He nodded to the guards outside the study, then let himself into the room.

Inside, he saw Nasuada reclined on a padded seat, listening to a musician strumming on a lute and singing a beautiful, if mournful, love song. On the end of the seat sat the witch-child, Elva, engrossed with a piece of embroidery, and in a nearby chair, Nasuada’s handmaid, Farica. And curled up on Farica’s lap lay the werecat Yelloweyes in his animal form. He looked sound asleep, but Eragon knew from experience that he was probably awake.

Eragon waited by the door until the musician finished.

“Thank you. You may go,” said Nasuada to the player. “Ah, Eragon. Welcome.”

He bowed slightly to her. Then, to the girl, he said, “Elva.”

She eyed him from under her brow. “Eragon.” The werecat’s tail twitched.

“What is it you wish to discuss?” asked Nasuada. She took a sip from a chalice resting on a side table.

“Perhaps we could speak in private,” said Eragon, and motioned with his head toward the glass-paneled doors behind her, which opened onto a balcony overlooking a quadrangle with a garden and fountain.

Nasuada considered for a moment, then rose from her seat and swept toward the balcony, the train of her purple dress trailing behind her.

Eragon followed, and they stood side by side, gazing at the spouting water of the fountain, cool and gray within the shadow cast by the side of the building.

“What a beautiful afternoon,” said Nasuada as she took a deep breath. She looked more at peace than when he had last seen her, only a few hours before.

“The music seems to have put you in a good mood,” he observed.

“No, not the music: Elva.”

He cocked his head. “How so?”

A strange half smile graced Nasuada’s face. “After my imprisonment in Urû’baen—after what I endured … and lost—and after the attempts on my life, the world seemed to lose all color for me. I did not feel myself, and nothing I did could stir me from my sadness.”

“I thought as much,” he said, “but I did not know what to do or say that might help.”

“Nothing. Nothing you could have said or done would have helped. I might have gone on like that for years, if not for Elva. She told me … she told me what I needed to hear, I suppose. It was the fulfillment of a promise she made me, long ago, in the castle at Aberon.” Eragon frowned and glanced back into the room, where Elva sat poking at her embroidery. For all they had gone through together, he still did not feel as if he could trust the girl, and he feared that she was manipulating Nasuada for her own selfish ends.

Nasuada’s hand touched his arm. “You don’t need to worry about me, Eragon. I know myself too well for her to unbalance me even if she tried. Galbatorix couldn’t break me; do you think she could?”

He looked back at her, his expression grim. “Yes.”

She smiled again. “I appreciate your concern, but in this, it’s unfounded. Let me enjoy my good mood; you can put your suspicions to me at a later time.”

“All right.” Then he relented a bit and said, “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Thank you. As am I.… Are Saphira and Fírnen still cavorting about as they were earlier? I don’t hear them anymore.”

“They are, but they’re above the overhang now.” His cheeks warmed somewhat as he touched Saphira’s mind.

“Ah.” Nasuada placed her hands—one atop the other—upon the stone balustrade, the uprights of which were carved into the shape of flowering irises. “Now, why did you wish to meet? Have you arrived at a decision with regard to my offer?”

“I have.”

“Excellent. Then we may proceed apace with our plans. I have already—”

“I’ve decided not to accept.”

“What?” Nasuada looked at him with incredulity. “Why? To whom else would you entrust the position?”

“I don’t know,” he said gently. “That’s something you and Orrin will have to figure out on your own.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You won’t even help us choose the right person? And you expect me to believe that you would follow orders from anyone but me?”

“You misunderstand,” he said. “I don’t want to lead the magicians, and I won’t be joining them either.”

Nasuada stared at him for a moment; then she walked over and closed the glass-paneled doors to the balcony so that Elva, Farica, and the werecat could not overhear their conversation. Turning back to him, she said, “Eragon! What are you thinking! You know you have to join. All of the magicians who serve me have to. There can’t be any exceptions. Not one! I can’t have people think that I’m playing favorites. It would sow dissent among the ranks of the magicians, and that is exactly what I don’t want. As long as you are a subject of my realm, you have to abide by its laws, or my authority means nothing. I shouldn’t have to tell you that, Eragon.”

“You don’t. I’m well aware of it, which is why Saphira and I have decided to leave Alagaësia.”

Nasuada put a hand on the railing, as if to steady herself. For a time, the splashing of the water below was the only sound.

“I don’t understand.”

So, once more, as he had with Arya, he set forth the reasons why the dragons, and therefore he and Saphira, could not stay in Alagaësia. And when he finished, he said, “It never would have worked for me to take charge of the magicians. Saphira and I have to raise the dragons and train the Riders, and that must take precedence before all else. Even if I had the time, I couldn’t lead the Riders and still answer to you—the other races would never stand for it. Despite Arya’s choice to become queen, the Riders have to remain as impartial as possible. If we start to play favorites, it will destroy Alagaësia. The only way I would consider accepting the position would be if the magicians were to include those of every race—even the Urgals—but that’s not likely to happen. Besides, it would still leave the question of what to do about the eggs and the Eldunarí.”