Eragon Page #2

Please, don't kill me.

Eragon. It's you they want.

- Take me down.

- You're in danger.

What are you doing?

I have to warn my uncle.

It's too late. There's nothing you can do.

Hold on.

You're ridiculous. Hold on.

- I'm begging. Please put me down now.

- I can't. They'll kill you.

- Take me down now.

- You stupid boy.

I'm slipping.

Take me down now.

You're giving me no choice.

Uncle? Uncle.

Eragon?

I should have been here.

To warn him.

- This is your fault.

- You would have met the same fate.

No. I could have saved him.

Go away.

And stay away.

Uncle, I'm sorry.

- You?

- Let go of me.

- Where's your dragon?

- Gone.

- What do you mean, "gone"?

- I sent her away.

You can't stay here and mourn him--

I'm not going anywhere.

Not until I bury him.

- There.

- What are you doing?

A funeral fit for a king. Come.

- Let go.

- Listen...

...they killed him, but they were after you.

If we stay here, we're both dead.

Now get on that horse. Go on.

Get up there.

- Who are you?

- Ride. Now. Go on.

Come on, boy. Ride.

- Why here?

- Because I said here.

- Call your dragon.

- My uncle was killed because of her.

She was protecting you

against the Ra'zac.

- I could have killed them.

- That's the spirit.

One part brave, three parts fool.

What, you don't think I could do it?

The Ra'zac kill mercilessly.

That's what they do.

- But a boy of 15, 16--

- Seventeen.

Seventeen. Forgive me.

Well, I think even a 17-year-old boy...

...might probably last a minute

against Durza's assassins.

Then I'll find Durza and kill him.

Durza's a Shade.

A sorcerer possessed with demonic spirits.

Find Durza,

you'll be no better off than your uncle.

You just pray to heaven he doesn't find you

because the king won't rest until he does.

You are the Varden's only hope.

- Who are the Varden?

- Rebels. Outcasts.

Men who are brave or mad enough

to oppose Galbatorix.

They built a stronghold

in the Beor Mountains.

How do you know all this?

Because I've been about a bit.

I've seen things...

...you could never imagine.

Now call your dragon.

She's far away by now. She can't hear me.

Shall we have an agreement

not to lie to each other?

I know she hears your thoughts.

Now call your dragon.

Saphira? Can you find us?

I never left you.

- I'm sorry for what I said.

- I understand.

You loved him very much.

- And who might this be?

- This is Brom.

He knows about dragons.

He knows about dragons?

I'll be the judge of that.

Easy. I think he's a friend.

Muscular.

Graceful proportions.

Talons...

...nicely curved.

Legs a bit thin.

Only my voice is gentle, old man.

Spikes sharp.

All in all...

...a fine young dragon.

Well, he does know a bit about dragons.

And soon, strong enough to ride.

Not me. I won't do it again.

My story was about you, Eragon.

It is your fate to be a Dragon Rider.

The Varden need a rider

if they are to defeat Durza and the king.

- I didn't ask for any of this.

- But you were chosen nevertheless.

A dragon will only hatch

if it feels the presence of its rider.

It'll wait forever, if it has to.

What he says is true.

But now it's found you.

It will serve you and only you,

and that's put your life in danger.

- Because it chose me?

- No.

Because the easiest way for the king

to destroy your dragon is to kill you.

A rider will live on if his dragon is killed.

But if a rider dies...

So does his dragon.

Handsome blade.

Simple...

...and to the point.

The farm boy evaded the Ra'zac.

Bring me his head.

Durza will send his Urgals after us.

Ahead, five hard days ride,

is the river town of Daret...

...the last outpost before the foothills.

Now, if we can get there without

being discovered, we have a chance.

Tell Saphira to fly above us

and scout the countryside for Urgals...

...or worse, Ra'zacs.

If they find us, we'll have no chance.

And tell her only to come to us at night.

Do as he says.

But be careful.

You be careful.

This way.

Urgals. They used to be the king's enemies.

Now they're his guard.

Oh, they're closer to us than I thought.

We better stay off the roads.

- Why can't we take them?

- Quiet.

You're not ready to take anything yet.

I have skills. I can fight.

My cousin, Roran and I.

We've trained.

- With swords.

- Well, then...

...perhaps I've underestimated you.

Right, then.

Let's see these skills of yours.

You know, this won't be fair to you,

old man.

Humor me.

Oh, dear.

Well, I see the effect of your training.

Good. Good.

Don't get overconfident.

It won't be your cousin Roran

you're fighting.

And it won't be wooden staves, either.

I could've beaten him.

I just didn't want to hurt the old man.

Of course you could have.

Don't dragons breathe fire?

She's not old enough to sustain a flame.

Lucky for you.

How did you do that?

What did you just do?

I started a fire.

He doesn't trust me.

Maybe we need to trust him first.

Now get to sleep. With any luck,

tomorrow, by the end of the day...

...we will have

slipped through Daret unseen.

Then it's the foothills of the Beor Mountains

and a straight shot to the Varden.

Eragon, wake up. Come on, wake up.

We're at the village of Daret.

We'll leave the horses here.

Keep Saphira close.

Buy us some bread down there.

Come back, meet me here.

I won't be long.

Don't talk to anybody.

Do you wish Angela to read your fortune?

- But I have no money.

- Did Angela ask for money?

Knucklebones of a dragon.

They will tell me everything about you.

This is difficult.

A young life so tangled.

But you have been long awaited

by many races.

Great battles rage around you.

It can't be. I don't understand.

You have powers you do not acknowledge,

but there is a doom upon you.

Part of it lies in a death

that rapidly approaches.

No. It's already happened.

And a girl.

She calls to you in your dreams.

She's part of your past...

...and your future.

Who is she? Tell me her name.

Do I have to do everything myself?

- The fortuneteller--

- Did she tell you about him, huh?

Come on.

Where's everybody gone?

- She told me my future.

- The future is for the living, Eragon.

Come on!

Saphira!

Eragon.

Eragon.

My hand. It burns.

Slowly, slowly, slowly.

My head.

Feels like I've been kicked by a horse.

What happened?

Most new Dragon Riders take years to learn

what you discovered by instinct.

- What was that?

- Magic.

I was only reacting.

Magic comes from dragons.

It flows through the riders

who command them.

- Saphira.

- She's fine.

But she felt your fear as her own.

Your bond with her is strong.

- Those were Urgals, weren't they?

- Yes.

- Did I kill them?

- Yes.

But death is nothing to celebrate.

Magic must be your last resort.

It has rules. It has limitations.

Before you cast a spell, you must learn

the ancient language of the elves.

Brisingr means "fire." Is fire.

The thing is the word.

Know the word and you control the thing.

Before you can cast a spell...

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