Chapter Seventeen

Recalled

Cardock was in a foul temper. He slammed the door of his home shut and threw himself into a chair. '"Too busy"?' he exclaimed. 'Too busy? Too busy to see us? My gods, I'd tan that boy's hide if I had the chance.'

Freyja was nearly in tears. She sat down by the fire, her expression miserable. 'Well, I suppose he's got a lot on his plate right now…'

'On his birthday?' said Cardock. He sighed, his anger fading a little. 'We haven't seen him in so long… he didn't even come and visit when he got back here. Has he forgotten we exist?'

'No, Cardock, don't be silly,' said Freyja. 'He's just… oh, I miss him so much…'

'It's all that "Galbatorix" nonsense is what it is,' Cardock declared. 'He's taken it into his head that he's someone other than what we raised him to be. No, we're not his birth parents an' whatever, but we're the ones who took him in, aren't we? We were parents to him, we treated him like our son. And he just goes and does this to us. I know he's a rider an' all, but that's no reason to go around actin' like a snot.'

'He probably didn't mean it,' said Freyja. 'He's… I just wanted to tell him how proud I am of him. All the good things he's done. At least we know we raised him properly.'

'I'm going to go back up there tomorrow and give him a piece of my mind,' said Cardock. 'He might be a lord now, but that doesn't mean I've stopped being his father.'

Freyja glanced around the little room. There was a pot of stew bubbling over the fire, and an apple pie on the table with a pitcher of cream. 'I suppose a meal at home would have been too embarrassing for him,' she said. 'But I worked so hard to have it all ready for him…'

There was a knock on the door. Cardock got up, cursing, and opened it. On the other side was a tall, menacing shape, its face covered by a hood.

'Who the hell are you?' said Cardock, automatically reaching for the knife in his belt.

The stranger glanced around quickly, then took off its hood.

Cardock's mouth fell open. 'What the-?'

It was Galbatorix, looking slightly nervous. 'Uh… can I come in? I don't want anyone to see me.'

Cardock's face split into a great grin. He stood aside and Galbatorix entered, and he noticed that his foster son now had to duck slightly to get in through the door. He stood in the middle of the room, looking a little out of place in his fine black clothes, and said; 'I'm terribly sorry about the – oof!'

Freyja had flung herself on her adopted son with a cry of joy. She hugged him tightly. 'I knew it!' she said. 'I knew you hadn't forgotten!'

Galbatorix hugged her back. 'Of course I didn't,' he said. 'I might be a rider, but I still have parents, and I didn't want to spend my birthday alone.'

Cardock closed the door and clapped him on the back. 'It's good to see you again, lad. Forgive me for thinking you'd forgotten about us. Go on, sit down and have a bite to eat.'

Galbatorix sat on his old stool at the table, his long legs folded a little awkwardly under the table, suddenly feeling like a boy again. 'You made a pie for me,' he said, seeing it.

Freyja was already putting the stew into bowls. 'Of course I did, you silly boy. It's your favourite, isn't it? Now, eat up and tell us all about what you've been doing.'

The three of them sat together around the table and ate. The taste of Freyja's stew, the sound of hers and Cardock's voices, the feeling of being in this little house again… it brought a hundred memories flooding back, along with a warm and wonderful ache in his heart. After everything that had happened he had nearly forgotten about his old life, but now he was back here it was as if he'd never left.

'So tell us,' said Cardock. 'Why'd you send us away like that? Your mother was nearly in tears.'

Galbatorix winced. 'I'm sorry, Father. But I actually was right in the middle of something. Vrael'd sent me three messages demanding to have the treasury report done by the end of the month, and… well, if I'd come here with you everyone would have seen me; it was still broad daylight. I had to come down here in secret.'

'But why?' said Freyja.

Galbatorix put down his spoon. 'Are you joking? I can't go anywhere in public without being harassed by every idiot who sees me. It's a bloody nightmare. Everyone wants something. It's like they think I'm some divine wellspring that knows the answers to all their problems. It was amusing the first few times, but now…' he rolled his eyes.

Freyja nodded. 'Well, I can understand that. It must have been a nuisance getting here.'

'It wasn't a problem,' said Galbatorix, shrugging. 'I knew I couldn't just ignore you.'

