The Skies of Pern (48 page)

Read The Skies of Pern Online

Authors: Anne McCaffrey

Then F’lessan issued the invitation for those interested to adjourn to Honshu. And eleven riders and dragons had flown to the weyrhold. That had been the heady part, especially with Mirrim present—showing off the observatory and bringing up images of the minor planets above the horizon. When F’lessan and Tai realized that Palla had remembered a good deal of her apprentice studies, they encouraged her to explain to J’fery, K’van, and T’gellan. Talina listened in the way she had of being of a group but not part of it. Mirrim pretended interest but Tai was aware of her restlessness, so when she offered to find out what there was to eat in the weyrhold, F’lessan told her by all means to find out and serve it up. He snagged Tai by the hand.

“She knows where everything is—” F’lessan murmured in her ear and paused significantly, “in the kitchen. Let her.”

Revived by baskets of bread, cheese, fruit, cold river fish, meat, and klah that Mirrim served, the spontaneous first session of Astronomy for Weyrleaders—as F’lessan jokingly called it—went on till well after Rigel had set.

Having bid farewell to their guests, Tai began to clear the baskets, sweeping the remnants into one while F’lessan put the telescope to bed. She was gathering up the prints when he caught her starting to file them.

“Just make a neat pile. We need to get some rest tonight, my dear green,” he said, curling his arms about her, pulling her into him and away from the chore. She leaned out of his arms to snag several more prints. “They’ll come to no harm and filing will not only take you ages but you’re tired enough to make mistakes.” He kissed her neck. “You take the litter down with Zaranth. I’ll close the roof and meet you downstairs.”

“You walked up, I’ll go down,” she said firmly.

“No, I will. It’s easier going down, and that way you’ll have enough time to put the kitchen to rights after Mirrim’s been messing in it and
then
we’ll both take a quick swim in the river which I suddenly feel the urge to do.”

F’lessan knew exactly how to manipulate her, Tai thought as
she climbed the ladder to the roof and took the baskets that F’lessan handed up to her, grinning with his success. She heard the machinery that closed the roof begin to whir as she mounted Zaranth. Golanth’s eyes blinked greenly at her.

I come with you
, he said and dropped off the knob of stone he’d been perched on.

She left the two dragons on the terrace and made for the kitchen. All the lights were on and most of the cupboards left half ajar. There was rather more of a mess to clear up than she’d’ve thought. Had Mirrim done this on purpose? No, Talina had been with her; Talina might be indolent but she wasn’t spiteful. Mirrim still didn’t believe her about the pelts. Although Golanth had now managed, with just a little control from Zaranth, to alter the direction of trundlebugs only as much as was actually required, that had been as much experimentation as they had had time for. Images had had to be selected and prepared for the Weyrleaders’ meeting and that had taken all their spare time. Well, almost all their spare time. Tai blushed as she cleared and wiped the worktops and decided that there weren’t really that many dishes that needed more than a quick rinse. There was enough redfruit to make a pitcher of juice and she suspected that F’lessan would be thirsty. Any more klah and they’d never get to sleep. Maybe she wouldn’t rest anyway, with so much of that meeting to review; vivid scenes in her mind. F’lessan would probably want to talk, and he always insisted that she have opinions and share them with him.

He looked tired when he finally got to the kitchen but his eyes lit up at the sight of the pitcher of juice. He had towels and two blankets over his shoulder, and clean clothes—for both of them—neatly folded over his left arm.

“How did you know I’d be dry as a bone, my dear green?” He poured juice into the two glasses.

She pointed to what he was carrying.

“Golanth has informed me that he now needs to wash the brine of Cove Hold off him and so does Zaranth, only she thinks we should all go to sleep. So I thought, if we went down to the river, they could get a good wash and we could watch the stars for
what remains of the night. I really,” and somehow he managed to stretch both arms out in a very dramatic gesture, “feel too elated to be cooped up! Drink!”

She did, laughing between swallows, because F’lessan in this mood was not easy to gainsay. And she did feel that she’d knocked down a few private walls tonight. So much had happened. So incredibly much. She’d been part of a special Weyrleader meeting, had spoken up and given information, shown examples of star images she herself had taken on the Honshu scope, and received commendatory glances from Erragon, Lytol, F’lar, and even Lessa. She felt for the first time that she was really a dragonrider, not
just
a green rider!

