Wages of Sin
The flight to the island took the better part of the day. Eragon and Saphira flew within sight of them, but kept to themselves. After a while, Murtagh said to Celestine, “I was wondering something about how your magic works.”
“Yes?”
“You said it was based on will? That you move magical energy with your mind?”
“Yes.”
“So, what’s the purpose of the hand gestures? And the incantations?”
“Oh, I see. It’s technically possible to cast any spell without moving or saying a thing,” she explained. “The gestures and words only serve to focus the mind to the spell at hand. If I were better at magic, I wouldn’t need to rely on them so much.”
“Ah.”
When they were almost to the island, Murtagh cast a protective spell on the three of them, which he had learned from Galbatorix. “Vroengard has some kind of invisible poison in the air that kills very slowly,” he explained. “It’s related to some explosion that occurred on the island during the Riders’ final stand.”
“That sounds like radiation. When did your people get nuclear bombs?” Celestine asked.
“I’m sorry; some of those words didn’t translate. I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Never mind. It’s not important. Shouldn’t you let Eragon know?”
“Indeed.”
They flew closer, and Murtagh reached out with his mind, explaining about the poison. Glaedr responded with a brusque I already know and have told Eragon. You can mind your own mind now.
Very well, Murtagh responded, saying to Celestine, “They know.”
Shortly thereafter, Saphira landed, and Thorn set down nearby. Grimrr pointed off to the north. “The rock is that way. We’re very close,” he said.
Celestine took a deep breath before whispering a traditional Syllian prayer:
“Soon I tread on battle’s yard.
I pray Dayus my soul to guard.
But if I die in battle’s wake,
I pray Dayus my soul to take.”
“A prayer to your god for our battle?” Eragon asked.
“Yes. It helps me focus, though, reciting children’s rhymes,” she said.
“Isn’t that a bit morbid for a child’s rhyme?” Eragon asked.
“Is it? I never thought so,” Celestine replied.
They grew quiet as they approached the area. Obliterated pieces of rock were strewn in front of a tunnel large enough for a dragon to enter, leading deep into the ground. Two tall, hooded figures peered into the gaping maw. Not far behind them stood a man with his back turned to Eragon and the others. As they approached, the man looked up then turned to face them. “Eragon,” he said. “I’d say it was good to see you again, but we both know that would be a lie. Oh and you,” he continued, his red eyes shifting to Celestine, “so your god can throw us out, but does nothing to make sure we won’t get back in? What’s the use in that?”
“It’s up to the man to fill his own house,” Celestine said. “You look just a little bit different Dorias. And where’s your dragon?”
The hooded figures moved to flank him. He said, “My dragon? Oh, what a treat you’re in for, dear.”
The sky grew dark above as something tremendous cast a great shadow on the ground. They looked up, swords at the ready, but it was Shruikan who landed. Galbatorix dismounted. “You will explain yourself, Shade,” he said.
He gave a grandiose bow and said, “Your majesty, the King! Didn’t like my little side army of Urgals, did you? It took us a long time to convince Carsaib to rebel against you—the spells that bind us spirits require Shades to resort to the most elaborate forms of suicide, you know.”
“Durza did rebel against you?” Eragon asked.
“This is not the time, boy,” Galbatorix said. “Let us have a truce for now.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I defeated Durza and the Ra’zac once. I can do it again,” Eragon said. “And then I’ll defeat you.”
“Eragon, honestly now is not the time,” Murtagh said.
“Brother, Celestine, we can defeat them all together,” Eragon said. “Don’t you want to be free of him?”
“Eragon, listen to your brother,” Celestine said. “Focus on one enemy at a time.”
Galbatorix ignored Eragon for the moment. “Where’s my dragon?” he asked the Shade.
“I’m confused. Is it supposed to be your dragon or mine?” he asked. He then wagged his finger and said, “When it was an egg, it was yours, but now that he’s hatched, he has a new owner.”
“Shade, I will give you one last chance to answer my question. Answer willingly or pain will persuade you.”
He laughed a full, hearty laugh. “Pain? Ha! Why do you need me to tell you when you already answered your question? Ha! Did you hear? I said he’d already answered his question.” The man became serious again and said, “Yes, very droll. This is why we don’t let you talk. Yes, oh king, Pain is very persuasive. But hark! Pain approaches!”
They, too, heard footsteps growing closer, emanating from the tunnel mouth. A large green head poked up from under the earth and roared as it looked about. It then burst forth from the tunnel. Atop him sat his Rider, proud as the dawn star—first to shine and last to dim. Her hair was black as a moonless night and violet eyes as piercing as the sword of a god.
Eragon fell to his knees and said, “Not you. Anyone but you.”
“Who is she?” Celestine asked. “I saw her once in the Varden camp.”
