“And the whole of your life has been so short,” said Islanzadí. She put a hand up to Arya’s face. “You have devoted yourself to fighting Galbatorix all these years since your father’s death, but you know little of the joys life can provide. And in those years, we have spent such a small amount of time together: a handful of days scattered throughout a century. It is only since you brought Saphira and Eragon to Ellesméra that we have begun to speak once more, as a mother and daughter ought. I would not lose you again so soon, Arya.”

“It was not I who chose to remain apart,” said Arya.

“No,” said Islanzadí, and she took her hand away. “But it was you who chose to leave Du Weldenvarden.” Her expression softened. “I do not wish to argue, Arya. I understand that you see this as your duty, but please, for my sake, will you not allow another to take your place?”

Arya lowered her gaze and was silent for a time. Then she said, “I cannot allow Eragon and Saphira to go without me any more than you can allow your army to march into battle without you at its head. I cannot.… Would you have it said of me that I am a coward? Those of our family do not turn away from what must be done; do not ask me to shame myself.”

The shine in Islanzadí’s eyes looked suspiciously like tears to Eragon. “Yes,” said the queen, “but to fight Galbatorix …”

“If you are so afraid,” said Arya, but not unkindly, “then come with me.”

“I cannot. I must stay to command my troops.”

“And I must go with Eragon and Saphira. But I promise you, I shall not die.” Arya placed her hand on Islanzadí’s face even as her mother had done to her. “I shall not die.” Once more Arya repeated the phrase, but this time in the ancient language.

Arya’s determination impressed Eragon; to say what she had in the ancient language meant that she believed it without qualification. Islanzadí also appeared impressed, and proud too. She smiled and kissed Arya once on each cheek. “Then go, and go with my blessings. And take no more risks than you must.”

“Nor you.” And the two of them embraced.

As they separated, Islanzadí looked at Eragon and Saphira and said, “Watch over her, I implore you, for she has not a dragon or the Eldunarí to protect her.”

We will, both Eragon and Saphira replied, in the ancient language.

Once they had settled what needed to be settled, the war council broke and its various members began to disperse. From where he sat by Saphira, Eragon watched the others mill about. Neither he nor she made an effort to move. Saphira was going to remain hidden behind the hill until the attack, while he intended to wait for dark before he ventured into the camp.

Orik was the second to depart, after Roran. Before he did, the dwarf king came over to Eragon and gave him a rough hug. “Ah, I wish I were going with the two of you,” he said, his eyes solemn above his beard.

“And I wish you were coming,” said Eragon.

“Well, we’ll see each other afterward and toast our victory with barrels of mead, eh?”

“I look forward to it.”

As do I, said Saphira.

“Good,” said Orik, and he nodded firmly. “That’s settled, then. You’d better not let Galbatorix get the better of you, or I’ll be honor-bound to march in after you.”

“We’ll be careful,” Eragon said with a smile.

“I should hope so, because I doubt I could do much more than tweak Galbatorix on the nose.”

That I would like to see, said Saphira.

Orik grunted. “May the gods watch over you, Eragon, and you as well, Saphira.”

“And you, Orik, Thrifk’s son.” Then Orik slapped Eragon on the shoulder and stomped off to where he had tied his pony to a bush.

When Islanzadí and Blödhgarm left, Arya stayed. She was deep in conversation with Jörmundur, and so Eragon thought little of it. When Jörmundur rode off, however, and Arya still lingered nearby, he realized that she wanted to talk to them alone.

Sure enough, once everyone else had gone, she looked at him and Saphira and said, “Did something else happen to you while you were gone, something that you didn’t want to speak of in front of Orrin or Jörmundur … or my mother?”

“Why do you ask?”

She hesitated. “Because … you both seem to have changed. Is it the Eldunarí, or does it have to do with your experience in the storm?”

Eragon smiled at her perception. He consulted with Saphira, and when she approved, he said, “We learned our true names.”

Arya’s eyes widened. “You did? And … were you pleased with them?”

In part, said Saphira.

“We learned our true names,” Eragon repeated. “We saw that the earth is round. And during the flight here, Umaroth and the other Eldunarí shared many of their memories with us.” He allowed himself a wry smile. “I can’t say we understand all of them, but they make things seem … different.”

“I see,” murmured Arya. “Do you think the change is for the better?”

“I do. Change itself is neither good nor bad, but knowledge is always useful.”

“Was it difficult to find your true names?”

So he told her how they had accomplished it, and he also told her about the strange creatures they had encountered on Vroengard Island, which interested her greatly.