“Genius!” exclaimed Brom, smiling. “I wish I had thought of this years ago; it would have saved me many headaches. The coast is dotted with numerous cities and towns where ships can land. I suppose that Teirm would be the place to start, as it controls most of the trade.” Brom paused. “The last I heard, my old friend Jeod lives there. We haven’t seen each other for many years, but he might be willing to help us. And because he’s a merchant, it’s possible that he has access to those records.”

“How do we get to Teirm?”

“We’ll have to go southwest until we reach a high pass in the Spine. Once on the other side, we can head up the coast to Teirm,” said Brom. A gentle wind pulled at his hair.

“Can we reach the pass within a week?”

“Easily. If we angle away from the Ninor and to our right, we might be able to see the mountains by tomorrow.”

Eragon went to Saphira and mounted her. “I’ll see you at dinner, then.” When they were at a good height, he said,I’m going to ride Cadoc tomorrow. Before you protest, know that I am only doing it because I want to talk with Brom.

You should ride with him every other day. That way you can still receive your instruction, and I will have time to hunt.

You won’t be troubled by it?

It is necessary.

When they landed for the day, he was pleased to discover that his legs did not hurt. The saddle had protected him well from Saphira’s scales.

Eragon and Brom had their nightly fight, but it lacked energy, as both were preoccupied with the day’s events. By the time they finished, Eragon’s arms burned from Zar’roc’s unaccustomed weight.

AS ONG FOR

THEROAD

The next day while they were riding, Eragon asked Brom, “What is the sea like?”

“You must have heard it described before,” said Brom.

“Yes, but what is it really like?”

Brom’s eyes grew hazy, as if he looked upon some hidden scene. “The sea is emotion incarnate. It loves, hates, and weeps. It defies all attempts to capture it with words and rejects all shackles. No matter what you say about it, there is always that which you can’t. Do you remember what I told you about how the elves came over the sea?”

“Yes.”

“Though they live far from the coast, they retain a great fascination and passion for the ocean. The sound of crashing waves, the smell of salt air, it affects them deeply and has inspired many of their loveliest songs. There is one that tells of this love, if you want to hear it.”

“I would,” said Eragon, interested.

Brom cleared his throat and said, “I will translate it from the ancient language as best I can. It won’t be perfect, but perhaps it will give you an idea of how the original sounds.” He pulled Snowfire to a stop and closed his eyes. He was silent for a while, then chanted softly:

O liquid temptress ’neath the azure sky,

Your gilded expanse calls me, calls me.

For I would sail ever on,

Were it not for the elven maid,

Who calls me, calls me.

She binds my heart with a lily-white tie,

Never to be broken, save by the sea,

Ever to be torn twixt the trees and the waves.

The words echoed hauntingly in Eragon’s head. “There is much more to that song, the ‘Du Silbena Datia.’ I have only recited one of its verses. It tells the sad tale of two lovers, Acallamh and Nuada, who were separated by longing for the sea. The elves find great meaning in the story.”

“It’s beautiful,” said Eragon simply.

The Spine was a faint outline on the horizon when they halted that evening.

When they arrived at the Spine’s foothills, they turned and followed the mountains south. Eragon was glad to be near the mountains again; they placed comforting boundaries on the world. Three days later they came to a wide road rutted by wagon wheels. “This is the main road between the capital, Urû’baen, and Teirm,” said Brom. “It’s widely used and a favorite route for merchants. We have to be more cautious. This isn’t the busiest time of year, but a few people are bound to be using the road.”

Days passed quickly as they continued to trek along the Spine, searching for the mountain pass. Eragon could not complain of boredom. When not learning the elven language, he was either learning how to care for Saphira or practicing magic. Eragon also learned how to kill game with magic, which saved them time hunting. He would hold a small rock on his hand and shoot it at his prey. It was impossible to miss. The results of his efforts roasted over the fire each night. And after dinner, Brom and Eragon would spar with swords and, occasionally, fists.

The long days and strenuous work stripped Eragon’s body of excess fat. His arms became corded, and his tanned skin rippled with lean muscles.Everything about me is turning hard, he thought dryly.

When they finally reached the pass, Eragon saw that a river rushed out of it and cut across the road. “This is the Toark,” explained Brom. “We’ll follow it all the way to the sea.”

“How can we,” laughed Eragon, “if it flows out of the Spine inthis direction? It won’t end up in the ocean unless it doubles back on itself.”

Brom twisted the ring on his finger. “Because in the middle of the mountains rests the Woadark Lake. A river flows from each end of it and both are called the Toark. We see the eastward one now. It runs to the south and winds through the brush until it joins Leona Lake. The other one goes to the sea.”