Chapter Eight

Nightmares and Fairths

Neither Galbatorix nor Laela ever told anyone about what had happened to them. Both of them understood the enormity of it, so much so that they were unwilling to even talk about it between themselves. That evening, when he had retired to his quarters, Galbatorix consulted his books, looking for some explanation. Laela was now too big to fit inside, but he opened the window next to his bed and she rested her head on the sill by his shoulder and watched patiently while he read.

At length, Galbatorix looked up from the last book. 'Nothing,' he said out loud. 'Nothing in any of them. This one talks about how the psychic bond works, but it doesn't say anything about losing contact with your own body.'

'What does it say?' said Laela.

Galbatorix switched to his mental voice. 'It says… uh… the language is a little old-fashioned… "being in mental contact with thy dragon at all times be a powerful thing, and not always for the good. Be thou able to open thy mind to that of thy dragon, thou wilt find the means by which to share both memory and emotion. But beware lest thou makest the connection too deep, for thou shalt taketh the risk of losing thy view of the world around thee and thus making thyself vulnerable to attack. Be ye ever careful, Argetlam"… Who writes like this?'

'It's just telling us what we already know,' said Laela. She snorted. 'Losing track of where you are… that's nothing compared to what we did today.'

'Wait a minute,' said Galbatorix. 'I've found something. "Although a shared mind is indeed a great gift, one which goes beyond mere friendship and love, thou must be always aware that thee and thy dragon still be two beings. One mind to one body saith the ancient law. At the moment of death, some riders have sought to shelter their dragon's mind within their own… such a thing be an abomination in the eyes of men and elves and shall mean death for the one who so defileth himself". What does that mean?'

They were silent for a time, thinking.

'I think it means… well, what if one of us died?' said Laela.

Galbatorix shuddered. 'That's not funny, Laela. Don't even talk about it.'

'But remember what Carina said?'

Galbatorix did. According to his teacher, if a rider or his dragon died, it almost always meant death for the other. Feeling a part of yourself die was probably the most painful thing anyone could ever experience, and had driven some riders or dragons insane or simply killed them outright. But what this book seemed to be suggesting was that a rider could take his dragon's mind into his own body to save it, or vice versa.

If that was true, he could see why it was considered obscene. And it would never work. Two minds in one body was a nightmare, and he promised himself there and then that he would never even consider trying it again.

'We did that today,' he said, shivering. 'I didn't know…'

'Neither did I,' said Laela. He could feel her rage. 'Why didn't they tell us something like that could happen?'

'Maybe they didn't think of it,' Galbatorix suggested lamely.

Laela snorted. 'Idiots. I tell you, Galbatorix, I'm not trusting what they say again.'

Galbatorix stroked his chin thoughtfully. It was strange to think that his teachers weren't infallible. But, paradoxically, he suddenly felt a little burst of pride. 'We found a way out on our own,' he said. 'It's amazing, really. We thought of a solution. I mean, you thought of one. You're brilliant, Laela.'

Laela blinked. 'I hadn't thought of it like that.' She grinned unexpectedly. 'We're brilliant, you and I. Nothing and no-one ever stops us.'

Galbatorix lay back, setting aside the books. He couldn't stop himself from grinning as well. Brilliant. Yeah.

That night, when he had retired to his hammock and Laela was curled up outside, Galbatorix had a dream. More than a dream. A nightmare.

He saw himself lying at the base of the tree, pale and limp as death. He was looking down at himself, unable to speak, and when he tried to reach out his hand was as insubstantial as a shadow. A silent scream echoed in the darkness. No! Wake up, open your eyes! Help me!

But there was no-one there to help. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, slower and slower, gradually weakening. Then it stopped. Wake up! he yelled. You have to wake up! Open your eyes!

There was no answer. No-one who cared. He stood there, utterly alone, looking at his own dead body and crying out for help, appealing to the shadows all around. No-one and nothing was there. Only darkness, and smothering, silent cold. Open your eyes!

His own dead body twitched, and the eyes snapped open with a loud bang. But the eyes that stared at him from that pale, dead face weren't his, but Laela's.

