No hace tanto tiempo, Eragon "Asesino de sombra, Jinete de dragón" no era más que un pobre muchacho que vivía en una granja y su dragona, Saphira, una piedra azul oculta en el bosque. Ahora, el destino de una civilización recae sobre sus hombros.Los largos meses de entrenamiento y batallas les han traído victorias y esperanza pero también pérdidas terribles. Pero la verdadera batalla aún no ha llegado: deberán enfrentarse con Galbatorix. Cuando finalmente lo hagan, tendrán que ser lo suficientemente fuertes como para vencerle porque si ellos no lo hacen, nadie podrá. No habrá una segunda oportunidad. El Jinete y su dragona han llegado mucho más lejos de lo que nadie se atrevía ni siquiera a imaginar, pero ¿pueden derrocar al malvado Rey y devolver la justicia a Alagaesia? Y si así es ¿cuál será el precio que tendrán que pagar?

Eragon

By Christopher Paolini

Roca Editorial

Copyright © 2006 Christopher Paolini
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9788496284326

Prologue

Shade of Fear

Wind howled through the night, carrying a scent that would changethe world. A tall Shade lifted his head and sniffed the air. Helooked human except for his crimson hair and maroon eyes.

He blinked in surprise. The message had been correct; they werehere. Or was it a trap? He weighed the odds, then said icily,"Spread out; hide behind trees and bushes. Stop whoever is coming ... or die."

Around him shuffled twelve Urgals with short swords and round ironshields painted with black symbols. They resembled men with bowedlegs and thick, brutish arms made for crushing. A pair of twistedhorns grew above their small ears. The monsters hurried into thebrush, grunting as they hid. Soon the rustling quieted and theforest was silent again.

The Shade peered around a thick tree and looked up the trail. It wastoo dark for any human to see, but for him the faint moonlight waslike sunshine streaming between the trees; every detail was clearand sharp to his searching gaze. He remained unnaturally quiet, along pale sword in his hand. A wire-thin scratch curved down theblade. The weapon was thin enough to slip between a pair of ribs,yet stout enough to hack through the hardest armor.

The Urgals could not see as well as the Shade; they groped likeblind beggars, fumbling with their weapons. An owl screeched,cutting through the silence. No one relaxed until the bird flewpast. Then the monsters shivered in the cold night; one snapped atwig with his heavy boot. The Shade hissed in anger, and the Urgalsshrank back, motionless. He suppressed his distaste-they smelledlike fetid meat-and turned away. They were tools, nothing more.

The Shade forced back his impatience as the minutes became hours.The scent must have wafted far ahead of its owners. He did not letthe Urgals get up or warm themselves. He denied himself thoseluxuries, too, and stayed behind the tree, watching the trail.Another gust of wind rushed through the forest. The smell wasstronger this time. Excited, he lifted a thin lip in a snarl."Get ready," he whispered, his whole body vibrating. The tip of hissword moved in small circles. It had taken many plots and much painto bring himself to this moment. It would not do to lose controlnow.

Eyes brightened under the Urgals' thick brows, and they grippedtheir weapons tighter. Ahead of them, the Shade heard a clink assomething hard struck a loose stone. Faint smudges emerged from thedarkness and came down the trail.

Three white horses with riders cantered toward the ambush, theirheads held high and proud, their coats rippling in the moonlightlike liquid silver.

On the first horse was an elf with pointed ears and elegantlyslanted eyebrows. His build was slim but strong, like a rapier. Apowerful bow was slung on his back. A sword pressed against his sideopposite a quiver of arrows fletched with swan feathers.

The last rider had the same fair face and angled features as theother. He carried a long spear in his right hand and a white daggerat his belt. A helm of extraordinary craftsmanship, wrought withamber and gold, rested on his head.

Between these two rode a raven-haired elven lady, who surveyed hersurroundings with poise. Framed by long black locks, her deep eyesshone with a driving force. Her clothes were unadorned, yet herbeauty was undiminished. At her side was a sword, and on her back along bow with a quiver. She carried in her lap a pouch that shefrequently looked at, as if to reassure herself that it was stillthere.

