Chapter Eighteen

The Tower

The flight to Ilirea took two days. Galbatorix and Laela kept a leisurely pace and stopped several times to visit the various small villages and towns that lay between them and their destination, or to simply rest and enjoy the freedom. Neither of them were in a hurry to get to Ilirea and face Vrael again. They weren't sure of just what he would have to say about what they'd been up to during their time in Teirm, but it couldn't be good if they were being sent back to Ilirea for it. Galbatorix was the more pessimistic of the two, and kept suggesting various punishments that the old elf might have in store for them.

'He'll probably send us away to some place in the middle of nowhere for the next ten years,' he moaned. 'We'll end up supervising a coal mine or something. Or he'll send us on campaign in the wilderness. Nothing but fighting urgal clans and flying over godsforsaken ashlands until we get ourselves killed.'

'Or we might have to go and treat with the wild dragons,' Laela suggested. 'That's not an assignment anyone wants. Half the time the emissaries don't come back.'

'Well, at least it'll be more exciting than paperwork…'

Paradoxically, as they drew closer to Ilirea Galbatorix's mood lifted.

'To hell with Vrael,' he declared. 'I'm not scared of him. I'll tell you what I'm going to do… I'm going to argue with him. When he tells me off, I'm going to fight back. Tell him I know about all the things he's been doing. I'm not going to keep pretending it didn't happen.'

'He won't like that,' said Laela.

'Good. And we'll get to see Flell and Thrain again, too.'

At last Ilirea came in sight. There were a number of other riders about, flying lazily among the towers or perched on the outer walls, keeping a lookout. One of them, a woman riding a smallish green dragon, flew up to intercept them. Laela flew in a slow circle and the green dragon fell in beside her so that the two riders could talk.

'Identify yourself,' the green dragon's rider said.

'I am Arren Cardockson, come back here at Vrael's command,' Galbatorix called back.

The woman took this in, then said; 'Go to the Elder's Tower. They're waiting for you.'

'Thankyou,' said Galbatorix.

Laela flew off, heading for the central and tallest of the towers. She entered the large opening halfway up its length, and landed in the massive Elders' cave, the same one where she and Galbatorix had originally taken their oaths of loyalty.

Galbatorix climbed down from the saddle, scarcely able to believe what he was seeing.

They were all there.

All the elders were in the cave, standing in a semicircle with their dragons, just as they had done that day when he had first arrived in the city. They were waiting for him. And at their head was Vrael.

Galbatorix strode forward without hesitation, Laela following him, and bowed low before his master. 'My Lord Vrael,' he said politely. 'I've come.'

Vrael stepped forward. 'Arren Cardockson,' he said. 'Explain yourself.'

Galbatorix glanced around quickly. All the elders were watching him. Their stares made his heart flutter. He must be in real trouble if they had all come here on his account. Or had they gathered for some other reason?

Oh well. There was nothing for it.

He confronted Vrael, showing no outward signs of fear or nervousness. 'I'm not quite sure what I have to explain,' he said. 'But I'll do my best. My actions in Teirm were according to what you told me to do. You told me to use my judgement, and that was what I did, and as well as I could.'

Vrael did not look even slightly appeased. In fact he looked even angrier than before. And there was something else. Something about the way the old elf was looking at him.

'There is no need to explain that,' his former mentor said, breaking the tense silence. 'I understand your actions perfectly.'

Galbatorix blinked. 'You do?'

'Oh yes,' said Vrael. 'Freeing the slaves. No doubt you felt it was a noble and righteous thing to do.'

'It was!' said Galbatorix, stung by the sarcasm in Vrael's voice. 'It was the right thing to do.'

'Oh, why?' said Vrael.

