“Jaxom!” Piemur shook him awake. “You’re dreaming! You’ll wake Sharra.” Piemur paused, and in the dim twilight of predawn, the sound of Sharra’s moaning was clearly audible. “Maybe I should. She sounds like she’s having a bad dream, too.”
Piemur started to crawl out of his sleeping furs when they heard Sharra sigh deeply, and fall into a quieter sleep.
“I shouldn’t have talked about that volcano. I relived that eruption. At least, I think that’s what I was dreaming.” Piemur sounded confused. “Probably too much fish and fruit! I made up for lost meals tonight.” He sighed and made himself comfortable again.
“Thanks, Piemur!”
“For what?” Piemur asked in the middle of a yawn.
Jaxom turned over, found a good position and dropped easily back into a dreamless sleep.
Ruth’s bugle woke all three the next morning.
“F’nor’s coming,” Jaxom said, having heard Ruth’s message.
F’nor brings others, Ruth added.
Jaxom, Sharra and Piemur had reached the cove when four dragons erupted into the air, the other three dwarfed by brown Canth. Shrieking in surprise, the firelizards who had been draped about Ruth abruptly disappeared, leaving only Meer, Talla and Farli.
It is Piemur, Jaxom heard Ruth tell Canth. And then F’nor began to wave wildly, clasping two hands above his head in a signal of victory.
Canth deposited his rider on the sand. Roaring a command at the other dragons, he waddled happily into the water where Ruth was quick to join him.
“Well met, Piemur,” F’nor cried, unloosening his flying gear as he walked toward the others. “Began to wonder if you’d gotten lost!”
“Lost?” Piemur looked outraged. “That’s the trouble with you dragonfliers. You’ve no respect for ground distances! You’ve got it too easy. Up, up and away! Wink out and you’re where you want to be. No effort at all involved.” He made a sound of disgust in his throat. “Now I know where I’ve been, every bloody finger’s length of it!”
F’nor grinned at the young harper and pummeled his back with such vigor Jaxom was surprised to see Piemur unmoved. “You’ll amuse your Master then, with the full and properly embroidered tale of your travels…”
“You’re to bring me to Master Robinton?”
“Not yet. He’s coming to you!” F’nor pointed to the ground.
“What?”
F’nor was searching in his belt pouch and brought out a folded leaf. “This is my reason for coming today! And don’t let me forget the firelizard eggs, will you?”
“What’s that?” Jaxom, Sharra and Piemur clustered close about the brown rider as he made a show of unfolding the sheet.
“This … is a hall for the Master Harper, to be built in this cove!”
“Here?” the three demanded in chorus.
“How’ll he get here?” Jaxom asked. “He surely wouldn’t be allowed to fly between.” He couldn’t help the edge of resentment in his voice. F’nor cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Master Idarolan has put his fastest, largest vessel at the Master Harper’s disposal. Menolly and Brekke are accompanying him. On a sea voyage there is nothing that can disturb or worry the Harper.”
“He gets seasick,” remarked Jaxom.
“Only in small boats.” F’nor looked at them with a very solemn expression. “So. We’ll set to work at once. I’ve brought tools and extra help,” and he gestured toward the three Weyrlings who had joined them. “We’ll enlarge that shelter to a proper small hold,” he said as he glanced down at the leaf. “I’ll want every bit of that underbrush cleared off . ..”
“Then you’ll fry the Harper in the sun which is unpleasant,” Sharra pointed out.
“I beg your pardon …”
Sharra took the leaf from him, frowning critically at it. “Small hold? This is a bloody hall,” she said, “and not the least bit suitable to this continent. Furthermore,” and she dropped to the sand, picking up a long shell fragment with which she began another sketch. “First, I wouldn’t build where the old shelter is-too close to the cove in rough seas and they have them here. There’s a rise … with mature fruit trees screening it, over there …” She pointed to the east of the shelter.
“Mature trees? For Thread to eat?”