Galbatorix frowned. “She is the witch-child, Elva. She was inadvertently cursed by Eragon.”
“Inadvertently?” Celestine asked.
“I tried to bless her, but I messed it up,” Eragon said, his face contorting in agony. “I meant to shield her from pain but instead made her feel others’ pain to try to shield them. And I tried to fix it! I couldn’t fully remove the effect, but I did make it so that she could ignore the pain.”
Elva closed her eyes and breathed in deeply as a smile of utter contentment spread across her face. “Oh, Eragon,” she said, “your pain is the sweetest. Do you like my gifts to you? You can relive some of your greatest victories! Here is Durza and the Ra’zac.” She looked at Celestine. “Oh, and I brought back Dorias for you—to thank you for telling me where the green dragon egg was.”
“I didn’t!”
“You don’t shield your mind very well. Does it pain you to know that I got the green dragon egg from your open thoughts? Mmmm, I can feel that it does.” She leaned forward and patted the dragon’s neck. “Still, I love my Suffering, so there’s your present. I hope you don’t mind sharing a gift with Eragon; I guess I could’ve used two different people, but what’s done is done.”
Grimrr asked, “Where are my people?”
Elva sat up straight, her eyes glistening. She looked like she’d been waiting for that question. “Well, I only needed one, didn’t I?” she asked. “You can look for most your kin in the belly of the Ra’zac.”
“Monster!”
“What? They were hungry. And I did say I kept one, didn’t I? Here she is,” Elva held up a white werecat in her hand.
“Shadowhunter, my mate! Are you all right?”
“Now, wait for it,” Elva said.“Wait for…?”
Elva tossed the cat in the air. Suffering snatched her midair with one quick snap of his powerful jaws, devouring her whole. Grimrr let out a pitiful strangled yowl as he writhed on the ground. “Yes!” Elva shouted. “Yes! Oh… Now that. Mmmm, I wish I was a poet. I don’t have the words.”
“Elva!” Eragon yelled, standing. “Stop this! I wronged you, I know. Whatever I can do to make it up to you, I’ll do it.”
“Stop calling me Elva. That is no longer who I am. I am Pain!” She focused on him and her eyes narrowed. “When the last of your loved ones lay bleeding at my feet and you weep until your eyes melt and your heart sinks so deep it refuses to beat even one more time, when you begin to grow cold as the sweet hand of Death comes to rescue you from me and the last image in your heart is their dead eyes and my smiling face, then we will be even, Eragon.”
“Galbatorix, we have a truce, but for this battle only,” Eragon said.
The king nodded in response.
“Elva,” Celestine said. “This hatred will do you no good. Let go of it, and let us help rid you of this curse.”
The girl’s eyes turned on her. As she spoke, each syllable seemed to resound in Celestine’s very core. “You will never leave this world alive, and when you die, bleeding from a thousand wounds, you will know that your sister will die in your place and still fail because it was supposed to be you. And the nations of your corrupt world will burn each other until nothing is left but ashes so that the paltry survivors will eventually turn on each other for food—even the mother will hold no love for the child at her breast, but roast him in the flames for naught but a few days of agonizing life. Just before you die, you will see that and know that it is all your fault.”
Celestine covered her mouth with her empty hand. Her body shuddered.
“Stop listening to her,” Galbatorix said. “She’ll talk you into an early grave. Murtagh, you and Eragon handle the Ra’zac. Celestine, the Shade is yours. I will handle Eragon’s mistake.”
“Please don’t kill her,” Eragon said.
“If I can help it…” Galbatorix replied. “Celestine! Are you all right?”
She shook her head, but said, “Fine. I’m fine. The Shade is mine.”
“Very well then,” he said. “Attack!”
Suffering rose high into the air, Shruikan taking wing to give chase. Both hooded Ra’zac drew leaf-bladed swords and stepped between Celestine and the Shade as the three youths moved in.
* * *
Celestine drew her Forcecast in her offhand and fired at the Ra’zac. They shrugged off the impact and breathed a black fog at her. Murtagh cast a wind to blow it away. The Shade gestured as though casting a spell at Murtagh, but Eragon said something in the original language, which made the Shade scowl. Before he could try anything else, Celestine shot at him repeatedly. She knew it would only prove distracting, forcing him to divert her projectiles, but that was all she needed for Murtagh and Eragon to close in on the Ra’zac and drive them out of her way.
“Good luck,” she said as Murtagh and Eragon passed by. They nodded in return.
She returned her Forcecast to its holster. Thorn and Saphira ran behind her on their way to back up their Riders.
“Don’t try to get close, dear,” the Shade said, smiling. “Kaelin knows what you can do, and he won’t let you cast us out again.”
Celestine nodded. “I figured as much. Kaelin has only seen a fraction of what I can do, though.”