'Because… because all men, all races, are equal,' said Galbatorix. As he spoke, his voice suddenly rose, filled with a new certainty. 'Everyone we rule over should be treated alike. Humans, elves, dwarves, dragons… even urgals. You taught me that it was my duty as a rider to do justice, and that is what I did. Justice for all races. Justice for all people. No-one should be sold into slavery, no matter who they are or where they come from. I became a rider because I wanted to put a stop to injustice. That's what I've been trying to do.'

To his surprise, his speech was greeted with hisses and mutterings from the elders. They were looking at him now with expressions of undisguised disgust, even hatred.

'How dare you presume to speak to me like that!' Vrael roared. 'You repulsive, presumptuous, arrogant creature!'

'I am a rider!' Galbatorix shouted back, his blood up. 'I'm one of you, and I rule this land just as you do. And how dare you treat me like this? I'm not an elder, but I'm not a puppet of the Queen, either!'

He had gone too far. Vrael's normally calm face was suffused with rage. 'You are no rider!' he snarled, while around him the other elders stirred as if to attack, their dragons growling. 'You're a traitor and an oathbreaker, and you are no equal of mine.'

'I care more about the people of Alagaësia than you ever did,' Galbatorix shouted back, his fists clenching. 'I wasn't afraid to be my own person, you coward.'

Silence fell. A deep, ominous silence. It was far worse than the shouting that had gone before. Vrael looked as if he were fighting to control himself. Behind him, Nöst bared his massive fangs as if he wanted nothing better than to crush Galbatorix in his jaws.

At last, Vrael spoke. 'You have betrayed us all,' he said in a low voice. 'You have defiled what it means to be a rider.' He looked straight at Galbatorix, as if he were looking, not at a fellow rider who he had trained himself, but at something vile and unnatural. 'Hálfr-dreyri. Half-breed.'

Galbatorix felt as if the world had disappeared from under his feet. All the strength drained out of him. 'What?'

'We know,' Vrael hissed. 'We know what you are. You… you subhuman creature, you monster.'

Fear struck him – deep, paralysing fear. 'How did you find out? Who told you?'

'Do you deny it, then?' said Vrael.

Galbatorix bowed his head. 'No,' he said. 'I don't deny it. I know what I am. I've always known. But I've done nothing wrong.' He looked entreatingly at Vrael. 'I'm innocent,' he said. 'I didn't choose to be born the way I am.'

And then Vrael hit him. The elf's small fist caught him hard in the face, and he fell backward, landing in a crumpled heap by Laela's foreclaws. She snarled her fury, but didn't dare move to attack.

Vrael stood over him, his eyes blazing, smooth exterior utterly gone. 'LIAR!' he almost screamed. He raised his arms to the ceiling and shouted; 'Oh by the ghosts of my ancestors, let the sky and the stars bear witness to this treachery, this evil! You planned this. You planned all of it. You stole into Ellesméra in the guise of a simple boy, you used some vile dark elvish magic to bond this unfortunate dragon to you, you insulted my people and violated their home and their ways, and as soon as you were beyond suspicion you set out to destroy the way of life we have preserved for hundreds of years. Freeing slaves, consorting with criminals, destroying valuable records, and as if this weren't bad enough, you violate a fellow rider and leave her with your vile inhuman spawn growing in her belly, and then you have the effrontery to come here and face us as if you expected us to forgive you!'

Galbatorix got up. His nose was dripping blood and a bruise was spreading over his left cheek, but he barely registered the pain. 'What have you done with Flell?' he demanded, starting forward. 'Where is she? What are you doing to her?'

'She has been confined to the House of Healing,' Vrael spat. 'Her time is near. She wouldn't tell us who the father of her child was, but we got the truth out of her in the end. She told us the truth of what you did to her. How you raped her.'

Galbatorix gaped at him. 'Me? Rape? I – that's a lie! I loved her.' His head was spinning.

Vrael snorted. 'I have seen a hundred rapists brought before me, and all of them made that claim. You destroyed Flell's life. And what is worse, you spawned another of your cursed race.'

