If I judge this accurately, there should be several levels of rooms in this section, both beyond the one the boys found and above.
Jaxom goggled at the map and caught Felessans eye. He was excited, too, but he kept on eating. Jaxom spooned up another huge mouthful it tasted so good but he did wish that the skin were not upside down to him.
Id swear there were no upper weyr entrances on that side of the Bowl, Flar muttered, shaking his head.
There was access to the Bowl on the ground level, Fandarel said, his forefinger covering what he ought to be showing. We found it, sealed up. Possibly because of that rockfall.
Jaxom looked anxiously at Felessan who became engrossed in his plate. When Felessan made those faces, had he meant he hadnt told them? Or he had? Jaxom wished he knew.
That seam was barely discernible, the Masterharper said. The sealing substance was more effective than any mortar Ive ever seen; transparent, smooth and strong.
One could not chip it, rumbled Fandarel, shaking his head.
Why would they seal off an exit to the Bowl? Lessa asked.
Because they werent using that section of the Weyr, Flar suggested. Certainly no one has used those corridors for the Egg knows how many Turns. There werent even footprints in the dust of most of them we searched.
Waiting for the adult wrath that must surely descend on him now, Jaxom kept his eyes on his plate. He couldnt bear Lessas recriminations. He dreaded the look in Lytols eyes when he learned of his wards blasphemous act. How could he have been so deaf to all Lytols patient teachings?
We found enough of interest in the dusty, moldy old Records that had been ignored as useless, Flars voice went on.
Jaxom hazarded a glance and saw the Weyrleader tousle Felessans hair; watched as the man actually grinned at him, Jaxom. Jaxom was almost sick with relief. None of the adults knew what he and Felessan had done in the Hatching Grounds.
These boys have already led us to exquisite treasures, eh, Fandarel?
Let us hope that they are not the only legacies left in forgotten rooms, the Mastersmith said in his deep rumble of a voice. Absently he stroked the smooth metal of the magnifying device cradled in the crook of his arm.
CHAPTER VI
Midmorning at Southern Weyr
Early Morning at Nabol Hold:
Next Day
HOT, sandy and sticky with sweat and salt, triumph over-rode all minor irritations as Kylara stared down at the clutch she had unearthed.
They can have their seven, she muttered, staring in the general direction of northeast and the Weyr. Ive got an entire nest. And another gold.
Exaltations welled out of her in a raucous laugh. Just wait until Meron of Nabol saw these beauties! There was no doubt in her mind that the Holder hated dragonmen because he envied them their beasts. Hed often carped that Impressions ought not to be monopolized by one inbred sodality. Well, lets see if mighty Meron could Impress a fire lizard. She wasnt sure which would please her more: if he could or if he couldnt. Either wayd work for her. But if he could Impress a fire lizard, a bronze, say, and she had a queen on her wrist, and the two mated … It might not be as spectacular as with the larger beasts, but then, given Merons natural endowment … Kylara smiled in sensuous anticipation.
Youd better be worth this, she told the eggs.
She put the thirty-four hardened eggs into several thicknesses of the firestone bagging shed brought along. She wrapped that bundle in wher-hides and then in her thick wool cloak. Shed been Weyrwoman long enough to realize that a suddenly cooled egg would never hatch. And these were mighty close to cracking shell.
So much the better.
Prideth had been tolerant of her riders preoccupation with fire-lizard eggs. She had obediently landed in a hundred coves along the western coast, waiting, not unhappily in the hot sun, while Kylara quartered the burning sands, looking for any trace of fire-lizard buryings. But Prideth grumbled anxiously when Kylara gave her the coordinates for Nabol Hold, not Southern Weyr.