Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Winds of Change

Later that night, Morzan sat in the office where Galbatorix had once worked and laboriously composed a letter to Vrael. Writing wasn't one of his strengths; his big rough fingers weren't suited to holding a quill, and his lettering was clumsy. And he never quite knew how to phrase things. But he persevered, and eventually completed the letter. It said, simply; "To my Lord Vrael. I have captured the fugitive Galbatorix Taranisäii and am currently holding him in the cells. What would you have me do with him? Signed, Morzan Drasborn, Governor of Teirm."

He read over it a couple of times, and once he was satisfied with it he folded and sealed it with the signet ring he'd been given. Once he had put it into the bag of messages bound for Ilirea, he sat back in his chair and tried to reassure himself that everything would be fine. He'd done what was asked of him. The Great Betrayer was in captivity, and as soon as he had been executed the elders would have nothing to be afraid of any more. And it would be all thanks to him, Morzan. Him, Morzan. Supposedly too stupid to ever go anywhere in life, the one people laughed at and called slow. He remembered elder Oromis' cold mockery. Big, blundering Morzan. Too thick-headed, too incompetent, too human.

Human. That was the thing Oromis had returned to most often. You're too human. You have no grace, no beauty, no wit. Too human.

Morzan's big hands clenched. Suddenly he found himself remembering that night, months ago, when he and Brom had defied their masters and helped their friend to escape the awful fate that awaited him. He remembered the way Galbatorix had looked at him, just before he vanished into the night. Stay human, he'd said. Don't become like them. Don't be an elf. Stay human. Always be human.

Be human.

When Morzan had first become a rider, he had thought it would mean that he would be respected. And he was, in a way. But ever since that day, he now saw, the other riders, the ones who had trained him, had been seeking to destroy something fundamental inside him. They had been trying to remove his humanity and make him become an elf. Once he would not have seen anything wrong with it, but now… he thought of the elves he knew, and suddenly felt disgusted. They were so… empty. Soulless. Their faces were beautiful, but all so eerily similar. Morzan didn't know what he believed any more. But he did know that he didn't want to be like that. And he couldn't stop thinking about Galbatorix and the shocked betrayal in his face as he was taken away by the guards.

Morzan stood up jerkily. Idün had been observing his thoughts, and now she said; 'Where are you going, Morzan?'

'I'm going to talk to him,' said Morzan, making for the door.

Idün was wary. 'You should be careful. Don't forget what he is.'

'I'm just going to talk to him,' said Morzan. 'There's no harm in just talking. I want to ask him some questions. And… I just want to see if he's all right.'

That surprised him a little. But when he thought about it he found that he was, in fact, concerned for his former friend. Galbatorix must know what lay in store for him, and Morzan couldn't imagine what that must be like.

He found Galbatorix in his cell. There were heavy manacles chaining his wrists to his waist that prevented him from lifting his arms. He was pacing back and forth on the other side of the bars, head low, like a great cat in a cage. Morzan noticed that his posture had changed; his shoulders hunched forward slightly and he moved with a kind of stalking, predatory tread which made him more like a big cat than ever.

When Morzan approached from the outside, he stopped and came closer, staring at him silently.

Morzan stood well back from the bars, his hand on Zar'roc's hilt. 'Hello,' he said cautiously.

Galbatorix watched him for a moment. 'Hello, Morzan,' he said evenly. 'I suppose congratulations are in order. You got me. You caught the Great Betrayer.'

'Look, I didn't want to do it,' said Morzan. 'I had to.'

Galbatorix shrugged. 'I understand. You're still bound by the oaths they made you take. I should have remembered that, but seeing a friendly face again after so long…' he sighed and fiddled with the manacles on his wrists, trying to stop them from chafing.

'I can't just break oaths like you do,' said Morzan, a little more coldly. 'And I can't let you go free. Not after what you've done.'

'I wouldn't trouble myself about it if I were you,' said Galbatorix. 'After all… considering everyone I ever cared about either died or turned on me, I hardly noticed it this time. And I'm sure you'll be rewarded for your trouble. Vrael won't be happy. He would have wanted to catch me himself, but instead the one who managed it was a lowly human. And not even a fully-trained one. He'll have a hard time swallowing that.' He snickered nastily.

'It's not about being rewarded,' said Morzan.