'I never-,'

'Be silent!' Vrael snapped. 'Now…' he turned his attention to Laela. 'Laela Snowscales, I know you cannot be blamed for your rider's crimes. Tell me true… did you know?'

Laela hesitated.

'Did you know?' Vrael said again. 'Did you know what he was?'

Galbatorix spoke up. 'She didn't,' he said. He spoke in the ancient language and looked Vrael in the eye as he did so. 'She didn't know,' he said again. 'I kept it hidden from her, locked it away in my mind. Laela is innocent. If you're going to punish anyone, punish me but leave her out of it.'

Vrael looked sharply at Laela. 'Is this true?'

Laela cast an agonised glance at Galbatorix. He looked back steadily. The white dragon bowed her head. 'It's true,' she murmured. 'He kept it secret even from me. Vrael, I beg you. Don't hurt him. He's innocent. He never raped Flell. They were in love, I could feel it in them, and in Thrain. Flell betrayed him because she could not bear it when he told her the truth. She's a liar. Galbatorix has a good heart. He's kind, compassionate, intelligent… he has an open mind. He is more courageous than any human I have ever met.'

Galbatorix felt his heart swell a little at her words. She had spoken quietly and passionately, showing no sign of fear, and he could see that the elders were listening. Even Vrael had listened.

'Your loyalty to your rider is admirable,' the old elf said gruffly. 'I am deeply sorry that you were dragged into this sorry affair. If it is true that you knew nothing of his true nature, then you will not be punished. Now…' he looked at both her and Galbatorix, and his voice took on a tone of cold command. 'Take an oath that you will not leave the city again until given permission, and you will be free to leave this place.'

Galbatorix glanced at Laela. 'I promise that I will stay in Ilirea until given permission to do otherwise,' he intoned, using the ancient language.

Vrael nodded. 'Now go,' he said. 'I and my fellow elders will confer. Once we have decided your fate, you will be summoned back here. Do not try and visit Flell, or you will be confined to a cell. Do not take to the air. You will be separated until the decision has been made. Laela, you will stay down in the city. Arren, you will stay in this tower and not leave it, on pain of death. If you give the slightest indication that you are trying to leave, if you confer with each other or with anyone else, you will be killed on the spot. Is that understood?'

With a leaden heart, Galbatorix said; 'I understand.'

'Then go,' said Vrael.

Galbatorix left the cave by one of the doors in the back wall, while Laela turned away toward the entrance she had flown in by. The two of them kept looking back at each other, and when Laela was standing at the very lip of the cave entrance and Galbatorix had half-opened the door, they stopped and stared at each other from across the cave, each one aching to run toward the other. But Nöst moved between them and growled warningly, and the moment was over. Laela flew away into the city and Galbatorix stepped through the doorway.

The instant the door closed behind him, crippling despair flooded into his mind. It was as if the door had shut him away from Laela forever, leaving him alone in a white void, unable to reach her, as though she had ceased to exist the instant he had taken his eyes off her.

For what felt like the first time in years, he didn't know what to do. His heart clenched itself inside him, and he strode away from the elders' cave as fast as he could go, almost running away from that place, from his guilt, and Vreal's accusing face.

He didn't know where to go. His old quarters were in a different tower, and besides, what would be there for him? Nothing but featureless walls and the hammock he had once slept in.

The passageway, like all those in Ilirea, was made of white stone. It looked almost like it had been carved from bone, but there were no visible joins anywhere. The walls met the floor and ceiling not at right angles but with a kind of sinuous, rounded shape, as if he were in an underground tunnel – and one that had not been dug, but grown. Vrael had told him that the city had been built by magic. The stone had melded into itself by the use of spells, and the torches burnt eternally and never diminished because each one had been lit by magic. A strange and beautiful place, Ilirea, but one he had always found strangely… lifeless. As if no-one truly lived there.

