Chapter Fifty-Nine

Resurrection

Morzan barely slept that night. He had claimed an empty bedchamber for himself, but though the bed was comfortable and he was exhausted, he could not rest. He lay awake for hours, staring at the darkness, and from time to time he dozed, only to wake up with a jolt of panic. When he finally did sleep, he had nightmares. He was back in the elders' cave, unable to move, pain tearing at him, his ears full of screams. He could hear the voices of everyone he had ever known, screaming his name, pleading with him, cursing him. And above them, drowning them out, was the sound of Galbatorix's mad laughter.

He woke up drenched in sweat, his mind screaming out for Idün.

The red dragon answered almost instantly. 'Morzan!'

Morzan sat up in bed, breathing rapidly. 'Idün…'

'I'm here, Morzan. I'm here. It's all right.'

But it wasn't, and he knew it. He got out of bed, moving slowly and jerkily, realising as he did so that he was still fully dressed. He hadn't even taken off his boots. Zar'roc's scabbard was still strapped to his back, though the sword itself was leaning against the bedside table. He picked it up and left the room, still calling for Idün. He climbed several flights of stairs until he reached the balcony where she had settled down. She turned toward him as he emerged from the tower, but said nothing.

Morzan sat down between her forelegs, huddling against her massive, scarred chest, and she held onto him, growling softly. 'Rest now,' she told him. 'You need sleep.'

'I can't,' Morzan mumbled. 'I don't… I…'

'Sleep,' Idün soothed.

Morzan tried to protest, but she widened the channel between their minds and gently fed him a feeling of deep peace and tiredness. It calmed him, and he sighed and let his eyelids droop. A few moments later, he was asleep. Idün, cradling him against her chest, lay still in the darkness, watching over him.

Morzan slept a few hours, and this time his sleep was mercifully dreamless. When he woke up, some hours after dawn, Idün was asleep. He got up, careful not to disturb her, and went inside.

He found his way to the dining room on that level, and found Vander there, chewing listlessly at some bread and cheese. The skinny man glanced up as he entered, but looked away without saying a word.

Morzan sat down opposite him, and Vander wordlessly pushed some bread toward him. He ate it without really tasting it, staring at the tabletop.

'Did you sleep?' Vander asked eventually.

Morzan shook his head.

'I don't think any of us did,' said Vander. 'I've… I checked on Tranah. She's sleeping now. Orwyne's watching her. We thought she might…'

'Carina was her sister,' said Morzan. 'I knew her in Ellesméra. She was a good person.'

'Some of those riders might have joined us,' said Vander. 'They never… he never gave them that chance.'

'Where is he?' said Morzan. 'Have you seen him?'

Vander shook his head.

'Maybe we should… maybe we should look for him.'

Vander sighed and put down his food. 'Yes,' he said. 'We should. He's still our leader. Our oaths still stand.'

Morzan stared out of the window. 'But he could be anywhere,' he said.

'Shruikan's still in the elders' cave,' said Vander. 'He'll know.' He stood up.

'I don't trust that dragon to help with anything,' Morzan growled. 'He's vicious.'

Vander gave him a weary look. 'I don't think-,' he began.

They heard shouts in the corridor outside, and looked sharply toward the door. Morzan got up and hurried to open it, but before he had reached it it opened from the other side and Tuomas burst in, white-faced. 'Sir!' he said, seeing Morzan. 'Sir, I-,'

'Stop that,' Morzan snapped. 'What's up with you?'

Tuomas was trembling. He hunched over slightly, panting. 'Sir, I think something awful's happened,' he said. 'I think…'

Vander came toward him. 'What's happened, Tuomas? Calm down and tell me.'

'I'll show you,' said Tuomas, turning and hurrying out.

Vander and Morzan jogged after him. 'Where is it?' said Morzan.

'It's in the catacombs,' Tuomas called as he broke into a run.