“Clearly you can’t exorcise at a distance or you’d have done it by now,” he said, adding with a smirk, “Guess I’ll have to be surprised by whatever else.”
The way he didn’t even try to hide the sarcasm stuck in the back of her mind, but was it arrogance, or did he know something she didn’t? Celestine decided on a cautious approach. She flung several spells his way—fire, electricity, kinetic force—before charging in, sword raised.
After he batted aside her sword with his, Celestine backed away, invisible, while her illusion continued to press the attack. Kaelin had disappeared before her fight with Arya, so he didn’t know about invisibility and illusions. As she would expect, he remained focused on the double. But was he pretending in order to give her a false sense of confidence, or was he truly fooled? She continued to study him as she walked in a wide arc across from him. He gave no indication that he could see through her artifice.
She heard Saphira roar in pain and looked over. Thorn was standing between her and the Ra’zac. Murtagh and Eragon were trying to fight them with swords, but it didn’t seem to be going well for them. She needed to wrap this up quickly.
She traced a six-pointed star on her palm and walked behind the Shade. She leapt at his back. He whirled suddenly, his sword striking her side in midair with unnatural force. Celestine sprawled on the ground a few meters away.
She rolled to her back and gasped. Her hand went to her sore side. The abdomen was one of the places protected by mesh instead of plate to keep the weight of the armor manageable. Anselmo had done his job well—despite the extraordinary force of the blow, the armor had held—and Celestine thought, not for the first time, that it had been worth every bit of money she’d paid him.
She struggled to her knees only to be greeted by hundreds of jagged rocks hurtling at her. She cast a shield as quickly as possible, but it was overwhelmed. Many of the rocks pelted off her armor, making sharp cracking sounds. Some cut through her upper arms, which were only protected by her robe. She fell backward with a scream. She rolled to her stomach and struggled to her hands and knees. Blood soaked through her clothes. It was happening. She was going to die here. Angelina was going to die at the Mirror—maybe Eve, too. Her world would destroy itself in a war to end all wars.
She shook her head. No. I’ve lived my life for the glory of Dayus, and my death will be equally glorious. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the Shade levitating more rocks. Her only chance was to let her necklace activate, so she gave herself over to the desperate thoughts. Just as the second volley hurtled towards her, the necklace flashed, and the dissipating force knocked them all away.
She pulled a bloody rock from her arm. Her blood dripped down to the ground, giving her an idea. She stood. With more rocks incoming, Celestine ran away before turning abruptly and rolling forward. So, how had he seen through her illusion?
She prepared a shield as the Shade tore more jagged rocks from the earth. She ran across the field again, her injured arm still trailing blood behind her. When she stopped, the shield was ready. He couldn’t have Magesight, could he? No, he’d given no indication whatsoever of noticing her until the last moment. So, what was it? She held aloft her sword and charged with a yell. The shield survived many of the projectiles, but one broke through, tore a cut into her other arm, and bounded along the ground behind her. She retreated as the Shade laughed. “What kind of attack was that?”
Elva’s curse… She could sense when something would cause pain, which would make her an expert both at inflicting it and preventing it. Celestine turned and faced the Shade. What if Elva were able to share that information with her minions?
Celestine ran across the field again to avoid more rocks. This time she built a much stronger shield.
Perhaps he was receiving information from Elva. Celestine hadn’t intended him any pain just by studying him, and the illusion certainly wouldn’t hurt him, but when she had leapt at him to press the star against him and release his spirits, that would’ve stung. He was warned at the last second and was able to counter with something that hurt her. And if the Shade was getting that kind of information, then the Ra’zac must surely be getting it as well.
So then, you had to defeat them without hurting them? Not easy. “You won’t win,” she shouted “It’s not for me to die here.”
Something that didn’t hurt until it was far too late… It was a start at least. “You may not have a choice in the matter,” he said, using a spell to bounce his sword off her shield and return it to his hand.
She drew her Forcecast and shot at very high power levels. He deflected them as she expected, but she hoped it would be like Carn and the wall. Start with something that wouldn’t hurt and follow with something that couldn’t be blocked even with foreknowledge—that would be her best bet. She put away her Forcecast and ran away.
The Shade threw more rocks her way, adding fire to them, but she deflected them all. Celestine chewed her bottom lip. He was just standing there. Maybe she could use pain avoidance to her advantage. She conjured up a much smaller version of the fire cloud she’d used at Belatona and dropped a tremendous orb of fire where he stood.
The Shade leapt away, nimble as a cat. “An impressive spell, dear, but I’ve already seen this trick,” he called, leaping away from another drop. She panted with the effort of trying to create enough columns at once to leave only one avenue of retreat. He danced amid the flames on the field of battle, and flung a large rock through one of the fireballs, hiding the attack until the last possible second. It knocked her down, and hands made of stone burst from the ground, restraining her arms and legs.