'It's good to have you back here, Arren,' said Cardock. 'We've missed you. Everyone down the marketplace wanted to know where you'd gone, an' when I told 'em you'd become a rider they didn't believe me.'

'What, people actually cared?' said Galbatorix, genuinely surprised. 'About me? The bastard half-breed?'

'Oh, that's died down now,' said Cardock. 'Most people didn't really believe it; it was just a wild rumour. Some of 'em asked me about it and I lied. Said you'd been born the year after that whole… thing with your parents and someone'd just made the story up.'

Galbatorix felt warm with relief. 'That's good. I've been… sometimes I wish I didn't know about it either. I keep feeling afraid that someone else is going to find out. If Vrael found out, or one of the other elders… I don't know what they might do to me.'

'Why would they care?' said Cardock.

'Well, they're very… dogmatic.' He sighed and changed the subject. 'It's good to be home. I didn't realise how much I'd missed it. Laela would have wanted to come too, but she's not back yet, and besides…'

'Laela?' said Cardock. 'Who's that? Found yourself a girl, have you?'

'What? Oh, no, Laela's my dragon. But I did find someone, you know.'

'That's wonderful,' said Freyja. 'Who? What's her name? What's she like? Is she in the city?'

Galbatorix sighed. 'She's in Ilirea,' he said. 'I thought… well, I thought I was in love, but now I'm not so sure.'

'Had a lover's tiff, did you?' Cardock said wisely.

'Not quite. It's just that… she hasn't written to me for months, and I haven't seen her since I first came here. She was very upset with me last time we met.'

Freyja touched his hand. 'Tell us about it. You'll feel better.'

Galbatorix hesitated. 'Well, I'm not sure…'

'Go on,' said Cardock. 'You can't expect your troubles to go away if you keep them to yourself.'

'I suppose…' and before he knew it, he was telling them everything.

He told them about his trip to Ilirea, the hatching of Laela's egg, his training there, the accident with the tree… everything. And most of all, he told them about Flell. How they had met, his growing interest in her, their flirtations and talks, and finally their tryst after the Blood Oath celebration, which he alluded to without being overly specific, but with some embarrassment. They listened sympathetically, and he told them about his training and the second Blood Oath celebration, and Flell's confession.

'And she said she wanted me to marry her so I could help her raise the child,' he said, staring into his empty bowl. 'And I would've done it,' he added, looking up at them. 'I would've preferred to wait a few years, until I was older, but I knew I couldn't just leave her. Not after that.'

Freyja shook her head. 'Silly girl. She should have known better. Going with a man without taking precautions… what did she think was going to happen? Didn't you remind her?'

'I mentioned it to her a few times,' Galbatorix said wretchedly. 'I thought she was taking care of it, but women don't like to talk about these things directly. But I couldn't marry Flell without telling her the truth. So I did. I told her about what I am.' He gave his foster parents an imploring look. 'Did I do the right thing? I mean, it felt like the right thing to do, but I'm not sure…'

'You did what was right,' Cardock said firmly. 'It mightn't have been easy, but it was right.'

Freyja agreed. 'You'll get nowhere in life if you lie to the people you love. But what did Flell do?'

'She-,' Galbatorix hesitated. 'She wasn't happy,' he said at last. 'She was upset, disbelieving… I pleaded with her, tried to get her to understand, but I just don't know… she avoided me after that and I didn't see her again. She went back to Ilirea without seeing me, and I had to come here. I never got the chance to see her. I would have asked Vrael to let her come here with me, but he was gone too… I wrote her a letter, but she never answered.'

Cardock and Freyja exchanged glances.

'If she did that, then she's not worthy of you,' was Cardock's opinion. 'Honestly. Unless she can accept you for what you are, then it'll never work.'

'But what about the child?' said Galbatorix. 'My child?'

Cardock snorted. 'It's her own fault she's in that situation. It'd serve her right if you just left her to deal with it on her own.'

'No!' said Freyja. 'She made a mistake, but that's no reason to leave her in the lurch. She probably still cares for you, Arren. You should seek her out and offer her any help you can. At least explain to her that you told her the truth because you care about her.'