'Of course it isn't,' said Galbatorix. 'But that's a perk, isn't it? I'm sure this filthy bastard blood of mine could buy you plenty of favours. Gold, jewels, property, maybe even a place on the coucil of elders one day. Anything you could possibly want. And once you've put my head on a spike and sent my heart to Ilirea in a box for Vrael to gloat over, it'll all be yours. No more nonsense about not trusting you. You'll be a rider good and proper. The kind they like. With pointy ears.'

Morzan shifted uncomfortably.

'I know you meant part of what you said,' Galbatorix said softly. 'You said it in the ancient language. You hate the elders just like I do. Why?'

Morzan didn't reply.

'If you won't tell me that, at least tell me this,' said Galbatorix. 'What happened to my foster parents? I went back to my old home, and it was gone. Burnt down. What happened? Are they all right?'

'They're dead,' said Morzan. 'I'm sorry.'

Galbatorix showed no reaction. 'How?'

'They were murdered by their neighbours after you disappeared. They… they wanted the bounty on your head and they thought your foster parents were hiding you. Carina had already questioned them. They knew nothing. But their neighbours didn't believe it. Carina told me what happened. They were both beaten and hanged. And then someone set the house on fire a few weeks later. It burnt to the ground. We never caught the people who did it.'

Galbatorix shuddered and stared blankly at the floor, his chains clinking.

'I'm sorry,' Morzan said again.

Galbatorix looked up at him. 'Well,' he said a little hoarsely. 'That's how it is, isn't it? Whever I go, people die. Story of my life. And it looks like I'll be next. Tell me, Morzan, do you think people can be born cursed? Because I was. First my real parents, then Laela, and now this.'

Morzan hestitated. 'Can you tell me what really happened to you?' he asked. 'How did Laela die? No-one seems to know. Why were you all the way out North?'

Galbatorix looked at him. 'You don't know?' he said.

'No,' said Morzan. 'They're saying… well, you and Lanethial and someone else went out North on some adventure or other, and you got attacked by urgals, and Laela and the others died, but you escaped.'

Galbatorix gaped at him. 'What?'

'That's what they're saying,' said Morzan. 'That's the story the elders put about. They said you came back to Ilirea and demanded another dragon, then turned violent when they said no and ran away. But it's not true. I know it's not true. You wouldn't be stupid enough to go into urgal territory and let them catch you off-guard. And why would you have been with Lanethial or that other rider, whatshername? You hated Lanethial, and the other rider was older than you so you wouldn't have known her. And if it was just an accident, why did the elders lock you up like that and try to kill you? It doesn't make any sense. So what happened?'

Galbatorix was furious. 'Lies!' he almost shouted, and slammed his fist into the bars, wincing at the pain. He turned away and began to pace once more, mouthing dark elvish curses and wrenching at his chains.

Morzan watched him. He hadn't expected such a violent response, and it frightened him. But he waited until Galbatorix calmed down a little and returned to his spot on the other side of the bars.

'Lies,' he said again. 'All lies. Urgals? Urgals, kill Laela? No. It was Vrael's fault. Him and the other elders.' He began to speak in the ancient language. 'I was in the North because I ran away. Flell betrayed me. She told the elders I raped her. It was a lie. They were going to kill me. Didn't Brom tell you? He came to warn me, and Laela and I ran away. We went North to hide, but Vrael sent Lanethial after us. Him and the other rider. They killed Laela. Killed her. Shot her full of arrows. Tore her out of me.' He spoke quickly and jerkily, all his usual eloquence completely absent. 'But I survived. I killed them. Killed them both, right there. Left them dead there in the snow with Laela and walked back, trying to get home. Couldn't remember who I was. All I knew was pain. And they caught me and took me to Ilirea in chains. If you and Brom hadn't saved me, I'd be dead now. And now here I am, locked up again. And soon I'll die. You've killed me, Morzan. But there's hardly anything left of me to kill.'

He fell silent and turned away, and Morzan stared at him in shock.

After a long silence, Morzan said; 'But… why didn't… if Flell was lying, why didn't you tell them so in the ancient language? Why didn't they make her speak it?'

Galbatorix sneered. 'Why bother? It's so much easier to ignore those possibilities when you've already made up your mind about something. They hated me and they wanted to get rid of me, and with Flell telling those lies about me, it was so easy to do. Why would they want to know the truth if the truth isn't what they want to hear? No.' He sighed.

'But you can't kill them,' said Morzan.