And then he was falling. Faster and faster, the ground rushing up to meet him, he fell, staring at nothing, unable even to cry out. And the ground didn't touch him. It was always coming closer, but he never hit it. He only fell, forever and ever.

Laela suddenly appeared, falling beside him, a white beacon in the darkness.

HELP ME! he screamed. HELP ME, LAELA! SAVE ME!

Laela looked at him with terrible sadness. I can't, she said. I'm sorry, Galbatorix. I have to go.

Her eyes sank into her head, and she turned into the iron amulet he'd been given that day in Teirm before crumbling into dust, her scales blowing away in the wind.

LAELA!

Thump. Galbatorix woke up with a start. After a second or two of panicked bewilderment, he found himself on the floor, tangled up in the remains of his hammock. One of the ropes holding it up must have broken, he realised.

'Galbatorix? What happened?'

'Laela,' he sighed. 'There you are… had a bad dream. Sorry I woke you up.'

'I had one too,' said Laela. 'It's lucky you woke me… I was about to break down the wall to get at you.'

Galbatorix got up, disentangling himself from his bedding, and went outside. He found Laela curled up on the dewy grass under his window in obvious distress, the light of the full moon shining on her scales. He crouched by her head, touching her to comfort her.

She sighed deeply. 'What did you dream?'

'It was-,'

'No,' said Laela. 'Don't tell me. Show me.'

Galbatorix summoned up the memory of his dream, and he showed it to her as best he could. It was easy now.

Laela examined the faint images, and he felt her solemn response to them. 'This is what I saw,' she said.

Galbatorix closed his eyes, the better to see what she wanted to show him. He saw a vision of himself. In Laela's dream he was taller and stronger than he really was, with a boy's eyes in a man's face. He was clad all in white with a white sword in his hand, and he was surrounded by shadowy forms. They lunged at him, attacking him, and he fought back, screaming defiance, his white sword cutting them down but remaining unstained. But the enemies were everywhere. Their weapons opened deep wounds on him, and his white clothes slowly darkened with blood. He held out his right hand, and the gedwëy ignaesia glowed with white energy to strike down his enemies. But the instant it struck them it turned red and then black, and they only grew stronger when it touched them.

The shadows closed in on him, and he swung the white sword at them. It killed many of them, but then its blade began to bleed. His wounds gushed blood, and his white clothes turned to pitch black. Only a tiny patch of white remained, right over his heart. The sword blackened and then crumbled to dust, and he saw himself fall beneath the shadows, his eyes full of terror as they tore him to pieces. In the dream, Laela was nearby, watching it all. She cried out his name, trying desperately to reach him, but some unseen force held her back, and all she could do was struggle in vain as she watched him die.

The dream ended there. When Galbatorix opened his eyes, he looked blankly at the wall of his little home. It was covered in deep gouges.

'You were trying to save me.'

Laela looked at him with terrible fear. He could feel her shuddering under his hands. 'It was horrible,' she said. 'I thought… I thought it was real, and… what if I lost you? I couldn't bear it.'

Galbatorix sat down, hugging her desperately. 'It's all right, Laela,' he said. 'I'm here. I won't leave you, I swear.'

Laela looked up at him. 'Promise?' she asked with a tone of almost pathetic entreaty.

'Yes,' said Galbatorix. He sat there for a few moments longer, then got up and vanished back into his temporary home, closing the door behind him. Laela sat there alone, staring at the door. She found herself fighting back tears.

But, a few minutes later, the door opened and Galbatorix re-emerged, carrying an armful of blankets. Without saying anything, he constructed a little bed for himself on the ground by her flank and curled up in it, resting his head on her neck. Laela spread her wing over him and coiled her tail around him. He wrapped his arms around it and fell asleep a short while later, hugging it to his chest.

Not long afterward, Laela too slept.

Next morning, Galbatorix was woken up by the sound of someone knocking on his door. He sat up sharply, only to find that he wasn't in his house. He was in a small white… tent, by the looks of it. Then he realised that the nearest wall was breathing, and remembered.