He led them down the endless flights of stairs inside the tower at high speed. They saw very few people along the way; most of the rebel army was occupying the other towers, having more or less deserted this one out of fear of what they thought could be inside it. Morzan and Vander both wanted to ask questions, but Tuomas, who had always been the most athletic of the three apprentices, outpaced them, forcing them to expend all their energy on just keeping up. He didn't stop until he reached the door to the catacombs, which was hanging half-open.

Morzan caught up with him shortly after Vander did, and stopped to catch his breath. 'What the hell's going on, Tuomas?' he gasped.

Tuomas' face was a picture of anxiety. 'Well, I… I came down here this morning. To pray at dawn, like Roland taught me. And I found something. I don't know if – if it means – anything, but I just… I got scared and came to find you.'

'Show me,' said Vander.

Tuomas nodded and ducked through the door, muttering a light-spell that enveloped him in a yellow glow. Vander and Morzan followed, summoning up their own magical illumination to guide them down the staircase into the crypt.

Tuomas led them to the bottom of the stairs and into the first of the chambers, right to the end, and there he halted by something lying on the floor. Morzan came to see it. A white-bladed sword with a silver hilt, set with a black diamond and engraved with a triple-spiral.

'Lord Galbatorix's sword,' Tuomas said in a low voice.

Morzan picked it up. 'Why would he leave it down here? He never lets it out of his sight.'

Tuomas shook his head. 'Look at that,' he said, pointing at the opposite wall.

Morzan looked. 'It's just another tomb,' he said blankly.

'But look at the carving,' said Tuomas.

Vander moved closer, peering at the stone. He became still. 'It looks just like…'

'Like who? What in hell are you going on about?' said Morzan.

Vander gestured at him to come closer. 'Look at that,' he said.

Morzan impatiently examined the carving for a moment, and then he stilled. His heart seemed to slow in its beating. 'Vander, that's-,'

Vander nodded slowly. 'He looks different with a beard, but it's him. Look.' He touched the name carved beside the image. '"Arren Cardockson". It's his tomb.'

'But it's closed,' said Morzan. 'Why would it be closed?'

Vander only stared at him.

Morzan's expression changed. 'Oh gods.'

Without another word, the two of them started to scrabble desperately at the stone slab, trying to pull it out. But it was set perfectly into place, so tightly that the join was barely visible. Morzan shoved Vander out of the way and stepped back, holding out his hand. 'Reisa!' he barked.

Slowly – painfully slowly – the slab moved toward him, lifting out of its place with a grinding of stone on stone. Before Morzan had even put it aside, Vander was already on his knees, peering into the space beyond. 'Xanathus mu trieto,' he breathed.

Morzan dropped the slab against the opposite wall and rushed to join him. He and Tuomas crouched by the open tomb, letting their light show them what was inside.

Galbatorix lay curled up on his side, his pale face turned toward them. One hand rested on the floor by his chin and the other one was clutching a small wooden comb. His eyes were closed, and he wasn't moving.

'Is he… dead?' Tuomas faltered.

Vander reached out to touch him, but withdrew. 'He must have suffocated,' he said dully.

'But why?' said Morzan. 'How did he get in here?'

'Isn't it obvious?' Vander snapped, impatient with him for almost the first time since they had met. 'He sealed himself in here after we left. He must have been lying here all night.'

'Why would he have done that?' said Tuomas.

'I don't know,' said Vander. 'Maybe he wanted to die.'

Morzan straightened up. 'What are we going to do?'

'Tell the others, I suppose,' said Vander.

Morzan stared at Galbatorix's cold body. 'You godsdamned coward,' he whispered. 'You bloody coward. First you lie to us, and then you bail out on us.' He stood up and turned away, shaking his head. 'How could he do this to us? How could…? I trusted him. Trusted him like he was my brother. And then he goes and does…'

'But we still needed him,' said Vander. 'The whole country did.'

'What are you talking about?' Morzan demanded.

'Morzan, he was our leader, no matter what else he was,' said Vander. 'Of all the riders left alive, he was the only one capable of taking Vrael's place. The people wanted him to lead. He was the natural choice. And now he's gone, the whole country will fall into chaos. It needs a ruler. Without one, there'll be anarchy.'

Morzan's fists clenched. 'We'll just have to find someone else.'