One of the elves spoke quietly, but the Shade could not hear whatwas said. The lady answered with obvious authority, and her guardsswitched places. The one wearing the helm took the lead, shiftinghis spear to a readier grip. They passed the Shade's hiding placeand the first few Urgals without suspicion.

The Shade was already savoring his victory when the wind changeddirection and swept toward the elves, heavy with the Urgals' stench.The horses snorted with alarm and tossed their heads. The ridersstiffened, eyes flashing from side to side, then wheeled theirmounts around and galloped away.

The lady's horse surged forward, leaving her guards far behind.Forsaking their hiding, the Urgals stood and released a stream ofblack arrows. The Shade jumped out from behind the tree, raised hisright hand, and shouted, "Garjzla!"

A red bolt flashed from his palm toward the elven lady, illuminatingthe trees with a bloody light. It struck her steed, and the horsetoppled with a high-pitched squeal, plowing into the groundchest-first. She leapt off the animal with inhuman speed, landedlightly, then glanced back for her guards.

The Urgals' deadly arrows quickly brought down the two elves. Theyfell from the noble horses, blood pooling in the dirt. As the Urgalsrushed to the slain elves, the Shade screamed, "After her! She isthe one I want!" The monsters grunted and rushed down the trail.

A cry tore from the elf's lips as she saw her dead companions. Shetook a step toward them, then cursed her enemies and bounded intothe forest.

While the Urgals crashed through the trees, the Shade climbed apiece of granite that jutted above them. From his perch he could seeall of the surrounding forest. He raised his hand and uttered,"Bvetq istalri!" and a quarter-mile section of the forest explodedinto flames. Grimly he burned one section after another until therewas a ring of fire, a half-league across, around the ambush site.The flames looked like a molten crown resting on the forest.Satisfied, he watched the ring carefully, in case it should falter.

The band of fire thickened, contracting the area the Urgals had tosearch. Suddenly, the Shade heard shouts and a coarse scream.Through the trees he saw three of his charges fall in a pile,mortally wounded. He caught a glimpse of the elf running from theremaining Urgals.

She fled toward the craggy piece of granite at a tremendous speed.The Shade examined the ground twenty feet below, then jumped andlanded nimbly in front of her. She skidded around and sped back tothe trail. Black Urgal blood dripped from her sword, staining thepouch in her hand.

The horned monsters came out of the forest and hemmed her in,blocking the only escape routes. Her head whipped around as shetried to find a way out. Seeing none, she drew herself up with regaldisdain. The Shade approached her with a raised hand, allowinghimself to enjoy her helplessness.

"Get her."

As the Urgals surged forward, the elf pulled open the pouch, reachedinto it, and then let it drop to the ground. In her hands was alarge sapphire stone that reflected the angry light of the fires.She raised it over her head, lips forming frantic words. Desperate,the Shade barked, "Garjzla!"

A ball of red flame sprang from his hand and flew toward the elf,fast as an arrow. But he was too late. A flash of emerald lightbriefly illuminated the forest, and the stone vanished. Then the redfire smote her and she collapsed. The Shade howled in rage and stalked forward, flinging his sword at a tree. It passed halfway through the trunk, where it stuck, quivering. He shot nine bolts of energy from his palm-which killedthe Urgals instantly-then ripped his sword free and strode to theelf.

Prophecies of revenge, spoken in a wretched language only he knew,rolled from his tongue. He clenched his thin hands and glared at thesky. The cold stars stared back, unwinking, otherworldly watchers.Disgust curled his lip before he turned back to the unconscious elf.Her beauty, which would have entranced any mortal man, held no charmfor him. He confirmed that the stone was gone, then retrieved hishorse from its hiding place among the trees. After tying the elfonto the saddle, he mounted the charger and made his way out of thewoods.

He quenched the fires in his path but left the rest to burn.

Continues...

Excerpted from Eragonby Christopher Paolini Copyright © 2006 by Christopher Paolini. Excerpted by permission.
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