They finished the juice, mounted their dragons—F’lessan tossed over her clothes and a towel—and glided down from Honshu’s heights to the river below the terraces. The pool was wide enough for several dragons to bathe in. It was deep on the Honshu side, where thick underbrush buried roots into cracked rocks, but the other side slanted up to a wide path packed down by centuries of herdbeasts watering there. Three wide terraces stepped up from the watering place before vegetation had found sufficient soil to nourish it. Many Monacan dragons had sunned here after the Flood. From the uppermost level, they could have seen the slate roofs of the cluster of holds. But daybreak was several hours away.

F’lessan had brought a pouch of sweetsand. Tai looked forward to a quick wash, even in cold river water. Cove Hold had been warm and she’d been in a nervous sweat there, worked up another in the crowded control room while showing off the fine clear sky view that the Honshu scope was capable of. They soaped each other, still with enough energy to make it playful. But fatigue settled on both of them soon enough, and the dragons splashed in gratefully to take their turn. Their antics sent sprays of water high up the bank. Laughing, F’lessan moved their things up on to the highest of the terraces and, throwing Tai her towel, began to dry himself. They dressed, since the dawn air could be chill, spread one blanket down, and pulled the other over them, using the towels as pillows against the rough ground cover.

Tai smiled, listening to the dragons’ happy noises, and was at peace with herself in a fashion she had rarely experienced.

“I don’t know if they sound more like fire-lizards or dolphins when they ‘talk’ like that,” F’lessan said, cocking one arm under his head and reaching for her hand with the other.

“They’re related, after all,” she said, somewhat drowsily, quite content to lie there, next to him, letting his fingers twine in hers.

She heard him sigh.

“There are so many things to talk about,” he murmured, “but I think they can wait until tomorrow, don’t you?”

He turned his head toward her, though she couldn’t see but a blur of his face and the whiteness of his teeth in one of his so charming smiles.

“It is tomorrow, you know.”

“Well, a little further into the morning, then.”

He lifted his head just enough to kiss her lightly.

Why was it that the tenderest of his kisses affected her more than the passionate ones—which she enjoyed, too? It was his tenderness toward her that undid her most.

S
he woke, sitting bolt upright, a second before everything happened, before Golanth roared, before Zaranth reacted to what she was staring at so intensely in the underbrush. That moment was graven on the back of her eyes as surely as the Fireball’s explosion: she and F’lessan on the uppermost terrace, Zaranth just below them, her body taut for something Tai could not see and Golanth, head toward the river, sprawled lengthwise on the lowest level, his tail half propped against a thick bush.

Whether it was his tail which had enticed them or not would always be moot. Many felines were hunting that dawn. The sun had risen and sun-warm dragon hide exuded a scent all its own. Dragons generally sought heights for sunbathing. This morning, with all four deeply asleep, the dragons were accessible.

The felines had arrived stealthily. Perhaps thirst had initially drawn them to the river, only to find the sleeping dragons. Perhaps
Golanth’s tail had twitched in his sleep, attracting attention. Whatever Zaranth was staring at suddenly was flung backward at incredible speed and that was the signal for an orange-striped feline to clamp its teeth on Golanth’s tail. At his roar the rest of the considerable hunting party attacked. Spotted, striped, and tawny hides, assaulting him from three directions, abruptly covered the bronze.

He reared to his full height, front legs clawing the air to remove the one that had sunk teeth in his left eye ridge. He tried to whip free of the one on his tail and kick off the third which had bitten into the fold of his flesh between rib cage and hip, to buck against the others racing in from the thick shrubs that bordered the river. Feline jaws clamped harder, determined to retain their hold.

Then others used Golanth’s body as stairs to attack Zaranth, talons outstretched, heads angled to sink fangs in whatever flesh they could reach.

F’lessan moved so quickly that, in throwing the blanket from his legs, he entangled Tai in its folds. Springing forward and then vaulting over Zaranth’s hindquarters, he launched himself at the nearest feline, brandishing the knife a rider always carried, though it was a blade that was shorter than the fangs of the nearest beast. Zaranth, too, reared, sending the one attacking her head spinning through the air.