'Who?' said Vander. 'You? Me? Orwyne? Maybe Roland could have done it, but…'

Tuomas didn't want to be caught up in the argument that was threatening to break out. He stayed where he was as the two older riders carried on at each other, not certain of what to do. He wanted to leave but they were in the way, so he stayed crouched awkwardly by the tomb, staring at Galbatorix's body, still not quite able to believe what had happened.

He had seen death before, naturally, and by now the sight of a dead body was practically mundane, but this was different. The bodies he had seen the night before were not just those of some faceless enemy, and nor was this. He stared at his master's white face, not quite able to grasp the idea that he was gone forever. Kaelyn had died, and Gern, and Roland, and so many others, but somehow the idea that Galbatorix could die had never really occurred to Tuomas, even when he had seen him wounded. After his miraculous escape at Gil'ead, he had become invincible in the eyes of his followers. From time to time Tuomas had even wondered if the stories told about him by the common people were true, and that he really was unkillable. But he was dead now, just like the others, and Tuomas knew he would have to accept it. You cannot deny death, Roland had once told him. Just as you cannot deny life. Not even a mountain is eternal, and we are rather less so.

Tuomas shuddered, fighting back tears. He forced himself to look at Galbatorix again. 'Goodbye, Master,' he whispered, and reached out to touch his hand.

The instant he made contact, he yelped and pulled away.

Neither Morzan nor Vander noticed. '-Well, you tell them what the hell you like,' said Morzan, dangerously close to violence. 'I've had enough. I'm out of here. Idün and me are leaving this godsforsaken country, and good luck to the rest of you, because-,'

'Sir!' Tuomas shouted. 'Sir, come here-!'

Morzan turned on him. 'What?' he snarled.

Tuomas' eyes were wide. 'Sir, he's not dead,' he said.

'What?' Morzan said again.

Tuomas looked at Vander. 'Sir, Vander, he's not dead.'

Vander came to join him. 'Tuomas, I really don't think-,'

'Vander, he's alive,' Tuomas said again. 'Touch him – check his pulse.'

'Tuomas, there's no way he can be alive,' said Vander. 'He's been in there all night without air.'

'I'm telling you I felt a heartbeat!' Tuomas insisted. 'He's not dead – look, damn it, look!'

Galbatorix's eyelids were twitching. Even as Vander pulled back, wide-eyed with fright, he groaned and moved his hand.

Tuomas reached into the tomb and shook him by the shoulder. 'Master! Master, wake up!'

Galbatorix was still for a moment, but then his mouth opened and he sucked in a great gasp of air. His entire body jerked once and he started to cough violently, turning over onto his front. Morzan was there instantly. He grabbed his leader by the arm and dragged him out of the tomb with one powerful heave, and Galbatorix slumped on his back on the floor, coughing. His eyes opened and he scrabbled at the floor, trying to get up.

Vander crouched beside him. 'Sir! Sir, calm down, it's just us.'

Galbatorix, breathing heavily, subsided onto the floor. 'What – what-?'

'It's Vander,' said Vander. 'Just rest a moment.'

But Galbatorix wouldn't. He got up after a few more tries and some help, and leaned against the wall behind him, his breathing fast and ragged. He put a hand to his chest. 'I feel like… something heavy… in here. What – what's going on?'

Morzan was gaping at him. 'Sir?' he said.

Galbatorix looked at him. 'Morzan? What's – what's wrong?'

Vander grabbed his hand, pulling the sleeve away to touch his wrist. Galbatorix didn't try and resist, and watched with a slightly bemused expression as Vander laid two fingers on his wrist and kept them there for a few moments, apparently listening for something.

'Vander, what in the world are you doing?'

Vander let go and took a few steps backward. 'Your… your heart's beating.'

'Is it? That's a relief.' Galbatorix looked at the open tomb, and suddenly stilled. 'Vander, what happened? Where have I been?'

Morzan finally found his voice. 'Sir… you're…'

'I'm what?'

'You're alive.'

Galbatorix said nothing for a long time. 'Yes,' he said eventually. 'So it would seem. Why am I down here?'

