«Don't fret so, Robinton,» N'ton said, stepping to his side and touching his arm. «You were so right and wise to speak out as you did, and probably the only one who could stop Lessa's madness. F'lar knows it.» N'ton grinned. «But he does still have to contend with Lessa.»
«Master Robinton,» F'nor's voice was low as if he didn't wish to be overheard, «please join Brekke and me in my weyr. N'ton, too, if you're not pressed to return to Fort Weyr.»
«I can certainly spare any time you need today,» the younger bronze rider replied with cheerful compliance.
«Brekke will be right along.» Then the wing second led the way across the Bowl, unnaturally silent except for the moans and mutters that issued in muffled echoes from Ramoth in the Hatching Ground. On his ledge, Mnementh swung his great head constantly so that every portion of the rim was scrutinized.
No sooner had the men entered the weyr than they were assaulted by four hysterical fire lizards that had to be petted and reassured that no dragon would flame them a fear which seemed to be common and persistent.
«What is this large darkness that I get from Zair's images?» Robinton asked when he had caressed his little bronze into a semblance of order. Zair shivered frequently and, whenever the Harper's gentle strokes lapsed, the bronze pushed imperiously at the negligent hand.
Meanwhile Berd and Grall were perched on F'nor's shoulders, stroking his cheeks, their eyes bright yellow with anxiety and still whirling at a frantic rate. «When they're calmer, Brekke and I will try to sort the whole thing out. I get the impression that they are remembering something.»
«Not something like the Red Star?» N'ton asked.
At his unfortunate reference, Tris, who had been lying quietly on his forearm, began to bat his wings and the others squealed in fright. «I'm sorry. Calm down, Tris.»
«No, not something like that,» F'nor said. «Just something something they remembered.»
«We do know that they communicate instantly with one another and apparently broadcast anything seen that is strongly felt or experienced,» Robinton said, picking his words as he vocalized his thoughts. «So this could be evidence of a mass reaction. But picked up from which fire lizard or fire lizards? However, Grail and Berd, and certainly that little creature of Meron's, could not have known through one of their own kind that the you know what was dangerous to them. So how did they know to the point of hysterics? How could it be something they remembered?»
«Runner beasts seem to know when to avoid treacherous ground» N'ton offered.
«Instinct.» Robinton pondered. «Could be instinct.» Then he shook his head. «No, avoiding treacherous ground is not the same use of an instinctive fear: that's a generality. The R E D S T A R,» he spelled letter by letter, «is a specific. Ah, well!»
«Fire lizards are basically gifted with the same skills as dragons. Dragons, however, have no memories to speak of.»
«Which, let us fervently hope,» F'nor said, raising his eyes toward the ceiling, «wipes out what happened today in record time.»
«Lessa does not suffer that gift,» Robinton said with a heavy sigh.
«She's not stupid either, Masterharper,» N'ton said, adroitly reaffirming his respect for the man by the use of his title. «Nor is F'lar. Just worried. They'll both come round and appreciate your intervention today.» Then N'ton cleared his throat and looked the Masterharper squarely in the eyes. «Do you know who took the egg?»
«I had heard that something was being planned. I knew, which would have been obvious to anyone counting Turns, that the Southern men and dragons are slowing with age, and desperate. I've had only the experience of Zair wanting to mate» Robinton paused, remembering that astounding revival of desires he had thought himself well past, shrugged and met the understanding twinkle in N'ton's eyes. «So I can appreciate the pressures that randy brown and bronze dragons can exert on their riders. Even a willing green, young enough to be flown, would help» He looked questioningly at the two dragonriders.
«Not after today,» F'nor said emphatically. «If they'd approached one of the Weyrs D'ram for instance,» he glanced at N'ton for corroboration, «perhaps a green would have gone, if only to prevent something disastrous. But to attempt to solve their problems by kidnapping a queen egg?» F'nor frowned. «How much do you know, Robinton, about what goes on down in the Southern Weyr? I know I gave you all the maps I'd made when I was timing it in the South.»
«Frankly, I know more about happenings in the Hold. I did get a message from Piemur recently that the dragonriders had been more private than is their custom. They don't mix much with holders, following the pattern of their own Time, but a certain amount of coming and going into the Weyr was permitted. That ceased abruptly and then no holders were allowed near the Weyr. Not for any reason. Nor was there much flying done. Piemur says the dragons would be seen midair and then they'd pop between. No circling, no cruising. Just going between.»
«Timing it,» F'nor said thoughtfully.