Just now it felt like a prison. Scarcely thinking about it, Galbatorix climbed several flights of stairs and finally emerged on a balcony near the top of the tower. It was wide and featureless, the wall around its edge rounded and without crenellations. Ferns had been magically planted in holes drilled into the stone, and grew lush and green without the need for water or soil.

Galbatorix sat down with his back to the low wall at the edge, hugging his knees and staring at the sky. It was bright sapphire blue with scarcely a cloud to be seen, and the sun was well overhead. A beautiful day. Perfect for flying.

Galbatorix let out a sob. Fighting back tears, he covered his face with his long-fingered hands and felt fear turn his veins to ice. 'Flell,' he mumbled. 'Oh gods, Flell, how could you do this to me?'

His whole world was crumbling around him. Flell had betrayed him. His secret was out. Now Vrael knew. Now everyone knew. No matter what happened, from this day forth his life was over. He would never govern a city again, never become an elder, never lead an army into battle. His chance to try and undo some of the crimes of the riders was gone forever.

Now that the riders knew…

There was a stirring in the back of his mind, and Laela's voice said; 'Galbatorix? Galbatorix, can you hear me?'

Galbatorix lifted his head. 'I can hear you, Laela.'

There was a silence, and then Laela said; 'You lied to them. You lied in the ancient language.'

'I had to protect you, Laela. I can't… I can't let them hurt you because of me. Are you… where are you?'

'In the old dragon roost,' said Laela. 'Where sick dragons stay. There's no-one else here.'

Galbatorix stood up and looked over the balcony, trying to spot it. It was easy enough to find; a huge, flat-roofed building not too far from the towers. 'Laela,' he said. 'You have to get out of here. Get away. Now. They didn't make you swear an oath; you can escape.'

Laela shared a feeling of irritation. 'Galbatorix, you really are an idiot. I'm not going anywhere without you, and you know it.'

'Laela…' Galbatorix slumped down again, his head in his hands. 'Laela, it's hopeless. It's all up for me; I'm done for. There's nothing you can do to help me, so get out of here while you can. If they kill me… well, at least I'll die knowing you're safe. I can shut you out of my mind, stop you feeling it…'

He could feel a little twinge of despair from her, a sort of mental sob. 'I… I can't. I just can't. What would I do without you, Galbatorix? I couldn't live without you beside me. Where would I go? What would I do? I'd be lost. Even if I did survive your death. And I wouldn't. Everything that happens to you, happens to me.'

Galbatorix shuddered. 'Oh gods, Laela, I'm so sorry for all this. It's my fault we're in this situation.'

'I don't blame you,' she said softly. 'It's not your fault Flell did that. It's not your fault the elders… and who knows. We don't know they'll kill you. They wouldn't do that to one of their own. Maybe we'll be banished or something. I could live with that.'

After that her mental voice faded. Their link was too tenuous over that distance to last long without intense concentration, and both of them were too tired and strained to keep it up.

The sun moved slowly across the sky, and Galbatorix sat alone on the ice-white balcony, waiting. He was hungry and thirsty, but he made no move to go inside for food. It was cold, especially at that altitude. Autumn was coming.

Somewhere below him the elders were talking, deciding his fate. And Laela was waiting and worrying. He could feel her fear.

Hours dragged by, and no-one came. He watched the patrolling riders as they circled overhead. Occasionally one would pass close by the balcony, but they were the only other living thing he saw. After a time he took a piece of paper out of his pocket. The edges were ragged and the folds in it were grimy and creased from all the time it had spent in his pocket. He unfolded it yet again, but barely registered the words written on it. He'd read them so many times that they had become almost meaningless.

… Ingë Taranisäii, nineteen years old… Skandar Traeganni, of the race of the Dark Elves, age unknown. Sentenced to death…

His grip on the paper loosened, and the wind whipped it out of his hand and carried it away over the city's rooftops, to be lost like a snowflake in a storm.