He looked out from under Laela's wing, and saw Carina standing with her back to him. She was looking in through the window of his temporary home, and a moment later she went back to try the door again.

'I'm over here,' Galbatorix called.

Carina looked around sharply, in time to see Galbatorix emerge from his shelter and stretch. Laela re-folded her wing and stood up, shaking herself awake.

'There you are,' said Carina. She looked him up and down, and to his embarrassment Galbatorix realised he was still in his nightshirt. 'What are you doing out here?'

Galbatorix coughed and started to gather up the blankets. 'I was keeping Laela company. She got a bit scared. Oof!'

He got up, rubbing his back, and glared at Laela. She looked back innocently.

Carina smiled. 'Well, go inside and get dressed. I was thinking we should have another try at flying today.'

Galbatorix and Laela glanced at each other, and then started to laugh.

'What?' said Carina. 'What's so funny?'

Galbatorix shook his head, still laughing, and retreated indoors. Not long later he re-emerged, wearing his usual black tunic and trousers and his old boots and carrying Laela's saddle under his arm. Without a word, he went straight to her and began strapping the thing in place. Once it was on he climbed into it and looked down at Carina.

'See if you can catch us,' he said.

Laela leapt into the air. Carina, backing away to avoid the white dragon's thrashing wings, watched them go with amazement. Laela circled lazily over the treetops, and Carina could see Galbatorix seated confidently on her back, showing no signs of fear. She smiled. They had done it.

Laela turned in the air, her movements full of grace and power. Then she dived. She came rushing straight over Carina's head and then shot up again. As Carina ducked instinctively, she heard Galbatorix shout; 'Can you catch us?'

Carina straightened up and smoothed down her hair with a dignified hand. But as she watched Laela showing off, she found her spirit rising as it hadn't done for years.

'Leaf! Where are you?'

There was a pause, then Leaf replied. 'I'm coming, Carina.'

A few seconds later the green dragon appeared over the treetops. He landed by Carina, his eyes on Laela and Galbatorix. Carina sensed his pleased surprise. 'So they did it.'

'Yeah,' said Carina. 'And now they're showing off.'

'Hatchlings are all the same,' said Leaf, shaking his head.

'We're not that much older, though, are we?' said Carina. 'I fancy a little fun. Shall we put them in their place?'

Leaf glanced at her, bright-eyed. 'With pleasure.'

Carina vaulted into the saddle, and the dragon took off in a flurry of wings. He caught an updraught, straightened out, and began to chase Laela. She saw him coming and flew off, whooping. Sitting on her shoulders, Galbatorix glanced back and saw Carina, her brown hair streaming in the wind. She was grinning wickedly at him. Then, to his surprise, she made mental contact with him. 'We'll catch you all right,' she said.

Galbatorix raised his eyebrows. 'Come on, then!' he yelled back. 'We'll give you a run for your money… Laela! Let's go!'

Laela put her head down. 'Hold on tight.'

The white dragon shot forward. Leaf did likewise. Galbatorix and Carina held on, and Leaf and Laela began to chase each other. Laela flew fast and recklessly, looping and diving like a swallow. But Leaf matched her dive for dive. Laela sped up and then dipped below the trees where the bigger dragon couldn't follow, mocking him with a grin. Galbatorix lay flat against her neck, gritting his teeth when passing branches smacked into him, and Laela broke up through the canopy again and executed a fantastic backwards loop, up and over and under.

That was a mistake. Although she was only upside-down for a moment, the violent motion took Galbatorix by surprise. And he hadn't strapped his legs into the saddle. He lost his hold and went tumbling from Laela's back, yelling in terror.

But Laela was quick. She let her loop carry her straight under him, and he landed back in the saddle. He nearly fell off the side, but Laela brought her head around and nudged him back into place, and flew on, having scarcely paused. Galbatorix hastily strapped himself in place, and Laela and Leaf flew on, hooting like a pair of youngsters.