Galbatorix nodded. 'I'll do that,' he said, feeling inexplicably relieved. It was good, he realised, to have someone to confide in like this. He had Laela, of course, but for all that she loved and understood him she had little understanding of human matters. It was a sharp reminder of how isolated he really was in the castle. There were plenty of other people living there with him, but none of them knew him. They took orders from him, but they neither knew nor cared about him as a person.

'So what else have you been doing?' said Cardock, getting up and gathering the empty stew-bowls. 'Tell us about this training of yours. I still can't believe you actually became a rider, you know. I thought you'd lost your mind when you up and went to the castle for testing, but looks like the boot's on the other foot now. And speaking of boots…' he glanced downward, and smiled. 'You made them yourself, didn't you?'

Galbatorix nodded. 'The riders taught me how to use a sword and work magic, but only you taught me how to make a good pair of boots. With all the things I have to do every day, doing a little leather-work helps keep me together. And no-one else seems to be able to make them how I like them.' He shrugged and smiled, a little bashfully. 'Silly, I suppose.'

'Not at all,' Cardock said firmly. 'If a man doesn't know how to work with his hands… well then he ain't worth much.'

Galbatorix stifled a laugh. 'You just described every single one of the riders I know.'

Freyja chuckled, but Cardock, returning to the table, said; 'Well, that's the truth of it if you ask me. Them riders keeps themselves shut away all the time, acts like we don't exist except to do what they say… they don't care a fig for common folk like your mother and me.'

'Cardock! Don't say things like that!' said Freyja, shocked.

But Galbatorix nodded. 'I agree.'

'Thought you probably would,' said Cardock. 'I could tell from the way you've been running things here. Letting people into the castle, going to the court-house like that, just listening to people. That's something none of the other governors have ever done. I'm proud of you, lad. You might be a rider now, but you've still got your feet on the ground and your head outa the clouds.'

'So you think I've been doing the right thing?' Galbatorix blurted. 'I mean, with freeing the slaves and everything… Laela and I argued over it for hours and even though we agreed in the end I've been thinking about it all the time…'

'Of course you have,' said Freyja. 'We both agree on that even if we can't agree on anything else.' She glanced affectionately at her husband, and went on; 'You're the best governor the city's ever had. Everyone I know thinks so. Why, just the other day old Eirn – remember her? – just the other day she said to me, "I don't know how you did it, Freyja, but that's one fine boy you raised there and one fine governor as well". And we all know how she goes on about the government and whathaveyou.'

Galbatorix grinned, the expression making him look much younger. 'Really?'

'Definitely,' said Cardock, in a firm voice that settled the matter.

That cheered him up a lot. 'I've been doing my best. I keep wondering if Vrael's found out about it yet and if he's going to yell at me or not… but enough about me, what about you? What've you been doing all this time?'

And so they talked on. Cardock told him about the doings of everyone in the marketplace, and how he'd kept his own stall running in spite of a couple of minor setbacks, Freyja talked about her friends and neighbours, and Galbatorix told stories about his misadventures with Laela. He showed them the gedwëy ignaesia on his palm, which they looked at in wonder, along with his sword, which he'd brought with him, and the ring and the amulet from the vault of House Taranis, relating the story of how he'd come to have them. Freyja disapproved of that. 'That was stealing, you know.'

Galbatorix shrugged. 'No-one owns them now. The House of Taranis is dead. And I am technically the last surviving direct descendant, so… well, I suppose I felt I was owed them. And they're just trifles anyway.'

And so the evening went on. They ate thick slices of apple pie with cream, along with a dish of sugared nuts (something very expensive in Teirm), and afterwards they retired to the fireside for a cup of spiced wine which Cardock had been saving especially. Galbatorix hadn't enjoyed himself so much in a long time. At long last he was with people who loved him unconditionally and treated him as their equal, and there were no uneasy secrets between them, nothing to hide and nothing to fear. He could sit back and relax and talk freely, and forget about all his cares and responsibilities.

Later, he would look upon it as the last truly happy day of his life.

Freyja and Cardock had a birthday present for him.

'It's not much,' Freyja said apologetically. 'But your father carved it himself.'

Galbatorix took off the paper it was wrapped in. It was a comb, finely carved from a single piece of wood, decorated with a pattern of dragons. He laughed when he saw it.