She looked at him and yelled, “Kaelin, you coward! Are you man enough to put a sword through my heart with your own hand?”
“Careful what you ask for, dear,” the Shade said, striding forward. “What happened to not dying here? Or did you mean right here?” he asked as he stepped to the spot where Celestine had said that.
Celestine cried out, “You have touched the Seal of the Ancient Kings of Dayus, and, moreover, are in contact with my blood.”
“What? I haven’t!”
“By the name of Dayus, power of powers, god of gods, you are commanded to leave this man! All of you!”
“No! I’ve touched nothing!” he said, staggering backwards, his body stiffening. “I’ve touched no seal! No blood!” But when he looked around, he saw light emanating from the ground all around him—a six-pointed star she had bled onto the ground as she had dodged his piercing rocks. He stumbled forward, trying to leave the seal, but he fell over.
“Leave! Now!”
Writhing and struggling, the Shade arched backwards, little glowing orbs flying out of his body until the man lay still. When Kaelin came to himself a few moments later, Celestine was still trying to free herself from the stone hands. He screamed at her, “You damned girl! You’ve done it to me again!”
He lurched towards her, sword in hand. “Fret not about your heart, girl. It’s the final place I’ll put my sword.”
* * *
When Shruikan took off after Suffering, Eragon heard Glaedr’s voice in his mind, Do you think he’ll even try to keep Elva alive?
I hope so.
As they approached, the Ra’zac moved to keep Celestine away from the Shade. She shot them with her ranged weapon, but their exoskeletons, hidden under their robes, absorbed the impact easily. They breathed their evil black fog at her. If it enveloped her, it would cloud her mind and make her incapable of casting any spells.
Murtagh reacted quickly, saying, “Vindr ganga fram,” and blowing the fog away.
As they moved in to engage the Ra’zac, the Shade pointed at Murtagh and said, “Malthinae.”
Eragon countered, saying, “Losna.”
The Shade scowled at him, but when Celestine began shooting at him, he had to divert his attention to her. They now had their opening, crossing swords with the Ra’zac and driving them back. She bid them good luck as they passed. Eragon nodded at her, as did Murtagh.
“They were eggs just a few days ago. How do you suppose they grew so quickly?” Eragon
asked.
“Probably the same way she accelerated her dragon’s growth—however that might have been,” Murtagh replied.
Eragon kept pressing his opponent back as Saphira circled around and approached from behind. She took a swipe with her claws, but the Ra’zac ducked underneath without even looking before rolling to the side to avoid Eragon’s downward slash. He had enough experience with Ra’zac to know that they were strong and agile as Elves, but that dodge seemed preposterous.
He fought on with his utmost skill, but it still annoyed him. Even if their growth could be accelerated, surely their training could not? How had they become so skilled with the sword? Saphira often angled herself to attack from behind or the side, and the Ra’zac always avoided her attack often without a glance.
“Does yours seem… unusually skilled to you?” Eragon asked.
“A bit, yes,” Murtagh said. “Yours too?”
Without warning, Saphira tried to claw the Ra’zac again, but he spun and slashed, carving a deep gouge where her arm connected to her body. She roared and backed away. Thorn barreled towards her, slashing furiously as he went. Both Ra’zac leapt out of his way, then rushed to flank Eragon and Murtagh—their blades moving so fast as to be a blur.
“An understatement. But how?”
Murtagh shook his head. “Accelerated like their growth?”
“I don’t think so…”
They heard a sharp crack followed by Celestine’s yell. He hadn’t seen the hit, but Celestine was sprawled several feet away from the Shade, who was calling several nearby stones to levitate. Murtagh grimaced and renewed his attack with vigor, but the first attack that he made that left even the smallest opening, the Ra’zac exploited. Murtagh backed away, trying to recover his defense, Eragon had to help cover him, but that caused him to open up his own defense. His opponent slashed his forearm.
Saphira! Fire! Eragon thought as he rolled away.
Murtagh must’ve had the same thought because both Saphira and Thorn breathed fire as they rolled out of the way. The Ra’zac also moved away well beyond the range of the blast even before the flames poured forth.
“Elva’s curse,” Eragon said. “She can sense pain. She knows what will cause it and how to prevent it. Maybe she’s also able to convey that information to the Ra’zac.”
“That would explain how they can avoid damaging hits without even a glance,” Murtagh said. “So, how would we defeat them?”
“Maybe some kind of attack that would defeat them without hurting them,” Eragon said.
“Seems unlikely. What about an attack that—though painful—was impossible to prevent?”
“That also seems unlikely.”
“It seems less unlikely at least.”
Eragon scoffed. “And how, precisely, do you quantify different levels of unlikeliness in this case?”