The elves on the ground were watching, many climbing into the trees for a better view. Galbatorix could hear them cheering and shouting encouragement. His fright over his fall was swept away by Laela's exhilaration, and he wondered where his terror and his sickness had gone. He seemed to have lost it somewhere the previous day. Now he gloried in the wind rushing past his ears, and the feeling of weightlessness didn't make him feel ill or dizzy. His fear of flying had been replaced by Laela's joy, as though he'd lost a piece of himself.

That only bothered him for a moment. Fear was something he was glad to lose, especially now. Especially now, when he knew what it was really like to fly.

As Laela beat her wings, he had a strange feeling. Not a bad one. He thought he could feel a pair of phantom wings on his own back, beating in unison with hers. He reached back automatically to touch them, but there was nothing there.

'How do you feel?' Laela asked him.

Galbatorix smiled. 'Like I have wings.'

'You do!' Laela crowed.

As they circled back over Ellesméra, they saw Thrain on the ground. Flell was standing beside her, and both were gawping at them.

'Come on!' Galbatorix bellowed.

Laela roared at Thrain, challenging the other dragon, and then she shot up once more with Leaf in close pursuit. They reached the outer edge of Ellesméra and circled back, flying straight under Leaf and away, back the way they'd come. When they passed over Flell's lodgings again, Thrain rose into the air to join them, Flell seated on her back.

The purple dragon, riding on Laela's slipstream, spoke directly to Galbatorix for the first time. 'You did it!'

'We did it,' he corrected. He caught Flell's eye and waved to her, saying; 'Let's show Leaf what we can do!' he was speaking to Laela and Thrain as well.

Flell glanced back and saw Leaf rushing toward them. She looked Galbatorix and grinned, then lay low on Thrain's neck. Thrain hurtled forward.

For the rest of the morning, Laela, Thrain and Leaf flew over Ellesméra, their riders hanging on and shouting taunts and challenges at each other. It was half a game and half a lesson – after a while Carina and Leaf began to offer advice and suggest new moves for the two younger dragons to try. Laela and Thrain listened, and for the first time Galbatorix found out what it was really like to be a rider in the air.

It was like riding the wind. On the ground Laela was fairly slow-moving, even clumsy; he could outrun her without much trouble. But in the sky… that was where she came to life. She flew as if it were a dance, weaving among the clouds with the liquid grace of a snake, her scales white as snow and her wings the faintest, softest silver. She outpaced both Thrain and Leaf, and though Leaf was much larger than her she could outmanoeuvre him with ease.

Hunger and tiredness finally forced the green dragon to land, and Thrain landed beside him. Laela stayed hovering overhead for a few minutes, then landed, panting and grinning. Leaf bowed his head briefly to her. 'You are indeed an impressive flier, Laela.'

Galbatorix undid the leg-straps and half-fell out of the saddle. He managed to land on his feet, but only managed to stay upright by leaning on Laela's foreleg. He was chilled and hungry, his muscles were sore from holding on and he had horrible pins and needles in both legs… but he'd never felt better in his life.

Flell, however, quickly helped him top that. She dismounted, ran over to him and hugged him, so fiercely she nearly knocked him over. 'You're amazing!' she exclaimed. 'How did you do it?' Without waiting for an answer, she kissed him on both cheeks. 'And that thing where you jumped out of the saddle and then Laela caught you – that was fantastic! I thought I was going to faint!'

'But I-,' Galbatorix began. Laela nudged him mentally. 'Oh,' he said. 'Well, you know, it was nothing…'

Flell let go of him and punched him playfully in the arm. 'I knew you'd do it eventually. You're a rider good an' proper now.'

Thrain lumbered over and nuzzled Laela in the shoulder, draping a pale violet wing over her neck in a kind of dragonish hug. Laela growled in an affectionate kind of way, and the two dragons wrestled, trying to push each other over before giving in to exhaustion and sitting back on their haunches, side-by-side, their tails intertwined. Flell linked arms with Galbatorix and looked triumphantly at Carina. She had climbed down from Leaf's back and was looking quite tired. But she smiled on her students.

'Well done,' she said. 'Very well done. You both flew very well. And you overcame your fear, Galbatorix, with Laela's help.'

