“Do you still have your heart of hearts within you?” Eragon asked.

The grass around the table bent under the blast of hot air that erupted from Glaedr’s nostrils. That is not a meet question to ask any dragon but Saphira. Do not presume to put it to me again, hatchling.

Although Glaedr’s rebuke made Eragon’s cheeks sting, he still had the wherewithal to respond as he should, with a seated bow and the words “No, Master.” Then he asked, “What . . . what happens if your Eldunarí breaks?”

If a dragon has already transferred their consciousness to their heart of hearts, then they will die a true death. With an audible click, Glaedr blinked, his inner and outer eyelids flashing across the rayed orb of his iris. Before we formed our pact with the elves, we kept our hearts in Du Fells Nángoröth, the mountains in the center of the Hadarac Desert. Later, after the Riders established themselves on the island of Vroengard and therein built a repository for the Eldunarí, wild dragons and paired dragons both entrusted their hearts to the Riders for safekeeping.

“So then,” said Eragon, “Galbatorix captured the Eldunarí?”

Contrary to Eragon’s expectations, it was Oromis who replied. “He did, but not all at once. It had been so long since anyone had truly threatened the Riders, many of our order had become careless about protecting the Eldunarí. At the time Galbatorix turned against us, it was not uncommon for a Rider’s dragon to disgorge their Eldunarí merely for the sake of convenience.”

“Convenience?”

Anyone who holds one of our hearts, said Glaedr, may communicate with the dragon from which it came without regard for distance. The whole of Alagaësia might separate a Rider and dragon, and yet if the Rider had with him his dragon’s Eldunarí, they could share thoughts as easily as you and Saphira do now.

“In addition,” said Oromis, “a magician who possesses an Eldunarí can draw upon the dragon’s strength to bolster his spells, again without regard for where the dragon might be. When—”

A brilliantly colored hummingbird interrupted their conversation by darting across the table. Its wings a throbbing blur, the bird hovered over the bowls of fruit and lapped at the liquid oozing from a crushed blackberry, then flitted up and away, vanishing among the trunks of the forest.

Oromis resumed speaking: “When Galbatorix killed his first Rider, he also stole the heart of the Rider’s dragon. During the years Galbatorix spent hiding in the wilderness thereafter, he broke the dragon’s mind and bent it to his will, likely with the help of Durza. And when Galbatorix began his insurrection in earnest, with Morzan by his side, he was already stronger than most every other Rider. His strength was not merely magical but mental, for the force of the Eldunarí’s consciousness augmented his own.

“Galbatorix did not just try to kill the Riders and dragons. He made it his goal to acquire as many of the Eldunarí as he could, either by seizing them from Riders or by torturing a Rider until his dragon disgorged its heart of hearts. By the time we realized what Galbatorix was doing, he was already too powerful to stop. It helped Galbatorix that many Riders traveled not only with the Eldunarí of their own dragon but also with Eldunarí of dragons whose bodies were no more, for such dragons often became bored with sitting in an alcove and yearned for adventure. And of course, once Galbatorix and the Forsworn sacked the city of Doru Araeba on the island of Vroengard, he gained possession of the entire hoard of Eldunarí stored therein.

“Galbatorix engineered his success by using the might and wisdom of the dragons against all of Alagaësia. At first he was unable to control more than a handful of the Eldunarí he had captured. It is no easy thing to force a dragon to submit to you, no matter how powerful you might be. As soon as Galbatorix crushed the Riders and had installed himself as king in Urû’baen, he dedicated himself to subduing the rest of the hearts, one by one.

“We believe the task preoccupied him for the main part of the next forty years, during which time he paid little attention to the affairs of Alagaësia—which is why the people of Surda were able to secede from the Empire. When he finished, Galbatorix emerged from seclusion and began to reassert his control over the Empire and the lands beyond. For some reason, after two and a half years of additional slaughter and sorrow, he withdrew to Urû’baen again, and there he has dwelt ever since, not so solitary as before, but obviously focused upon some project known only to him. His vices are many, but he has not abandoned himself to debauchery; that much the Varden’s spies have determined. More than that, though, we have not been able to discover.”

Lost deep in thought, Eragon stared off into the distance. For the first time, all of the stories he had heard about Galbatorix’s unnatural power made sense. A faint feeling of optimism welled up within Eragon as he said to himself, I’m not sure how, but if we could release the Eldunarí from Galbatorix’s control, he would be no more powerful than any normal Dragon Rider. Unlikely as the prospect seemed, it heartened Eragon to know that the king did have a vulnerability, no matter how slight.

As Eragon continued to muse upon the subject, another question occurred to him. “Why is it that I’ve never heard mention of the hearts of dragons in the stories of old? Surely if they are so important, the bards and scholars would speak of them.”

Oromis laid a hand flat on the table then and said, “Of all the secrets in Alagaësia, that of the Eldunarí is one of the most closely guarded, even among my own people. Throughout history, dragons have striven to hide their hearts from the rest of the world. They revealed their existence to us only after the magical pact between our races was established, and then only to a select few.”