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Informationen zum Autor Christopher Paolini's abiding love of fantasy and science fiction inspired him to begin writing his debut novel! Eragon ! when he graduated from high school at fifteen after being homeschooled all his life. Both Eragon and Eldest! the second book in the Inheritance cycle! became instant New York Times bestsellers. Christopher is currently at work on Brisingr ! the third volume in the cycle. He lives in Montana! where the dramatic landscape feeds his visions of Alagaësia. You can find out more about Christopher and Inheritance at . Klappentext Darkness falls...despair abounds...evil reigns... Eragon and his dragon! Saphira! have just saved the rebel state from destruction by the mighty forces of King Galbatorix! cruel ruler of the Empire. Now Eragon must travel to Ellesmera! land of the elves! for further training in the skills of the Dragon Rider: magic and swordsmanship. Soon he is on the journey of a lifetime! his eyes open to awe-inspring new places and people! his days filled with fresh adventure. But chaos and betrayal plague him at every turn! and nothing is what it seems. Before long! Eragon doesn't know whom he can trust. Meanwhile! his cousin Roran must fight a new battle-one that might put Eragon in even graver danger. Will the king's dark hand strangle all resistance? Eragon may not escape with even his life. . . . Praise for Eragon: "Unusual! powerful . . . fresh and fluid. An impressive start to a writing career that's sure to flourish.” -Booklist! Starred "Christopher Paolini make[s] literary magic with his precocious debut.” -People "The new 'It' book of children's lit.” -U.S. News & World Report "An auspicious beginning to both career and series.” -Publishers Weekly A #1 New York Times Bestseller A #1 Publishers Weekly Bestseller A USA Today Bestseller A Wall Street Journal Bestseller A Book Sense Book of the Year A #1 Book Sense Selection The Council of Elders Saphira's breathing quickened, and she opened her eyes, yawning expansively. Good morning, little one. Is it? He looked down and leaned on his hands, compressing the mattress. It's terrible . . . Murtagh and Ajihad . . . Why didn't sentries in the tunnels warn us of the Urgals? They shouldn't have been able to trail Ajihad's group without being noticed. . . . Arya was right, it doesn't make sense. We may never know the truth , said Saphira gently. She stood, wings brushing the ceiling. You need to eat, then we must discover what the Varden are planning. We can't waste time; a new leader could be chosen within hours. Eragon agreed, thinking of how they had left everyone yesterday: Orik rushing off to give King Hrothgar the tidings, Jörmundur taking Ajihad's body to a place where it would rest until the funeral, and Arya, who stood alone and watched the goings-on. Eragon rose and strapped on Zar'roc and his bow, then bent and lifted Snowfire's saddle. A line of pain sheared through his torso, driving him to the floor, where he writhed, scrabbling at his back. It felt like he was being sawed in half. Saphira growled as the ripping sensation reached her. She tried to soothe him with her own mind but was unable to alleviate his suffering. Her tail instinctually lifted, as if to fight. It took minutes before the fit subsided and the last throb faded away, leaving Eragon gasping. Sweat drenched his face, making his hair stick and his eyes sting. He reached back and gingerly fingered the top of his scar. It was hot and inflamed and sensitive to touch. Saphira lowered her nose and touched him on the arm. Oh, little one. . . . It was worse this time, he said, staggering upright. She let him lean against her as he wiped away the sweat with a rag, then he tentatively stepped for the door. Are you strong enough to go? <...
