INSTANT #1 “Christopher Paolini is a true rarity.” -- The world is no longer safe for the Dragon Rider Murtagh and his dragon, Thorn. An evil king has been toppled, and they are left to face the consequences of the reluctant role they played in his reign of terror . Now they are hated and alone, exiled to the outskirts of society. Throughout the land, hushed voices whisper of brittle ground and a faint scent of brimstone in the air--and Murtagh senses that something wicked lurks in the shadows of Alagaësia. So begins an epic journey into lands both familiar and untraveled, where Murtagh and Thorn must use every weapon in their arsenal, from brains to brawn, to find and outwit a mysterious witch. A witch who is much more than she seems. In this gripping novel starring one of the most popular characters from Christopher Paolini’s blockbuster Inheritance Cycle, a Dragon Rider must discover what he stands for in a world that has abandoned him. Praise for Christopher Paolini: “[A] spellbinding fantasy writer.” “A breathtaking and unheard-of success.” “Make[s] literary magic.” <--People<

Autorentext

Christopher Paolini

Klappentext

INSTANT #1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • Master storyteller and internationally bestselling author Christopher Paolini returns to the World of Eragon in this stunning epic fantasy set a year after the events of the Inheritance Cycle. Join Dragon Rider—and fan favorite—Murtagh and his dragon as they confront a perilous new enemy!

“Christopher Paolini is a true rarity.” —The Washington Post

The world is no longer safe for the Dragon Rider Murtagh and his dragon, Thorn. An evil king has been toppled, and they are left to face the consequences of the reluctant role they played in his reign of terror**.** Now they are hated and alone, exiled to the outskirts of society.

Throughout the land, hushed voices whisper of brittle ground and a faint scent of brimstone in the air—and Murtagh senses that something wicked lurks in the shadows of Alagaësia. So begins an epic journey into lands both familiar and untraveled, where Murtagh and Thorn must use every weapon in their arsenal, from brains to brawn, to find and outwit a mysterious witch. A witch who is much more than she seems.

In this gripping novel starring one of the most popular characters from Christopher Paolini’s blockbuster Inheritance Cycle, a Dragon Rider must discover what he stands for in a world that has abandoned him. Murtagh is the perfect book to enter the World of Eragon for the first time . . . or to joyfully return.

Praise for Christopher Paolini:
“[A] spellbinding fantasy writer.” —The Boston Globe
“A breathtaking and unheard-of success.” —USA Today
“Make[s] literary magic.” —People

Leseprobe
Chapter I

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Maddentide

W*ill you go alone?
*
Murtagh gave Thorn a quizzical look. The red dragon sat crouched next to him atop the rocky hill where they had landed. In the fading dusk, the sparkle of the ­dragon’s scales was subdued, tamped down like coals in a banked fire, waiting for a breath of wind to flare back to brilliance.

“What? You’d go with me?”

A wolfish grin split Thorn’s jaws, showing rows of sharp white teeth, each as long as a dagger. Why not? They already fear us. Let them scream and scurry at our arrival.

The dragon’s thoughts resonated like a bell in Murtagh’s mind. He shook his head as he unbuckled his sword, Zar’roc, from his waist. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Thorn’s jaws hung open wider, and his burred tongue ran across his chops. *Maybe.
*
Murtagh could just picture Thorn stalking down a narrow street, scraping the sides of buildings with his armored shoulders, breaking beams and shutters and cornices while folks fled before him. Murtagh knew how that would end, with fire and blood and a flattened circle of destruction.

“I think you’d best wait here.”

Thorn shuffled his velvet wings and coughed deep in his throat. His way of laughing. *Then perhaps you should use magic to change the color of my scales, and we could pretend to be Eragon and Saphira. Wouldn’t that be fine sport?
*
Murtagh snorted as he laid Zar’roc across a patch of dry grass. He’d been surprised to discover that Thorn had a trenchant sense of humor. It hadn’t been readily apparent when they’d been bonded, partly because of Thorn’s youth and partly because of . . . attending circumstances.

For a moment, Murtagh’s mood darkened.

*No? Well then, if you change your mind—­
*
“You’ll be the first to know.”

Mmm. With the tip of his snout, Thorn nudged the sword. *I wish you would take your fang. Your claw. Your sharpened affliction.
*
Murtagh knew Thorn was nervous. He always was when Murtagh left, even for a short while. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

A puff of pale smoke rose from the dragon’s flared nostrils. *I don’t trust that shark-­mouthed skulker.
*
“I don’t trust anyone. Except for you.”

*And her.
*
Murtagh faltered as he went to one of the saddlebags that hung along Thorn’s side. An image of Nasuada’s almond eyes flashed before him. Cheekbones. Teeth. Parts and pieces that failed to sum the whole. A memory of her scent, accompanied by a yearning and a sorrow, an aching absence for what might have been and now was lost.

“Yes.” He couldn’t have lied to Thorn even if he wanted to. They were too closely joined for that.

The dragon was kind enough to return the conversation to safer ground. *Do you think Sarros has scented anything of interest?
*
“It would be better if he hasn’t.” Murtagh excavated a ball of brown twine from the saddlebag.

*But if he has? Do we fly toward the storm or away?
*
A thin smile stretched Murtagh’s lips. “That depends on how violent the storm.”

*It may not be obvious. The wind can lie.
*
He measured a length of twine. “Then we’ll continue sniffing about until it becomes obvious.”

*Hmm. As long as we can still change course if need be.
*
“One hopes.”

Thorn’s near eye—­a deep-­set ruby that gleamed with a fierce inner light—­remained fixed on Murtagh as he cut the twine and used it to tie Zar’roc’s crossguard to belt and scabbard so the crimson sword couldn’t slide free. Then he placed Zar’roc in the saddle­bag, where it would be safe and hidden, and returned to stand before Thorn.

“I’ll be back before dawn.”

The dragon hunkered low on his haunches, as if braced to take a blow. He kneaded the ground with his curved claws, like a great cat kneading a blanket, and small rocks popped and cracked with explosive force between his talons. A low hum, almost a whine, came from his chest.

Murtagh laid a hand on Thorn’s jagged forehead and strove to impress a sense of calm and confidence on him. Dark chords of distress echoed in the depths of Thorn’s mindscape.

“I’ll be fine.”*
*
*If you need me—­
*
“You’ll be there. I know.”

Thorn bent his neck, and his claws grew still. From his mind, Murtagh felt a hard—­if brittle—­resolve.

They understood each other.

“Be careful. Watch for any who might try to sneak up on you.”

Another bone-­vibrating hum emanated from the center of Thorn&rs…