Zair squeaked piteously and Robinton soothed him. Again the fire lizard inserted in his mind the image of dragons flaming fire lizards: the black nothingness, and a glimpse of an egg.
«Did you both get that picture, too, from your friends?» he asked though their startled expression made the question unnecessary.
Robinton pressed Zair for a clearer image, a view of where the egg was, and received nothing but the impression of flame and fear.
«I wish they'd a bit more sense,» Robinton said, forcing down his irritation. Tantalizing to be so close, thwarted by the limited scope of fire lizard vision.
«They're still upset,» F'nor said. «I'll try, with Grall and Berd later on. I wonder if Menolly's getting the same reaction from hers. You might ask her when you've got back to the Harpercrafthall, Master Robinton. With ten, she might get that much more clarity.»
Robinton agreed as he rose, but thought of one last thing. «N'ton, weren't you among the bronzes who went to Southern Weyr, to see if the egg had been taken there?»
«I was. The Weyr was deserted. Not even an old dragon left behind. Completely deserted.»
«Yes, that would follow, wouldn't it?»
When Jaxom and Menolly, on Ruth, entered the air above Fort Hold, Ruth called his name to the watch dragon and was almost smothered by fire lizards. They so impeded his progress that he dropped a few lengths before he could get them to give him wing room. The moment he landed, the fire lizards swarmed over him and his riders, keening with anxiety.
Menolly called out reassurances as fire lizards clung to her clothing, got tangled in her hair. Jaxom found two trying to sit on his head, several had tails wrapped around his neck and three were beating their wings frantically to remain at eye level with him.
«What's got into them?»
«They're terrified! Dragons breathing fire at them,» Menolly cried. «But no one's doing that to you, you silly chinches. You only have to stay away from the Weyrs for a bit.»
Other harpers, attracted by the commotion, came to their rescue, either taking the fire lizards bodily from Jaxom and Menolly, or sternly recalling the ones that looked to them personally. When Jaxom started to shoo them away from Ruth, the dragon told him not to bother he, Ruth, would calm them down himself shortly. They were frightened because they remembered being chased by dragon fire. Since the harpers were all now clamoring for news from Benden, Jaxom decided to let Ruth handle the fire lizards.
The Harpers had received some pretty distorted images from the fire lizards returning, terrified, to the Harpercrafthall: Benden full of immense bronze dragons, breathing fire, ready to fight; Ramoth acting like a blood maddened watchwher, and curious images of the queen egg solitary in the sand. But what made the Harpers extremely apprehensive was the vision of dragons flaming at fire lizards.
«Benden dragons did not flame any fire lizards,» Jaxom and Menolly both said.
«But all the fire lizards must stay away from Benden unless they're sent to either Brekke or Mirrim,» Menolly added firmly. «And we're to mark all those that look to harpers with harper colors.»
Jaxom and Menolly were ushered into the Harper hall and given wine and hot soup. Neither of them got to eat it hot because no sooner were they served than some of the Hold people arrived, soliciting the news. Menolly recounted the major portion of the happening, being the trained Harper. Jaxom's respect for the girl increased greatly as he listened to her flowing voice evoke the emotions appropriate to each part of her narrative, without distorting what he knew to have happened. One of the senior Harpers, soothing the blue fire lizard in the crook of his arm, kept nodding his head as if approving her use of Harper tricks.
When Menolly stopped speaking, a respectful murmur of thanks was heard throughout the room. Then the listeners became the speakers, dissecting the news, wondering who had returned the egg and how and why, which Was still the biggest question. How were the Weyrs going to protect themselves? Were the main Holds in any danger? Who knew to what lengths the Oldtimers might go if they'd steal a Benden egg. Now, there'd been some mysterious occurrences insignificant in themselves but in total highly suspicious which the Harpers felt ought to be reported to Benden Weyr. Those mysterious shortages at the iron mines, for instance. And what about those young girls who were carried off and no one could trace where? Could the Oldtimers be looking for more than dragon eggs?
Menolly eased her way out of the center of the audience and beckoned Jaxom to follow her. «I'm talked dry,» she said with a heavy sigh and led him down the corridor to the huge copyroom where moldy Records were transcribed before their messages were lost forever. Her lizards suddenly appeared and she signaled them to land on one of the tables. «You lot are about to wear the very latest design for fire lizards!» She rummaged in the cabinet under the table. «Help me find white and yellow, Jaxom. This can is dried up.» She chucked it into a bin in the corner. «And what is your design for fire lizards?»
