egg on the ledge and roll it with her forelegs towards what must be a hole in the cliff. It was a long moment before the queen reappeared again. Then she dove towards the sea, hovering over the foamy crest of a wave that rolled in precariously close to the endangered clutch. With a blurred movement, the queen was hovering in front of Menolly and scolding like an old aunt.
Although Menolly couldn’t help grinning at the thought, she was filled with a sense of pity and admiration for the courage of the little queen, single-handedly trying to rescue her clutch. If the dead fire lizards were that fully formed, the clutch was near to hatching. No wonder the queen could barely move the eggs.
“You want me to help you move the eggs, right? Well, we’ll see what I can dol”
Ready to jump back if she had mistaken the little queen’s imperious command, Menolly very carefully picked up an egg. It was warm to the touch and hard. Dragon eggs, she knew, were soft when first laid but hardened slowly on the hot sands of the Hatching Grounds in the Weyrs. These definitely must be close to hatching.
Closing the fingers of her damaged hand carefully around the egg, Menolly searched for and found foot and hand holds, and reached the queen’s ledge. She carefully deposited the egg. The little queen appeared, one front talon resting proprietarily on the egg, and then she leaned forward, towards Menolly’s face, so dose that the fantastic motion of the many-faceted eyes were clearly visible. The queen gave a sort of sweet chirp and then, in a very businesslike manner, began to scold Menolly as she rolled her egg to safety.
Menolly managed three eggs in her hand the next Itune. But it was obvious that between the onrushing I tide and the startling number of eggs in the clutch, sfliere’d be quite a race.
“If the hole were bigger,” she told the little queen as
ic deposited three eggs, “some of the bronzes could xelp you roll.”
55
The queen paid her no attention, busy pushing the three eggs, one at a time, to safety.
Menolly peered into the opening, but the fire lizard’s body obscured any view. If the hole was bigger and the ledge consequently broader, Menolly could bring the rest of the eggs up in her carry-sack.
Hoping that she wouldn’t pull down the cliffside and bury the queen, clutch and all, Menolly prodded cautiously at the mouth of the opening. Loose sand came showering down.
The queen took to scolding frantically as Menolly brushed the rubble from the ledge. Then she felt around the opening. There seemed to be solid stone just beyond. Menolly yanked away at the looser rock, until she had a nice tunnel exposed with a slightly wider opening.
Ignoring the little queen’s furious complaints, Menolly climbed down, unslinging her sack when she reached the ground. When the little queen saw Menolly putting the eggs in the sack, she began to have hysterics, beating at Menolly’s head and hands.
“Now, look here,” Menolly said sternly, “I am not stealing your eggs. I am trying to get them all to safety in jig time. I can do it with the sack but not by the handful.”
Menolly waited a moment, glaring at the little queen who hovered at eye level.
“Did you understand me?” Menolly pointed to the waves, more vigorously dashing up the small beach. “The tide is coming in. Dragons couldn’t stop it now.” Menolly put another egg carefully in the sack. As it was she’d have to make two, maybe three trips or risk breaking the eggs. “I take this,” and she gestured up the ledge, “up there. Do you understand, you silly beast?”
Evidently, the little creature did because, crooning anxiously, she took her position on the ledge, her wings half-extended and twitching as she watched Menoll/s progress up to her.
Menolly could climb faster with two hands. And she
56
could, carefully, roll the eggs from the mouth of the sack well down the tunnelway.
“You’d better get the bronzes to help you now, or well have the ledge stacked too high.”