Orrin scowled and looked as if he was going to continue arguing, but Glaedr preempted him by saying, They did as I asked, King of the Surdans. The Eldunarí are the greatest secret of our race, and we do not share it lightly with others, even kings.
“Then why have you chosen to do so now?” demanded Orrin. “You could have gone into battle without ever revealing yourself.”
In answer, Eragon recounted the story of their trip to Vroengard, including their encounter with the storm at sea and the sight they had witnessed at the very top of the clouds. Arya and Blödhgarm seemed the most interested in that part of his story, whereas Orik was the most uncomfortable.
“Barzûl, but that sounds a nasty experience,” he said. “It makes me shiver just to think of it. The ground is the proper place for a dwarf, not the sky.”
I agree, said Saphira, which caused Orik to scowl suspiciously and twist the braided ends of his beard.
Resuming his tale, Eragon told of how he, Saphira, and Glaedr had entered the Vault of Souls, though he refrained from divulging that this had required their true names. And when he at last revealed what the vault had contained, there was a moment of shocked silence.
Then Eragon said, “Open your minds.”
A moment later, the sound of whispering voices seemed to fill the air, and Eragon felt the presence of Umaroth and the other hidden dragons surround them.
The elves staggered, and Arya dropped to one knee, pressing a hand to the side of her head as if she had been struck. Orik uttered a cry and looked about, wild-eyed, while Roran, Jörmundur, and Orrin stood dumbfounded.
Queen Islanzadí knelt, adopting a pose much like her daughter’s. In his mind, Eragon heard her speaking to the dragons, greeting many by name and welcoming them as old friends. Blödhgarm did likewise, and for several minutes a flurry of thoughts passed between the dragons and those gathered at the base of the hill.
The mental cacophony was so great, Eragon shielded himself from it and retreated to sit on one of Saphira’s forelegs while he waited for the noise to subside. The elves seemed most affected by the revelation: Blödhgarm stared into the air with an expression of joy and wonder, while Arya continued to kneel. Eragon thought he saw a line of tears on each of her cheeks. Islanzadí beamed with a triumphant radiance, and for the first time since he had met her, Eragon thought she seemed truly happy.
Orik shook himself then and broke from his reverie. Looking over at Eragon, he said, “By Morgothal’s hammer, this puts a new twist on things! With their help, we might actually be able to kill Galbatorix!”
“You didn’t think we could before?” Eragon asked mildly.
“Of course I did. Only not so much as I do now.”
Roran shook himself, as if waking from a dream. “I didn’t.… I knew that you and the elves would fight as hard as you could, but I didn’t believe you could win.” He met Eragon’s gaze. “Galbatorix has defeated so many Riders, and you’re but one, and not that old. It didn’t seem possible.”
“I know.”
“Now, though …” A wolfish look came into Roran’s eyes. “Now we have a chance.”
“Aye,” said Jörmundur. “And just think: we no longer have to worry so much about Murtagh. He’s no match for you and the dragons combined.”
Eragon drummed his heels against Saphira’s leg and did not answer. He had other ideas on that front. Besides, he did not like to consider having to kill Murtagh.
Then Orrin spoke up. “Umaroth says that you have devised a battle plan. Do you intend to share it with us, Shadeslayer?”
“I would like to hear it as well,” said Islanzadí in a kinder tone.
“And I,” said Orik.
Eragon stared at them for a moment, then nodded. To Islanzadí, he said, “Is your army ready to fight?”
“It is. Long we have waited for our vengeance; we need wait no longer.”
“And ours?” Eragon asked, directing his words toward Orrin, Jörmundur, and Orik.
“Mine knurlan are eager for battle,” proclaimed Orik.
Jörmundur glanced at King Orrin. “Our men are tired and hungry, but their will is unbroken.”
“The Urgals too?”
“Them too.”
“Then we attack.”