'Well, you're always combing your hair,' said Cardock, trying to sound disapproving but failing. 'I figured it'd be useful to you.'

'Well, hair like this tangles easily,' said Galbatorix, mock-indignantly. 'Especially now I've grown it out.'

'So do you like it?' said Freyja.

He hugged her. 'I love it. I'll carry it around in my pocket no matter where I go.'

There was a faint rumbling from outside. Galbatorix glanced up at the window in time to see lightning flash in the sky. 'Looks like a storm,' he said.

Cardock yawned and stretched. 'Well, we could certainly do with some rain…'

Thunder crashed again, and rain began to drum on the roof. Galbatorix stood up. 'I'm a little worried about Laela,' he said, going to the window to look out. 'She shouldn't be flying in a storm…' he opened the window and poked his head out. It was raining quite heavily. There was a half-moon in the sky, only just visible as a brief glow behind the clouds, and he could see the heart of the storm – a great dark mass of clouds, edged with lightning, hanging over the sea. He reached out automatically for Laela with his mind, but she wasn't there. He could still feel her presence in the back of his mind, but she was too far away to hear his mental voice. He started to feel a little worried.

'There's one hell of a storm building just out to sea,' he reported, withdrawing and closing the window. 'I don't like it…'

'Why, where's your dragon?' said Freyja.

'She went out flying this morning. Said she was going to follow the coast. If she gets caught in that… well, the winds in a storm are very dangerous, and that's without the lightning. A dragon can't fly in a storm. It's suicidal to even try it. I've heard stories. Dragons who went flying in bad weather… some of them were battered against cliffs or dragged out to sea, or were struck by lightning…'

'Calm down,' said Cardock. 'I'm sure she's fine. Here, sit down and have another cup of wine.'

Galbatorix sat. 'She'll be all right,' he said, as much to reassure himself as for any other reason. 'She's not an idiot.'

And then, quite suddenly, pain went ripping through him. He cried out, dropping his cup and spilling wine all over the floor. A fraction of a second later, the pain hit him again. He doubled over, gasping, clutching at his stomach. Freyja and Carnoc were there at once, all concern.

'Arren, what's wrong?' said Freyja, taking hold of his shoulder.

'Something's hurting me,' Galbatorix said, trying to stand up. 'But I think – oh!' he crumpled to the ground, hitting it hard, and began to thrash about on the floor, yelling as the pain thudded into him, as if he were being savagely beaten. He tried instinctively to cover his head and stomach, even though no-one was attacking him, and his parents saw him start to jerk and twitch, like a dying animal. They crouched by him, trying to hold him still, calling his name, both horrified and bewildered. He finally relaxed and lay there on the floor, his breathing ragged and shallow.

'Arren, what is it?' Cardock demanded. 'What's happening to you?'

Galbatorix made an attempt to get up, but slumped back down. 'Laela,' he rasped. 'It's Laela. Something's happening to her. I – aah! Oh gods, it hurts…' he rolled onto his side and curled up, shuddering as fresh pains bit into him. 'She's dying. Oh, gods, Laela, no, no, no…' his voice trailed off, and he began to sob with fear.

Freyja, tormented by a terrible sense of helplessness, lifted him in her arms and cradled him against her chest. His face had gone deathly white, and his eyes looked bigger, as if his pain and terror were causing him to age backward.

'It's all right,' Freyja whispered, holding onto him. 'Just lie still…'

He clasped her hand, and she could feel him trembling. 'Mama, I'm scared,' he said, his voice a child's. He closed his eyes and convulsed once again as the unseen pain assaulted him yet again.

Freyja glanced up at Cardock. 'We have to get help,' she said.

He hesitated. 'But who?'

Freyja didn't know. The two of them stayed with their adopted son and tried their best to comfort him, but as he screamed and twitched and cried out Laela's name they both began to feel very real fear. There were no visible wounds, nothing they could see physically tormenting him, but the way he moved, the sounds he made… they were the signs of a man in mortal agony. A man who was dying.

But after several terrible minutes the pain seemed to cease, and he finally stilled, his breathing becoming more peaceful. For a few seconds he lay there, apparently unconscious, but then his eyes opened.

