“I’m Manora,” the woman said as she returned with a bowl of steaming stew and a mug. “You realize that you’re at Benden Weyr? Good. You may stay here, you know, as long as you wish.”
“I can?” A relief as intense as the pain in her feet flooded Menolly.
“Yes, you can,” and the firmness of that reply made that right inalienable.
“Menolly is my name …” She hesitated because Manora was nodding. “How did you know?”
Manora motioned for her to continue eating. “I’ve seen you at Half-Circle, you know, and the Harper asked the wingleader to keep search for you . .. after you disappeared. We won’t discuss that now, Menolly, but I do assure you that you can stay at Benden.”
“Please don’t teU them…”
“As you wish. Finish your stew and take all the drink. You must sleep to heal.”
She left as noiselessly as she’d come, but Menolly was reassured. Manora was headwoman at Benden Weyr, and what she said was so.
“Die stew was delicious, thick with meat chunks and
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satisfying with herb flavors. She’d almost finished it when she heard a faint rustle and Beauty returned, piteously broadcasting hunger. With a sigh, Menolly pushed the bowl under the little queen’s nose. Beauty licked it dry, then hummed softly and rubbed her face against Menoll/s cheek.
“Where are the others?” Menolly asked, worriedly.
The little queen gave another hum and began to curl herself up in a ball by Menoll/s shoulder. She wouldn’t have been so relaxed if the others were in trouble, Menolly thought, as she sipped the fellis juice.
“Beauty,” Menolly whispered, nudging the queen, “if anyone comes, you go. You mustn’t be seen here. Do you understand?”
The queen rustled her wings irritably.
“Beauty, you mustn’t be seen.” Menolly spoke as sternly as she could, and the queen opened one eye, which whirled slowly. “Oh dear, won’t you understand?” The queen gave a soft reassuring croon and then closed both lids.
The fellis juice was already melting Menolly*s limbs into weightlessness. The dreadful throb of her feet eased. As her eyes relentlessly closed, Menolly had one last thought: how had Beauty known where she was?
When Menolly woke, it was to hear faint sounds of children laughing, an infectious laughter that made her grin and wonder what caused such happiness. Beauty was gone but the space where she’d lain by Menolly*s head was warm to the touch. The curtain across the cubicle parted and a figure was silhouetted against the light beyond.
“Whafs the matter with you all of a sudden, Reppa?” the girl said softly to someone Menolly couldn’t see. “Oh, all right I’m well rid of you for now.” She turned and saw Menolly looking at her. “How do you feel today?” As she adjusted the glow for full light, Menolly saw a girl about her own age, dark hair tied primly back from a face that was sad, tired
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and oddly mature. Then she smiled, and the impression of maturity dissolved. “Did you really run across Nerat?”
“I really didn’t, although my feet feel as if they had.”
“Imagine itl And you holdbred and out during a Falll” “Hiere was a grudging respect in her voice.
“I was running for shelter,” Menolly felt obliged to say.
“Speaking of running, Manora couldn’t come to see you herself right now so you’re in my charge. She’s told me exactly what to do,” and the girl grimaced with such feeling that Menolly had a swift vision of Manora delivering her precise and careful instructions, “and I’ve had a lot of experience…” An expression of pain and anxiety crossed her face.
“Are you Manora’s fosterling?” asked Menolly politely.
The expression deepened for a moment, and then the girl erased all expression from her face, drawing her shoulders up with pride. “No, I’m Brekke’s. My name is Minim. I used to be in the Southern Weyr.”
She made the statement as if that should make all plain to Menolly.
“You mean, in the Southern Continent?”
*Tes,” and Minim sounded irritated.
“I didn’t know anyone lived there.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth than Menolly remembered some snippet of information overheard in conversations between Petiron and her father.