'You don't know?' said Vander.

Galbatorix looked at the tomb for a while. 'I was in there, wasn't I? Yes… I remember that.'

'We found you in there, Master,' said Tuomas. 'We thought you were dead.'

'Sir, how long were you in there?' said Vander.

Galbatorix fiddled with his hair. 'I don't know,' he said. 'What day is it?'

'It's tomorrow,' said Vander. 'Well past dawn.'

'Oh.'

'Sir, what were you doing in there?' said Morzan.

Galbatorix stared at the floor. 'I was… saying goodbye,' he said.

'To who?'

'To someone I knew once. Or thought I knew. But it doesn't matter. He's dead now. Morzan, are… how are the others?'

'Tranah's asleep, I think,' said Morzan. 'Haven't seen her yet. Orwyne's with her.'

'What about you? And you, Vander? And you, Tuomas?'

'I'm all right,' Tuomas mumbled. 'I suppose.'

'I think I'll be all right, sir,' said Vander.

Galbatorix looked at Morzan. 'And you?'

'Fine,' Morzan said curtly.

Galbatorix looked at him for a moment, and they could see that the blank, empty look that had been in his eyes on the previous night had gone. He was alive. More than alive. Their leader had come back to them.

But Galbatorix quickly looked away. 'I've made a terrible mistake,' he said in an undertone, staring at the floor. 'And I know… I know no-one will ever forgive me for it, and that includes myself. If I thought apologising would fix it, then I would. But I know it won't. There's nothing I can ever do to reverse it, and I know it.'

'What are you going to do now, sir?' said Vander.

Galbatorix saw his sword, lying on the floor where Morzan had dropped it. He held out a hand, and the weapon shot upward into his grasp. He stared at it for a moment, and then put it into its sheath, moving with a new resolve. 'I'm going to do what I was born to do,' he said. 'The only thing I have left. I am going to hunt down Vrael, and I am going to kill him.'

Without waiting for an answer, he turned and began to walk away from the still-open tomb, and they could see that he still had his old grace.

Vander, Morzan and Tuomas followed him automatically. 'You're not leaving now, are you?' said Vander.

Galbatorix paused at the bottom of the stairs. 'Yes,' he said, and started to climb them.

Vander caught up with him at the top. 'Sir, d'you really think that's a good idea?'

Galbatorix glanced impatiently at him. 'Yes, Vander, I do.'

'But… well, shouldn't you take someone with you?' Vander mumbled.

Galbatorix laughed bitterly. 'Why? For protection? Because I might die?'

'Well, yes,' said Vander.

'Vander,' said Galbatorix. 'If I died, no-one would care. And I don't think I would either.' He strode off without another word, his blood-stained robe swirling behind him.

Vander, Morzan and Tuomas stayed by the door, watching him go.

Morzan glanced at Vander. 'Aren't you going to go after him?'

'Well, why don't you?' said Vander.

'It's not my fight,' said Morzan. 'And he doesn't want me to come. And I don't want to come either. I've murdered enough people.'

'But he might need your protection,' said Vander.

Morzan only snorted. 'He needs me about as much as he needs an extra head. Let him go. If he ever shows his face here again….'

'You'll do what?' said Vander.

Morzan didn't answer. He hesitated, muttered and then walked off.

Tuomas watched him go. 'What happens now, sir?' he asked in a small voice.

'I don't know, Tuomas,' said Vander. 'I thought I did, but now… I suppose all we can do is wait.'

'And what do we do while we're doing that?' said Tuomas.

Vander shrugged bitterly. 'Our duty, of course.'

Galbatorix found Shruikan waiting for him outside the tower. The black dragon had sensed his coming and flown down to meet him, and when he saw him he came to him and nuzzled his shoulder affectionately – something almost completely out of character for him. 'Galbatorix. I missed you.'

Galbatorix scratched Shruikan's brow ridge. 'I'm glad I met you, Shruikan. You know that, don't you?'

'Yes. I know it. Are you better now?'

'As much as I'll ever be, I think.'