«Hmmmm. Here's white. Harper blue with journeyman light blue, separated by white and framed by Fort Hold lattice yellow. That ought to label them accurately, don't you think?»
Jaxom agreed and found himself required to hold fire lizard necks still. This assignment was rendered all the more difficult because the fire lizards seemed to want to look him straight in the eye.
«If they're trying to tell me something, I'm not getting the message,» Jaxom told Menolly as he patiently endured the fifth soulful scrutiny.
«I suspect,» Menolly said, speaking in disjointed phrases as she carefully applied her root colors, «what you've got hold him still, Jaxom is the onlydragon on Pern that they're not hold him scared silly of right now. Ruth doesn't after all chew firestone.»
Jaxom sighed because he could see that Ruth's sudden popularity was going to ruin his private plans. Much as he was loath to do so, he was going to have to time it because if the fire lizards didn't know when they went they couldn't follow him! That reminded him of his original errand to the Harpercrafthall.
«I started out this morning to get Wansor's equations from you.»
«Hmmm, yes.» Menolly grinned at him over a squirming blue fire lizard. «That seems like Turns ago. Well, we'll just patch the white on Uncle, and I'll give 'em to you. I've also got some winter summer season charts you might as well have, seeing as you've been so cooperative. Piemur hasn't written out many yet.»
A blue fire lizard came zipping into the paint room, chirping with relief when it saw Jaxom.
It is the thick man's blue, Ruth said from outside.
«I've only the one blue fire lizard and we just did him, didn't we?» Menolly asked in surprise, glancing about the room at the others.
«It's Brand's. I'd better get back to Ruatha Hold. I should've gone back hours ago.»
«Well, don't be a fool and meet yourself coming,» she said with a laugh. «You've been on legitimate business this time.»
Managing a light laugh, Jaxom caught the roll of charts she threw in his direction. She couldn't know what he had in mind. He was entirely too sensitive to her random remarks. Sign of a guilty conscience. «Then you'll alibi me to Lytol?»
«Anytime, Jaxom!»
Back at Ruatha Hold, he had the whole tale to tell again with an audience as rapt, astonished, angered and relieved as the harpers and the Fort Holders. He found himself unconsciously using Menolly's turns of phrase and he wondered how long before she'd make a Ballad of the event.
He finished by directing everyone owning a fire lizard to band the creature with Ruatha colors: brown with red squares, banded by white and black. He got that task organized when he noticed that Lytol was still seated in his heavy chair, one hand playing with the corner of his lower lip, his eyes fixed on some indistinct point on the flagstones.
«Lytol?»
The Lord Warder recalled himself to the present with an effort and frowned at Jaxom. Then he sighed. «I've always feared that the conflict might come to dragon against dragon.»
«It's not come to that, Lytol,» Jaxom said quietly and as persuasively as he could.
The man looked intently into Jaxom's eyes. «It could, lad. It so easily could. And I, and you, owe so much to Benden. Should I go there now?»
«Finder remained.»
Lytol nodded and Jaxom wondered if the Lord Warder felt he'd been slighted. «Better for Finder to travel on dragonback.» He passed his hand over his eyes and shook his head.
«You're not well, Lytol. A cup of wine?»
«No, I'll be all right, lad.» Lytol pushed himself vigorously to his feet. «I don't suppose in all the fuss that you remembered what you went to the Harpercrafthall for?»
Much relieved to hear Lytol sound like himself, Jaxom lightly announced that he had not only Wansor's equations but some charts to work with. From then until the evening meal, Jaxom wished he'd not been so thoughtful because Lytol had him instructing Brand and himself in accurately timing Threadfall.
Teaching someone else a method is a very good way to make it easier to do yourself, as Jaxom found later that night when he worked some private equations of his own, poring over the rough map he had of the Southern Continent. There was too much activity all over Pern for him to go to an alternate «when» with any safety. And since he was going to time it, he might just as well go back at least twelve Turns, before anyone had started using the Southern Continent at all. He knew just where firestone could be mined so there'd be no problem supplying Ruth. The night stars were halfway to morning before he felt he could find his way to the then he wanted to find.
Just before daybreak, he was awakened by the sound of Ruth's whimpering. He struggled from his furs and stumbled barefoot on the cold stones, blinking sleep from his eyes. Ruth's forelegs were churning and his wing elbows twitched with whatever dream disturbed him. Fire lizards burrowed about him; most of them did not wear Ruathan colors. He shooed the creatures away and Ruth, sighing, dropped into a deeper, quiet sleep.