Cardock touched hi shoulder. 'Arren, are you all right? For the love of gods, say something!'

Galbatorix looked at him. There was a curious blankness about his stare, as if there was no-one living behind his eyes, but then he surprised both of them by suddenly standing up, his motions as steady and strong as if nothing at all had happened to him. He patted himself down, apparently checking for injuries, and then strode toward the door. 'Laela's hurt,' he said. 'I have to go to her.'

Freyja and Cardock hurried after him. 'Arren, sit down, for pity's sake,' Cardock said, reaching out to stop him. 'You've got to rest, I mean, after that…'

Galbatorix took his cloak down from its hook and put it on. 'No,' he said, with a note of stern command in his voice that hadn't been there before. 'I'm fine. I have to go to her, now.'

'But you don't know where she is,' said Freyja.

'She's down by the shore,' said Galbatorix. He picked up his sword and ran out of the house.

Freyja and Cardock followed him. The instant he was outside, Galbatorix broke into a sprint, running off down the street at breakneck speed, heedless of anything that might be in his way. His foster parents followed him as fast as they could.

And Galbatorix ran. He ran as he had never run before, not even pausing to strap his sword to his back. He slung it awkwardly over his shoulder, where it thumped against his back with each stride, and ran as he had never run before, through the darkened streets of Teirm, the rain lashing against his face, lightning splitting the sky, again and again while the tempest tore the heavens apart.

He could feel himself aching savagely all over from the pain of Laela's wounds. Phantom blood was flowing down his back and sides, hot and sticky, filling his mouth with its vital, metallic tang. He could feel her in his head, crying out for him, again and again, her voice an animal scream of sheer terror. She was dying. He could feel the life slowly draining out of her with every step he took.

And so he ran. He ran until he reached the harbourside, where boats bobbed at their ports, great black shadows in the darkness. The storm was very close now. The sea was churning with its violence, and wind howled in over the bay, unimpeded by hills or mountains. The rain had stopped abruptly, and the wind tugged at his hair, blowing it back over his heaving shoulders so that it wrapped around White Violence's hilt.

He stopped for a few seconds, right at the end of the street which led to the waterside, then began to run along the docks, passing endless rows of fishing boats until he reached the spot where a group of large trading ships were moored.

And that was where he found her, lying half in and half out of the water, her head and forequarters collapsed over a broken jetty.

He sprinted toward her, ignoring the splintered and breaking wood under his feet, and at long last he was beside her, crouching to touch her head so that she would know he was there.

One of Laela's wings was draped over the jetty. The other trailed in the water, blood running down over its silver membrane to turn the surf red. He could see the source of the terrible pain that had racked him straight away. Laela's flanks were covered in deep gashes that had torn right through her scales. There were more on her neck as well, and one of her forelegs was badly mangled. Her eyes were closed.

Galbatorix patted her face frantically, probing at her mind and trying to make mental contact with her. 'Laela? Laela! For the gods' sakes, speak to me!'

Laela opened her eyes and looked up at him, and a great sigh went through her body. 'Galbatorix,' she murmured. 'There you are… did I… hurt you?'

'I'm fine,' said Galbatorix. 'What happened to you? How badly are you hurt?'

Laela blinked. 'I think…' her mental voice was vague and dreamy, even peaceful. 'Think I… lost a lost of blood… it doesn't hurt so much now… nearly didn't… make it back.'

Galbatorix didn't waste another minute. He spread his hands over the deep cuts on her neck and healed them with a spell. He turned his attention to her foreleg next; it took considerable time and effort, but after a few minutes of intense concentration and a large chunk of his energy restored it. He couldn't get at the rest of her injuries, so he made mental contact with her again, saying; 'Laela, you have to get up. You have to get out of the water if I'm going to heal you.'

She didn't seem to hear him. She groaned and mumbled, shifting slightly, but her eyes were closed. Touching her mind with his, he could sense her weakness and confusion. She had lost too much blood, and her strength was almost gone. If he didn't heal her soon, she would die.

He stood there, frozen in indecision, not knowing what to do, his mind full of a ghastly possibility. What if Laela died?