“I would think—” Murtagh was interrupted as the Ra’zac were hit from behind with a blast powerful enough to pitch them forward, arms pinwheeling. “Now!”
Eragon and Murtagh simultaneously stabbed at their opponents’ vitals. The Ra’zac tried to block, but off-balance as they were and quick as Eragon and his brother were, it was impossible to prevent entirely. Murtagh’s managed to deflect the sword away from his heart, but it sunk into his thorax. Eragon’s avoided being stabbed in the throat only to suffer a terrible wound to the shoulder.
“All right,” Eragon said. “I concede that’s it’s now more likely to defeat them with unpreventable attacks, though they cause pain.”
“Thought you might.”
Eragon pressed his attack, favoring strikes to the Ra’zac’s left side where its injured shoulder made it harder to defend. Murtagh backed away from his, letting the creature come to him, its life sapping away with each heartbeat. Eventually, Eragon slipped a slice through his enemy’s underdefended left side and took his head clean off. He turned to aid Murtagh, but his foe had already fallen to his knees, bleeding profusely, feebly trying to crawl to him with one last attack. Murtagh stuck his sword into his back, ending his suffering.
Once their enemies lay broken at their feet, Murtagh pointed and said, “To Celestine!”
They ran towards the man—for Eragon could see that he was a Shade no longer, lacking the distinctive red hair. When he looked their way, Eragon saw that he also lacked the red eyes. When she’d claimed to have cast out spirits, Eragon had wondered if she truly had.
Kaelin was halfway between them and Celestine when he saw them coming, and he fled with a scream rather than face them. Murtagh set about healing Celestine while Eragon took hold of the stony hands that gripped her and crushed them. He offered his hand and asked, “Should we pursue?”
Celestine took his hand and stood, saying, “We have someone much more dangerous to deal with first.”
Eragon hung his head. He could only hope that Galbatorix wouldn’t kill Elva. Everyone always said he was so powerful. Surely he could manage it. Then, maybe, Elva could be helped.
Celestine placed her hand on his shoulder. “It’s appropriate to feel shame when you’ve done wrong, but now is not the time to dwell on it. Let’s help Galbatorix restrain her.”
Murtagh pointed to the sky and asked, “What’s that?”
“It looks like one of them is falling…” Celestine answered.
Eragon looked intently. It was definitely a person, but so far up, he couldn’t see clearly. He didn’t even have a comparison of scale so that he would know if it were Elva or the considerably larger king. “I can’t see who it is at this distance.”
* * *
Suffering took to the air. Shruikan surged after him. I’ll catch up to that whelp in no time! he said.
We must tread carefully with this one, Galbatorix warned, and I don’t mean simply because we’re to try to take her alive.
You must think you’ll win Eragon over if you keep her alive.
I sincerely believe she won’t allow herself to be taken alive. If we’re not careful—even if we are—I may have to rely on my back-up plan.
Shruikan snorted. Ludicrous. You know the Name of Names. What can she do against that?
What indeed. We will find out soon. There she is.
“Do you want to know how well your puppets down there are dancing on your strings?” she called out. “It must be gratifying to be in charge of your fate—something that you didn’t have back when Jarnunvösk was alive. Does it pain you to hear her name? I know it does.”
Shruikan bellowed, launching a blast of fire at Suffering. I am not second best!
Keep calm. She’s doing it to get a reaction from you. Galbatorix told him as Suffering dove under the attack.
“You’re not in charge of your fate anymore, though. I am. But you can have an honored place in my own design,” she said.
Galbatorix cast a spell to stop her heart, but she countered it and continued, “Don’t you understand what I’m doing? I’ve lived my life steeped in pain. I know pain. And now, I am become Pain.”
What are you doing? Use the Name of Names! Make it so she can’t cast spells and then she can’t counter you.
Trust me. It’s important to determine the extent of her power first. I know how Eragon cursed her—there were numerous witnesses to that—but none of my spies had access to how he ‘fixed’ her. I’ll not risk her curse enabling her to counter the Name of Names. And besides that, I’m still not sure how Celestine will react if she hears the Name.
“But my experience made me realize something. Life is pain. You must know that, too. After being freed from the fixtures of the curse, that was when I thought why should everything have to live in pain? If I kill something, it no longer hurts. I’m doing it a favor.”
Galbatorix cast a spell to paralyze her, but she also countered that. She grinned, “It pains you that I can counter all of your spells, doesn’t it? I know that it does. I make you a simple offer. Join me as I rid the world of pain, and you can be the fifth last to die.”
“Fifth last, eh? How do you figure?”
“I would spare you the pain of losing another dragon, so you would die before Shruikan. Shruikan your death would follow so quickly after his that you would have no time to mourn. I have always loved Saphira dearly for giving me some of her magic—unknowing though it was—so she will be the last living creature I kill. Then, in a world with no more pain and suffering, it shall become a world with no more Pain or Suffering.”