'Why not?' said Galbatorix. 'Are you that blind, Morzan? No. You're not. And you're not stupid, either. You know about them. You know what they're like. What they do. You've read the records, haven't you? And you've seen things. I know you have.'

Morzan was silent.

'What did you see?' Galbatorix persisted. 'Tell me what you saw, Morzan. You hate the elders because of what you saw. So tell me… what is it?'

'I…' Morzan trailed off, visibly distressed. 'I can't.'

Galbatorix threw him a disgusted look. 'Fine. But sooner or later you're going to have to stop closing your eyes to the truth.' He shuffled away, hampered by his chains, and sat down on the bench in his cell.

Morzan turned to leave.

'Oh, Morzan?'

'Yes? What?'

'Could you do me a favour?'

'If I can,' Morzan said cautiously.

'Could I have a bath and a new robe, please? When they drag me to the gibbet, I'd rather not let people see me like this. If it's all the same to you.'

Morzan nodded. 'I'll see to it,' he said.

True to his word, on the following day Morzan had a tub of water and soap sent to Galbatorix's cell, along with a comb. Galbatorix had asked for a razor, but was denied one lest he use it to take his own life. But Morzan had a new black robe and trousers made for him, and took the trouble to ask for a specific design first out of sympathy to his former friend. Later, when he visited Galbatorix again, he found him looking much neater, his hair washed and combed. He'd managed to talk someone into giving him some scissors and had made an attempt to style his hair and beard, which had worked surprisingly well. The rags he'd worn before lay in a corner, and he was clad in the new robe, which did something to conceal how thin and worn he was. But he was also still manacled.

'Are you feeling better now?' Morzan enquired.

'Yes, thankyou,' said Galbatorix. 'It was very decent of you to do that, Morzan.'

Morzan shrugged. 'It's not much, but it was the best I could do for you. And… well, I still think of you as a friend, you know.'

Galbatorix showed a hint of surprise at that. 'Really?'

Morzan nodded. 'You an' Brom always just took me as I am. You never made me feel stupid. Flell used to tease me, but you never did.' He shook his head, suddenly sad. 'I never thought it'd turn out like this. Remember how happy we were in Ellesméra? All just kids. And now it's like this.'

Galbatorix sighed. 'Yes… Flell, losing her child. Me, turning into this sorry excuse for a human being and ending up behind bars. And you. You didn't escape either, did you? In fact, I think you're more of a victim than any of us.'

Morzan went cold. 'What d'you mean?'

'I think you know,' said Galbatorix, fixing him with a terrible, knowing stare.

After that Morzan stayed away from him. He threw himself into his duties as governor, trying his hardest to prove himself. It was tougher than he had expected, but he welcomed it. It was enough to distract him from his troubles, and he worked himself to exhaustion every day. But Galbatorix's presence remained at the back of his mind all the time, and his words stayed with him and would not leave him alone. You're more of a victim than any of us. You know, don't you, Morzan? You know.

Still Morzan stayed away. He couldn't bear the accusation that had been in Galbatorix's eyes. He told himself constantly that he had done the right thing, but nothing could make him believe it. And although he stayed away, he made sure that Galbatorix was well treated; ordering the guards to provide him with plenty of good food and blankets, and to make sure he had water to wash in whenever he asked for it, and to speak politely to him. It meant that, ironically, Galbatorix's time in this new prison was actually more comfortable than that spent in the crypt.

Months passed, and Morzan waited for the reply from Ilirea. When it finally arrived, he went down to the cells to break the news to Galbatorix personally.

Galbatorix was sitting down in his cell, reading a book, and greeted Morzan politely enough. He was looking a lot healthier now. He'd put some weight back on and was clean and fairly well-groomed. His hair was starting to grow back, and his face looked a little less hollow. 'So,' he said. 'What's the news?'

Morzan unfolded the letter. 'It's from Vrael. It says… "We are pleased to hear of your success. Carina has made a full recovery and has told us of your actions. You are hereby recalled to Ilirea where you will be given the opportunity to name your reward. Your orders regarding the captured traitor are to execute immediately in a manner you see fit."'

Galbatorix buried his face in his hands.

'So that's how it is,' said Morzan, with the strange feeling that his voice was coming from somewhere far away. 'I'm sorry, Galbatorix. They're building the gibbet outside now. We'll do it privately. Away from the crowds. I'll… I'll make sure it's quick. I promise.'

Galbatorix let out a long, weary sigh. 'Writing materials,' he said.

'What?' said Morzan.

