Eldest
Page 108

Nasuada gaped at the girl, stunned. Like a key matched to a lock, Elva’s words perfectly addressed Nasuada’s primal fears, the doubts that kept her awake at night, sweating in the darkness. An involuntary surge of emotion rushed through her, bolstering her with a sense of confidence and peace that she had not possessed since before Ajihad’s death. Tears of relief burst from her eyes and rolled down her face. It was as if Elva had known exactly what to say in order to comfort her.
Nasuada loathed her for it.
Her euphoria warred against her distaste for how this moment of weakness had been induced and by whom. Nor did she trust the girl’s motivation.
“Whatare you?” she demanded.
“I am what Eragon made me.”
“He blessed you.”
The dreadful, ancient eyes were obscured for a moment as Elva blinked. “He did not understand his actions. Since Eragon ensorcelled me, whenever I see a person, I sense all the hurts that beset him and are about to beset him. When I was smaller, I could do nothing about it. So I grew bigger.”
“Why would—”
“The magic in my blood drives me to protect people from pain . . . no matter the injury to myself or whether I want to help or not.” Her smile acquired a bitter twist. “It costs me dearly if I resist the urge.”
As Nasuada digested the implications, she realized that Elva’s unsettling aspect was a by-product of the suffering that she had been exposed to. Nasuada shivered at the thought of what the girl had endured.It must have torn her apart to have this compulsion and yet be unable to act on it. Against her better judgment, she began to feel a measure of sympathy for Elva.
“Why have you told me this?”
“I thought that you should know who and what I am.” Elva paused, and the fire in her gaze strengthened. “And that I will fight for you however I can. Use me as you would an assassin—in hiding, in the dark, and without mercy.” She laughed with a high, chilling voice. “You wonder why; I see you do. Because unless this war ends, and sooner rather than later, it will drive me insane. I find it hard enough to deal with the agonies of everyday life without also having to confront the atrocities of battle. Use me to end it and I’ll ensure that your life is as happy as any human has had the privilege to experience.”
At that moment, the crone scurried back into the room, bowed to Elva, and handed her a new platter of food. It was a physical relief to Nasuada as Elva looked down and attacked a leg of mutton, cramming the meat into her mouth with both hands. She ate with the ravenous intensity of a gorging wolf, displaying a complete lack of decorum. With her violet eyes hidden and her dragon mark covered by black bangs, she once again appeared to be nothing more than an innocent child.
Nasuada waited until it became apparent that Elva had said all she was going to. Then—at a gesture from Angela—she accompanied the herbalist through a side door, leaving the pale girl sitting alone in the center of the dark, cloth-bound room, like a dire fetus nestled in its womb, waiting for the right moment to emerge.
Angela made sure that the door was closed and whispered, “All she does is eat and eat. We can’t sate her appetite with the current rations. Can you—”
“She’ll be fed. You needn’t worry about it.” Nasuada rubbed her arms, trying to eradicate the memory of those awful, horrible eyes. . . .
“Thank you.”
“Has this ever happened to anyone else?”
Angela shook her head until her curly hair bounced on her shoulders. “Not in the entire history of magic. I tried to cast her future, but it’s a hopeless quagmire—lovely word,quagmire —because her life interacts with so many others.”
“Is she dangerous?”
“We’re all dangerous.”
“You know what I mean.”
Angela shrugged. “She’s more dangerous than some and less than others. The one she’s most likely to kill, though, is herself. If she meets someone who’s about to be hurt and Eragon’s spell catches her unawares, then she’ll take the doomed person’s place. That’s why she stays inside most of the time.”
“How far in advance can she foretell events?”
“Two or three hours at the most.”
Leaning against the wall, Nasuada considered the newest complication in her life. Elva could be a potent weapon if she were applied correctly.Through her, I can discern my opponents’ troubles and weaknesses, as well as what will please them and make them amenable to my wishes. In an emergency, the girl could also act as an infallible guard if one of the Varden, like Eragon or Saphira, had to be protected.
She can’t be left unsupervised. I need someone to watch her. Someone who understands magic and is comfortable enough with their own identity to resist Elva’s influence . . . and who I can trust to be reliable and honest.She immediately discounted Trianna.
Nasuada looked at Angela. Though she was wary of the herbalist, she knew that Angela had helped the Varden with matters of the utmost delicacy and importance—like healing Eragon—and had asked for nothing in return. Nasuada could think of no one else who had the time, inclination, and expertise to look after Elva.
“I realize,” said Nasuada, “that this is presumptuous of me, as you aren’t under my command and I know little of your life or duties, but I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Proceed.” Angela waved a hand.
Nasuada faltered, disconcerted, then forged ahead. “Would you be willing to keep an eye on Elva for me? I need—”