“A world without pain because it’s a world without life? No, child. I hold my pain close. I cherish it. It makes me who I am. I wouldn’t want to be without it even if it didn’t mean death.”
“You mock me? Are you sure of your choice? Would it affect your choice to know that your charges below are in pain?”
“If they can feel pain, then they’re still alive,” he said. Shruikan, get above them!
Shruikan’s powerful wings quickly lifted him above their enemies.
Now, dive! Clip his wings!
Shruikan obeyed. As he dove near, he slashed out at Suffering’s wings, but the green dragon spiraled away and raked his claws down the great black dragon’s belly as he flew past. Shruikan roared. I had him! He didn’t see me coming at all!
It’s as I feared. Not only does she know what will cause pain before it happens and what can cause pain in others, but her bond with her dragon allows her to share that knowledge with him. She may even be able to share it with that Shade and the Ra’zac below.
Then we must finish this quickly. There’s no way Celestine could hear from this distance. Use the Name of Names.
No, she’s been countering every spell. If she counters this, though, she could then use it against me…
Counter the Names of Names? It is impossible.
Impossible… Perhaps, but I know something else impossible for her to counter. I hope Eragon will understand. There’s no other way.
Galbatorix cast a spell to crush her with force on all sides, and he used the power of ten of his Eldunarí. The only possible counter was to oppose it with equal force, which was more power than she possessed. If she cast the counter, it would kill her. If she didn’t cast the counter, it would kill her.
Yet when she cast the counter, she had enough power to survive, and she grinned at him and laughed.
There’s no way she could have that much power, Shruikan said.
Unless she has Eldunarí of her own…
But where…?
They both thought at the same time. Beneath the rock!
Galbatorix continued, The Riders must have hidden away some Eldunarí as a failsafe. They may also have saved some eggs!
“At the very least, you can’t say I didn’t give you a chance,” Elva said.
She cast a spell to slay Shruikan. Galbatorix cast the counter. Elva cast a counter to his counter. Galbatorix also countered that, but when she again countered him, he had run out of ideas. He only had one choice now: use the Name or Shruikan would die.
He cast the spell to counter all of her efforts, sealing it with the Name of Names. When he spoke it, the very air reverberated with its power. It worked. He had canceled her spell and saved Shruikan’s life. If the protection he cast on the Name held, she wouldn’t be able to remember it even after he’d just spoken, so she couldn’t use it against him.
She sat stunned in her saddle for a moment. “Amazing. You learned the name of magic itself. The Name of Names,” she said.
An uneasy feeling settled in Galbatorix’s stomach.
“It would cause you so much pain if I remembered the word you just spoke, wouldn’t it? No, don’t answer. I already know that it would.”
Shruikan, charge.
As the dragon flew forward, Suffering turned away to keep the distance. Shruikan was faster and gained on his target. Whatever happens, when he turns, hit the saddle. There will be no chance for her to dodge.
What do you mean, ‘Whatever happens?’
Whatever happens!
He already knew the next spell she would cast even though they couldn’t see her at the angle her dragon was flying. She spoke using the Name, and he no longer could recall the Name. Shruikan drew ever closer. Elva cast again, and all the wards that Galbatorix had spent a lifetime devising to protect himself from every possible attack disappeared in an instant. He drew a hand axe from his saddle and threw it at Suffering.
The dragon turned to avoid the blade, and Shruikan blasted the saddle the moment it entered his line of fire. Suffering roared, but the saddle was empty. Elva had slid down to the tail that, with a quick flick, sent her hurtling, sword ready, directly into Galbatorix.
Pierced through the gut and falling through the air, Galbatorix heard Shruikan’s resounding, Father!
Wind hurtling past his ears, scenes of his life paraded through his memory. His father told him, “Son, one day you will be a great man. Great like no other.”
Vrael told him, “I see strength in you like no other Rider. You were born to be a leader, Galbatorix. Born to save the weak.”
Morzan said to him, “The king is dead now, and who will lead these people? They need you now or the nations of the Empire will descend into bloodshed and chaos. Only you can save them.”
The ground would soon be upon him and his own thoughts said, Dayus will hold no one guiltless who speaks the Name.
Murtagh’s shouting pulled him from his thoughts. He was yelling, “Eragon, I can’t slow him! My spell isn’t working! Help me!”
It soon felt like he was falling through tree branches—thin at first, but growing thicker as his descent reduced—but he saw nothing around him. He then hit the ground hard.
* * *
When he hit the ground, Celestine rushed to him and began healing. He regained consciousness as Celestine worked. Shruikan soon landed behind them. Elva and her dragon landed opposite him not long after. “I’m sorry, I’m not able to heal you better,” Celestine said. “I’m trying, but the magic is resisting me.”