'I did,' said Galbatorix, smiling and glancing at Laela, who looked back approvingly.

'You understand that I could have helped you solve your problem,' said Carina. 'But I knew that if I gave you the chance you'd find a way on your own. I was right.'

Galbatorix glanced at Laela again. They shared a feeling of outrage. Carina had known they would do what they had done? And hadn't bothered to warn them?

But pride made Galbatorix say; 'We managed it,' in the most casual voice he could muster.

'Don't tell me how you did it,' Carina added, though he hadn't suggested that he was going to. 'There's no need. Some things are just between you and your dragon.'

Galbatorix nodded solemnly. 'Can you believe this gibberish?' he asked Laela in the privacy of their heads.

'Try and keep a straight face,' she advised. 'She's about to tell you off.'

'You fly very well,' Carina went on. 'You sit well in the saddle and move in harmony with Laela, as a rider should. However-,' she frowned. 'I'm not sure I approve of that little stunt you pulled early on. I can understand that you were excited and wanted to show off, and yes, the odds that Laela wouldn't have been quick enough to catch you were very low, but you shouldn't take risks like that until you're more experienced in the air. Is that understood?'

'What stunt?' Galbatorix asked innocently.

'You know perfectly well what I'm talking about,' Carina said sternly. 'While you're in the air, stay in the saddle and keep the straps done up. I knew a young rider who thought she was invincible enough to leave the straps off, and…' she trailed off meaningfully.

'…and she was smashed to bits on the ground,' Galbatorix supplied.

'Actually, no,' said Carina. 'But she was asking for it.'

'Who was she?' said Flell.

Carina smiled. 'She was me about twenty years ago. Luckily her dragon talked some sense into her. Now then… I've got some news for you two before you go to lunch.'

They waited.

'Because of this delay we've had, there's been a slight change of plans,' Carina told them. 'You won't be going to Vrael after all.' She paused there, and Galbatorix's heart sank. What had he done to deserve this? But then Carina continued to speak. 'Instead,' she said, 'He'll be coming to you.'

'Vrael's coming here?' said Flell.

'Yes,' said Carina. 'You see, in a week's time the elves will be holding a special celebration known as the Agaetí Blödhren – the Blood-Oath ceremony. It's in honour of the day peace was made between elves and dragons, and all the rider elders come to Ellesméra to take part – including Vrael. And your fellow students will be coming back as well.'

Galbatorix's eyes widened. 'The Blood-Oath ceremony?' he'd heard about it a few times. It was probably the most famous event ever held in the elvish settlement, and he'd hoped he would be able to attend it one day.

'Yes,' said Carina. 'It's been a while since I've been to one – usually fully-trained riders are too busy with their duties to have time for that sort of thing. The ceremony is very wild, but it puts a fire in your blood…' she sighed. 'Yes… I'll be glad to be at this one. However, there's one thing you'll have to do.'

'What?' said Flell.

'Everyone who comes is expected to present something they've made,' said Carina. 'A piece of artwork or craftsmanship… whatever it is, it has to be something you've put your heart into. Even if it's not very good, if it's an honest effort you'll be praised for it.'

'Artwork?' said Galbatorix, nonplussed. 'Why?'

Carina shrugged. 'It's traditional. Elves place a lot of value on art.'

Galbatorix noticed for the first time that her ears were pointed. 'What sort of art?'

'It can be anything,' said Carina. 'A poem, a story, a painting, a piece of jewellery… anything someone can make. Don't panic; just think it over and you'll come up with something.'

Laela blinked. 'How am I supposed to make anything?'

Leaf extended his neck in order to fix her with a stern look. 'By using your brain, young dragon. And your imagination.'

'But of course,' said Laela in sarcastic tones, allowing Galbatorix to hear her.

Galbatorix managed to stop himself from sniggering. 'We'll… uh, see what we can do.'

'I'm sure you will,' said Carina. 'Now, we'd better go and have something to eat, and afterwards I've got a new lesson for you.'

'Swordplay again?' said Flell.