He could remember Vrael's words then, all too easily. To be a rider and to have your dragon die is a loss more profound than anyone can imagine until they have experienced it. It means losing more than your closest friend. Losing your dragon means losing half your heart; your protection, your certainty, your sanctuary. It leaves you more alone than you could possibly imagine.

He closed his eyes. 'No,' he whispered. 'No!'

He knelt beside her and lifted her head into his arms with a fresh burst of strength. Throwing caution to the winds, he entered her mind and wrapped himself around it, feeding his own fear and desperation into her, giving her a sense of urgency to make her fight back against her weakness.

Laela's eyes opened. Her mouth opened and she breathed in deeply, and her front legs began to scrabble at the jetty's broken planks. Galbatorix urged her on wordlessly, and she raised herself on her forelegs and then slid gently into the water. Galbatorix dumped his sword on the jetty and dived in without waiting to take off his tunic. He surfaced, gasping for air, and guided Laela toward the shore, swimming by her head and holding onto one of her horns so that she wouldn't lose touch with him. He could feel her lassitude and pain dragging her back, but she steeled herself and swam slowly but steadily forward until the water became shallow enough for her to stand. Freyja and Cardock had arrived by now, and they dashed into the shallows and helped Galbatorix to show Laela the way. She stood up, her legs buckling but still able to hold her up, and dragged herself up and out of the water, blood-tinged water running down her flanks. She made it up onto the shore, and there she fell heavily onto her stomach.

People from the nearby houses, having heard all the noise, came running to see what was going on.

They found a great white dragon lying wounded on the stony beach by a broken jetty. The city governor was standing by her, wet and shivering, casting healing spells over the injuries on his partner's flanks and belly, all his attention on her. The people gathered around to watch, all talking at once but none daring to go too close.

Galbatorix could feel the energy draining out of him with each healing, but he ignored it. He didn't care if he ended up in a coma again; all he cared about was Laela. He could feel her pain lessening as each wound closed, and it spurred him on. As his own strength lessened, hers increased – when he had healed every injury that he could see she opened her eyes and said; 'Galbatorix? Where am I?' with a new strength and certainty in her voice.

Galbatorix stroked her head. 'You're in Teirm, at the docks. Roll over; I need to deal with the wounds on your underside.'

Laela obeyed, albeit slowly and clumsily. Her chest and stomach had more slashes in them, but Galbatorix knew the danger was over. She was going to live. He healed the deeper ones but left those that were smaller and less dangerous. 'There,' he said once he was done, shuddering from exhaustion and taking hold of her leg to stop himself falling over. 'I'm done. I'll heal the rest of it later… when I'm…' he blinked and sat down sharply, clutching at his head.

Cardock and Freyja were with him at once. 'Are you all right?' said Cardock.

Galbatorix slumped forward slightly, but pulled himself upright again. 'I feel dizzy,' he said. 'Could you… could someone get my sword, please?'

Freyja hurried away and returned with the weapon. He took it and stood up with some help. Laela rolled onto her belly and picked herself up, shaking her wings. 'Oh,' she sighed. 'I feel terrible.'

Galbatorix went to her, touching her flank. 'Are you all right?' he asked. 'Gods, Laela, what happened?'

Laela shared a feeling of bewilderment and fear. 'I was attacked,' she said. 'By another dragon.'

Galbatorix swore. 'Who? Who was it? Was it a wild dragon?'

'I don't know…' she showed him the memory.

He saw her flying over the sea, following the coast. It was dark, and the stars were coming out. Lightning was flashing on the horizon, but she was unafraid.

And then…

Galbatorix cringed.

'He just appeared out of nowhere and attacked me,' said Laela, shuddering. 'I don't know where he came from, but it was near Narda. He was shouting things at me, terrible things… calling me a traitor and an oathbreaker…'

Galbatorix shivered as the mental images moved through his brain. 'But who would do something like that? It can't have been a rider's dragon, but why would a wild dragon do that?'

'Some wild dragons don't like the riders,' said Laela. 'But… but…' she was quivering with fright.

'Come on,' Galbatorix said out loud. 'We've got to get you back to the castle. You need to rest. That was a very near miss you had.'

Laela nodded briefly and began climbing slowly up the beach. Galbatorix walked beside her head, moving slowly and wearily but ignoring his own fatigue. People began to crowd around him, their voices full of concern.

