Saphira interrupted Eragon’s thoughts.
Eragon’s eyes widened.
Eragon kept that in mind as he said carefully, “Saphira and I just realized something. You can use this magic, can’t you? That’s how you started the fire our first day on the plains.”
Brom inclined his head slightly. “I am proficient to some degree.”
“Then why didn’t you fight the Urgals with it? In fact, I can think of many times when it would have been useful — you could have shielded us from the storm and kept the dirt out of our eyes.”
After refilling his pipe, Brom said, “Some simple reasons, really. I am not a Rider, which means that, even at your weakest moment, you are stronger than I. And I have outlived my youth; I’m not as strong as I used to be. Every time I reach for magic, it gets a little harder.”
Eragon dropped his eyes, abashed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” said Brom as he shifted his arm. “It happens to everyone.”
“Where did you learn to use magic?”
“That is one fact I’ll keep to myself... Suffice it to say, it was in a remote area and from a very good teacher. I can, at the very least, pass on his lessons.” Brom snuffed his pipe with a small rock. “I know that you have more questions, and I will answer them, but they must wait until morning.”
He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Until then, I will say this to discourage any experiments: magic takes just as much energy as if you used your arms and back. That is why you felt tired after destroying the Urgals. And that is why I was angry. It was a dreadful risk on your part. If the magic had used more energy than was in your body, it would have killed you. You should use magic only for tasks that can’t be accomplished the mundane way.”
“How do you know if a spell will use all your energy?” asked Eragon, frightened.
Brom raised his hands. “Most of the time you don’t. That’s why magicians have to know their limits well, and even then they are cautious. Once you commit to a task and release the magic, you can’t pull it back, even if it’s going to kill you. I mean this as a warning: don’t try anything until you’ve learned more. Now, enough of this for tonight.”
As they spread out their blankets, Saphira commented with satisfaction,
MAGIC IS THE SIMPLEST THING
“Why do you think those two Urgals were still in Yazuac?” asked Eragon, after they had been on the trail for a while. “There doesn’t seem to be any reason for them to have stayed behind.”
“I suspect they deserted the main group to loot the town. What makes it odd is that, as far as I know, Urgals have gathered in force only two or three times in history. It’s unsettling that they are doing it now.”
“Do you think the Ra’zac caused the attack?”
“I don’t know. The best thing we can do is continue away from Yazuac at the fastest pace we can muster. Besides, this is the direction the Ra’zac went: south.”
Eragon agreed. “We still need provisions, however. Is there another town nearby?”
Brom shook his head. “No, but Saphira can hunt for us if we must survive on meat alone. This swath of trees may look small to you, but there are plenty of animals in it. The river is the only source of water for many miles around, so most of the plains animals come here to drink. We won’t starve.”
Eragon remained quiet, satisfied with Brom’s answer. As they rode, loud birds darted around them, and the river rushed by peacefully. It was a noisy place, full of life and energy. Eragon asked, “How did that Urgal get you? Things were happening so fast, I didn’t see.”
“Bad luck, really,” grumbled Brom. “I was more than a match for him, so he kicked Snowfire. The idiot of a horse reared and threw me off balance. That was all the Urgal needed to give me this gash.” He scratched his chin. “I suppose you’re still wondering about this magic. The fact that you’ve discovered it presents a thorny problem. Few know it, but every Rider could use magic, though with differing strengths. They kept the ability secret, even at the height of their power, because it gave them an advantage over their enemies. Had everyone known about it, dealing with common people would have been difficult. Many think the king’s magical powers come from the fact that he is a wizard or sorcerer. That’s not true; it is because he’s a Rider.”
“What’s the difference? Doesn’t the fact that I used magic make me a sorcerer?”
“Not at all! A sorcerer, like a Shade, uses spirits to accomplish his will. That is totally different from your power. Nor does that make you a magician, whose powers come without the aid of spirits or a dragon. And you’re certainly not a witch or wizard, who get their powers from various potions and spells.
“Which brings me back to my original point: the problem you’ve presented. Young Riders like yourself were put through a strict regimen designed to strengthen their bodies and increase their mental control. This regimen continued for many months, occasionally years, until the Riders were deemed responsible enough to handle magic. Up until then, not one student was told of his potential powers. If one of them discovered magic by accident, he or she was immediately taken away for private tutoring. It was rare for anyone to discover magic on his own,” he inclined his head toward Eragon, “though they were never put under the same pressure you were.”
“Then how were they finally trained to use magic?” asked Eragon. “I don’t see how you could teach it to anyone. If you had tried to explain it to me two days ago, it wouldn’t have made any sense.”
“The students were presented with a series of pointless exercises designed to frustrate them. For example, they were instructed to move piles of stones using only their feet, fill ever draining tubs full of water, and other impossibilities. After a time, they would get infuriated enough to use magic. Most of the time it succeeded.
“What this means,” Brom continued, “is that you will be disadvantaged if you ever meet an enemy who has received this training. There are still some alive who are that old: the king for one, not to mention the elves. Any one of those could tear you apart with ease.”
“What can I do, then?”
“There isn’t time for formal instruction, but we can do much while we travel,” said Brom. “I know many techniques you can practice that will give you strength and control, but you cannot gain the discipline the Riders had overnight. You,” he looked at Eragon humorously, “will have to amass it on the run. It will be hard in the beginning, but the rewards will be great. It may please you to know that no Rider your age ever used magic the way you did yesterday with those two Urgals.”
Eragon smiled at the praise. “Thank you. Does this language have a name?”
Brom laughed. “Yes, but no one knows it. It would be a word of incredible power, something by which you could control the entire language and those who use it. People have long searched for it, but no one has ever found it.”
“I still don’t understand how this magic works,” said Eragon. “Exactly how do I use it?”
Brom looked astonished. “I haven’t made that clear?”
“No.”
Brom took a deep breath and said, “To work with magic, you must have a certain innate power, which is very rare among people nowadays. You also have to be able to summon this power at will. Once it is called upon, you have to use it or let it fade away. Understood? Now, if you wish to employ the power, you must utter the word or phrase of the ancient language that describes your intent. For example, if you hadn’t said
“So I’m limited by my knowledge of this language?”
“Exactly,” crowed Brom. “Also, while speaking it, it’s impossible to practice deceit.”
Eragon shook his head. “That can’t be. People always lie. The sounds of the ancient words can’t stop them