'Bring me writing materials,' said Galbatorix. 'Paper, ink, and a quill. I have something I want to write. Please just do this for me. As a last request. If you won't let me go, then just do that for me.'

His voice was astonishingly calm, and Morzan marvelled that he could accept his fate so quietly. 'Of course I will,' he said. 'I'll be back in a few minutes.'

True to his word, he brought quills, ink and a sheaf of paper and passed them through the bars. Galbatorix took them. 'Thankyou,' he said.

Morzan watched him for a moment as he settled down to begin writing, and then silently left.

Alone in his cell, Galbatorix selected a piece of paper and dipped a quill into the ink. He paused, sighed, and began to write.

Skade,

By the time you read this, I will be dead. I am sorry that I broke my promise to you that I would stay alive for you. If I could have a single wish granted right now, it would be to see you again one last time. But I have no more time. In the morning they will drag me out to the gibbet and make an end to me. If I'm lucky it will be quick, but I don't seem to have any luck any more. In fact I'm tempted to say that I've never had anything but bad luck since the day I was born. But that would be a lie. Because, even though everything else has been a disaster for me, I met you, and that was a blessing that would make a hundred years of tragedy and despair worthwhile. I love you, Skade. That is all I have left, and it is enough to know that I will go to the gibbet with that precious treasure in my heart where they can never find it or take it away from me. I'm going to ask my friend Morzan to find you and give this letter to you. Don't blame him for what happened to me. The elders have him bound by oaths of loyalty that would kill him if he broke them. He didn't have any choice, but he did his best to make these last few days of my life comfortable.

I hope you're all right and that you found your father, and that you don't grieve for me any more than I deserve. I always tried to do the right thing, and at least I can hope that some small part of me will live on inside you. Even though people will curse my memory, you touched something inside me that I didn't know was there before, and it's something that gives me hope that perhaps, after all, I'm not as cursed as I once thought.

I love you, Skade. With all my heart.

Galbatorix Taranisäii.

When he was finished he folded the letter and cradled it to his chest, his heart aching with fear and loneliness. Skade. He longed for her to be there, to take him in her arms and tell him everything would be all right… even though it wouldn't. He wanted to see her golden eyes looking into his, feel her hands in his hair and her warm body pressed against him. He wanted to feel her love all about him, strong and fierce, and wild, like the spicy scent of her silver hair. But she was gone, and he knew he would never see her again. Like his parents. Like Flell. Like Laela. And Shruikan, too, who he had barely begun to know. His heart screamed out for them, but they were not there. He was alone, and death was coming for him.

Alone…

Morzan was also alone. He paced in his bedchamber, unable to sleep, tormented by guilt. It would be dawn in a few hours. This would be Galbatorix's last night on earth. And Morzan would be responsible for his death. Even though he knew he was innocent.

'What am I going to do?' he asked Idün, again and again.

The red dragon's sympathetic presence did only a little to comfort him. 'You can't do anything, Morzan,' she said softly. 'You can't go against your oath, you know that.'

'But it's not fair!' Morzan burst out. 'He's my friend! How can I let this happen to him? After so many awful things have already happened to him, and… it's not fair. They can't make me do this.'

'But you have to,' said Idün. 'You're a rider. Duty comes first, even before friendship.'

But Morzan could not shake off the feeling that, if he let Galbatorix die, he would be damned forever. He halted suddenly. 'No. It's not right. I can't let it happen. I need help.'

'From who?'

'I'm going to ask Galbatorix,' said Morzan. 'He knows things. Everyone says so. He knows secret things. I'll ask him. Maybe he can help me. And then I can help him.'

'Then go,' said Idün. 'But be careful. You're on dangerous ground, Morzan.'

But Morzan shook off his doubts and left the room. He went straight to the dungeons and along the corridor to Galbatorix's cell, and there he saw something that shocked him.

Galbatorix was huddled in a corner of his cell, his face in his hands, and to his utter disbelief Morzan realised he realised that his friend was doing something that he had never, ever imagined him doing.

Galbatorix was crying. His shoulders were shaking, and soft, broken sobs disturbed the echoing silence of the dungeon.

Morzan stood stupidly and watched him, feeling as if the ground had suddenly vanished from beneath him. Galbatorix, the most frighteningly calm and collected person he had ever met, was in tears. It was the world turned upside down.

But Morzan knew there was no time to waste. 'Hey,' he said softly. 'It's me.'