'My Lord, what happened? Are you all right? Is there anything I can do to help?'

'Move back, you idiots! For the love of gods, give them some air!'

'My Lord, what can I do to help you?'

Galbatorix looked around at the sympathetic faces, with an odd feeling of relief. 'My dragon is hurt,' he said. 'I have to get her back to the castle. Help us.'

And they did. A dozen people gathered around and began to help Laela climb the slope up toward the city, pushing at her hindquarters as hard as they could. With their concerted efforts behind her, the white dragon made it back up into the city, and the slow and painful journey toward the castle began. But the people helped. They followed her through the streets, some shouting encouragement. Others ran ahead to make sure the way was clear for her. Galbatorix walked by Laela's side, his hand on her shoulder. Freyja and Cardock were with him, helping him whenever he stumbled, and a strange little procession made its way back to the castle.

Several people went ahead to inform the castle's occupants of what was going on, and by the time Laela arrived, her flanks heaving from her exertions, the gates had been flung open and more people had gathered.

Laela stopped there to rest, while Galbatorix turned to his foster parents. 'I have to go now,' he said. 'She needs me.'

'I understand,' said Cardock. He hesitated a moment, then engulfed his adopted son in a tight hug. 'You scared me there, you know,' he muttered.

Once he had let go, Freyja hugged him as well. 'You've grown into a fine man, Arren,' she said. 'I'm proud of you.'

'Thankyou,' said Galbatorix. 'I… thankyou. Both of you. I'll come back and see you again, all right?'

Cardock nodded. 'Take care of yourself.'

Galbatorix smiled. 'I will, Father. I promise.'

He turned away to help Laela through the castle gates and into the courtyard beyond. Cardock and Freyja watched him go, not knowing that neither of them would ever see their foster son again.

Galbatorix slept that night up on the dragon roost by Laela's side, just as he had done in Ellesméra so long ago. Boy and dragon slept soundly, both dangerously exhausted from their brush with death. Their shared dreams were troubled and ominous.

Galbatorix saw people. The faces of everyone he knew drifted past him in the dark, all murmuring and whispering together. Laela. Freyja and Cardock. Flell. Carina. Vrael. Leaf. Nöst. Thornessa. Queen Islanzadí. Morzan. Brom. So many people. And then he saw them dead. Brom, frozen in ice. Morzan, impaled on a beam of silver light. Flell, her heart torn out and burnt. Carina and Leaf, ageing and shrivelling away before his eyes. Vrael curled up and screaming, pleading for mercy before he was torn apart by merciless claws. His foster parents, crushed to death by a black tide that rolled in from all sides. Everyone dead, one by one, their last screams echoing in his head. He saw the stars fall and the seas boil, he saw burning winds turn the trees and the mountains to ash. He saw cities thrown down and turned to rubble while blood rained from the sky and red lightning struck the ground, again and again.

He woke up sweating. It was dawn, and he turned over and went back to sleep, the dream fading away to be replaced by another.

He saw someone. A small figure, running, its black curls flying. For a few moments he thought it was him, but it turned toward him and he saw that it was a girl. Small and slim, but already tall for her age. Her face was delicate and beautiful, but she had glittering black eyes and a terrible, fathomless stare. She looked at him, and he looked at her, and a strange cold fear ran through him like icy water.

Fear showed on the girl's face. She reached toward him pleadingly, seeking his help, mouthing some words, some entreaty for him to save her. He reached back, trying to take her hands, but he was too far away. The gap between them lengthened, even though he ran toward her, and he saw her fall into darkness, crying out his name.

And then it was not her who was falling, but him. Down and down, through a freezing void, wind rushing past his ears, tearing at him.

He hit the ground with a thud that shook the world to its very foundations, and destroyed him utterly.

'Galbatorix?' something nudged him in the shoulder. 'Galbatorix, wake up!'

Galbatorix opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Laela looking down at him. 'Oh, thank goodness,' her voice said in his head. 'I thought you'd died or something.'

Galbatorix groaned and mumbled. He was freezing cold from head to toe, and his head ached fiercely. Laela nudged him again with her snout, saying; 'Come on, get up. Now!'