CHAPTER VI
Ruatha Hold and Southern Hold, 15.5.27 15.6.2
THE HOLD DAY began by sending out fire lizards with messages to all the smaller holds and craftcottages, ordering that every fire lizard be appropriately marked and individually warned about approaching any Weyr. Some of the nearby holders had ridden in during the morning for reassurances about the garbled accounts the fire lizards had given. So Lytol, Jaxom and Brand were kept busy all day. The next day, Thread was due to fall, and it fell at precisely the moment Lytol had calculated. This gave him great pleasure and reassured the more nervous holders.
Jaxom good naturedly took his place with the flamethrower crew, not that any Thread escaped the Fort Weyr dragons. It amused Jaxom to think that at the next Threadfall, he too might be above ground on a fire breathing Ruth.
The third day after the egg was stolen, Ruth was famished and wanted to hunt. But the fire lizards came in such droves to accompany him that he killed only once and ate the beast up, bones and hide.
I will not kill for them, Ruth told Jaxom so fiercely that he wondered if Ruth might eventually flame the fire lizards.
«What's the matter? I thought you liked them!»
Jaxom met his dragon on the grassy slope and caressed him soothingly.
They remember me doing something I do not remember doing. I did not do it. Ruth's eyes whirled with red sparks.
«What do they remember you doing?»
I haven't done it. And there was a tinge of fearful uncertainty to Ruth's mental tone. I know I haven't done it. I couldn't do such a thing. I am a dragon. I am Ruth. I am of Benden! His last words sounded in a despairing tone.
«What do they remember you doing, Ruth? You've got to tell me.»
Ruth ducked his head, as if he wished he could hide, but he turned back to Jaxom, his eyes wheeling piteously. I wouldn't take Ramoth's egg. 1 know I didn't take Ramoth's egg. I was there by the lake all the time with you. I remember that. You remember that. They know where I was. But somehow they remember that I took Ramoth's egg too.
Jaxom clung to Ruth's neck to keep from falling. Then he took several very deep breaths.
«Show me the images they've been giving you, Ruth!»
And Ruth did, the projections growing more clear and vivid as Ruth calmed in response to his rider's encouragement.
That's what they remember, he said finally with a deep sigh of relief.
Jaxom told himself to think logically so he said out loud, «Fire lizards can only tell what they've seen. You say they remember. Do you know when they remember seeing you take Ramoth's egg?»
I could take you to that when.
«Are you sure?»
There are two queens they've bothered me most because they remember best.
«They wouldn't just happen to remember it at night, when the stars are out, would they?»
Ruth shook his head. Fire lizards are not big enough to see enough stars. And that's when they got flamed. The bronzes who guard the egg chew firestone. They don't want any fire lizards near.
«That's smart of them.»
None of the dragons like fire lizards anymore. And if they knew what the fire lizards remember about me, they won't like me, either.
«Then it's just as well that you're the only dragon who'll listen to fire lizards, isn't it?» That observation wasn't much comfort to either Ruth or Jaxom. «But why, if the egg is already back in Benden Weyr, are the fire lizards bothering you about it?»
Because they don't remember me going yet.
Jaxom felt he'd better sit down. This last statement would take a lot of thinking. No, he contradicted himself. F'lessan had been right. We think and talk things to death. He wondered briefly if Lessa and F'nor had been seized by this same sort of irrational compulsion at the moment of their decisions. He decided he'd better not think about that either.
«You're sure you know when we have to go?» he asked Ruth once more.
Two queens flitted up, crooning lovingly: one even bold enough to light on Jaxom's arm, her eyes wheeling with joy.
They know. I know.
«Well, I'm glad they're willing to take us. I sure wish they'd seen stars!»
Jaxom permitted himself one more deep breath and then he swung to Ruth's neck and told him to take them home.
Once he'd made his decision to act, it was amazing how easy it was to go ahead, just as long as he didn't think about it. He assembled his flying gear, the rope, a fur robe to cover the egg. He gobbled down some meatrolls, casually winked at Brand as he sauntered out of the Hall, overwhelmingly glad that he had a handy excuse in his suspected affair with Corana.
It took longer to persuade Ruth to roll in the black tidal mud of the Telgar River delta, but Jaxom managed to persuade his weyrmate that a white hide was remarkably visible against the black tropical night or in full daylight inside the Hatching Ground where he planned for them to stay in the shadows.