Galbatorix looked up sharply. There were tears on his face and his eyes were red-rimmed, but his gaze was still steady. 'Morzan,' he said tonelessly.

Morzan approached the bars, this time going as close as he could. 'Are you… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… are you all right?'

Galbatorix shuddered and twined his fingers into his hair, drawing himself back into the corner and wrapping his arms around his knees. 'I don't want to die,' he said huskily. 'I just… I'm scared, Morzan. I thought… you know, once… out there… somewhere in the wild, I tried to hang myself. There's still a mark on my neck. But now it's just… I'm so frightened. What if they're right, Morzan? What if you really do become nothing after you die? What if it's just blackness and emptiness? I don't want to go there, I don't want to be nothing. I want to be with Laela again, but if… if she's nothing now… I can't bear it, Morzan. There's just nothing but darkness everywhere, and so much pain… and Shruikan. He's going to feel me die, Morzan, he's going to feel it, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. He'll feel me die, just like I felt Laela die, and it'll be all my fault…'

'Shruikan?' said Morzan. 'The black dragon that was with you, is that who you mean?'

Galbatorix nodded distractedly. 'He bonded himself to me. Just before you found me. I was dying from where Carina stabbed me, but Shruikan bonded himself to me and saved my life. The poor little thing, he'd never seen the sky in his life and I kept him prisoner down there so he'd be safe, and he didn't trust me, but he saved me, and now… now he's going to feel what it's like to have his heart torn out of him. Just… right here.' He touched his chest, over his heart. 'It feels like… like a hundred years of torture, all at once. And afterwards you hurt so much inside you can't even think. And Shruikan… it'll kill him. Gods, Morzan, why me? What did I do wrong? I never wanted to hurt anyone, but I bring disaster wherever I go. I didn't want to be a destroyer, but I've already destroyed so much. Even you, Morzan, even you. Because of me you'll spend the rest of your life knowing you sent an innocent man to his death.'

Morzan gripped the bars, his head bowed with shame. 'It's wrong,' he said in a gruff voice. 'All wrong. What the elders did to you, what Vrael did… it was evil. I hate them. I hate them all for what they did to you. I don't want to do it, but they're forcing me to. Gods help me, Galbatorix, what can I do?'

Galbatorix shook his head. 'I don't know, Morzan. I just don't know.'

'Galbatorix, please help me,' said Morzan. 'I'm begging you.'

'I can't help you,' Galbatorix said bitterly. 'I can't even help myself.'

'They say you know things,' said Morzan. 'Things about magic no-one else knows. Do you know… is there a way to break an oath in the ancient language? You've done it. Everyone knows you did. You swore an oath, same as me, but you broke it and you're still alive. How? Can I do it too?'

Galbatorix was silent for a while, thinking. 'There is a way,' he said at length. 'I've never done it, but… there's three ways I know of.'

'Tell me,' Morzan urged.

'The first is to have the person you swore the oath to release you,' said Galbatorix. 'The second is… if you swear by something, but that thing is destroyed, your oath becomes invalid. And if you swear something on a condition but that condition is broken, then the oath is destroyed. And the last way is by magic. There's a spell I know that can set you free. But I'd need my magic back to do it.'

'Tell me the spell,' said Morzan. 'I'll do it myself.'

Galbatorix shook his head. 'It's not a spell just anyone can use,' he said. 'Only I have the power to make it work. If anyone else tried it, nothing would happen. But why do you want it anyway, Morzan? If you broke your oath you'd be an outcast forever. You'd be hunted down and then killed. Just like me.'

Morzan said nothing. He stood still, his heavy shoulders and powerful frame feeling weak and useless, his big hands opening and closing compulsively. He stared blankly at the gedwëy ignaesia on his palm, then turned and walked away without a word.

Galbatorix sat in silence for a long time after Morzan's departure. It was gone midnight, and the moon had risen outside the small barred window in his cell. He moved to sit in the shaft of silvery light, and closed his eyes, letting it touch his face.

A strange calm filled him then, and, scarcely realising what he was doing, he began to whisper the dark elvish funeral rites. 'Of earth born and in fire forged, by magic blessed and by cool water soothed, then to be blown away by a breeze in the night to a land of silver and bright flowers. May the gods receive the soul of Galbatorix Taranisäii of Teirm, last of his race. May he look down from the stars and may his wisdom embrace us. This I ask in the names of the lost gods, by the sacred light of the moon. From this day forth…' his voice trailed off and he bowed his head, letting the moonlight form itself into an image of a white dragon in his mind. 'I'm coming, Laela,' he mumbled.