He sat up, but his limbs were stiff and sore and didn't want to move. As he lifted his head from the ground, there was a strange crackling sound and he felt his hair come unstuck from the stone underneath it.

'What the-?'

The blankets that had covered him were stiff with frost. His hair was full of ice, and more ice coated the stonework of the dragon roost.

'There was a cold snap during the night,' said Laela. She, at least, looked fine, although the gashes on her stomach that he hadn't been able to heal looked a lot more unpleasant in the daylight. 'You nearly froze to death in your sleep. Here, let me help.' She blew hot air over him, which melted the ice and helped to revive him.

Galbatorix got up carefully, shivering inside his wet clothes. It was morning, and the sky was a glaring white-grey colour that matched Laela's wing membranes almost perfectly.

He put his hand on her snout. 'Are you all right, Laela?'

The white dragon radiated a feeling of deep love toward him. 'I am, thanks to you. I'm so lucky to have you, Galbatorix. That's all I could think about last night. I'm so lucky to have been bonded to you. If I had the choice of taking a different rider… anyone else in the world… I'd still choose you.'

Galbatorix hugged her tightly. 'I'm so glad you're alive… I was so frightened. I thought I was about to lose you.'

'It's all right,' Laela murmured. 'It's all right now. I'm fine.'

'But how could this have happened to you? How could you be attacked by a wild dragon, just like that, when you weren't even intruding on his territory?'

'He must have been a wandering rogue or something,' said Laela. 'Sometimes wild dragons go mad when they lose their territories… I just don't know.'

'Well, I'll send in a report to Ilirea. Whoever this dragon is, he's got to be hunted down and put a stop to before someone else gets hurt. And you'd better stay closer to home from now on. I don't want anything to happen to you, Laela.'

Laela started to protest, but stopped. 'Yes,' she said. 'Yes, you're right. I'll do that.'

A servant appeared at that moment, carrying a tray of food. Galbatorix sat and ate his breakfast by Laela's side, and the pair of them watched the clouds drift over the sky, neither one needing to say anything.

The day was beginning to warm up, and Galbatorix had finished eating and was about to go to work when Laela's head suddenly went up. 'Look,' she said. 'It's a dragon.'

It took a little while for Galbatorix to spot it as well, but spot it he did. A dragon was indeed flying toward the city from the East. A green dragon.

Galbatorix stood up. 'It's Leaf!' he said aloud.

As the dragon drew closer, they could both see that he was right. Galbatorix was pleased. 'Looks like we've got a visitor,' he said.

'It'll be good to have another rider to talk to again,' said Laela. She lifted her head toward the sky and roared. After a few seconds, Leaf roared back. Galbatorix and Laela waited side by side, moving back to allow the green dragon to land. He did so neatly, like a bird alighting on a branch. He was a quarter as big again as Laela, since dragons grow more slowly as they get older, but much more heavily built.

Carina dismounted, and Galbatorix went to greet her. 'Hello!' he said cheerfully. 'This is unexpected. How are you?'

Carina adjusted her clothes. 'Well enough,' she said briefly.

Galbatorix's smile faded. 'What's up?'

'I'm here to relieve you of your duties,' said Carina.

That took him by surprise. 'Really? What am I supposed to do, then?'

'You're being recalled to Ilirea,' said Carina. 'The elders want a word with you.'

She had an uncharacteristically grim look on her face as she said this. Galbatorix's heart sank. 'Oh. Am I in trouble?'

'You could say that.'

'What for?'

'I think you know why,' said Carina, without a trace of friendliness.

It took Galbatorix a few seconds to figure it out. 'Oh,' he said. 'I see. Damn. I suppose Vrael would've found out about it sooner or later… when should I depart?'

'Today. And you'd better hope you have a good explanation.'

Galbatorix sighed. 'All right. Orders are orders, I suppose. But there's something you should know.'

'Yes?' said Carina.

'Last night Laela was attacked by a wild dragon. It was on the coast, somewhere near Narda. We don't know who it was or why they did it, but you'd best be on the lookout. The thing's savage. It nearly killed her.'

Carina paused over that. 'What did it look like?'

'Male, bigger than Laela. Gold scales, bronze eyes.'

'I'll keep an eye out,' Carina said briefly.