Percy's Point of view

"What do you mean?" asked Roran, I wasn't sure what he was talking about either though.

To all of us Eragon said, "Remember how I said that we could easily handle the Ra'zac?"

"Aye." Roran acknowledged.

And so we can,said Saphira.

Eragon continued, "Well, I was thinking about it while we spied on Helgrind, and I'm not so sure anymore. There are almost an infinite number of ways to do something with magic. For example, if I want to light a fire, I could light it with heat gathered from the air or the ground; I could create a flame out of pure energy; I could summon a bolt of lightning; I could concentrate a raft of sunbeams into a single point; I could use friction; and so forth."

"So?"

"The problem is, even though I can devise numerous spells to perform this one action,blocking those spells might require but a single counterspell. If you prevent the action itself from taking place, then you don't have to tailor your counterspell to address the unique properties of each individual spell."

I nodded understanding where he was going with this conversation.

"I still don't understand what this has to do with tomorrow." Roran said.

I do,said Saphira to all of us. it seemed that She had immediately grasped the means that, over the past century, Galbatorix —

"—may have placed wards around the Ra'zac—"

—that will protect them against—

"—a whole range of spells. I probably won't—"

—be able to kill them with any—

"—of the words of death I was taught, nor any—"

—attacks that we can invent now or then. We may—

"—have to rely—"

"Stop!" exclaimed Roran. He gave a pained smile. "Stop, please. My head hurts when you do that."

Eragon paused with his mouth open; until that moment, he had been unaware that he and Saphira were speaking in turn.

He closed his mouth and chuckled. "Sorry. What I'm worried about is this: if Galbatorix has had the foresight to take certain precautions, then force of arms may be the only means by which we can slay the Ra'zac. If that's true—"

"I'll just be in your way tomorrow."

"Nonsense. You may be slower than the Ra'zac, but I have no doubt you'll give them cause to fear your weapon, Roran Stronghammer." The compliment seemed to please Roran. "The greatest danger for you is that the Ra'zac or the Lethrblaka will manage to separate you from us. The closer we stay together, the safer we'll all be. Saphira, Percy, Agrios, and I will try to keep the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka occupied, but some of them may slip past us. Fortunately there are more of us than them so we should be able to keep them occupied, "

I spoke up, "I believe Eragon is right, Magic may not be of much use to us tomorrow, but there are enough of us that we should still be able to succeed with just our weapons,"

Continuing the strand of conversation he had been privy to, Roran said, "This magic is a tricky business." The log he sat on gave a drawn-out groan as he rested his elbows on his knees.

"It is," Eragon agreed. "The hardest part is trying to anticipate every possible spell; I spend most of my time asking how can I protect myself if I'm attacked like this and would another magician expect me to do that ."

"Could you make me as strong and fast as you are?"

Eragon considered the suggestion for several minutes before saying, "I don't see how. The energy needed to do that would have to come from somewhere. Saphira and I could give it to you, but then we would lose as much speed or strength as you gained."

"Then can you teach me to use magic?" When Eragon hesitated, Roran added, "Not now, of course. We don't have the time, and I don't expect one can become a magician overnight anyway. But in general, why not? You and I are cousins. We share much the same blood. And it would be a valuable skill to have."

"I don't know how someone who's not a Rider learns to use magic," confessed Eragon. "It's not something I studied." Glancing around, he plucked a flat, round stone from the ground and tossed it to Roran, who caught it backhand. "Here, try this: concentrate on lifting the rock a foot or so into the air and say, 'Stenr rïsa.' "

"Stenr rïsa?"

"Exactly."

Roran frowned at the stone resting on his palm Roran's eyebrows met, his lips tightened into a snarl, and he growled, "Stenr rïsa!" with enough intensity, I half expected the stone to fly out of sight.

Nothing happened.

Scowling even harder, Roran repeated his command: "Stenr rïsa!"

The stone exhibited a profound lack of movement.

After that happened I knew he might not have the ability to use magic, but I didn't really want to be the one to burst his bubble either.

