If Debera had found the contact unpleasant or annoying, she could have
moved her leg away from his, or moved about on the bench. But she
didn’t seem to mind him overlapping her from time to time in the zeal
to get this or that pose’.
Truth was he was totally conscious of her proximity, the floral
fragrance that she used which didn’t quite hide the new’ smell of the
lovely pale green dress she was wearing. Green was her colour and she
must know that: a gentle green, like new leaves, which made her
complexion glow. Angie had told him the colour of Debera’s Turn’s End
gown, so he’d bought a shirt of a much deeper green so that they’d go
together. He liked the way she’d made a coronet of her long hair, with
pale green ribbons laced in and dangling down her back. Even her
slippers were green. He wondered if there’d be dancing music, too, but
there usually was at Turn’s End. Although maybe not, what with the
Landing Suite’ first. He bent to ask her to reserve dances for him,
but she shushed him.
Listen, too, Ian,’ she said in a soft whisper, gesturing to his pad.
The words are as beautiful as the music.” lantine glanced forward
again, only now realizing that there were singers, too. Had he been
that rapt in being next to Debera without Morath?
I’m here. I listen, too and Morath’s voice startled him, coming into
his head so unexpectedly.
He gulped. Would the dragon always be able to read his mind?
He asked the question again, more loudly, in his own head.
There was no reply. Because there was no reply? Or because there was
none needed to such an obvious question?
But Morath hadn’t sounded upset that he was luxuriating in Debera’s
proximity. She had sounded pleased to be there and listening.
Dragons liked music.
He glanced over his shoulder to the Bowl and could see along the eastern
wall the many pairs of dragon eyes, like so many round blue-green
lanterns up and down the wall of the Weyr where dragons made part of the
audience.
He began then, obediently, to listen to the words, and found himself
drawn in to the drama unfolding, even if he’d known the story from
childhood. The musicians called it the Landing Suite’ and this verse
was about leaving the great colony ships for the last time. A poignant
moment, and the tenor voice rose in a grateful farewell to them where
they would orbit over Landing for ever, their corridors empty, the
bridge deserted, the bays echoing vaults. The tenor, with creditable
breath control, let his final note die away as if lost in the vast
distance between the ships and the planet.
A respectful pause followed and then the ovation which his solo had
indeed merited burst forth. Quickly lantine sketched him, taking his
bows, before he stepped back into the ensemble.
Oh, good, Ian. He was just marvellous,’ Debera said, craning her head
to see what he was doing. She kept right on clapping, her eyes shining.
He’ll be delighted you did him, too.” lantine doubted that, and managed
a smile that did not echo the stab of jealousy he felt because Debera’s
interest had been distracted from him.
She likes you, Ian, said Morath as if from a great distance, though she
was ranged with the other still flightless drago nets on the Bowl floor.
Ian? he echoed in surprise. Other riders had told him that, while
dragons would talk to people other than their own rider, they weren’t so
good at remembering human names. Morath knows my name?
Why shouldn’t I? I hear it often enough. And Morath sounded sort of
tetchy.
Morath may never know just how much that remark means to me, lantine
thought, taking in a deep breath that swelled his chest out.
Now, if he could just get her by herself alone . But she’s never alone,
now that she’s my rider.
lantine stifled a groan which he wanted neither dragon nor rider to hear
and compressed his thoughts as far down in his head as he could. Would
it all be worth it? he wondered. And tried to divorce himself from