But now you're a rider,' said Skuld. 'I'll stay with you forever. And when I'm big enough, I can carry you.'

Senna rubbed her face with her hands. 'What am I going to do?' she moaned. 'I'm not right for any of this. I don't want to rule.'

'We could leave,' said Skuld.

Senna looked up. 'What?'

'I said, we could leave,' said Skuld. 'Both of us. We could go away and explore together, and have adventures. I'd like that. Would you?'

Senna paced back and forth, muttering feverishly. 'No. Just no. This is impossible, I can't do this, I…'

Skuld watched her patiently, saying nothing, and finally Senna came to a halt. She sighed deeply. Not saying anything, she reached under the bed and brought out her axe again, hefting it in her big callused hands. Then she put it aside, and brought out a large canvas bag. It was empty, but she put it on the bed and began to stuff it with clothes.

'What are you doing?' Skuld asked.

'Packing, of course. Can't go without taking some spare underwear along, can I?'

Skuld grinned. 'So we're going?'

'Of course we are,' said Senna. 'I'm not sticking around and letting them make me take oaths to serve the realm and whatnot. We're going. You and I, tonight. And I'll show you what adventure's like.'

And peace reigned over Alagaësia. Somewhere under the roaming stars were a man and a woman, walking together, the man striding ahead with his head hunched and the woman struggling to keep up. And a burly woman with an axe slung on her back, who walked slowly and steadily Eastwards, a dragon seated on her shoulder, silver scales gleaming. Journeys ended, and journeys begun.

Galbatorix slept against Laela's flank, with Skade beside him and Skandar curled up between them in his dragon shape. The face of the former king was untroubled and peaceful in the starlight, as he frowned in his sleep and turned over. But his left eye did not sleep. It remained open and alert, turning ceaselessly this way and that. Watching. Galbatorix Taranisäii knew nothing of it. He slept on, dreaming Shade dreams.

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