Bewildered, Eragon put a hand to his temple.How could Brom speak to Saphira? The back of his head throbbed and ideas whirled through his mind, but he kept reaching the same conclusion: he had to tell the old man something. He said, “I was going to find a safe place to stay while I heal.”
“And after that?”
The question could not be ignored. The throbbing in his head grew worse. It was impossible to think; nothing seemed clear anymore. All he wanted to do was tell someone about the events of the past few months. It tore at him that his secret had caused Garrow’s death. He gave up and said tremulously, “I was going to hunt down the strangers and kill them.”
“A mighty task for one so young,” Brom said in a normal tone, as if Eragon had proposed the most obvious and suitable thing to do. “Certainly a worthy endeavor and one you are fit to carry out, yet it strikes me that help would not be unwelcome.” He reached behind a bush and pulled out a large pack. His tone became gruff. “Anyway, I’m not going to stay behind while some stripling gets to run around with a dragon.”
Is he really offering help, or is it a trap?Eragon was afraid of what his mysterious enemies could do.But Brom convinced Saphira to trust him, and they’ve talked through the mind touch.If she isn’t worried. . He decided to put his suspicions aside for the present. “I don’t need help,” said Eragon, then grudgingly added, “but you can come.”
“Then we had best be going,” said Brom. His face blanked for a moment. “I think you’ll find that your dragon will listen to you again.”
Saphira?asked Eragon.
Yes.
He resisted the urge to question her.Will you meet us at the farm?
Yes. So you reached an agreement?
I guess so.She broke contact and soared away. He glanced at Carvahall and saw people ru
Brom raised an eyebrow. “Probably. Shall we go?”
Eragon hesitated. “I’d like to leave a message for Roran. It doesn’t seem right to run off without telling him why.”
“It’s been taken care of,” assured Brom. “I left a letter for him with Gertrude, explaining a few things. I also cautioned him to be on guard for certain dangers. Is that satisfactory?”
Eragon nodded. He wrapped the leather around the meat and started off. They were careful to stay out of sight until they reached the road, then quickened their pace, eager to distance themselves from Carvahall. Eragon plowed ahead determinedly, his legs burning. The mindless rhythm of walking freed his mind to think.Once we get home, I won’t travel any farther with Brom until I get some answers, he told himself firmly. I hope that he can tell me more about the Riders and whom I’m fighting.
As the wreckage of the farm came into view, Brom’s eyebrows beetled with anger. Eragon was dismayed to see how swiftly nature was reclaiming the farm. Snow and dirt were already piled inside the house, concealing the violence of the strangers’ attack. All that remained of the barn was a rapidly eroding rectangle of soot.
Brom’s head snapped up as the sound of Saphira’s wings drifted over the trees. She dived past them from behind, almost brushing their heads. They staggered as a wall of air buffeted them. Saphira’s scales glittered as she wheeled over the farm and landed gracefully.
Brom stepped forward with an expression both solemn and joyous. His eyes were shining, and a tear shone on his cheek before it disappeared into his beard. He stood there for a long while, breathing heavily as he watched Saphira, and she him. Eragon heard him muttering and edged closer to listen.
“So. . it starts again. But how and where will it end? My sight is veiled; I ca
Whatever else he might have said faded away as Saphira proudly approached them. Eragon passed Brom, pretended he had heard nothing, and greeted her. There was something different between them now, as if they knew each other even more intimately, yet were still strangers. He rubbed her neck, and his palm tingled as their minds touched. A strong curiosity came from her.