“Here, I’ll help you, Jaxom,” Sharra said.
Scrubbing a dragon’s hide free of firestone stink is a tiring job under any circumstances and, although he only had to do one side of Ruth, Jaxom had to grit his teeth to finish.
“I told you not to overdo, Jaxom,” Sharra said, her voice sharp as she straightened from scrubbing the fork of Ruth’s tail and noticed Jaxom leaning against the dragon’s rump. She gestured imperiously toward the beach. “Get out! I’ll bring you some food. You’re whiter than he is!”
“I’m never going to get myself fit if I don’t try!”
“Stop muttering at me under your breath …”
“And don’t tell me you’re doing it for my own good…”
“No, for mine! I don’t want to have to nurse you through a relapse!”
She glared at him so fiercely that he gathered himself erect and stalked out of the water. Though it wasn’t far to his informal bed under the trees, his legs were leaden as he dragged them through the water. He lay down, heaving a sigh of relief, and closed his eyes.
When he opened them again someone was shaking him, and he discovered Brekke peering at him quizzically. “How do you feel now?”
“I was dreaming?”
“Hmmm. Bad ones again?”
“No, curious ones. Only nothing was in focus.” Jaxom shook his head to clear the miasma of nightmare. He realized that it was midday. Ruth was asleep snoring, at his left. On the far right, he could see D’ram resting against Tiroth’s front legs. There was no sign of F’nor or Canth.
“You’re probably hungry,” Brekke said, holding out the plate of food and the mug she’d brought.
“How long did I sleep?” Jaxom was disgusted with himself. He stretched his shoulders, feeling muscles stiff from the exercise of scrubbing a dragon.
“Several hours. Did you good.”
“I dream an awful lot lately. Aftereffect of the firehead?”
Brekke blinked, then frowned thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, I’ve been dreaming rather more than usual myself. Too much sun perhaps.”
At that point, Tiroth woke, bellowed, struggled to his feet, sprinkled his rider with sand. Brekke gasped and rose quickly, her eyes on the old bronze as he shook his body free of sand and extended his wings.
“Brekke, I must go!” D’ram shouted. “Did you hear?”
“Yes, I heard. Do go quickly!” she called back, raising her hand in farewell.
Whatever had roused Tiroth excited the firelizards who began wheeling, diving, chittering raucously. Ruth raised his head, looked at them sleepily, then laid his head back on the sand, unmoved by the excitement. Brekke turned to regard the white dragon, with a curious frown.
“What’s wrong, Brekke?”
“The bronzes at Ista Weyr are blooding their kills.”
“Oh, Shards and Shells!” Jaxom’s initial surprise melded into disappointed disgust with his weakness. He’d hoped to be allowed to attend that mating flight. He’d wanted to cheer G’dened and Barnath on.
“I’ll know,” Brekke said soothingly. “Canth will be there as well as Tiroth. They’ll tell me all. Now, you eat!”
As Jaxom obeyed, still cursing his unfortunate condition, he noticed that Brekke was staring at Ruth again.
“What’s the matter with Ruth?”
“Ruth? Nothing. Poor dear, he was so proud to fly Thread for you, and he’s too tired to care about any thing else right now.”
She rose and as she left him Berd and Grail landed on her shoulders, murmuring softly as she disappeared into the shady forest.
CHAPTER XIV
Early Morning at Harpercraft Hall, Midmorning at Ista Weyr, Midafternoon at Jaxom’s Cove, 15.8.28
IN THE DARK of the early morning Robinton was awakened by Silvina.
“Master Robinton, word has come from Ista Weyr. The bronzes are blooding their kill. Caylith will fly soon. You’re wanted there.”
“Oh, yes, thank you, Silvina.” He blinked against the light from the glow baskets she was unshielding. “You didn’t by any chance bring me …” He saw the steaming mug by his bed. “Oh, good woman! My undying thanks!”
“That’s what you always say,” Silvina replied, chuckling as she left him to proceed with his wake-up routine.
He dressed quickly to avoid the predawn chill. Zair took his accustomed shoulder perch, squeaking softly as Robinton paced down the corridor.