Ohio Thrift

Humbled, he bowed his head. “What will you do now—return to Ellesméra?”

“No, not yet. There is much that must be done here. I cannot abandon the Varden—Ajihad needs my help. I’ve seen you tested in both arms and magic today. Brom taught you well. You are ready to proceed in your training.”

“You mean for me to go to Ellesméra?”

“Yes.”

Eragon felt a flash of irritation. Did he and Saphira have no say in the matter? “When?”

“That is yet to be decided, but not for some weeks.”

At least they gave us that much time,thought Eragon. Saphira mentioned something to him, and he in turn asked Arya, “What did the Twins want me to do?”

Arya’s sculpted lip curled with disgust. “Something not even they can accomplish. It is possible to speak the name of an object in the ancient language and summon its true form. It takes years of work and great discipline, but the reward is complete control over the object. That is why one’s true name is always kept hidden, for if it were known by any with evil in their hearts, they could dominate you utterly.”

“It’s strange,” said Eragon after a moment, “but before I was captured at Gil’ead, I had visions of you in my dreams. It was like scrying—and I was able to scry you later—but it was always during my sleep.”

Arya pursed her lips pensively. “There were times I felt as if another presence was watching me, but I was often confused and feverish. I’ve never heard of anyone, either in lore or legend, being able to scry in their sleep.”

“I don’t understand it myself,” said Eragon, looking at his hands. He twirled Brom’s ring around his finger. “What does the tattoo on your shoulder mean? I didn’t mean to see it, but when I was healing your wounds . . . it couldn’t be helped. It’s just like the symbol on this ring.”

“You have a ring with the yawë on it?” she asked sharply.

“Yes. It was Brom’s. See?”

He held out the ring. Arya examined the sapphire, then said, “This is a token given only to the most valued elf-friends—so valued, in fact, it has not been used in centuries. Or so I thought. I never knew that Queen Islanzadi thought so highly of Brom.”




“I shouldn’t wear it, then,” said Eragon, afraid that he had been presumptuous.

“No, keep it. It will give you protection if you meet my people by chance, and it may help you gain favor with the queen. Tell no one of my tattoo. It should not be revealed.”

“Very well.”

He enjoyed talking with Arya and wished their conversation could have lasted longer. When they parted, he wandered through Farthen Dûr, conversing with Saphira. Despite his prodding, she refused to tell him what Arya had said to her. Eventually his thoughts turned to Murtagh and then to Nasuada’s advice.I’ll get something to eat, then go see him, he decided.Will you wait for me so I can return to the dragonhold with you?

I will wait—go,said Saphira.

With a grateful smile, Eragon dashed to Tronjheim, ate in an obscure corner of a kitchen, then followed Nasuada’s instructions until he reached a small gray door guarded by a man and a dwarf. When he requested entrance, the dwarf banged on the door three times, then unbolted it. “Just holler when you want to leave,” said the man with a friendly smile.