'No, not this time.' Carina looked at Galbatorix. 'It's time for you to try magic again.'

After they'd eaten lunch – which one again was meat-free; something Galbatorix was finding increasingly irritating – they repaired to Islanzadí's open-air audience chamber. Part of the roof had been cut back to make way for Galbatorix's oak tree, which was now considerably taller than Laela. She and Thrain had gone with Leaf to resume their usual training, and Carina sat down cross-legged on the grass under the tree with Flell and Galbatorix, ready to teach them something new.

A stack of flat slates had been placed in a handy hollow in the tree's roots, and Carina picked one of them up and showed it to her students. Galbatorix and Flell examined it politely. It didn't look like anything special.

'What's it for?' asked Flell.

'This slate has been treated with special pigments,' said Carina. 'With a simple spell, it can be used to paint an image of something the caster has seen. Watch closely.' She held her hand over the slate and spoke some words in the ancient language. Light glowed faintly around it, and as Galbatorix watched he saw colours begin to swirl over the grey surface of the slate. Every colour of the rainbow, swimming there like oil on water. Some of the colours faded away while others grew brighter, and in the space of a minute or so an image formed. It was of a young man – more a boy, really – standing in a stone courtyard by a fountain. He was looking straight out toward them, his expression disconcertingly alert.

Galbatorix was intrigued. The picture was far to sharp and vivid to be a conventional painting. It looked almost real. He looked up inquiringly at Carina.

'This is a fairth,' she said. 'I created it by focusing on a memory. Many fairths have been considered to be great works of art, but unfortunately making one isn't as simple as it looks. It requires a lot of mental focus and control, and I'll warn you that you'd better expect your first few attempts to be failures. You can try it now.' She picked up two more slates, and handed them to Galbatorix and Flell.

'Now,' she said. 'The words to say are taka sási muninn eđa vísa ita fram sási steinn – "take this memory and capture it upon this stone". I suggest you choose something you remember very clearly, especially if it has deep significance for you. The fairth I just made…' she touched it and smiled shyly. 'This picture shows the first boy I ever kissed. His name was Thorold…' she blushed. 'Give it a try, and I'll watch.'

Galbatorix examined his slate, wondering what memory he should use to make a fairth. It had to be something meaningful and vivid…

In the end he chose Ilia, the wild dragon. He remembered how she had crouched in her cage, the savage light that burned in her eyes, the rich red colour of her wings.

He focused on the memory, immersing himself in it, and when he thought he was ready he held his hand over the piece of slate. What were the words again? Oh yes.

'Taka sási muninn eđa vísa ita fram sási steinn!'

For the second time in his life, he felt his magic flowing out of him and into something else. It gave him a little thrill of fear, and suddenly the recollection of what had happened in this very spot months before flooded into his brain, blotting out the image of Ilia that he was concentrating on.

He swore and broke off the stream of magic, then looked at the slate again.

It didn't show a picture of Ilia – he'd lost his focus too early. What it showed instead was… bizarre.

His fairth was just as bright and sharp as Carina's had been, but the image it showed wasn't of Ilia or of the accident with the oak tree. What it showed instead was a surreal mix of colours and shapes. There was a hand at the centre, sharply drawn and detailed. Its fingers were spread wide, and the palm facing outward but turned slightly to the left, had a silver gedwëy ignaesia on it. White energy was flowing from the hand, outlining the fingers, and the energy warped and changed into a mass of different things. There was a tall tree – an oak – and part of a dragon's face – Ilia, snarling defiance from between the bars of her cage. There was a green eye that was probably Carina's, and a blue one that could have belonged to Flell. Beyond that it was simply colour and form which didn't quite resolve itself into a clear image, although it came very close.

Galbatorix examined his creation thoughtfully. He had to admit it had a kind of beauty, even if it hadn't worked the way it was supposed to.

Carina held out her hand. 'Let's see it.'

Galbatorix gave it to her, wondering what she'd say. Carina looked at the fairth, and he saw her blink several times in confusion. She looked up at him. 'What were you trying to do with this?'