"Well," said Eragon, "keep trying. That's the only advice I can give you. But"—and here he raised a finger—"if you should happen to succeed, make sure you immediately come to me, Percy, or, if we're not around, another magician. You could kill yourself and others if you start experimenting with magic without understanding the rules. If nothing else, remember this: if you cast a spell that requires too much energy, you will die. Don't take on projects that are beyond your abilities, don't try to bring back the dead, and don't try to unmake anything."

Roran nodded, still looking at the stone.

then he moved his gaze to me, "I don't recall you ever mentioning that you could use magic, other than the abilities you have from your father and the other gods who blessed you,"

I replied, "I never mentioned it because I only found out that I could do it when Hecate visited me on the Dragon Wing. In addition to giving me my armor, sword and saddle she also told me that I could use magic and gave me the knowledge of how to use it, In the evenings when I would fly with Agrios we would often land somewhere secluded so I could practice it without having to worry about upsetting someone or possibly hurting someone by accident,"

Roran didn't seem too annoyed that I'd kept that from him until now, which I was happy about since I consider him a friend.

Eragon spoke up again, "Magic aside, I just realized there's something far more important that you need to learn."

"Oh?"

"Yes, you need to be able to hide your thoughts from the Black Hand, Du Vrangr Gata, and others like them. You know a lot of things now that could harm the Varden. It's crucial, then, that you master this skill as soon as we return. Until you can defend yourself from spies, neither Nasuada nor I nor anyone else can trust you with information that might help our enemies."

"I understand. But why did you include Du Vrangr Gata in that list? They serve you and Nasuada."

"They do, but even among our allies there are more than a few people who would give their right arm"—he grimaced at the appropriateness of the phrase—"to ferret out our plans and secrets. And yours too, no less. You have become a somebody, Roran. Partly because of your deeds, and partly because we are related."

"I know. It is strange to be recognized by those you have not met."

"That it is." Eraogon acknowledged.

"Now that you know what it feels like when one mind touches another, you might be able to learn to reach out and touch other minds in turn."

"I'm not sure that is an ability I want to have."

"No matter; you also might not be able to do it. Either way, before you spend time finding out, you should first devote yourself to the art of defense."

His cousin cocked an eyebrow. "How?"

"Choose something—a sound, an image, an emotion, anything—and let it swell within your mind until it blots out any other thoughts."

"That's all?"

"It's not as easy as you think. Go on; take a stab at it. When you're ready, let me know, and I'll see how well you've done."

Several moments passed. before Roran flicked his fingers and I assumed Eragon was trying to breach his mental barriers.

Not too long afterward Roran shifted his left leg and the wood underneath released a harsh squeal.

Soon Eragon said out loud, "but you have to learn to maintain your concentration even when you're in the middle of a battle. You must learn to think without thinking . . . to empty yourself of all hopes and worries, save that one idea that is your armor. Something the elves taught me, which I have found helpful, is to recite a riddle or a piece of a poem or song. Having an action that you can repeat over and over again makes it much easier to keep your mind from straying."

"I'll work on it," promised Roran.

In a quiet voice, Eragon said, "You really love her, don't you?" It was more a statement of truth and wonder than a question—the answer being self-evident. "How did it happen?"

That made me realise that Roran must have used his memories of Katrina as his mental armour.

"I liked her. She liked me. What importance are the details?"

"Come now," said Eragon. "I was too angry to ask before you left for Therinsford, and we have not seen each other again until just four days ago. I'm curious."

The skin around Roran's eyes pulled and wrinkled as he rubbed his temples. "There's not much to tell. I've always been partial to her. It meant little before I was a man, but after my rites of passage, I began to wonder whom I would marry and whom I wanted to become the mother of my children. During one of our visits to Carvahall, I saw Katrina stop by the side of Loring's house to pick a moss rose growing in the shade of the eaves. She smiled as she looked at the

flower. . . . It was such a tender smile, and so happy, I decided right then that I wanted to make her smile like that again and again and that I wanted to look at that smile until the day I died." Tears gleamed in Roran's eyes, but they did not fall, and a second later, he blinked and they vanished. "I fear I have failed in that regard."