She looked at Elva and saw an impish grin spread across her face. Celestine whispered, “But how?”
Murtagh approached the child. “Elva, please,” he said. “Eragon did you wrong, I know. He treated me ill as well, but I forgave him. It’s so much better to forgive than to hold on to your anger. I didn’t think it would be, either, but it’s true.”
While Celestine redoubled her healing effort, Eragon whispered to her, “Perhaps if we attacked her with something that couldn’t feel pain. Can you make more of those rock creatures you used against Arya?”
“I used one golem against Arya; the others were illusions,” she replied. “But I could if I hadn’t used my last breath-of-life stone.”
“You can’t make more?”
She shook her head. “It takes at least six days even for the most skilled.”
Galbatorix took her by the arm and stood unsteadily. “Celestine,” he said. “I hoped it would not come to this, but I know what you are, and we both know what you must do now.”
“You don’t know what you ask for.”
“I know better than you think I do,” he replied. “This is our last chance. She means to kill everyone and everything—her and her dragon included—” he glanced at Eragon and added, “to free us all from pain.” He took her by the shoulders and looked her square in the eyes. “Eragon is right. We have to attack her with something that cannot feel pain. Don’t we?”
“No, I won’t.”
“If you don’t, we have no chance of defeating her.”
“There are worse things than death. Do you honestly want to see one?”
Murtagh cried out in distress. Eragon and Celestine turned to look. Even from several feet away, Elva had cut a gash on his thigh.
Galbatorix said, “Celestine, the true question is: Do you?”
Celestine picked up her sword and walked towards Murtagh.
“Do you want a turn next?” Elva called out.
Celestine stopped beside Murtagh and said, “You told me once that Galbatorix was cunning beyond anything you’d ever seen. If he had a plan, called it our last chance, but you thought it foolish, would you follow it?”
“No matter what I thought, I’d follow his plan. He’s the man that brought down the Riders though hopelessly outnumbered. I’d assume he knew something I didn’t.”
“Then I will trust you. And I will trust his plan,” Celestine said, taking off her necklace.
“Celestine? What are you…?”
She pressed it against his chest. “Take it.”
“But you told me not to let you get separated from this.”
“Don’t listen to what I said! Listen to what I say! Just take it,” she said. “And back up.”
Murtagh took the necklace and shuffled backwards as Celestine turned to face Elva.
“Eragon,” Galbatorix said, “whatever happens next, don’t say or do anything.”
Eragon nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. A shadow grew above Celestine—deep blackness tinged with red, like a storm cloud in the early morning. A powerful gale whipped about, swirling the loose rocks all around them, and the ground trembled beneath their feet. The sky grew dark, revealing that the moon had turned red as a drop of blood. Elva fell silent as the shadow coalesced into the shape of wings outspread from Celestine’s back. As the wind calmed, the winged figure turned and looked at all of them in turn. The strands of hair that lay uncovered by her helm shone like the noonday sun, and her eyes were blue as the midday sky—even the whites and pupils. Elva remained completely still.
Eragon leaned close to Galbatorix and, in a hushed voice, asked, “What is she?”
Celestine’s attention snapped directly on him and she flew at him with preternatural speed, her sword aimed directly at his heart.
Taku on 13 April 2013, 19:15 said:
Nice! I love it! This is something that the Inheritance books are sorely missing: the idea, the genuine possibility for central characters to die, and for someone genuinely fearsome could win and go on to destroy everything.
So many of the problems with Inheritance boil down to the fact that at no point are the central characters in any sort of real danger, whether by Sueism or Plot Armour None of the villains present any real threat, because the books are set up specifically for the protagonists to win regardless of probability.
Also, I like the cliff-hanger at the end. Next chapter please!
Finn on 14 April 2013, 14:09 said:
:O Wow! It’s so good…I can’t wait till the next chapter!
It’s interesting what Elva has now become, and I think it makes sense. Having to feel pain all the time would drive a person mad.
I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE!
Brendan Rizzo on 14 April 2013, 16:55 said:
I am beginning to like this story again. I thought it was getting too preachy for a while, but now we’re back to the action. I have just realized though, that since Celestine comes from an original work of yours, this story will need to end in a way that no one remembers its events.
I think I can guess what kind of being Celestine is, but my guess depends on whether her siblings are in fact her biological siblings. That cliffhanger…
Tim on 15 April 2013, 11:51 said:
You are falling into one of the same traps as Paolini himself did, mind:
We know he’s asking because the sentence ends in a question mark, we know she’s replying because it’s the line after a question. You only really use those instead of speech (“Eragon asked if that wasn’t a little morbid for a children’s rhyme, she replied that she had never thought so”), otherwise it’s just redundant.
