Inheritance Cycle Omnibus

by Christopher Paolini

  All happiness vanished from Roran’s face. He began to speak in a low monotone, and Eragon listened with growing amazement as he wove an epic of attacks, sieges, and betrayal, of leaving Carvahall, crossing the Spine, and razing the docks of Teirm, of sailing through a monstrous whirlpool.

  When at last he finished, Eragon said, “You are a greater man than I. I couldn’t have done half those things. Fight, yes, but not convince everyone to follow me.”

  “I had no choice. When they took Katrina—” Roran’s voice broke. “I could either give up and die, or I could try to escape Galbatorix’s trap, no matter the cost.” He fixed his burning eyes on Eragon. “I have lied and burned and slaughtered to get here. I no longer have to worry about protecting everyone from Carvahall; the Varden will see to that. Now I have only one goal in life, to find and rescue Katrina, if she’s not already dead. Will you help me, Eragon?”

  Reaching over, Eragon grabbed his saddlebags from the corner of the tent—where the Varden had deposited them—and removed a wooden bowl and the silver flask of enchanted faelnirv Oromis had given him. He took a small sip of the liqueur to revitalize himself and gasped as it raced down his throat, making his nerves tingle with cold fire. Then he poured faelnirv into the bowl until it formed a shallow pool the width of his hand.

  “Watch.” Gathering up his burst of new energy, Eragon said, “Draumr kópa.”

  The liqueur shimmered and turned black. After a few seconds, a thin key of light appeared in the center of the bowl, revealing Katrina. She lay slumped against an invisible wall, her hands suspended above her with invisible manacles and her copper hair splayed like a fan across her back.

  “She’s alive!” Roran hunched over the bowl, grasping at it as if he thought he could dive through the faelnirv and join Katrina. His hope and determination melded with a look of such tender affection, Eragon knew that only death could stop Roran from trying to free her.

  Unable to sustain the spell any longer, Eragon let the image fade away. He leaned against the wall of the tent for support. “Aye,” he said wearily, “she’s alive. And chances are, she’s imprisoned in Helgrind, in the Ra’zac’s lair.” Eragon grasped Roran by the shoulders. “The answer to your question, brother, is yes. I will travel to Dras-Leona with you. I will help you rescue Katrina. And then, together, you and I shall kill the Ra’zac and avenge our father.”

  END OF BOOK TWO

  THE STORY WILL CONTINUE IN

  BOOK THREE OF INHERITANCE

  PRONUNCIATION GUIDE

  AND

  GLOSSARY

  ON THE ORIGIN OF NAMES:

  To the casual observer, the various names an intrepid traveler will encounter throughout Alagaësia might seem but a random collection of labels with no inherent integrity, culture, or history. However, as with any land that different cultures—and in this case, different species—have repeatedly colonized, Alagaësia acquired names from a wide array of unique sources, among them the languages of the dwarves, elves, humans, and even Urgals. Thus, we can have Palancar Valley (a human name), the Anora River and Ristvak’baen (elven names), and Utgard Mountain (a dwarf name) all within a few square miles of each other.

  While this is of great historical interest, practically it often leads to confusion as to the correct pronunciation. Unfortunately, there are no set rules for the neophyte. Each name must be learned upon its own terms, unless you can immediately place its language of origin. The matter grows even more confusing when you realize that in many places the spelling and pronunciation of foreign words were altered by the resident population to conform to their own language. The Anora River is a prime example. Originally anora was spelled äenora, which means broad in the ancient language. In their writings, the humans simplified the word to anora, and this, combined with a vowel shift wherein äe (ay-eh) was said as the easier a (uh), created the name as it appears in Eragon’s time.

  To spare readers as much difficulty as possible, the following list is provided, with the understanding that these are only rough guidelines to the actual pronunciation. The enthusiast is encouraged to study the source languages in order to master their true intricacies.

  PRONUNCIATION:

  Aiedail—AY-uh-dale

  Ajihad—AH-zhi-hod

  Alagaësia—al-uh-GAY-zee-uh

  Arya—AR-ee-uh

  Carvahall—CAR-vuh-hall

  Dras-Leona—DRAHS lee-OH-nuh

  Du Weldenvarden—doo WELL-den-VAR-den

  Ellesméra—el-uhs-MEER-uh

  Eragon—EHR-uh-gahn

  Farthen Dûr—FAR-then DURE (dure rhymes with lure)

  Galbatorix—gal-buh-TOR-icks

  Gil’ead—GILL-ee-id

  Glaedr—GLAY-dur

  Hrothgar—HROTH-gar

  Islanzadí—iss-lan-ZAH-dee

  Jeod—JODE (rhymes with code)

  Murtagh—MUR-tag (mur rhymes with purr)

  Nasuada—nah-soo-AH-duh

  Nolfavrell—NOLL-fah-vrel (noll rhymes with toll)

  Oromis—OR-uh-miss

  Ra’zac—RAA-zack

  Saphira—suh-FEAR-uh

  Shruikan—SHREW-kin

  Sílthrim—SEAL-thrim (síl is a hard sound to transcribe; it’s made by flicking the tip of the tongue off the roof of the mouth.)