Shruikan growled. 'You're still troubled. What is it?'

'They hate me, Shruikan. I can feel it. I betrayed them. It's my fault – what happened last night… it was all my doing, and they know it.'

'It wasn't your fault,' said Shruikan. 'It was Glaedr's. Don't they know that?'

'No. It was my fault. The spell was already killing the prisoners before Glaedr came. We could feel it happening. I didn't know, Shruikan. I knew it would kill them, but I didn't… I never… I lied to them. Lied to their faces. I told them it wouldn't kill them. I betrayed the people closest to me. I betrayed…'

Shruikan whined softly. 'What are you going to do?'

'There's nothing I can do. They were right. They were right about me, Shruikan. Everything people said about me was true. I am a monster.'

'You're not,' Shruikan said fiercely. 'Don't ever say that, Galbatorix.'

'No, Shruikan. I can see it now. A monster is what I am and a monster is what I'll always be. But it doesn't matter any more. We have one last fight left before we can rest. One last thing left to do before it's all over. And after that it won't matter where we go or what we do any more. Arren Cardockson is dead now. I said goodbye to him forever, last night. He'll rest forever in the catacombs, with Laela. He's gone, and only Galbatorix is left. And Galbatorix was born to fulfil one purpose alone.'

'Vrael,' said Shruikan.

'Yes. Will you help me, Shruikan?'

Shruikan crouched low. 'Get on my back,' he said.

Galbatorix climbed into the saddle and secured himself in place. He felt Shruikan tense under him, his powerful muscles bunching before he took off, flying straight upwards from the ground and circling over the city before he left it, heading out over the countryside and away.

In the legends that would be told one day about the life of Galbatorix Taranisäii, the storytellers would nearly all make the same claim about his last, solitary hunt for Vrael. According to them, he found his old master's hiding-place within two days – flying straight for it as if he somehow already knew where it was. Some claimed that an elf, made bitter by Vrael's failure to destroy the rebels, betrayed him to his enemy. Others said that Galbatorix discovered his whereabouts in a dream, or that he used forbidden magic to unearth it.

In fact, it was far less straightforward and mysterious than that. Galbatorix and Shruikan flew over Alagaësia for over a week, moving from place to place, stopping at every town and village to ask the locals if they had seen a white dragon. Those who Galbatorix spoke to would describe him to their grandchildren; a tall, thin young man, barely into his twenties, his voice and gaze full of terrible authority, who carried an aura of fear and dread about him, as if he were marked by some curse as dark as his eyes.

Few people had the courage to refuse to help him. Those who had no information for him gave him food and shelter, some out of fear and others out of genuine respect.

For a long time, however, it seemed there was no trail for Galbatorix to follow. He spoke to dozens of people, but the only information he got was frustratingly vague. A few rumours, brief sightings, various theories, but nothing concrete, nothing that suggested a clear route to take. He kept on doggedly, steadily quartering the country, bit by bit, asking questions, flying through day and night, endlessly watching the skies. Nothing. And then, at last, having reached the edge of Ellesméra after over seven days of constant travelling, he stopped at a tiny village called Tärlee. He made camp at the outskirts of the little cluster of huts that made up the village, and washed his robe in the stream. While he sat by the black fire he had lit, combing his hair while his robe dried over the flames, he saw a man standing at the edge of his camp, glancing nervously at Shruikan.

'Come here,' Galbatorix told him. 'You're safe.'

The man hesitated, and then came toward him. 'My Lord,' he said. 'Are you…?'

'Yes,' said Galbatorix. 'I am Galbatorix. What do you want?'

'They say you're hunting for L- for Vrael,' said the man.

Galbatorix nodded. 'Do you have information for me?'

The man glanced over his shoulder, and then lowered his voice. 'I know where he is, my Lord. The whole village knows. He came here two months ago and told us to keep it a secret. People have been taking food to him, but we all knew you would come here in the end to look for him. I decided to help you.'

Galbatorix stood up. 'Where is he?'

The man took in a deep breath. 'Not far from here. He's at a place called Einn-Viđr Fell. We call it One-Tree Hill.'