McCaffrey, Anne – DragonQuest. Chapter 7, 8

“Ah, but that was something new, exciting,” she replied. “And it was new here, too, for the Oldtimers. What isn’t new is that they have another forty-some Turns to fight Thread in our time. Some of them have had fifteen and twenty Turns of fighting Thread. We have barely seven.”

The Smith put both hands on the table and pushed himself to his feet.

“Talk makes no miracles. To effect an end to Thread we must get the dragons to the source. Terry, pour a cup of that excellent klah for Wansor and let us attack the problem with good heart.”

As F’lar rose with Lessa, F’nor’s message rustled at his belt.

“Let me take a look at F’nor’s message, Lessa, before we go.”

He opened the closely written pages, his eye catching the repetition of “fire lizard” before his mind grasped the sense of what he was reading.

“Impressing? A fire lizard?” he exclaimed, holding the letter so that Lessa could verify it.

“No one’s ever managed to catch a fire lizard,” Fandarel said.

“F’nor has,” F’lar told him, “and Brekke, and Mirrim. Who’s Mirrim?”

“Brekke’s fosterling,” the Weyrwoman replied absently, her eyes scanning the message as rapidly as possible. “One of L’trel’s by some woman or other of his. No, Kylara wouldn’t have liked that!”

F’lar shushed her, passing the sheets over to Fandarel who was curious now.

“Are fire lizards related to dragons?” asked the Craft-second.

“Judging by what F’nor says, more than we realized.” F’lar handed Terry the last page, looking up at Fandarel. “What do you think?”

The Smith began to realign his features into a frown but stopped, grinning broadly instead.

“Ask the Masterherder. He breeds animals. I breed machines.”

He saluted Lessa with his mug and strode to the wall he had been contemplating when they entered, immediately lost in thought.

“A good point,” F’lar said with a laugh to his remaining audience.

“F’lar? Remember that flawed piece of metal, with that garble of words? The one with the scribble like last night’s. It mentioned fire lizards, too. That was one of the few words that made sense.”

“So?”

“I wish we hadn’t given that plate back to Fort Weyr. It was more important than we realized.”

“There may be more at Fort Weyr that’s important,” F’lar said, gloomily. “It was the first Weyr. Who knows what we might find if we could search there!”

Lessa made a face, thinking of Mardra and T’ron.

“T’ron’s not hard to manage,” she mused.

“Lessa, no nonsense now.”

“If fire lizards are so much like dragons, could they be trained to go between, as dragons can, and be messengers?” asked Terry.

“How long would that take?” asked the Smith, less unaware of his surroundings than he looked. “How much time have we got this Turn?”

CHAPTER VIII

Midmorning at Southern Weyr

“No, Rannelly, I’ve not seen Kylara all morning,” Brekke told the old woman patiently, for the fourth time that morning.

“And you’ve not taken a good look at your own poor queen, either, I’ll warrant, fooling around with these — these nuisancy flitterbys,” Rannelly retorted, grumbling as she limped out of the Weyrhall.

Brekke had finally found time to see to Mirrim’s wounded brown. He was so stuffed with juicy tidbits from the hand of his overzealous nurse that he barely opened one lid when Brekke inspected him. Numbweed worked as well on lizard as on dragon and human.

“He’s doing just fine, dear,” Brekke told the anxious girl, the greens fluttering on the child’s shoulders in response to her exaggerated sigh of relief. “Now, don’t overfeed them. They’ll split their hides.”

“Do you think they’ll stay?”

“With such care as you lavish on them, sweeting, they’re not likely to leave. But you have chores which I cannot in conscience permit you to shirk …”

“All because of Kylara …”

“Mirrim!”

Ashamed, the girl hung her head, but she deeply resented the fact that Kylara gave all the orders and did no work leaving her tasks to fall to Brekke. It wasn’t fair. Mirrim was very very glad that the little lizards had preferred her to that woman.

“What did old Rannelly mean about your queen? You take good care of Wirenth. She lacks for nothing,” said Mirrim.

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