'I was focusing on the wild dragon I saw in Teirm,' Galbatorix explained. 'But I got distracted when I cast the spell… started thinking of the accident with the tree.'

Carina frowned. 'This is very strange. I've seen fairths that didn't work before, but nothing like this. Normally failed fairths are just blurry or only half-formed. But this one is… it looks like it's made up of dozens of different memories.'

'What does that mean?' Galbatorix asked.

'Well…' Carina looked uncertain. She tapped the swirling rainbow of colours that surrounded the images. 'This here is pigment that didn't get used. You stopped the spell before it had faded or settled. That's common enough. Beyond that, I really don't know. It looks like your mind works in an interesting way.'

For some reason Galbatorix felt a little proud. He glanced at Flell. She was holding her own fairth loosely in her hand, and leaned over to have a look at his. 'That's really beautiful, Galbatorix!' she said.

'You think so?'

'Yeah!' said Flell. 'Is that me there?'

She indicated a half-formed shape that looked vaguely humanoid.

'Could be,' said Galbatorix. 'What did you make?'

Flell gave him her own fairth. 'It's not very good,' she said apologetically. 'I couldn't focus properly.'

Flell's fairth was a picture of Thrain and Laela standing side-by-side as they'd done only a few hours earlier. Galbatorix could recognise the two dragons well enough, but they were blurred and ill-defined, as if he were looking at them through a pane of cheap glass.

Carina took the fairth from him. 'Pretty good for a first attempt,' she told Flell. 'Just remember to relax and let the memory dominate your mind.'

Flell nodded. 'Okay. Can I try again?'

'Certainly,' said Carina. She put the two fairths aside and gave her students a fresh piece of slate. 'Choose a different memory this time. Galbatorix, I suggest you try one that's a little more recent.'

Galbatorix nodded and took the fresh slate. But while he was considering what memory to use, he had an idea – did it have to be a memory? Why couldn't it be something he made up?

He considered it for a while, and then decided to give it a try. It couldn't hurt.

Coming up with something was a little tricky. Everything he thought of was either too complex or too mundane. In the end he settled on his sword – the one he didn't have yet. Eventually he would be presented with a sword like Carina's; it would have a white blade to match Laela's scales, and be finely-made and strong as only a rider's sword could be. He'd often tried to imagine what it would look like, and now he could have a go at capturing that image.

Galbatorix concentrated on the idea of a sword that was yet to be forged. It would have a white blade, yes, and the hilt would be silver like Laela's eyes. It would be plain but elegant, maybe a little shorter than Carina's, with a more tapered blade. And his name would be engraved on the hilt. His sword.

A wonderful feeling of calm and certainty settled over him. 'Taka sási muninn eđa vísa ita fram sási steinn.'

The magic went to work, and this time he managed to keep his mind focused. When the spell was complete, he looked at the new fairth and smiled. It showed an image of a sword, just like the one he had imagined. It stood against a black background, vividly outlined by white and silver lightning. When he looked more closely at it, he thought he could make out – yes – his name engraved on the hilt. But, to his surprise, he saw that it said neither 'Galbatorix', nor 'Arren'. Instead it said 'Fárbjóđr.' His true name, he was sure of it. It had come to him while he was trapped in Laela's body, and he knew it was his. But he didn't know what it meant.

Flell was already showing her second fairth to Carina. Galbatorix, craning his neck to see, found she'd created a fairly well-defined image of a bright orange butterfly perched on a grass-stem.

'It's that one over there,' Flell added helpfully, pointing at the insect in time for them to see it fly away.

'Very good!' said Carina, giving the fairth back. 'You're already improving. Now, Galbatorix, what have you done?'

Galbatorix wordlessly handed her the fairth.

'What in the name of the gods is this?' said Carina. 'Where did you see this sword?'

'I didn't,' said Galbatorix. 'Well… it's my sword. That's what I think it'll look like.'

'You mean you just made it up?' said Carina.

'Yes,' said Galbatorix. 'I know you said to use a memory, but I thought… well, I wondered if I could do it with something I just made up. I mean, I still saw it. Just, in my head.'

