They showed me when. That’s all you wanted.
Jaxom felt bereft of their fragile guidance and stupid because he hadn’t insisted they stay.
There’s firestone, Ruth said. And flame scar. The bronzes did flame at the firelizards here! A long time ago. The scar is growing weed.
“Dragon against dragon!” Apprehension nagged at Jaxom. He didn’t feel safe here. He wouldn’t feel safe until they actually had that egg back in Benden where it belonged.
“We’ve got to make another jump, Ruth. We don’t dare wait here.”
Resolutely he unlooped the rope from about his waist and started making a rough sling with the fur rug. There’d be less strain on Ruth if the egg were strapped between his forelegs. Jaxom had completed the comers when he heard a loud crunching.
“Ruth! You’re not going to flame dragons!”
No, of course I’m not. But will they dare approach me if I am flaming?
Jaxom was unsettled enough not to protest. When Ruth had a gulletful, he called him over and got the sling around the egg. He looped the rope comfortably over Ruth’s shoulders to take the weight. He started to check the knots again and then, some inner caution prompting him, he just mounted.
“We’ll go five Turns more into Keroon, to our place there. Do you know when?”
Ruth thought a moment and then said he knew when.
In between Jaxom had time to worry if he was making the jumps too long to keep the egg warm. It hadn’t actually Hatched before he’d left. Maybe he should have waited, to find out if the egg had Hatched properly: then they’d’ve known how to judge the forward jumps. Maybe he’d even killed the little queen trying to save her. No, his mind reeled with between and paradoxes; the most important act, returning the queen egg, was in process. And dragon had not fought dragon-not yet.
The shimmering heat of Keroon desert warmed his failing spirit as well as his body. Ruth looked a ghastly shade under the caking black mud. Jaxom released the rope and lowered the egg to the sand. Ruth helped him cover it. It was midmorning, and not far from the hour when the egg must be back but at least six Turns in time-distance.
Ruth asked if he couldn’t wash off the mud in the sea but Jaxom told him they’d have to wait until they’d got the egg safely back. No one had known who’d done it then: no one should know, and the safest way was not to have a white hide showing.
The firelizards?
That had worried Jaxom but he thought he had the answer. “They didn’t know who brought the egg back that day. There weren’t any in the Hatching Ground, so they don’t know what they haven’t seen.” Jaxom decided not to think further on that subject.
He was very tired as he leaned back against Ruth’s warm flank. They’d rest a little while and let the egg warm up well in the midmorning sun before they’d make that last and trickiest jump. They had to position themselves to land just inside the Hatching Ground, where the arch of the entrance sloped abruptly down and obscured the view of anyone looking from the Bowl into the Ground. In fact, directly opposite the peephole and slit that F’lessan and Jaxom had used so many Turns ago. It was just luck that Ruth was small enough to risk going between inside the Ground but it’d been his own Hatching place so his feeling was innate. Thus far he’d lived up to his boast that he always knew when he was going….
Even in the hot desert plains of Keroon there was some noise: infinitesimal rustlings of insect life, hot breezes riming through dead grasses, snakes burrowing in the sand, the distant rush of water on the beach. The cessation of such sounds can be as remarkable as a thunderclap, and so it was the utter stillness and a minute change of air pressure that roused Jaxom and Ruth from somnolence to alarm.
Jaxom glanced up, expecting bronze dragons to appear and reclaim their prize. The sky above was clear and hot. Jaxom glanced around and saw the danger, the silver mist of descending Thread raining down across the desert. He slithered and scrambled to the egg. Ruth right beside him, both digging it free, pushing it into the sling, frantically trying to judge the leading edge of Fall, wondering and worrying that the skies weren’t full of fighting dragons.