The splashing of the fountain once more achieved prominence. Overhead, the light from the sinking sun picked out cracks and flaws in the underside of the stone shelf.

“What if we need your help?” she asked.

“Then I’ll help. I won’t abandon you, Nasuada. I’ll bind one of the mirrors in your study with a mirror of my own, so that you will always be able to reach me, and I’ll do the same for Roran and Katrina. If trouble arises, I’ll find a way to send assistance. I may not be able to come myself, but I will help.”

She nodded. “I know you will.” Then she sighed, unhappiness plain on her face.

“What?” he asked.

“It was all going so well. Galbatorix is dead. The last of the fighting has settled down. We were going to finally solve the problem of the magicians. You and Saphira were going to lead them and the Riders. And now … I don’t know what we’ll do.”

“It’ll sort out; I’m sure. You’ll find a way.”

“It would be easier with you here.… Will you at least agree to teach the name of the ancient language to whomever we choose to lead the magicians?”

Eragon did not have to think about it, since he had already considered the possibility, but he paused while he tried to find the right words. “I could, but in time, I think we would come to regret it.”

“So you won’t.”

He shook his head.

Frustration crossed her face. “And why not? What are your reasons now?”

“The name is too dangerous to bandy about lightly, Nasuada. If a magician full of ambition but lacking scruples got hold of it, he or she could wreak an incredible amount of havoc. With it, they could destroy the ancient language. Not even Galbatorix was mad enough to do that, but an untrained, power-hungry magician? Who knows what might happen? Right now, Arya, Murtagh, and the dragons are the only ones besides me who know the name. Better to leave it at that.”

“And when you go, we will be dependent upon Arya, should we have need of it.”

“You know she will always help. If anything, I would worry about Murtagh.”

Nasuada seemed to turn inward. “You needn’t. He’s no threat to us. Not now.”

“As you say. If your goal is to keep the spellcasters in check, then the name of the ancient language is one piece of information that is better to withhold.”

“If that is truly the case, then … I understand.”

“Thank you. There’s something else you should know as well.”

Nasuada’s expression grew wary. “Oh?”

He told her, then, about the idea that had recently occurred to him concerning the Urgals. When he finished, Nasuada was quiet for a while. Then she said, “You take much upon yourself.”

“I have to. No one else can.… Do you approve? It seems the only way to ensure peace in the long run.”

“Are you sure it’s wise?”

“Not entirely, but I think we have to try.”

“The dwarves as well? Is that really necessary?”

“Yes. It’s only right. It’s only fair. And it will help maintain the balance among the races.”

“What if they don’t agree?”

“I’m sure they will.”

“Then do as you see fit. You don’t need my approval—you’ve made that clear enough—but I agree that it seems necessary. Otherwise, twenty, thirty years from now, we may be facing many of the problems our ancestors faced when they first arrived in Alagaësia.”

He bowed his head slightly. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

“When do you plan on leaving?”

“When Arya does.”

“So soon?”

“There’s no reason to wait longer.”

Nasuada leaned against the railing, her eyes fixed on the fountain below. “Will you return to visit?”

“I’ll try, but … I don’t think so. When Angela cast my fortune, she said I would never return.”

“Ah.” Nasuada’s voice sounded thick, as if she were hoarse. She turned and faced him directly. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

She pressed her lips together, as if struggling not to cry. Then she stepped forward and embraced him. He hugged her back, and they stood like that for several seconds.

They parted then, and he said, “Nasuada, if you ever tire of being queen, or you want a place to live in peace, come join us. You’ll always be welcome in our hall. I cannot make you immortal, but I could prolong your years far beyond what most humans enjoy, and they would be spent in good health.”

“Thank you. I appreciate the offer, and I won’t forget it.” However, he had a feeling that she would never be able to bring herself to leave Alagaësia, no matter how old she was. Her sense of duty was too strong.

Then he asked, “Will you give us your blessing?”

“Of course.” She took his head between her hands, kissed him upon his brow, and said, “My blessings upon you and Saphira. May peace and good fortune be with you wherever you go.”

“And with you,” he said.

She kept her hands upon him for another moment; then she released him, and he opened the glass door and exited through her study, leaving her standing alone upon the balcony.

BLOOD PRICE

s Eragon made his way down a flight of steps on his way toward the main entrance of the building, he happened upon the herbalist, Angela, sitting cross-legged in the dark alcove of a door. She was knitting what appeared to be a blue and white hat with strange runes along its lower part, the meaning of which was lost on him. Next to her lay Solembum, his head propped up in her lap and one of his heavy paws resting atop her right knee.