Carina was giving him a long, slow look.

'Did I do something wrong?' Galbatorix asked. He was suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable.

'Are you sure you never saw this sword?' said Carina.

'Yes,' said Galbatorix. 'The only rider's sword I've ever seen was yours. When they're making my sword, can I show this to them and ask them to make it look the same? I… well, I like this sword. That's all.' He looked at the ground, almost shyly.

'Hm,' said Carina. 'I don't see why anyone would have a problem with that. And no, you haven't done anything wrong. I'm just a little taken aback.'

'Why?' said Flell. 'I think it's a good picture.'

Carina handed the fairth back to Galbatorix. 'It's just that, as far as I know, it's impossible to make a fairth from something that isn't real. Well, obviously it's not impossible, because you just did it.'

'Oh,' said Galbatorix. He wasn't sure what to think about this.

'One thing is certain,' said Carina. 'You, Galbatorix, have a very unique mind. You surprise me every time I teach you something new.'

Galbatorix fidgeted. 'Thankyou,' he said, a little hesitantly, since he wasn't really sure whether he was being complimented or not.

Carina flashed him a brief smile. 'When they asked me if I thought you should have the chance to become one of us, I told them I thought you could well become an elder one day. I'm pleased to see I wasn't mistaken.'

That made Galbatorix happy. 'You really said that?'

'Yes,' said Carina. 'Now then… unless you'd like to try another fairth, you're free to go.'

Flell stood up. 'I'm ready to go,' she said. 'Come on, Galbatorix, let's go and see what our dragons are up to. We can go for another flight.'

Galbatorix half-stood, but paused. 'Carina?'

'Yes?' said Carina.

'How do people find out their true names?'

'Oh,' said Carina. 'It's a bit early to be thinking about that, but… well, everyone has their true name hidden inside them. But it's very deeply buried. You can't find it just by wishing for it. Finding out your true name comes later, once you've really mastered your link with your dragon. To tell you the truth, I haven't found out my true name yet. But when you do find out what it is, never, ever tell anyone else what it is. Even if you trust them. Because your true name is the key to your heart. If someone else gave you a command using your true name, you would be forced to obey them. Even if they told you to kill your own mother, or throw yourself into a pit of fire, you'd do it without question. True names are very dangerous.'

Galbatorix went cold. 'I'll remember that… but what's your true name like? What sort of name is it? Is it just a name like… Galbatorix, or Carina, or something like that?'

'No,' said Carina. 'Your true name is a word in the ancient language – sometimes two – something that describes your true self perfectly. Once you know what it is, you'll have a very deep insight into who you really are or what you could become.'

Galbatorix nodded. 'I see.' He picked up both his fairths and left with Flell.

'Shall we go and find the dragons, then?' Flell asked. She didn't seem overly interested by what Carina had said.

'All right,' said Galbatorix. 'Just let me stop by my house and leave these fairths there.'

Flell nodded. 'I'll go ahead to my place and wait for you there.'

They parted ways when they reached the door to Galbatorix's lodgings. He entered them and nearly tripped over a pillow he'd left in the doorway. Muttering irritably, he carefully propped the fairths up on the little table by the bed. He paused to admire their bright colours, and then picked up a book from the stack he'd left on the floor. It was a dictionary of words in the ancient language.

He sat down and flicked through the book until he got to the letter 'f', then searched for the words 'freslae', and 'fárbjóđr'. He found 'freslae' first. According to the dictionary, it meant 'saviour'. He smiled. That was a good meaning. And Laela had already saved him several times.

Then he found 'fárbjóđr'. He read the meaning. He read it again. The book fell out of his hands and landed on the floor with a thump, lying there still open to that entry.

Galbatorix looked down blankly at the book, staring at the words. They looked back, outlining their meaning sharp and clear, black on white. His true name, staring him in the face. And its meaning.

Galbatorix picked up the book again, holding it gingerly, as if it might bite him, and ran his fingers over the words. But there was no denying what they said.

Fárbjóđr (noun): One who destroys.

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