She wondered frantically how long it had taken her to get down the cliff. How long did she have before Thread would be raining down on her unprotected body?
Body? She might not get past the bobble in the wall with her shoulders .. . but., . She reversed her position, and feet, legs, hips, all right up to the shoulders passed into the safety of solid rock. Her head was covered, but only just, by the cliff overhang.
Did Thread see where it was going when it fell? Would it notice her, crowded into this hole as it flashed by? Then she saw the thong of the carry-sack where she’d looped it over the ledge to keep it handy but out of her way. If Thread got into the spiderclaws.
She pulled herself far enough out of the hole to cast
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an eye above. No silver yet! No sound but the steadily increasing thrumming. That wouldn’t have anything to do with Thread, would it?
The carry-sack thong had bitten into the ledge and she had a job freeing it, having to yank rather hard. The next thing she knew the sack came free, the force of her pull threw her backwards, cracking her head on the roof of her tunnel, and then the surface beneath her buttocks started to slide, out and down. Menolly clawed her way into the tunnel, as the ledge slowly detached itself from the face of the cliff and tumbled down onto the beach.
Menolly scrambled back quickly, afraid more of the entrance would go, and suddenly she was in a cave, wide, high, deep, clutching the carry-sack and staring at the greatly widened mouth.
The thrumming was behind her and, startled at what she could only consider to be an additional threat, she whirled.
Fire lizards were perched around the walls, clinging to rock spur and ledge. Every eye glinted at the mound of eggs in the sandy center of the cave. The thrumming came from the throats of all the little fire lizards, and they were far too intent on what was happening to the eggs to give any heed to her abrupt appearance.
Just as Menolly realized that she was witnessing a Hatching, the first egg began to rock and cracks appeared in its shell.
It rocked itself off the mound of the clutch and, in hitting the ground, split From the two parts emerged a tiny creature, not much bigger than MenoHy*s hand, glistening brown and creeling with hunger, swaying its head back and forth and tottering forward a few awkward steps. Tlie transparent brown wings unfolded, flapping weakly to dry, and the creature’s balance improved. The creel turned to a hiss of displeasure, and the little brown peered about defensively.
The other fire lizards crooned, encouraging it to
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some action. With a tiny shriek of anger, the little brown launched itself towards the cave opening, passing so close to Menolly she could have touched it.
The brown fire lizard lurched off the eroded lip of the cave, pumping its wings frantically to achieve flight. Menolly gasped as the creature dropped, and then sighed with relief as it came into sight briefly, airborne, and flew off, across the sea.
More creeling brought her attention back to the clutch. Other fire lizards had begun to hatch in that brief period, each one shaking its wings and then, encouraged by the weyrrnates, flopping and weaving towards the cave mouth, defiantly independent and hungry.
Several greens and blues, a little bronze and two more browns hatched and passed Menolly. And then, as she watched a little blue launch itself, Menolly screamed. No sooner had the blue emerged from the safety of the cliff than she saw the thin, writhing silver of Thread descending. In a moment, the blue was covered with the deadly filaments. It uttered one hideous shriek and disappeared. Dead? Or between? Certainly badly scored.
Two more little fire lizards passed Menolly, and she reacted now.
“No! No! You can’t! You’ll be kffied.” She flung herself across their path.
The angry fire lizards pecked at her unprotected face and while she covered herself, made their escape. She cried aloud when she heard their screams.