  Teirm—TEERM

  Trianna—TREE-ah-nuh

  Tronjheim—TRONJ-heem

  Urû’baen—OO-roo-bane

  Vrael—VRAIL

  Yazuac—YAA-zoo-ack

  Zar’roc—ZAR-rock

  THE ANCIENT LANGUAGE:

  adurna—water

  Agaetí Blödhren—Blood-oath Celebration

  Aiedail—The Morning Star

  Argetlam—Silver Hand

  Atra esterní ono thelduin/Mor’ranr lífa unin hjarta onr/Un du evarínya ono varda.—May good fortune rule over you/Peace live in your heart/And the stars watch over you.

  Atra guliä un ilian tauthr ono un atra ono waíse skölir fra rauthr.—May luck and happiness follow you and may you be a shield from misfortune.

  Atra nosu waíse vardo fra eld hórnya.—Let us be warded from listeners.

  Bjartskular—Brightscales

  blöthr—halt; stop

  Brakka du vanyalí sem huildar Saphira un eka!—Reduce the magic that holds Saphira and me!

  brisingr—fire

  Dagshelgr—Hallowed Day

  draumr kópa—dream stare

  Du Fells Nángoröth—The Blasted Mountains

  Du Fyrn Skulblaka—The Dragon War

  Du Völlar Eldrvarya—The Burning Plains

  Du Vrangr Gata—The Wandering Path

  Du Weldenvarden—The Guarding Forest

  dvergar—dwarves

  ebrithil—master

  edur—a tor or prominence

  Eka fricai un Shur’tugal.—I am a Rider and friend.

  elda—a gender-neutral honorific of great praise

  Eyddr eyreya onr!—Empty your ears!

  fairth—a picture taken by magical means

  finiarel—an honorific for a young man of great promise

  Fricai Andlát—death friend (a poisonous mushroom)

  Gala O Wyrda brunhvitr/Abr Berundal vandr-fódhr/Burthro laufsblädar ekar undir/Eom kona dauthleikr …—Sing O white-browed Fate/Of ill-marked Berundal/Born under oaken leaves/To mortal woman …

  gánga aptr—to go backward

  gánga fram—to go forward

  Gath sem oro un lam iet.—Unite that arrow with my hand.

  gedwëy ignasia—shining palm

  Gëuloth du knífr.—Dull the knife.

  haldthin—thornapple

  Helgrind—The Gates of Death

  hlaupa—run

  hljödhr—silent

  jierda—break; hit

  kodthr—catch

  Kvetha Fricai.—Greetings, Friend.

  lethrblaka—a bat; the Ra’zac’s mounts (literally, leather-flapper)

  letta—stop

  Letta orya thorna!—Stop those arrows!


  Liduen Kvaedhí—Poetic Script

  Losna kalfya iet.—Release my calves.

  malthinae—to bind or hold in place; confine

  nalgask—a mixture of beeswax and hazelnut oil used to moisten the skin

  Osthato Chetowä—the Mourning Sage

  Reisa du adurna.—Raise/Lift the water.

  rïsa—rise

  Sé mor’ranr ono finna.—May you find peace.

  Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass!—May your swords stay sharp!

  Sé orúm thornessa hávr sharjalví lífs.—May this serpent have life’s movement.

  skölir—shield

  Skölir nosu fra brisingr!—Shield us from fire!

  sköliro—shielded

  skulblaka—dragon (literally, scale-flapper)

  Stydja unin mor’ranr, Hrothgar Könungr.—Rest in peace, King Hrothgar.

  svit-kona—a formal honorific for an elf woman of great wisdom

  thrysta—thrust; compress

  Thrysta vindr.—Compress the air.

  Togira Ikonoka—the Cripple Who Is Whole

  the Varden—the Warders

  Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur’tugal.—Upon my word as a Rider.

  Vinr Älfakyn—Elf Friend

  vodhr—a male honorific of middling praise

  vor—a male honorific for a close friend

  Waíse heill.—Be healed.

