She pressed her lips together, as if struggling not to cry. Then she stepped forward and embraced him. He hugged her back, and they stood like that for several seconds.
They parted then, and he said, “Nasuada, if you ever tire of being queen, or you want a place to live in peace, come join us. You’ll always be welcome in our hall. I cannot make you immortal, but I could prolong your years far beyond what most humans enjoy, and they would be spent in good health.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the offer, and I won’t forget it.” However, he had a feeling that she would never be able to bring herself to leave Alagaësia, no matter how old she was. Her sense of duty was too strong.
Then he asked, “Will you give us your blessing?”
“Of course.” She took his head between her hands, kissed him upon his brow, and said, “My blessings upon you and Saphira. May peace and good fortune be with you wherever you go.”
“And with you,” he said.
She kept her hands upon him for another moment; then she released him, and he opened the glass door and exited through her study, leaving her standing alone upon the balcony.
BLOOD PRICE
s Eragon made his way down a flight of steps on his way toward the main entrance of the building, he happened upon the herbalist, Angela, sitting cross-legged in the dark alcove of a door. She was knitting what appeared to be a blue and white hat with strange runes along its lower part, the meaning of which was lost on him. Next to her lay Solembum, his head propped up in her lap and one of his heavy paws resting atop her right knee.
Eragon stopped, surprised. He had not seen either of them since—it took him a moment to remember—since shortly after the battle in Urû’baen. Thereafter, they had seemed to disappear.
“Greetings,” said Angela without looking up.
“Greetings,” replied Eragon. “What are you doing here?”
“Knitting a hat.”
“That I can see, but why here?”
“Because I wanted to see you.” Her needles clacked with swift regularity, their motion as entrancing as the flames of a fire. “I heard tell that you, Saphira, the eggs, and the Eldunarí are leaving Alagaësia.”
“As you predicted,” he retorted, frustrated that she had been able to discover what ought to have been the deepest secret. She could not have eavesdropped upon him and Nasuada—his wards would have prevented it—and so far as he knew, no one had told her or Solembum about the existence of the eggs or the Eldunarí.
“Well, yes, but I didn’t think to see you off.”
“How did you find out? From Arya?”
“Her? Ha! Hardly. No, I have my own ways of gathering information.” She paused in her knitting and looked up at him, her eyes twinkling. “Not that I’ll share them with you. I have to keep some secrets, after all.”
“Humph.”
“Humph yourself. If you’re going to be that way, I’m not sure why I bothered coming.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a bit … uneasy.” After a moment, Eragon said, “Why did you want to see me?”
“I wanted to say farewell and to wish you luck on your journey.”
“Thank you.”
“Mmh. Try not to let yourself get too wrapped up in your head wherever you settle. Make sure you get out in the sun often enough.”
“I will. What of you and Solembum? Will you stay here for a while and watch over Elva? You mentioned you would.”
The herbalist snorted in a very unladylike fashion. “Stay? How can I stay when Nasuada seems intent on spying on every magician in the land?”
“You heard about that as well?”
She gave him a look. “I disapprove. I disapprove very much. I will not be treated like a child who has done something naughty. No, the time has come for Solembum and me to relocate to more friendly climes: the Beor Mountains, perhaps, or Du Weldenvarden.”
Eragon hesitated for a moment and then said, “Would you like to come with Saphira and me?”