There was the sound of footsteps from inside the tower. Galbatorix looked up sharply. The footsteps drew closer and he stood up, his heart pounding. This was it. They were coming for him.

The door to the balcony opened, and a familiar figure stepped through it.

It was Brom.

Galbatorix's eyes widened. 'Brom! What are you doing-?'

Brom slammed the door and ran straight toward him. 'Galbatorix, you've got to get out of here.'

'Why?' Galbatorix said sharply. 'What's going on?'

Brom had changed since their last meeting. He was taller, his face was more mature and there was a blue-bladed rider's sword on his back. 'No time,' he said quickly. 'I came to warn you. They're going to kill you, Galbatorix. I heard them. They're coming for you, right now.'

Galbatorix grabbed his arm. 'What about Laela? What did they say about her?'

The fierce command in his voice caught Brom off-guard. 'They're not going to kill her,' he said. 'They're going…'

'Tell me!'

'They're going to use magic on you,' said Brom. 'Both of you. They're going to sever the bond between you. And afterwards… afterwards you'll die the traitor's death.'

Galbatorix went cold. He knew all too well what that meant. It was the death meted out only to the vilest of betrayers – the most hideous punishment ever used by the riders. He would be hung by the neck until he was nearly dead. Then his entrails would be torn out and burnt before his eyes, and aftewards he would be torn into four pieces, his heart ripped out of his chest and shown to the crowd.

And it would happen to him only after he had lost the one thing he truly valued in life – Laela.

'You've got to run,' Brom said urgently. 'Now.'

But it was already too late. There was a crash as the door leading into the tower opened, and three young riders burst through it, swords drawn. Brom stood aside hastily, and Galbatorix froze, staring at them in horror.

The foremost of the three riders pointed at him. 'Arren Cardockson, you're to come with us. The elders have made their decision. Don't try and fight.'

Galbatorix looked at them, then at Brom, appealing to him with his eyes.

'I'm sorry, Galbatorix,' Brom said. 'There's nothing I can do.'

'Come with us,' one of the three riders said again.

Galbatorix backed away. 'Please,' he said. 'Don't do this.'

'I'm sorry,' said the other rider. 'But we have to obey the elders.'

There was no escape. Galbatorix reached out desperately for Laela, calling her name again and again. There was no answer.

The three riders advanced on him, reaching out to seize his arms. Galbatorix dodged them, holding up his hands. 'Please,' he said. 'I don't want to fight you. Just give me a chance.'

'There are no chances for traitors.'

Galbatorix's mind raced as he looked from one to the other, weighing up his chances. If he could get around them to the door, that would only trap him inside the tower where there would be dozens of others waiting for him around every corner. There was the slimmest of slim chances that he could fight his way out, but he refused to do that. He did not want to kill anyone. Not even to save his own life. But if he didn't do that, then he would be captured, and then he would die the traitor's death.

That left only one alternative. He looked at Brom, then at the other riders as they pointed their swords at him, and felt a strange calmness.

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'So sorry. For everything.' To Brom he said; 'Thankyou, Brom. You've been a friend to me. I'll… I hope you'll remember me well.'

'Galbatorix,' Brom began. 'Don't-,'

Galbatorix looked at him with resignation in those bottomless eyes. 'Goodbye,' he said again, and hurled himself off the balcony and into space.

Down in the city, there was a deafening crash as the roof of the dragon roost exploded into splinters and Laela burst through it. The white dragon shot straight upward like an arrow, shards of wood embedded in her wings. She made straight for the central tower in a blur of speed, heading right for the tiny black speck falling from its top. She intercepted it halfway down, then looped backward, turning on her back and then flipping over, flying away toward the city walls as fast as she could go, a dark, ragged bundle clasped tightly in her jaws.

The guard dragons, recovering from their shock, went in pursuit, closing in on her from all sides, but Laela was a dragon driven by a power stronger than mere muscle that day, and she outpaced them. She passed over the city walls and flew away over the countryside beyond, heading up into the clouds where her white scales made her nearly invisible.