  Wiol ono.—For you.

  wyrda—fate

  Wyrdfell—elven name for the Forsworn

  yawë—a bond of trust

  zar’roc—misery

  THE DWARF LANGUAGE:

  Akh sartos oen dûrgrimst!—For family and clan!

  Ascûdgamln—fists of steel

  Astim Hefthyn—Sight Guard (inscription on a necklace given to Eragon)

  Az Ragni—The River

  Az Sweldn rak Anhûin—The Tears of Anhûin

  Azt jok jordn rast.—Then you may pass.

  barzûl—to curse someone with ill fate

  Barzûl knurlar!—Curse them!

  barzûln—to curse someone with multiple misfortunes

  Beor—cave bear (elf word)

  dûrgrimst—clan (literally, our hall/home)

  eta—no

  Etzil nithgech!—Stop there!

  Farthen Dûr—Our Father

  Feldûnost—frostbeard (a species of goat native to the Beor Mountains)

  Formv Hrethcarach … formv Jurgencarmeitder nos eta goroth bahst Tarnag, dûr ensesti rak kythn! Jok is warrev az barzûlegûr dûr dûrgrimst, Az Sweldn rak Anhûin, môgh tor rak Jurgenvren? Né ûdim etal os rast knurlag. Knurlag ana …—This Shadeslayer … this Dragon Rider has no place in Tarnag, our holiest of cities! Do you forget the curse our clan, The Tears of Anhûin, bears from the Dragon War? We will not let him pass. He is …

  grimstborith—clan chief

  grimstcarvlorss—arranger of the house

  Gûntera Arûna—Gûntera Bless

  Hert dûrgrimst? Fild rastn?—What clan? Who passes?

  hírna—likeness; statue

  hûthvír—double-bladed staff weapon used by Dûrgrimst Quan

  Ignh az voth!—Bring the food!

  Ilf gauhnith.—A peculiar dwarf expression that means “It is safe and good.” Commonly uttered by the host of a meal, it is a holdover from days when poisoning of guests was prevalent among the clans.

  Ingeitum—fire workers; smiths

  Isidar Mithrim—Star Rose

  Jok is frekk dûrgrimstvren?—Do you want a clan war?

  knurl—stone; rock

  knurla—dwarf (literally, one of stone)

  Knurlag qana qirânû Dûrgrimst Ingeitum! Qarzûl ana Hrothgar oen volfild—He was made a member of Clan Ingeitum! Cursed is Hrothgar and all who—

  knurlagn—men

  Knurlhiem—Stonehead

  Knurlnien—Heart of Stone

  Nagra—giant boar, native to the Beor Mountains

  oeí—yes; affirmative

  Orik Thrifkz menthiv oen Hrethcarach Eragon rak Dûrgrimst Ingeitum. Wharn, az vanyali-carharûg Arya. Né oc Ûndinz grimstbelardn.—Orik, Thrifk’s son, and Shadeslayer Eragon of Clan Ingeitum. Also, the elf-courier Arya. We are Ûndin’s hall-guests.

  Os il dom qirânû carn dûr thargen, zeitmen, oen grimst vor formv edaris rak skilfz. Narho is belgond …—Let our flesh, honor, and hall be made as one by this blood of mine. I do pledge …

  otho—faith

  Ragni Hefthyn—River Guard

  Shrrg—giant wolf, native to the Beor Mountains

  Smer voth.—Serve the food.

  Tronjheim—Helm of Giants

  Urzhad—cave bear

  vanyali—elf (The dwarves borrowed this word from the ancient language, wherein it means magic.)

  Vor Hrothgarz korda!—By Hrothgar’s hammer!

  vrron—enough

  werg—an exclamation of disgust (the dwarves’ equivalent of ugh)

  THE URGAL LANGUAGE:

  Ahgrat ukmar.—It is done.

  drajl—spawn of maggots

  nar—a gender-neutral title of great respect

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  vetha Fricaya.

  As with many authors who undertake an epic the length of the Inheritance cycle, I have found that the creation of Eragon, and now Eldest, has become my own personal quest, one that has proven every bit as transforming as Eragon’s.

  When first I conceived Eragon, I was fifteen—not quite a boy and not yet a man—just out of high school, unsure of what path to take in life, and addicted to the potent magic of the fantasy literature that adorned my shelves. The process of writing Eragon, marketing it across the world, and now finally completing Eldest has swept me into adulthood. I am twenty-one now and, to my continual astonishment, have already published two novels. Stranger things have occurred, I’m sure, but never to me.