From the images given Ruth by the two queens, Jaxom felt he could safely assume that the Oldtimers had taken the egg back in time but lodged it in the most logical and fitting spot for an egg, in the warm sands of the old volcano that would eventually become Southern Weyr in the appropriate time. He had already memorized the positions of Southern night stars so he'd probably be able to tell when he was, within a Turn or two. He'd have to count heavily on Ruth's boast that he always knew when he was.
The fire lizards arrived in full fair at the delta and enthusiastically helped him sully Ruth's white coat with the clinging black mud. Jaxom dabbed it on his hands and face, and the shiny parts of his accoutrements. The fur robe was already dark enough.
Somehow Jaxom wasn't quite sure that all this was happening to him, that he could be mixed up in such a wild venture. But he had to be. He was moving in inexorable steps toward a predestined event and nothing could stop him now. So he mounted Ruth calmly, trusting as he had never done before in his dragon's abilities. Jaxom took two deep breaths. «You know when, Ruth. We'd better get there!»
It was without doubt the longest, coldest jump he had ever made. He had one advantage over Lessa, he expected it. But that didn't keep the jump from being frighteningly dark, or relieve a silence that was a noisy pressure in his ears, or keep the cold from striking his bones. He couldn't come straight back with the egg; he'd have to take several steps to warm it.
Then they were above a darkened moist warm world that smelled of lush greenery and slightly decaying fruit. For a moment Jaxom had the hideous feeling that this was all a sun dream of the fire lizards. But something in the eerie way that Ruth glided as noiselessly as possible, a part of the gentle night breeze, made it real and immediate. Then he saw the egg below, a luminescent spot slightly to the right of Ruth's searching head.
Jaxom let him glide a little farther to catch a glimpse of the Weyr's eastern edge, the point from which he wanted to enter at all possible speed, at early dawn. Then he told Ruth to change and there seemed to be no time spent between. All at once the rising sun was warm on their backs. Ruth arrowed in, winging low and fast, over the backs of the drowsy bronzes and their napping riders. A quick deft swoop, Ruth grabbing the egg in his sturdy forearms, a lunge up and, before the startled bronzes could rise to their feet, the little white dragon had enough free air to go between again.
Ruth was still only a winglength above the Weyr when they came out of between, a Turn in time ahead of Ruth's sunrise plunge.
Ruth had just enough strength left in his forearms and wings to let the egg down carefully into the warm sands. Jaxom dropped from the dragon's neck to check the egg for any cracks, but it looked all right. Certainly it was hard enough and still warm. With his gloved hands, he shoveled sun hot sand over the egg and then, like Ruth, collapsed to catch his breath.
«We can't stay long. They might just try it day by day. They'd know we can't take the egg far at once.»
Ruth nodded, his breath still coming in ragged gasps. Then he stopped, taut until Jaxom started with alarm. Two fire lizards, a gold and a bronze, were watching them from the edge of the Weyr. In the brief glimpse Jaxom had of them before they winked out, he saw no colored bands about they necks.
«Do we know them?»
No.
«Where're those two queens?»
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 fire lizards 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 fire lizards?
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.
As fast as they worked to secure the precious burden to Ruth for flight, they were not quite quick enough. The leading edge of Threadfall fell hissing to the sand around them as Jaxom got to Ruth's neck and directed him upward. Ruth, giving a belch of flame, vaulted skyward, trying to sear a path far enough above the ground to go between.
A ribbon of fire sliced Jaxom's cheek, his right shoulder through the wherhide tunic, his forearm, his thigh. He felt, rather than heard, Ruth's bellow of pain, lost in the black of between.
Somehow Jaxom kept his mind on where and when they should be. They were finally in the Hatching Ground, Ramoth bellowing outside. Ruth could not quite suppress his cry as the hot sand rubbed the raw Threadscore on his hind foot. Jaxom bit his lips against his pain as he struggled with the rope. There was so little time and it seemed to take ages to release the sling. Ruth lowered the egg to the sand but it rolled down the slight incline from their shadowy corner of the Ground. They couldn't wait. Ruth sprang up toward the high ceiling and went between.
Dragon would not now fight dragon!
It was no surprise to Jaxom that Ruth came out of between above the little mountain lake. In what relative when, Jaxom was too concerned for his dragon to care at that moment. Ruth was whimpering with the pain in his foot and leg; all he wanted was to cool that Threadfire. Jaxom leaped from his neck to the shallows and splashed water on the sweaty gray hide, cursing himself that the nearest numbweed was at Ruatha Hold. He was so clever, he was, that he never thought one of them might get hurt.