These are NOT trundlebugs
, Zaranth cried. THROW
them away
!

Golanth had torn the one off his face with one forepaw, but it turned in midair, legs at full stretch, and its right front paw raked down F’lessan’s back. Its momentum took it to the ground where it instantly gathered and leaped toward the rider. F’lessan ducked, plunged his knife into the chest of the beast, and rolled away, the feline snarling with rage and trying to get rid of the knife lodged in it. F’lessan grabbed a loose rock and, with it as a weapon, ran to help his dragon, despite the blood flowing from the claw marks on his back.

Trapped on one side by the terrace, Golanth had no way to unfurl his right wing. With his rider in peril, he would not go
between
where he could have shed the felines in the great black cold. Nor, in such close quarters, for fear of searing their beloved riders,
could either dragon summon residual flame to deter their attackers. One feline was attempting to shred Golanth’s left inner wing sail and others, sinking talons deeply into tough dragon hide, climbed all over him.

Not just over Golanth, Tai realized, frantic to get free of the blanket. Tawny bodies were flinging themselves at Zaranth as well but didn’t seem able to do more than leave long bleeding furrows. The beast biting the soft part of Golanth’s flank was flung into the river where it sank instantly. Zaranth howled, shaking her head as if ridding it of a burden, kicking out with a hind leg though Tai saw nothing but a darker green liquid oozing down the green leg. A tawny streak came at her from behind and disappeared. The one trying to run up Golanth’s back was suddenly in midair, all limbs spread as if something had picked it up by the belly and punched it violently away. The one with jaws sunk into Golanth’s left hind leg was similarly torn from him. Ripping at the blanket, Tai got to her feet, clutching it in one hand, wishing it had been any sort of a hard-edged weapon, wondering how she could get to F’lessan who now had two large felines circling him. Blood poured down his back.

The next thing she knew, she was beside F’lessan, the blanket billowing in the air behind her from the force of her arrival. Cracking the blanket like a beast whip, she hit the face of one of the felines who retreated, snarling, before she flung the blanket over the next one, catching the folds on its claws. F’lessan pushed her down and the second beast leaped on him. During the split second before the animal reached him, Tai could only think one thing: I’ve lost him! I’ve lost him!

Suddenly the air was full of dragons, wings spread, and flame spouting from their mouths. Tai was horrified lest the dragon fire sear them. Human flesh would shrivel—that powerful fire could char through dragon flesh.

WATCH ME
! Zaranth’s voice was like a thunder in the innermost part of Tai’s skull.
FLING THEM
! was answered by even more powerful external shrieks. Beset by fear and terror, by the horror of losing F’lessan and Golanth, she was utterly unable to absorb the strange things that were happening. Why was Zaranth
telling the other dragons to watch her, to fling them? Zaranth never hurt the trundlebugs she moved! Now felines were spinning through the air without dragons touching them. Why had that one exploded into fragments?

Abruptly the creature struggling out of the blanket at Tai’s feet was no longer there, just the blanket sinking emptily to the ground. The predator who had been positioning its hind legs to disembowel F’lessan was gone. Badly wounded, F’lessan turned toward Golanth, his body stretching out, yearning, but unable to rise and go to the bronze. Over the sound of dragon and feline roars and snarls, Tai could hear him calling Golanth’s name!

Tai staggered to F’lessan, to help him to reach Golanth, staggered again as her eyes were blurred. Or was it because her legs buckled under her?

That was when she saw the predators launching themselves—all four at full stretch—from the terrace on which she and F’lessan had been sleeping. They must have crept around behind, concealed in the thick vegetation. Zaranth lifted her torso at precisely the right moment—as if she’d seen them from one facet of her red whirling eyes—and reacted. Three crashed into her body and were deflected away. The fourth was still in midair: it would land right on Golanth’s shoulders, by the last neck ridge, where there was nothing to protect the dragon’s spine. If jaws or talons connected, a single tear could end Golanth’s life.

NO! NO! Later Tai would wonder why her throat was raw. She knew she pointed, unable to do more than that, aghast at what would happen if that predator made it to Golanth’s back. The bronze dragon would die! F’lessan would die! She would die! “NO! NO! NO!” She’d lose them both! A blur of gold across bronze.

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