After that he dozed, vague images of Laela flitting through his dreams. Even now he could not let her go.

He was woken up abruptly by a loud clank of metal, and raised his head sharply. It was still night, but the moon illuminated a bulky figure standing on the other side of the bars.

'It's me,' a voice hissed. 'Morzan. Come here, quick.'

Galbatorix stood up, his lithe frame unfolding in the gloom, and stepped forward to meet his friend. Morzan was warmly dressed and had Zar'roc on his back. His face was very pale, but Galbatorix hardly noticed any of that when he saw what was in his hands. It was a rider's sword with a long white blade and a silver hilt. A sword he knew very well.

Morzan held out White Violence. 'Here,' he said. 'Take it. We're leaving.'

Galbatorix blinked. 'What? I don't understand.'

'Take it!' Morzan hissed again. 'Quickly, we haven't got any time to waste.'

Galbatorix held his hands out and accepted the sword, grasping it awkwardly by the hilt. His wrists were still chained together.

Morzan took a key from his belt and unlocked the door. He stepped into the cell and drew Zar'roc. 'Hold out your hands,' he commanded.

Galbatorix obeyed. Morzan raised Zar'roc, and he turned his head away and braced himself. There was a faint metallic thump, and the chain linking his wrists to his waist suddenly went slack.

Morzan put Zar'roc back into its sheath. 'Come on,' he said. 'Take whatever you want and let's go.'

Galbatorix knew better than to waste time asking questions. He gathered up a few odd items and stuffed them into his pockets. White Violence was still in its sheath, the straps dangling from it. He refastened them around his shoulders, securing the weapon, and silently followed Morzan out of the cell. Morzan locked the door behind them and picked up a pair of heavy packs from the corridor, handing one to Galbatorix.

Galbatorix slung it on his back and looked to Morzan, who hurried off down the corridor, gesturing at him to follow.

Moving with surprisingly little noise given his bulk, the young rider led Galbatorix out of the castle and into the open air. They emerged in a deserted courtyard, and there Galbatorix breathed in deeply, savouring the night air. He looked at Morzan, utterly astonished. 'Why?'

Morzan shook his head. 'You're my friend, Galbatorix,' he said. 'If I'd killed you, I would've made a monster out of myself. Idün's waiting outside the city. We're going to run away. Go into hiding somewhere. I'm going to… I've decided to join you.'

Galbatorix blinked. 'Join me?'

Morzan nodded. 'Yes, yes, just like that,' he said feverishly. 'I'm your follower now. I'll do whatever you ask me to do. Look, see?' he indicated his ears. They were no longer pointed, and the tops were ragged, crusted with dried blood. 'I cut the tips off my ears, just like you. They'll never make an elf out of me. You're not alone any more, Galbatorix. You've got me, and Idün too. We'll fight beside you, and the elders will pay. I swear it.' He laid a hand on his broad chest and repeated, 'I swear it.'

Galbatorix stared at him. 'Do you really mean that?'

'Yes,' said Morzan. He held out a hand and spoke a string of words in the ancient language, and his magic dissolved the mental shackles in Galbatorix's head. Galbatorix blinked and rubbed his forehead, and Morzan knelt before him. 'Only set me free of my oath, and I'll take another oath,' he said, in the low fervent tones of a fanatic. 'And this time I'll swear to be loyal to you, Galbatorix.'

Galbatorix hesitated for only a few seconds. Then he held his hand out over Morzan's head and began to speak a dark elvish spell. The magic went to work, and he stood still, letting it drain the energy out of him. When it was done he lifted Morzan to his feet and said; 'There. You're free.'

'I know,' said Morzan, a gleam in his eyes. 'I could feel it. You set me free. And now I'll repay you.' He placed a hand on his chest and began to speak in the ancient language. 'I swear to serve you, Galbatorix Taranisäii,' he intoned. 'I will do your bidding at any cost, until I die or until you release me. I swear it by my heart, my soul and my blood.'

'You didn't have to do that,' said Galbatorix.

Morzan shook his head. 'But I did it anyway. Let's go.'

'Not yet,' said Galbatorix. 'There's a few places I want to visit first, if you don't mind.'

'Anything you say,' said Morzan.

