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 PostThe 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 Alagaesia. 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.
As always, this is for my family.
And also for those who stand on the outside, looking in.
Behold, the land of Alagaësia, vast and verdant, full of mystery. Here stand mountains that scrape the stars, forests as fathomless as an ocean, deserts scorched to barrenness, and more besides. Throughout, one will find divers peoples and creatures, from hardy humans to long-lived elves to deep-dwelling dwarves to war-wedded Urgals. And above all else, dragons—bright and brilliant and terrifying in their ancient glory.
For the past century, King Galbatorix reigned as tyrant over most of the human-settled lands and was a terror to the other races as well. By his will, the dragons were broken, and their numbers much reduced until only few remained.
Those brave folk who opposed Galbatorix fled into the hinterlands, where they came to call themselves the Varden. There they dwelt, with little hope for victory, until the dragon Saphira hatched for the human Eragon.
Together—and under the wise leadership of the Lady Nasuada—they marched against Galbatorix’s Empire.
Now the king is slain, and the war to overthrow him is ended, and the land entered a state of renewal.
Yet even in this peace, shadows stir, and there are whispers of strange happenings about the edges of Alagaësia, and of these, one man seeks to know the truth….
—
Atten the Red
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.
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.
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.
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.
“You’ll be the first to know.”
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 anyone. Except for you.”
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.