After a respectful pause, Eragon said, "You courted her, then?

Aside from using me to ferry compliments to Katrina, how else did you proceed?"

"You ask like one who seeks instruction." Roran said.

"I did not. You're imagining—"

I was trying not to laugh at what Eragon was saying, His feelings for the elf Arya were obvious

"Come now, yourself," said Roran. "I know when you're lying. You get that big foolish grin, and your ears turn red. The elves may have given you a new face, but that part of you hasn't changed. What is it that exists between you and Arya?"

Clearly Roran had noticed his cousin's feelings as will which wasn't really surprising considering how close they were.

"Nothing! The moon has addled your brain." Eragon Protested.

I snorted, and that didn't help Eragon's mood.

"Be honest. You dote upon her words as if each one were a diamond, and your gaze lingers upon her as if you were starving and she a grand feast arrayed an inch beyond your reach." Roran argued.

A plume of dark gray smoke erupted from Saphira's nostrils as she made a choking-like noise. Clearly I wasn't the only one who was amused.

Eragon ignored her suppressed merriment and said, "Arya is an elf."

"And very beautiful. Pointed ears and slanted eyes are small flaws when compared with her charms. You look like a cat yourself now." Roran pointed out.

"Arya is over a hundred years old."

That particular piece of information caught Roran by surprise; his eyebrows went up, and he said, "I find that hard to believe! She's in the prime of her youth."

That news didn't surprise me that much since I was used to interacting with beings who were usually older than they looked.

"It's true." Eragon said.

"Well, be that as it may, these are reasons you give me, Eragon, and the heart rarely listens to reason. Do you fancy her or not?"

If he fancied her any more,Saphira said to all of us, I'd be trying to kiss Arya myself .

" Saphira!" Eragon shouted, Mortified, and swatted her on the leg.

Roran was prudent enough not to rib Eragon further. "Then answer my original question and tell me how things stand between you and Arya. Have you spoken to her or her family about this? I have found it's unwise to let such matters fester."

"Aye," said Eragon, and stared at the length of polished hawthorn. "I spoke with her."

"To what end?" When Eragon did not immediately reply, Roran uttered a frustrated exclamation. "Getting answers out of you is harder than dragging Birka through the mud." Eragon chuckled at that.

I didn't know who Birka was, I assumed it was probably a farm animal of some kind.

"Saphira, will you solve this puzzle for me? Otherwise, I fear I'll never get a full explanation." Roran asked.

"To no end. No end at all. She'll not have me." Eragon spoke dispassionately, as if commenting on a stranger's misfortune.

"I'm sorry," said Roran. and I nodded in agreement.

Eragon replied, "It happens."

"I know it may seem unlikely at the moment," said Roran, "but I'm sure you will meet another woman who will make you forget this Arya. There are countless maids—and more than a few married women, I'd wager—who would be delighted to catch the eye of a Rider. You'll have no trouble finding a wife among all the lovelies in Alagaësia."

"And what would you have done if Katrina rejected your suit?"

The question struck Roran dumb; it was obvious he could not imagine how he might have reacted.

Eragon continued. "Contrary to what you, Arya, and everyone else seem to believe, Iam aware that other eligible women exist in Alagaësia and that people have been known to fall in love more than once. No doubt, if I spent my days in the company of ladies from King Orrin's court, I might indeed decide that I fancy one. However, my path is not so easy as that. Regardless of whether I can shift my affections to another—and the heart, as you observed, is a notoriously fickle beast—the question remains: should I?"

"Your tongue has grown as twisted as the roots of a fir tree," said Roran. "Speak not in riddles."

"Very well: what human woman can begin to understand who and what I am, or the extent of my powers? Who could share in my life? Few enough, and all of them magicians. And of that select group, or even of women in general, how many are immortal?"

