Section Five

"Wrong," Brom pointed out. "You should have sensed Trev's intentions. Even with my limited abilities, I could do that. If the villagers had been inclined to kill us, I would not have simply stood there doing nothing. Yet I sensed there was a chance to negotiate our way out, and that was exactly what I did."

"How could I know what Trev was thinking?" Eragon asked. "Did you think I ought to be able to see through people's thoughts?"

"Use your mind!" Brom said reproachfully. "You should know the answer. You ought to be able to discern Trev's intentions the same way you communicate with Cadoc and Saphira. A human mind is not all that different from a dragon's or a horse's, so this is easy enough to do, but it is an ability you must use with the utmost caution. A person's mind is their most private place; unless circumstances force it, you must not violate it. On this point, the Dragon Riders had very strict laws. Anyone who broke them without just cause was severely punished."

"You can do that too, even though you're not a Dragon Rider?" Eragon asked.

"As I said before, with proper guidance, anyone can communicate through the mind, though their achievements may differ. It is hard to say whether this ability falls within the realm of magic. Of course, knowing magic can awaken this talent—or allow a person and a dragon to be of one heart and mind—but I know many people who mastered it entirely on their own. Think about it: you can communicate with any living creature, though perhaps not very clearly. You could spend an entire day listening to a bird's thoughts, or learning how an earthworm feels in a thunderstorm. But I have never had much interest in birds. I suggest you start with cats. They have plenty of character."

Eragon held Cadoc's reins and carefully considered the meaning of Brom's words. "But if I can enter someone's mind, does that mean others can do the same to me? If someone is snooping around in my mind, how would I know? Is there a way to stop them? How do I know Brom isn't probing what I'm thinking right now?"

"Oh, there is. Has Saphira ever resisted your entering her mind?"

"Occasionally," Eragon admitted. "When she took me to Spine, I couldn't communicate with her at all. It wasn't that she ignored me. I felt as if she simply could not hear me. Her mind built a high wall that I couldn't cross."

Brom adjusted the bandage on his arm, pulling it a little higher. "Only a small number of people can detect another mind's intrusion, and among them, only a handful can stop it. It depends on training and your control over your thoughts. Because you have a talent for magic, you will always be able to sense whether someone has entered your mind. When that happens, all you need to do to stop them is focus utterly on one thing and think of nothing else. For example, if all you think about is a brick wall, then a foe searching your mind will find nothing but a brick wall. But keeping someone out for a long period requires considerable energy, as well as strict self-control. Even the slightest distraction will shake the high wall you have built, and your opponent will seize the chance to slip in through the weak spot."

"How can I learn that?" Eragon asked.

"There is only one way: practice, practice, and more practice. Think of something, cast aside every thought but that one, and hold that state for as long as you can. This ability will be enormously useful to you, and very few people master it." Brom answered.

"I don't need to master it. I just need to stay safe." If I can enter someone's mind, could I change their thoughts? The more I learned about magic, the more wary of it I became.

They rejoined Saphira. She suddenly thrust her head toward them, startling both of them and making the two horses nervously back away. Saphira fixed Eragon with a hard stare and let out a low growl, cold light flashing in her eyes. Uneasily, Eragon glanced at Brom—he had never seen Saphira this angry before—then asked, What's wrong?

You, she growled. You are what's wrong.

Eragon dismounted from Cadoc, but before he had found his footing, Saphira swept him down with her tail. Then she planted a claw on him, pinning him hard to the ground. "What are you doing?" he shouted, struggling to roll over and rise, but Saphira was simply too strong for him. Brom watched from Snowfire's back.

Saphira lowered her head over Eragon's until they were eye to eye. Her blazing glare made his body writhe. You! Every time you leave my sight, you find trouble. You're like a newborn child, sticking your nose out to sniff every single thing, a complete busybody. What will you do if something bites you back on the nose? If you are too far away, I cannot save you. I have always hidden myself, afraid of being seen. But not anymore! I will not do it at the cost of your life!

I understand why you're upset, Eragon said, but I am much older than you. I can take care of myself. If anything happens, you are the one who needs protecting.

