do dragons know?”
“Search dragons know,” Moreta said in a mysterious voice, a rote
reply after so many repetitions. “Each Weyr has dragons who sense the potential in youngsters.” Moreta deepened the mystery in her voice. “There are folk, weyrbom, who’ve known dragons and riders all their lives who don’t Impress, and complete strangerslike my-selfwho do. The dragons always know.”
“The dragons always know …” Oklina’s whisper was half prayer, half imprecation. She stole a quick look up the fire-heights as if she feared the somnolent dragons might take offense if they heard.
“Come, Oklina,” Moreta said briskly. “I’m dying to dance.”