Eragon [en]

— rich with spices and herbs — filled the air. Albriech and Baldor were there, talking with their mother as she kneaded bread. The brothers fell silent as they saw Eragon, but he had heard enough to know that they were discussing Garrow.

“Here, sit down,” said Horst, offering a chair.

Eragon sank into it gratefully. “Thank you.” His hands were shaking slightly, so he clasped them in his lap. A plate, piled high with food, was set before him.

“You don’t have to eat,” said Elain, “but it’s there if you want.” She returned to her cooking as he picked up a fork. He could barely swallow a few bites.

“How do you feel?” asked Horst.

“Terrible.”

The smith waited a moment. “I know this isn’t the best time, but we need to know... what happened?”

“I don’t really remember.”

“Eragon,” said Horst, leaning forward, “I was one of the people who went out to your farm. Your house didn’t just fall apart — something tore it to pieces. Surrounding it were tracks of a gigantic beast I’ve never seen nor heard of before. Others saw them too. Now, if there’s a Shade or a monster roaming around, we have to know. You’re the only one who can tell us.”

Eragon knew he had to lie. “When I left Carvahall...,” he counted up the time, “four days ago, there were... strangers in town asking about a stone like the one I found.” He gestured at Horst. “You talked to me about them, and because of that, I hurried home.” All eyes were upon him. He licked his lips. “Nothing... nothing happened that night. The next morning I finished my chores and went walking in the forest. Before long I heard an explosion and saw smoke above the trees. I rushed back as fast as I could, but whoever did it was already gone. I dug through the wreckage and... found Garrow.”

“So then you put him on the plank and dragged him back?” asked Albriech.

“Yes,” said Eragon, “but before I left, I looked at the path to the road. There were two pairs of tracks on it, both of them men’s.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out the scrap of black fabric. “This was clenched in Garrow’s hand. I think it matches what those strangers were wearing.” He set it on the table.

“It does,” said Horst. He looked both thoughtful and angry. “And what of your legs? How were they injured?”

“I’m not sure,” said Eragon, shaking his head. “I think it happened when I dug Garrow out, but I don’t know. It wasn’t until the blood started dripping down my legs that I noticed it.”

“That’s horrible!” exclaimed Elain.

“We should pursue those men,” stated Albriech hotly. “They can’t get away with this! With a pair of horses we could catch them tomorrow and bring them back here.”

“Put that foolishness out of your head,” said Horst. “They could probably pick you up like a baby and throw you in a tree. Remember what happened to the house? We don’t want to get in the way of those people. Besides, they have what they want now.” He looked at Eragon. “They did take the stone, didn’t they?”

“It wasn’t in the house.”

“Then there’s no reason for them to return now that they have it.” He gave Eragon a piercing look. “You didn’t mention anything about those strange tracks. Do you know where they came from?”

Eragon shook his head. “I didn’t see them.”

Baldor abruptly spoke. “I don’t like this. Too much of this rings of wizardry. Who are those men? Are they Shades? Why did they want the stone, and how could they have destroyed the house except with dark powers? You may be right, Father, the stone might be all they wanted, but I think we will see them again.”

Silence followed his words.

Something had been overlooked, though Eragon was not sure what. Then it struck him. With a sinking heart, he voiced his suspicion. “Roran doesn’t know, does he?”How could I have forgotten him?

Horst shook his head. “He and Dempton left a little while after you. Unless they ran into some difficulty on the road, they’ve been in Therinsford for a couple of days now. We were going to send a message, but the weather was too cold yesterday and the day before.”

“Baldor and I were about to leave when you woke up,” offered Albriech.

Horst ran a hand through his beard. “Go on, both of you. I’ll help you saddle the horses.”

Baldor turned to Eragon. “I’ll break it to him gently,” he promised, then followed Horst and Albriech out of the kitchen.

Eragon remained at the table, his eyes focused on a knot in the wood. Every excruciating detail was clear to him: the twisting grain, an asymmetrical bump, three little ridges with a fleck of color. The knot was filled with endless detail; the closer he looked, the more he saw. He searched for answers in it, but if there were any, they eluded him.

A faint call broke through his pounding thoughts. It sounded like yelling from outside. He ignored it. Let someone else deal with it. Several minutes later he heard it again, louder than before. Angrily, he blocked it out. Why can’t they be quiet? Garrow’s resting. He glanced at Elain, but she did not seem to be bothered by the noise.

ERAGON! The roar was so strong he almost fell out of the chair. He peered around in alarm, but nothing had changed. He suddenly realized that the shouts had been inside his head.

Saphira? he asked anxiously.

There was a pause. Yes, stone ears.

Relief seeped into him. Where are you?

She sent him an image of a small clump of trees. I tried to contact you many times, but you were beyond reach.

I was sick... but I’m better now. Why couldn’t I sense you earlier?

After two nights of waiting, hunger bested me. I had to hunt.

Did you catch anything?

A young buck. He was wise enough to guard against the predators of land, but not those of sky. When I first caught him in my jaws, he kicked vigorously and tried to escape. I was stronger, though, and when defeat became unavoidable, he gave up and died. Does Garrow also fight the inevitable?

I don’t know. He told her the particulars, then said, It’ll be a long time, if ever, before we can go home. I won’t be able to see you for at least a couple of days. You might as well make yourself comfortable.

Unhappily, she said, I will do as you say. But do not take too long.

They parted reluctantly. He looked out a window and was surprised to see that the sun had set. Feeling very tired, he limped to Elain, who was wrapping meat pies with oilcloth. “I’m going back to Gertrude’s house to sleep,” he said.

She finished with the packages and asked, “Why don’t you stay with us? You’ll be closer to your uncle, and Gertrude can have her bed back.”

“Do you have enough room?” he asked, wavering.

“Of course.” She wiped her hands. “Come with me; I’ll get everything ready.” She escorted him upstairs to an empty room. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you need anything else?” she asked. He shook his head. “In that case, I’ll be downstairs. Call me if you need help.” He listened as she descended the stairs. Then he opened the door and slipped down the hallway to Garrow’s room. Gertrude gave him a small smile over her darting knitting needles.

“How is he?” whispered Eragon.

Her voice rasped with fatigue. “He’s weak, but the fever’s gone down a little and some of the burns look better. We’ll have to wait and see, but this could mean he’ll recover.”

That lightened Eragon’s mood, and he returned to his room. The darkness seemed unfriendly as he huddled under the blankets. Eventually he fell asleep, healing the wounds his body and soul had suffered.

THE MADNESS OF LIFE