Galbatorix nodded and loped away into the shadows. Morzan followed, and the two of them moved through the city in near-silence. Galbatorix knew exactly where he wanted to go. His despair was gone, and now a sense of calm and confidence was filling him. He was free. Better than free. He was no longer alone. Morzan had saved him for a second time, and would stay with him and help him fight.

And there would be others. He knew it. Others would come to him. Others who knew the truth as Morzan did. Others who wanted to be released from their vows and fight for justice. His quest to avenge Laela was not in vain.

They visited three places in the city that night. Morzan guided them to the newly-built wooden platform in the old training yard in the castle, where Galbatorix would have been put to death. There he gave Galbatorix a knife and kept watch while he climbed up onto the platform and carved a triple-spiral into the wood.

Galbatorix jumped down and gave Morzan back his knife. As the two of them made an exit, Morzan said; 'Why'd you do that?'

'I like to let people know when I've been somewhere,' Galbatorix answered. 'So they won't forget.'

Morzan didn't fully understand that, but he followed his new master through the streets, marvelling at how confidently he moved; sliding in and out of the shadows and making the darkened city his own. They came to a stop somewhere in the lower end of the city, where the more modest traders' houses were. There was a gap in the row of homes there, where a heap of rubble and charcoal were all that remained of what, Morzan realised, had once been the house Galbatorix grew up in.

Galbatorix climbed up onto the top of the heap, then bent and scratched at the ashes, apparently looking for something. He eventually found whatever it was, and began to dig. After a few moments he straightened up, holding a number of objects which he stowed away inside his robe. Then, standing there, his dark form sillhouetted against the half-moon, he began to mutter what sounded like some kind of ritual verse. His voice was low and Morzan only caught snatches of what he said. '…earth born… fire forged… wind… silver… flowers.' When he was done he had done he spread his right hand over the rubble and began to weave some kind of spell. Black energy moved over the shattered beams and crumbled bricks, and as Morzan watched, something moved. Something small and pale, and writhing, something that was quickly joined by dozens of others – thin, white, wormlike things. They thrust their way up out of the remains of the house and grew longer and longer, snaking over the heap up toward where Galbatorix stood. And as they grew they branched, and Morzan realised that they were plants.

The vines grew unnaturally fast, spreading over the ruins and covering it with fresh green leaves. Flowers budded and opened, glowing white in the moonlight, and when the movement finally stopped Galbatorix was surrounded by the blooms. He jumped down from his perch and rejoined Morzan. He bent and picked a couple of the magical flowers, and then straightened up. 'Let's go,' he said in a low voice.

By the time they reached the last place Galbatorix wanted to visit, it was nearly dawn. Morzan was nervous, but Galbatorix was calm. 'It's here,' he said, indicating a large building. Morzan, inspecting it, realised that it was the House of Taranis, its windows now boarded up.

Galbatorix opened a back door with magic, and they entered the house, passing through its cold halls and to the trapdoor, which still hung open, down into the crypts. There Galbatorix summoned up a magical light, illuminating the carved faces of his ancestors. Ignoring Morzan for the moment, he strode along the length of the chamber, pausing by each statue and muttering its name. The mess left by the fight had been cleaned up, and no trace of his old camp remained. Galbatorix returned to the entrance, and stood by the tomb of Ingë Taranisäii, head bowed. 'These are for you, Mother,' he said, and laid the flowers on the statue. 'A gift from your son. I'll remember you, and I'll honour you. I promise.'

Then he turned away. 'Only one last thing to do,' he said to Morzan. He stepped back a few paces and held out a hand. 'Reisa.'

There was a grating noise, and the stone slab that sealed the vault slowly lifted. Galbatorix set the slab down and jumped down into the pit beneath. The chests were still there, and he began to open them. 'Here, help me,' he said to Morzan.

Morzan joined him, and the two of them began to fill their pockets with treasure. Galbatorix suggested taking mostly jewels, which were lighter, but Morzan couldn't resist picking up a large gold ring and putting it on.

Galbatorix grinned at him. 'Keep it,' he said.

Once they had taken all they could carry, they closed the chests and climbed out of the vault. Galbatorix sealed it shut again, and they left the crypt without a backward glance.

When they reached the outside air again and re-locked the door, the sun was starting to come up. The shadows were slowly turning grey, and there was a hint of pink and yellow on the horizon. Without stopping to confer, Galbatorix and Morzan bolted. They ran through the streets of Teirm, avoiding any early risers, their breath misting in the cold air. Both were trained in the art of moving quietly, neither one panicked or acted incautiously. They left the city and vanished into the woods beyond. Safe.