Finn on 15 April 2013, 12:17 said:
I don’t quite agree. I’ve always found “said” a little awkward when referring to asking and answering questions. I don’t know why. At any rate, “replied” and “answered” disappear the same way that “said” does. It’s not the same as using “inquired” or “asserted”, which just call attention to themselves.
Besides, your points then lead to the question “Why use “said” at all if we know by the quotation marks that they’re saying something?”
Tim on 15 April 2013, 12:44 said:
Well, usually you don’t, the “said” is just part of the label to show which character is speaking, and you should generally only switch from “said” if you’re using a speech tag which conveys information about how they’re speaking (whispered, shouted, muttered, grumbled, etc). In an ongoing exchange between two people you don’t really need dialog tags at all since the reader will assume alternate lines belong to the two original speakers. Most professional editors and writers will tell you to stick to “said” rather than using variations because the variation becomes noticeable to the reader.
Maybe it’s just me, but I usually prefer having some idea what the characters are doing while they’re talking, it’s a good way to replace redundant dialog tags and gets past the mental picture of them standing in completely neutral poses as they speak.
Nate Winchester on 15 April 2013, 12:56 said:
Technically you should always use ‘asked’ with a question, not ‘said’. It is not a decorative like everything else but a proper grammar rule. (aka ‘ask’ is to ‘said’ as ‘?’ is to ‘.’)
Asahel on 15 April 2013, 13:30 said:
Thanks for the comments everyone! I’m hard at work on the next chapter already.
Thank you. That’s always a goal of mine because without it, there would be no dramatic tension, merely a foregone conclusion that we’re plodding towards.
Thank you. I do feel that Elva makes a much more interesting villain because of her connection to the hero, and I’m glad others feel the same way.
Well, I love to foment fan speculation, so I’ll say, yes, except for Eve, Celestine’s brother and sister are her biological brother and sister. Eve is a big spoiler for the second book (in fact, knowing that Celestine even has a second “sister” is a pretty big spoiler). Now, commence speculation!
I’ve heard that, too, with one extra addition: Never use “said” for a question. As Finn mentioned, it’s awkward and does exactly what you said it shouldn’t—becomes noticeable to the reader. Also, and this is personal taste on my part, in scenes where two people are talking, but if there’s a third person who could conceivably jump in on the conversation, I’ll use a couple of extra dialogue tags to make clear that it’s a back and forth. So, for example, in the exchange you quoted, if the dialogue had gone on longer, I wouldn’t have bothered to write “Eragon this/ Celestine that” any more. You are right that I could’ve cut the last “Celestine replied” (and probably should have), but the second Eragon asked is important (in my opinion) to make it absolutely clear that Murtagh didn’t suddenly jump in with a question. Yes, I understand most people would assume he didn’t, but I also know there are several that would wonder if he did, and that’s the kind of wondering I don’t want people having about my writing.
Anyway, good feedback all. I’ll keep an eye out for unnecessary dialogue tags in the future, and I eagerly await speculation as to what kind of being Celestine is or has become.
Sìlfae on 18 June 2013, 10:26 said:
Well, I just passed by to congratulate you, Asahel, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed reading this fanfiction and I’m looking forward to see how it will end.
Not being familiar in one of the two starting settings in a crossover fiction usually is keen to hinder one’s reading, but in this particular case I found it comprehensible and appreciable even if I didn’t know this “Mirror” world. By what I read from comments in the previous chapters does it belong to a book you wrote? The thought of artificial dragons does make me shiver, but that is mostly a personal attitude on my part, it otherwise looks interesting as a setting.
I’ve had some pleasant time reading of Eragon baffled to deal with a more closely good-aligned character; I have to say (I mean no offence, of course, I liked her) Celestine remembered me of a more practical reinterpretation of Kaelyn the Dove (from NWN: Mask of the Betrayer, maybe you know it?).
I also enjoyed the rappresentation of Galbatorix in this alternate continuity, I think others already told everything that was to say; it was nice it wasn’t reinterpreted as a completely blameless and honest figure, the overtures of deception in the middle chapters caught me a little by surprise, which is always a nice thing.
Asahel on 18 June 2013, 13:12 said:
Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it. On a related note, the 15th chapter is being edited right now and should be posted soon (I’m hoping within a week).
Yes, the Celestine character and her world belong to a book I’ve written, which is as yet unpublished. I’ve shopped it around a bit, but no bites yet. I’m looking into alternatives, including other publishers. If anyone has any suggestions, I’m certainly open to them.
No, I haven’t heard of this before, but now I want to read it!
Sìlfae on 18 June 2013, 13:20 said:
I’m glad to hear it.
I’m sorry to hear it, I know how it’s like; I hope you’ll find more luck in the future.
I was actually referring to the first expansion of Neverwinter Nights 2, a videogame. Mask of the Betrayer had very dark and complex plot and great variety of choices, as I recall.