“No, to be serious, R’mart, you may be quite correct,” F’lar said, leaning forward across the table. “And we really don’t know if the eruption made the ancients leave the Plateau immediately afterward.”
“We won’t know anything until we’ve entered one of those mounds and discovered what they left behind, if anything,” N’ton said.
“Go carefully, Weyrleader,” Master Nicat told N’ton, but his glance took in everyone. “Better still, I’ll send a craftmaster and a few steady journeymen to direct the excavations.”
“Show the tricks of your craft, eh. Master Nicat,” R’mart said. “We’d better learn a thing or two about mining, right, Masterminer?”
Jaxom stifled a chuckle at the expression of puzzlement and then indignation on the Masterminer’s face.
“Dragonriders mining?”
“Why not?” F’lar asked. “Thread will Pass. There’ll be another Interval on us all too soon. I promise you one thing, with the Southern lands open, never again will the Weyrs be beholden to anyone during an Interval.”
“Ah, yes, a very sound idea, Weyrleader, very sound,” Master Nicat prudently agreed, though he would plainly need time to assimilate such a revolutionary idea.
The dragons lounging on the shore crooned a welcome to someone,.
N’ton suddenly rose. “I must join Wansor in our star-watch. That must be Path and Mirrim returning. My duty to you all.”
“I’ll light your way, N’ton,” Jaxom said, grabbing a glow basket and unshielding it.
They were well out of hearing range of the others when N’ton turned to Jaxom. “This is more to your fancy, isn’t it, Jaxom, than flying tamely in the queens’ wing?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose, N’ton,” Jaxom said with a laugh. “I just wanted to see the mountain before anyone else did.”
“No hunch this time?”
“Hunch?”
N’ton threw a companionable arm about his shoulders, chuckling. “No, I suppose it was inspired by the firelizards’ images.”
“The mountain?”
N’ton gave him a bit of a shake. “Good man!”
They saw the dark bulk of a dragon settling to the beach and then two gleaming circles as Lioth turned his head toward them.
“A white dragon has an advantage at night,” N’ton said as he pointed to the visible hide of Ruth a little to one side of his bronze.
I’m glad you’ve come. I’ve an itch I cannot reach, said Ruth.
“He’s in need of attention, N’ton.”
“Leave the glows with me then, I’ll pass them on to Mirrim so she can find her way to the point.”
They separated as Jaxom moved aside to attend to Ruth. He heard N’ton greet Mirrim, their voices carrying on the quiet night air.
“Of course, Wansor’s all right,” Mirrim said, sounding peevish. “He’s got his eyes glued to that tube of his. He never knew I came, never ate the food I brought, never knew I left. And further,” she paused, taking a deep breath, “Path did not scare away the Southern firelizards.”
“Why would she?”
“I’m not allowed to be on the Plateau when Jaxom and the others try to coax some sense out of the Southerners.”
“Sense? Oh, yes, seeing if Ruth can focus the firelizards’ images. Well, I shouldn’t worry about it, Mirrim. There are so many other things you can do.”
“At least my dragon is not an unsexed runt, good for nothing but consorting with firelizards!”
“Mirrim!”
Jaxom heard the coldness in N’ton’s voice; it matched the sudden freezing in his own guts. Mirrim’s petulant comment resounded over and over in his ears.
“You know what I mean, N’ton …”
Just like Mirrim, Jaxom thought, not to heed the warning in N’ton’s voice.
“You ought to,” she went on with the impetus of grievance. “Wasn’t it you who told F’nor and Brekke that you doubted if Ruth would ever mate? Where are you going, N’ton? I thought you were going …”
“You don’t think, Mirrim!”
“What’s the matter, N’ton?” The sudden panic in her voice afforded Jaxom some consolation.
Don’t stop, Ruth said. The itch is still there.
“Jaxom?” N’ton’s call was not loud, meant to reassure, but the sound carried back.
“Jaxom?” Mirrim cried. “Oh, no!” Then Jaxom heard her running away, saw the glow basket jolting, heard her weeping. Just like the girl, speak first, think later and weep for days. She’d be repentant and hanging on about him, driving him between with her need to be forgiven her thoughtlessness.