  Eragon’s journey has been my own: plucked from a sheltered rural upbringing and forced to rove the land in a desperate race against time; enduring intense and arduous training; achieving success against all expectations; dealing with the consequences of fame; and eventually finding a measure of peace.

  Just as in fiction when the determined and well-meaning protagonist—who really isn’t all that bright, now is he?—is helped along his way by a host of wiser characters, so too have I been guided by a number of stupendously talented people. They are:

  At home: Mom, for listening whenever I need to talk about a problem with the story or characters and for giving me the courage to throw out twelve pages and rewrite Eragon’s entrance into Ellesméra (painful); Dad, as always, for his incisive editing; and my dear sister, Angela, for deigning to reprise her role as a witch and for her contributions to her doppelgänger’s dialogue.

  At Writers House: my agent, the great and mighty Comma Master, Simon Lipskar, who makes all things possible (Mervyn Peake!); and his brave assistant Daniel Lazar, who keeps the Comma Master from being buried alive underneath a pile of unsolicited manuscripts, many of which I fear are the result of Eragon.

  At Knopf: my editor, Michelle Frey, who has gone above and beyond the call of duty in performing her job and has made Eldest so much better than it would have been otherwise; publicity director Judith Haut, for once again proving that no feat of promotion is beyond her reach (hear her roar!); Isabel Warren-Lynch, art director nonpareil who, with Eldest, has exceeded her previous accomplishments; John Jude Palencar, for a cover painting that I like even better than the one for Eragon; copy chief Artie Bennett, who has done a splendiferous job of checking all the obscure words in this trilogy and probably knows more than I do about the ancient language, although his Urgal is a mite weak; Chip Gibson, grand master of the children’s division at Random House; Nancy Hinkel, publishing director extraordinaire; Joan DeMayo, director of sales (much applause, cheers, and bowing!) and her team; Daisy Kline, who with her team designed the wonderful and eye-catching marketing materials; Linda Palladino, Rebecca Price, and Timothy Terhune, production; a bow of thanks to Pam White and
her team, who have helped to spread Eragon to the four corners of the world; Melissa Nelson, design; Alison Kolani, copy editing; Michele Burke, Michelle Frey’s dedicated, hardworking assistant; and everyone else at Knopf who has supported me.

  At Listening Library: Gerard Doyle, who brings the world of Alagaësia to life; Taro Meyer for getting the pronunciation of my languages just right; Jacob Bronstein for pulling all the threads together; and Tim Ditlow, publisher of Listening Library.

  Thank you all.

  One more volume to go and we shall reach the end of this tale. One more manuscript of heartache, ecstasy, and perseverance.… One more codex of dreams.

  Stay with me, if it please you, and let us see where this winding path will carry us, both in this world and in Alagaësia.

  Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass!

  Christopher Paolini

  August 23, 2005

  EXCERPT COPYRIGHT © 2005 BY CHRISTOPHER PAOLINI

  ENJOY AN EXCLUSIVE LOOK

  AT A DELETED SCENE FROM

  THIS EPISODE FROM ERAGON AND SAPHIRA’S VISIT TO THE DWARF CITY OF TARNAG OFFERS A UNIQUE GLIMPSE AT DWARF THEATER.

  aphira looked at him with solemn eyes and said, They are afraid, Eragon. Afraid and resentful because once more they have been forced to accept a Rider’s assistance.

  Aye. They may fight with us, but they don’t fight for us.

  “Good.” Ûndin wiped his hands, stood, and clapped loudly. “Estver az grimstcardweirvn!” As he reseated himself, twenty-six costumed dwarves marched out of the hall into the courtyard and positioned themselves before the tables, where all could see. “Explain,” grunted Ûndin, waving his hand at Orik.

  Eragon looked down at Orik, who said, “These are the clan bards. It is their job to remember all songs, sagas, poems, and other lore that describe the clan’s history.”

  “They also,” added Arya, “perform plays.”

  At Ûndin’s word, a roll of drums echoed from the side and a dwarf announced, “Az Sartosvrenht rak Balmung, Grimstnzborith rak Kvisagûr.”

  Orik translated: “The Saga of King Balmung of Kvisagûr—Kvisagûr being a mountain south of Dalgon.”

  Then a wizened bard stepped forward, clutching a staff. He cried:

  Né dom alfrell wharn hert? Né rak az knurl menwanû, fild ganaht vrem oen nzdorrim volhort. Né oc strâddsigt hûttn rak garz menwarrev isû warrevn ienmîf dar fûthmérn.