Eragon
Page 51

 Christopher Paolini

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
Brom pulled at his beard. “The Empire is in worse condition than I had imagined. When the traders visited Carvahall, they brought reports of unrest, but I never believed that it was this widespread. With all these Urgals around, it seems that the Empire itself is under attack, yet no troops or soldiers have been sent out. It’s as if the king doesn’t care to defend his domain.”
“It is strange,” agreed Eragon.
Brom ducked under a low-hanging branch. “Did you use any of your powers while we were in Daret?”
“There was no reason to.”
“Wrong,” corrected Brom. “You could have sensed Trevor’s intentions. Even with my limited abilities, I was able to do that. If the villagers had been bent on killing us, I wouldn’t have just sat there. However, I felt there was a reasonable chance of talking our way out of there, which is what I did.”
“How could I know what Trevor was thinking?” asked Eragon. “Am I supposed to be able to see into people’s minds?”
“Come now,” chided Brom, “you should know the answer to that. You could have discovered Trevor’s purpose in the same way that you communicate with Cadoc or Saphira. The minds of men are not so different from a dragon’s or horse’s. It’s a simple thing to do, but it’s a power you must use sparingly and with great caution. A person’s mind is his last sanctuary. You must never violate it unless circumstances force you to. The Riders had very strict rules regarding this. If they were broken without due cause, the punishment was severe.”
“And you can do this even though you aren’t a Rider?” asked Eragon.
“As I said before, with the right instruction anyone can talk with their minds, but with differing amounts of success. Whether it’s magic, though, is hard to tell. Magical abilities will certainly trigger the talent—or becoming linked with a dragon—but I’ve known plenty who learned it on their own. Think about it: you can communicate with any sentient being, though the contact may not be very clear. You could spend the entire day listening to a bird’s thoughts or understanding how an earthworm feels during a rainstorm. But I’ve never found birds very interesting. I suggest starting with a cat; they have unusual personalities.”
Eragon twisted Cadoc’s reins in his hands, considering the implications of what Brom had said. “But if I can get into someone’s head, doesn’t that mean that others can do the same to me? How do I know if someone’s prying in my mind? Is there a way to stop that?”How do I know if Brom can tell what I’m thinking right now?
“Why, yes. Hasn’t Saphira ever blocked you from her mind?”
“Occasionally,” admitted Eragon. “When she took me into the Spine, I couldn’t talk to her at all. It wasn’t that she was ignoring me; I don’t think she could even hear me. There were walls around her mind that I couldn’t get through.”
Brom worked on his bandage for a moment, shifting it higher on his arm. “Only a few people can tell if someone is in their mind, and of those, only a handful could stop you from entering. It’s a matter of training and of how you think. Because of your magical power, you’ll always know if someone is in your mind. Once you do, blocking them is a simple matter of concentrating on one thing to the exclusion of all else. For instance, if you only think about a brick wall, that’s all the enemy will find in your mind. However, it takes a huge amount of energy and discipline to block someone for any length of time. If you’re distracted by even the slightest thing, your wall will waver and your opponent will slip in through the weakness.”
“How can I learn to do this?” asked Eragon.
“There is only one thing for it: practice, practice, and yet more practice. Picture something in your mind and hold it there to the exclusion of all else for as long as you can. It is a very advanced ability; only a handful ever master it,” said Brom.
“I don’t need perfection, just safety.”If I can get into someone’s mind, can I change how he thinks? Every time I learn something new about magic, I grow more wary of it.
When they reached Saphira, she startled them by thrusting her head at them. The horses backstepped nervously. Saphira looked Eragon over carefully and gave a low hiss. Her eyes were flinty. Eragon threw a concerned look at Brom—he had never seen Saphira this angry—then asked,What’s wrong?
You,she growled.You are the problem.
Eragon frowned and got off Cadoc. As soon as his feet touched the ground, Saphira swept his legs out from under him with her tail and pinned him with her talons. “What are you doing?” he yelled, struggling to get up, but she was too strong for him. Brom watched attentively from Snowfire.
Saphira swung her head over Eragon until they were eye to eye. He squirmed under her unwavering glare.You! Every time you leave my sight you get into trouble. You’re like a new hatchling, sticking your nose into everything. And what happens when you stick it into something that bites back? How will you survive then? I cannot help you when I’m miles away. I’ve stayed hidden so that no one would see me, but no longer! Not when it may cost you your life.
I can understand why you’re upset,said Eragon,but I’m much older than you and can take care of myself. If anything, you’re the one who needs to be protected.
She snarled and snapped her teeth by his ear.Do you really believe that? she asked.Tomorrow you will ride me—not that pitiful deer-animal you call a horse—or else I will carry you in my claws. Are you a Dragon Rider or not? Don’t you care for me?