Idün was waiting for them. She ran to meet Morzan, nuzzling him in the shoulder. He embraced her and stroked her neck, neither saying a word nor needing to.

Galbatorix watched them, feeling a deep ache in his chest. He reached out mentally, searching for Shruikan. And he found him. The black dragon's mind was full of fear, but his reaction to Galbatorix's mental contact was familiar and joyful. 'Galbatorix! You're alive! I tried to find you for so long… where are you?'

Galbatorix sent him an image of the spot. 'I'm safe,' he said. 'Morzan's helping us now. Come quickly, Shruikan. We're getting out of here.'

Morzan turned to him. 'Come on,' he said. 'Get on Idün's back. We can't stick around. They'll have realised you're gone by now. But they'll be a little slow to react without me there to tell 'em what to do.' He snickered at the thought.

Galbatorix nodded. 'But we should stay on the ground for little while,' he said. 'Until we're out of sight. We don't want anyone to see us in the air.'

Idün refolded her wings. 'A sensible suggestion,' she said. 'Then let's go.' The red dragon lumbered away, carefully avoiding the trees. Galbatorix and Morzan walked on either side of her shoulders, and the three of them made their escape as the sun rose. Galbatorix kept mental contact with Shruikan, guiding him as well as he could. 'Are you all right?' he asked.

'I'm not hurt,' said Shruikan. 'I kept hidden, like you said I should. I came out at night so no-one would see me. There's plenty to catch out here. I wanted to… I nearly left. I kept wanting to leave. But I didn't.'

They came to a stop once they were well away from the city, hiding among a rock formation at the edge of the Spine to rest. Idün and Morzan wanted to take to the air and make good their escape, but Galbatorix insisted on waiting for Shruikan.

They waited for some time, while the sun slowly climbed in the sky, and then a shadow suddenly fell across them. Galbatorix looked up, and there was Shruikan, large as life, perched on the rock above and looking down calmly through his silver eyes. He had grown a lot over the last few months, and was now about the size of a donkey. He had filled out, his chest and shoulders were broad and heavy, indicating a powerful adult to come. His wings were wide and well-shaped, their membranes pure white, but the rest of him was as black as ever. Black as the night sky. Black as a shadow. Black as Galbatorix's glittering eyes.

'Shruikan!' Galbatorix cried. 'There you are!'

Shruikan paused, then jumped down, catching himself with his wings and landing gracefully by Galbatorix's side. There was a certain wariness about the way he carried himself, and he was careful to keep away from Morzan and Idün, both of whom drew back nervously at the sight of him… but when Galbatorix reached out to touch him the black dragon put his head on one side and let him scratch his horns.

'A black dragon,' Idün rasped. 'Why didn't you say something sooner?'

Galbatorix and Shruikan looked at her, their eyes absolutely identical in expression. 'Shruikan is my partner,' Galbatorix said coldly. 'He bonded himself to me just as Laela did once. And if you'll accept me, you'll accept him. He saved my life.'

Morzan hesitated, then stepped forward, holding out a hand toward Shruikan. The black dragon withdrew, hissing, but Morzan stopped and bowed. 'Shruikan,' he said. 'My name is Morzan Drasborn, and it's an honour to meet you.'

Shruikan glanced at Galbatorix, and then lowered his snout to Morzan, saying nothing.

'Shruikan hasn't spent much time among other people,' said Galbatorix. 'And he's a little wild. Aren't you, Shruikan?'

Shruikan growled softly. There was a wildness about him that other bonded dragons did not have, that was plain enough. Idün, in spite of her size and strength, had a certain gentleness in her demeanour, and a peace. She was completely relaxed around humans, especially Morzan. But Shruikan was never still. He dug his black claws into the earth and kept darting his head this way and that to watch for danger, his wings half-spread in readiness to take to the air. But the wildness and ferocity about him matched Galbatorix's predatory stance and wary eyes perfectly. Morzan, watching them, felt strangely calm. He knew that he had done what was right now. The man he had bound himself to follow was not a raving lunatic, as so many people claimed. He was a leader; the most awe-inspiring and charasmatic leader Morzan had ever seen. Here, he thought, was what he had looked for in the elders but not found. Here was the one he wanted to follow. And he would do so, with all his strength. And others would do the same. He knew it.