She roared and bared her teeth beside his ear. Do you really think so? she asked. Tomorrow, you will ride me—not those pitiful deerlike creatures you call horses—or I will carry you through the air in my claws. Are you a Dragon Rider or not? Do you not care what I think?

Saphira's questioning shook Eragon. He lowered his eyes, knowing she was right. But he still dreaded riding on her back; their last flight had been the most agonizing torment of his life.

"Hm?" Brom asked from the side.

"She wants me to ride her tomorrow," Eragon explained vaguely.

Brom blinked and thought for a moment. "Well, you have a saddle now. I think there will be no problem if the two of you stay out of people's sight." Saphira glanced at him, then turned back to stare at Eragon.

"But what if you are attacked, or some accident happens? I won't be able to get there in time, and—"

Saphira pressed down a little harder with her claw, choking off the rest of Eragon's words. Do as I say, little one.

Brom looked as though he could barely suppress a laugh. "The risk is worth taking. In any case, you need to learn how to fly a dragon. Think of it this way: with you flying overhead and looking down, you will be able to spot any ambush, trap, or other nasty surprise from the sky."

Meeting Saphira's gaze, Eragon said, All right, I promise. Let me up first.

I want your word.

Must it be like this? he demanded. She blinked. Fine, fine. I give you my word. I will fly with you tomorrow. Are you satisfied now?

Satisfied.

Saphira released him, crouched, and shot into the clouds. Eragon watched her circle in the air and could not help shivering. Grumbling inwardly, he mounted Cadoc and followed Brom.

Near evening, they stopped to make camp. As usual, Eragon and Brom sparred before dinner was ready. In this bout, Eragon delivered a powerful blow. Their wooden swords met and snapped together like thin branches, splinters whistling through the air in every direction. Brom threw down the broken remains of his sword. "We have no more use for these. Throw yours away too. You have learned well, but there is only so far you can go with branches. Wooden swords will no longer benefit you. It is time for you to use a real sword." He took Zar'roc from Eragon's pack and handed it to him.

"We'll split each other open," Eragon objected.

"We won't. You have forgotten magic again," Brom said. He raised his longsword and spun it through several flourishes. Firelight and swordlight intertwined, dazzling the eye. He placed one finger against the blade and focused deeply, the wrinkles on his brow growing more pronounced. For a while, nothing happened. Then he said, "Geulothduknifr!" A tiny red spark sprang from between his fingers, flickering back and forth. He ran his finger down the blade, then turned it over and did the same along the other edge. As his finger left the sword, the spark vanished in an instant.

Brom held out one hand, palm up, and without another word brought his sword down in a savage chop. Eragon gasped and leaped forward to stop him, but he was too late. Brom smiled and showed him his palm. There was not the slightest wound on it, much to Eragon's astonishment. "What spell did you cast?" he asked.

"Touch the edge," Brom said. Eragon did as he was told. He felt that it was wrapped in something invisible, about a quarter of an inch thick and very smooth. "Now cast the same spell on Zar'roc," Brom ordered. "Your protective layer will be slightly different from mine, but it will work the same way."

He taught Eragon the words and the steps of the spell. After several attempts, Eragon soon made Zar'roc temporarily lose its edge as well. He immediately took up a fighting stance with renewed confidence, but before they began, Brom warned him, "These two swords cannot cut people, but they still have enough force to break sinew and shatter bone. I will do my utmost to avoid that, so do not swing your sword in full circles as you often used to. A single blow to the neck would be enough to kill."

Eragon nodded and rushed forward without a word. Brom sidestepped. Their swords collided, throwing off sparks, and the camp rang with the clash of steel. After using wooden swords for so long, Zar'roc felt exceptionally heavy in Eragon's hand. He wielded it slowly, unable to move with agility, and eventually took a savage blow to the knee.

When they stopped, both of them were covered in swollen welts from the swords' strikes, though Eragon had far more than Brom. After such fierce combat and impact, Eragon was amazed to find that Zar'roc had not suffered the slightest damage.