Roran laughed, a rough, hearty bellow that rang loud in the gulch. "You might as well ask for the sun in your pocket or—" He stopped and tensed as if he were about to spring forward and then became unnaturally still. "You cannot be."

"I am."

Roran struggled to find words. "Is it a result of your change in Ellesméra, or is it part of being a Rider?"

"Part of being a Rider."

"That explains why Galbatorix hasn't died."

"Aye."

That's when something else seemed to dawn on Roran, and his gaze shifted to me, "That means you are as well, "

"Yes, I never mentioned it because I only found out myself when Hecate visited me, and while we were on the ship we had other things to worry about.

The branch Roran had added to the fire burst asunder with a muted pop as the coals underneath heated the gnarled length of wood to the point where a small cache of water or sap that had somehow evaded the rays of the sun for untold decades exploded into steam.

Roran continued, "The idea is so . . .vast, it's almost inconceivable," "Death is part of who we are. It guides us. It shapes us. It drives us to madness. Can you still be human if you have no mortal end?"

"We are not invincible," Eragon pointed out. "we can still be killed with a sword or an arrow. And we could still catch some incurable disease."

"But if you avoid those dangers, you will live forever."

"If we do, then yes. we will endure."

"It seems both a blessing and a curse."

"Aye. I cannot in good conscience marry a woman who will age and die while I remain untouched by time; such an experience would be equally cruel for both of us. On top of that, I find the thought of taking one wife after another throughout the long centuries rather depressing."

"Can you make someone immortal with magic?" asked Roran.

"You can darken white hair, you can smooth wrinkles and remove cataracts, and if you are willing to go to extraordinary lengths, you can give a sixty-year-old man the body he had at nineteen. However, the elves have never discovered a way to restore a person's mind without destroying his or her memories. And who wants to erase their identity every so many decades in exchange for immortality? It would be a stranger, then, who lived on. An old brain in a young body isn't the answer either, for even with the best of health, that which we humans are made of can only last for a century, perhaps a bit more. Nor can you just stop someone from aging. That causes a whole host of other problems. . . . Oh, elves and men have tried a thousand and one different ways to foil death, but none have proved successful."

"In other words," said Roran, "it's safer for you to love Arya than to leave your heart free for the taking by a human woman."

"Who else can I marry but an elf? Especially considering how I look now." "When I lived in Ellesméra, it was easy for me to accept how the dragons had changed my appearance. After all, they gave me many gifts besides. Also, the elves were friendlier toward me after the Agaetí Blödhren. It was only when I rejoined the Varden that I realized how different I've become. . . . It bothers me too. I'm no longer just human, and I'm not quite an elf. I'm something else in between: a mix, a halfbreed."

"Cheer up!" said Roran. "You may not have to worry about living forever. Galbatorix, Murtagh, the Ra'zac, or even one of the Empire's soldiers could put steel through us at any moment. A wise man would ignore the future and drink and carouse while he still has an opportunity to enjoy this world."

"I know what Father would say to that."

"And he'd give us a good hiding to boot."

They shared a laugh, and then lapsed into silence

You should sleep,said Saphira to Eragon and 's late, and we must rise early tomorrow .

Eragon looked at the black vault of the sky, judging the hour by how far the stars had rotated. The night was older than he expected. "Sound advice," he said. "I just wish we had a few more days to rest before we storm Helgrind. The battle on the Burning Plains drained all of Saphira's strength and my own, and we have not fully recovered, what with flying here and the energy I transferred into the belt of Beloth the Wise these past two evenings. My limbs still ache, and I have more bruises than I can count. Look. . . ." Loosening the ties on the cuff of his left shirtsleeve, he pushed back the revealing a rancid yellow streak where his shield had mashed against his forearm.

That was when I decided I should probably get some rest, and went to lie down for the night beside Agrios. As I was trying to fall asleep I could hear Roran and Eragon discussing the bruises they had acquired over the past few days, both of them arguing that their injuries were worse.