The pursuit went on for several hours and into the night, but in the end the other riders lost sight of her and were forced to go back. Still, Laela did not stop flying, in spite of her pain and fatigue. Her wings were torn and she ached in every limb and muscle. Galbatorix hung limply from her jaws, and she could feel his own pain – clearly, he had not escaped the fall unscathed. She made no attempt to talk to him. All her energy went into staying in the air.

She didn't know where she was going at first, but once she had calmed down and slowed a little she thought quickly and turned herself toward the Spine. It was the only place she could think of where it was possible to hide.

Dawn came, and she was still flying. She avoided flying over settled areas, lest she be seen, and kept to the clouds.

As the sunrise made the sky slowly light up, Galbatorix stirred in her jaws. She felt his fear and renewed pain strike into her own mind, quickly followed by panic.

She reached into his mind. 'It's all right! It's all right, Galbatorix. I've got you. You're safe.'

He moved again, hurting himself on her teeth. 'Where… what happened? Laela?'

'You're all right,' Laela said again. 'We're getting away.'

He was silent for a long time. 'Am I… am I dead?'

Once she might have laughed at him, but not any more. 'No,' she said. 'You're alive. I caught you.'

'Where – where are we going, Laela?'

'To the Spine. We can hide there for a while. After that… I don't know.'

He stopped speaking then, and Laela flew on, not daring to stop, but fearing that he might be more badly hurt than she had realised.

By noon she had reached Dras-Leona, and flew over the lake to where the mountains of the Spine loomed. She landed at the very edge of the mountains, in some thick forest, and gently set Galbatorix down. He slid out of her jaws, landing in a crumpled heap on the ground. He made no attempt to get up.

Laela nosed gently at him. She knew he wasn't dead; she would have felt it if he'd died. But he wasn't moving. She could smell blood on him, and see it on his clothes, which were damp and torn. His eyes were closed.

Laela probed at his mind. 'Galbatorix, are you all right? Wake up!'

He didn't reply, but she saw his face twitch. He mumbled something, and his eyes opened slowly, looking up at her.

'Are you all right?' she said again, out loud.

Galbatorix's hands curled and uncurled gently, and he groaned. 'My chest,' he said. 'It hurts. I think…' he made an attempt to sit up, and pain instantly crackled through Laela's own chest. She cringed and touched him with her snout. 'Lie still,' she advised. 'You're hurt. Rest awhile. I'll keep watch.'

But he wouldn't. A new strength seemed to come into him, and he sat up sharply, taking hold of her snout to help him balance. He took one hand off her snout and began checking himself for injuries.

Laela watched. 'What is it?' she asked at length.

Galbatorix had been taught about wounds. 'My ribs are broken,' he said, his voice surprisingly calm. 'And I think my shoulder might be dislocated. And your teeth ripped me up a bit.'

'I'm sorry-,' Laela began.

'Oh, do shut up. I'll take a few cuts over being drawn and quartered any day.'

Laela grinned. 'Oooh, sarcasm. Now I know you're all right.'

She held him up while he healed his injuries one by one, lending him some of her strength when he needed it. Afterwards he was able to get up and walk around, and she knew he was all right.

'What happened in the tower?' Laela asked. 'Why did you jump?'

Galbatorix, who had been pacing around the little clearing they had landed in, halted. 'They were going to kill me,' he said. 'Brom… he warned me about what was going to happen to us, but they came for me, and I decided to jump. It would have been a better fate than the one the elders chose.'

'What was that?' said Laela, stiffening slightly.

'They were going to break our link,' said Galbatorix. 'They were going to use magic to separate us forever. And afterwards… they were going to execute me. The traitor's death. Hanging, drawing and quartering.'

Laela went cold. 'No! I don't believe it! How could they even think of it? Doing that to you? I…' she bowed her head, too shocked to know what to feel.

