“You don’t know?!” exclaimed Eragon in disbelief.
Must you repeat everything I say?
“How can you not know?”
I don’t know.
Leaning forward, Eragon grabbed Solembum’s large, heavy paw. The werecat’s ears flattened, and he hissed and curled his paw inward, digging his claws into Eragon’s hand. Eragon smiled tightly and ignored the pain. The werecat was stronger than he had expected, almost strong enough to pull him off the stool.
“No more riddles,” Eragon said. “I need the truth, Solembum. Where did you get this information and what does it mean?”
The fur along Solembum’s spine bristled. Sometimes riddles are the truth, you thick-headed human. Now let me go, or I’ll tear your face off and feed your guts to the crows.
Eragon maintained his grip for a moment longer, then he released Solembum’s paw and leaned back. He clenched his hand to help dull the pain and stop the bleeding.
Solembum glared at him with slitted eyes, all pretense of detachment gone. I said I don’t know because, despite what you might think, I do not know. I have no knowledge of where the Rock of Kuthian might lie, nor how you might open the Vault of Souls, nor what the vault might contain.
“Say that in the ancient language.”
Solembum’s eyes narrowed even farther, but he repeated himself in the tongue of the elves, and then Eragon knew he was speaking the truth.
So many questions occurred to Eragon, he hardly knew which to ask first. “How did you learn of the Rock of Kuthian, then?”
Again Solembum’s tail lashed from side to side, flattening wrinkles in the blanket. For the last time, I do not know. Nor do any of my kind.
“Then how …?” Eragon trailed off, overcome by confusion.
Soon after the fall of the Riders, a certain conviction came upon the members of our race that, should we encounter a new Rider, one who was not beholden to Galbatorix, we should tell him or her what I told you: of the Menoa tree and of the Rock of Kuthian.
“But … where did the information come from?”
Solembum’s muzzle wrinkled as he bared his teeth in an unpleasant smile. That we cannot say, only that whoever or whatever was responsible for it meant well.
“How can you know that?” exclaimed Eragon. “What if it was Galbatorix? He could be trying to trick you. He could be trying to trick Saphira and me, so as to capture us.”
No, said Solembum, and his claws sank into the blanket under him. Werecats are not so easily fooled as others. Galbatorix is not the one behind this. Of that, I am sure. Whoever wanted you to have this information is the same person or creature who arranged for you to find the brightsteel for your sword. Would Galbatorix have done that?
Eragon frowned. “Haven’t you tried to find out who is behind this?”
We have.
“And?”
We failed. The werecat ruffled his fur. There are two possibilities. One, that our memories were altered against our will and we are the pawns of some nefarious entity. Or two, that we agreed to the alteration, for whatever reason. Perhaps we even excised the memories ourselves. I find it difficult and distasteful to believe that anyone could have succeeded in meddling with our minds. A few of us, I could understand. But our entire race? No. It cannot be.
Why would you, the werecats, have been entrusted with this information?
Because, I would guess, we have always been friends of the Riders and friends of the dragons.… We are the watchers. The listeners. The wanderers. We walk alone in the dark places of the world, and we remember what is and what has been.
Solembum’s gaze shifted away. Understand this, Eragon. None of us have been happy with the situation. We long debated whether it would cause more harm than good to pass on this information should the moment arise. In the end, the decision was mine, and I decided to tell you, for it seemed you needed all the help you could get. Make of it what you will.
“But what am I supposed to do?” said Eragon. “How am I supposed to find the Rock of Kuthian?”
That I cannot say.
“Then what use is the information? I might as well have never heard it.”
Solembum blinked, once. There is one other thing I can tell you. It may mean nothing, but perhaps it can show you the way.