'I took the coward's way out,' Galbatorix said. 'Throwing myself off the tower… it would have been a quick death. For both of us. I could… if I'd had time, I would have asked you what to do. If I'd gone with them and let them do it, you would have been all right, at least.'

'No I wouldn't have. If it's a choice between losing you and death, I'll take death.'

'Well, you've still got me,' Galbatorix said dourly. 'I hope it was worth it. Because we're lost now. We got away from Ilirea, yes, but that only bought us some time. The riders won't stop until they find us, and when they do… we'll die. They'll kill you too for helping me escape. Where can we go now, Laela? The riders have got control over the whole country. Anyone who sees us will turn us in. What are we going to do?'

Laela twitched her tail with a determined expression. 'There has to be somewhere we can go. Maybe somewhere in the East. There's undiscovered country there… or over the sea. The riders can't be everywhere.'

Galbatorix sat down on a rock and massaged his temples. 'We're going to spend the rest of our lives as fugitives, you know. We'll never have a home again.'

'Well, that's something we're just going to have to put up with,' said Laela, with unexpected sharpness. 'Or would you rather die?'

Galbatorix reached up to his shoulder and touched White Violence's hilt. 'I've survived too much to die now. We both have. But I wish… if I got the chance to fight Vrael again, I'd take it. He took everything from me. From us.'

'Revenge? Forget it, Galbatorix. It's no good to us. Not now.'

'No…' Galbatorix let go of the sword hilt.

For a long time the two of them said nothing. Galbatorix sat and thought. Now that his fear and despair had died down somewhat, they were being replaced by rage and bitterness. After so much fear and doubt, so many triumphs, so much work, it had all come to this. He had been born without a place in the world but had climbed to the top of the heap, fighting his way past everything that got in his way in order to find one for himself. But after coming so far to get it, he had had it snatched away and been left even worse off than before. Before he had had nothing. Now he had less than nothing.

Once he had been a commoner, a nobody, a bastard half-breed orphan with no true family. But he had had a home, and parents of a sort, and a station in life. Now he was a traitor and a criminal, cast out by the riders, almost certainly with a bounty on his head already. All he had left were his sword and his life. And Laela, of course. That strengthened him a little.

Born cursed. He saw it truly now. From the moment he had been conceived, before he even drew his first breath, he had been cursed. A half-breed. An unnatural creature, an unwanted child born to doomed parents. He was no true human, and no true elf, and not even the riders, his adopted people, would accept him now his secret was known.

It was this curse, the curse that lived in his blood, that had made him so alone. He had no people to call his own.

And that was when an idea hit him. A wild, impossible idea.

He dismissed it at first, but it nagged at him, and the more he thought about it, the more he found himself unable to ignore it.

'Laela,' he said slowly. 'I have an idea.'

She looked at him. 'What is it?'

'My father's people,' said Galbatorix. 'It's said that there are still some dark elves left somewhere in Alagaësia. Why don't we look for them?'

Laela bared her teeth. 'Are you mad? Us? Go looking for dark elves, in a land where everyone is our enemy? For the love of gods, Galbatorix, use your head. They're gone. Nothing can bring them back.'

'But they're not all dead,' Galbatorix persisted, standing up. 'I read about it. The records say they were massacred and the survivors fled. Fled. And no-one found them. They must have gone into hiding somewhere.'

'Oh?' said Laela, with a kind of desperate, angry sarcasm. 'Oh really. And where did they go into hiding, then? Well? You know everything here, so where did they go?'

Galbatorix glanced up at the sky. 'North,' he said. 'They'll have gone North. Into the mountains beyond Du Weldenvarden. Into the Icelands. I can feel it in my blood.'

'But why look for them?' Laela said more gently.

'Because the dark elves are my people,' said Galbatorix. 'My kind. Maybe some of them are my family. I have to know, Laela. I have to find out if they're all gone. And we don't have anywhere else to go.'