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through.
Holth moved slowly until Duluth leaned toward her, touching her muzzle. That
revived the old queen. Moreta made much of her, patting her neck and murmuring
suitable reassurances and endearments as she hauled herself onto the dragon s
back.
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Now, you d best visualize Waterhole just after dusk, he said, securing his
helmet and giving it a brief rub to settle over his hair. Me and Duluth will
wait for you inbetween to help you get back here.
Moreta held the landscape firm in her mind: the way the fences came to a point
for the three fields and the hold off to the left; the way the lowering sun
had caught sparkles from the gray-blue roof slates.
Go on, Marco said, showing her both hands with his thumbs pointed up.
Let s go to Waterhole, Holth, she said, and the queen, slithering a bit in
the sand underfoot, managed a much more energetic ascent than her last two.
Black, blacker, blackest, Moreta mumbled out of habit as she felt the
dragon s body lifting.
You re ready to drop, Moreta, Marco shouted and, before she could draw
another breath, she and Holth dropped through the grayness and were out in to
fresh crisp air. Above them, Timor, the smaller moon, was just rising. A
runnerbeast was shrieking at the top of its lungs, a gray-muzzled roan animal,
his unusual markings gleaming in the moonlight. The other runners in the
paddock were galloping around him in mindless terror. With neither Marco nor
Duluth nearby, Moreta was afraid.
Holth managed a graceful glide to their destination of the intersecting fence
lines. Lights, warm and yellow from glowbaskets, were visible in the nearby
hold. Moreta heard sudden shouts of fright. All the lights went out, as the
hold door was slammed tight by whoever looked out to see why the runnerbeasts
were shrieking. She was just about to nudge Holth to walk to the hold and see
why they had been so frightened when the doorway opened again, a mere crack,
and a figure was silhouetted in the light.
Who is it? Who goes there? Moreta recognized the voice as Thaniel s.
Moreta, of course, Thaniel, she called, but he didn t seem to see her. Rusty
shrieked again and Thaniel turned toward the sound.
Stupid beast! There s no one here. He swept his hand in a wide gesture as if
he saw nothing but empty space. An empty space that Moreta was sure she
filled.
Thaniel! I m here. Can t you see me? she shouted as loud as she could,
urging Holth to move forward.
Rusty increased his complaints, racing up and down the fenced enclosure,
showing the whites of his eyes in terror.
Shut your bawling! Thaniel roared at Rusty. The riders looking for Moreta
have all gone back to their Weyrs. There s not a sign of a dragon in the sky.
Moreta was stunned. She ought to have returned earlier. If he could hear that
wretched creature, surely he could hear her shouting? She dismounted Holth
quickly and ran up to Thaniel, to stand right in front of him. In fact, when
he turned his head back in her direction, she had to take a step back or their
noses would have touched. She reached out to grab his arm, and Thaniel
immediately gave a visible shudder that ran from his dusty boots to his long
hair.
He mumbled something Moreta couldn t hear and wrapped his arms about himself.
Am I getting the plague after all? he cried out loud.
No, you old fool. I m trying to make you see me, Moreta answered. But he did
not appear to hear her, though Rusty continued bawling and wheeling around his
enclosure, stirring up the other animals. Thaniel turned abruptly, trembling,
and ran back to his hold, slamming the door firmly behind him.
Marco was right. How can I possibly communicate with him if he doesn t see or
hear me? Moreta exclaimed as she marched back to Holth, and then vaulted to
the dragon s back.
In the lights from the front window of the hold, Moreta could see that Thaniel
still had his arms crossed in front of him a recognizable stance of warding
off fear.
They don t see us, Moreta,Holth said mournfully.We went betweenbut never
arrived.
Think hard about Fort Weyr, then, Holth, and take us there. Think of the
mountain range behind the Weyr. Think of the ledge on which you have lain so
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long, protecting Leri. Think of home, Holth. Take us there.
Moreta s last sentence was a wish as well as an order. Summoning strength from
deep within, Holth leapt from the ground, her wings valiantly stroking her
body upward, and then they wentbetween . It was cold and . . . gray, but not
as bone-numbingly cold as before. And Moreta s litany did nothing to reassure
her that they would come out at sunset above Fort Weyr, with the range of
familiar mountains, the familiar bowl, and the ledges where dragons lay
basking in the sunlight.
A vast shiver caught Moreta at the back of her neck, ran down her spine and to
her toes. She leaned forward on Holth s neck, feeling the warmth of the dragon
through her gloves and the cheek she laid against a neck ridge. They remained
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| Cytat |
Dobre pomysły nie mają przeszłości, mają tylko przyszłość. Robert Mallet
De minimis - o najmniejszych rzeczach.
Dobroć jest ważniejsza niż mądrość, a uznanie tej prawdy to pierwszy krok do mądrości. Theodore Isaac Rubin
Dobro to tylko to, co szlachetne, zło to tylko to, co haniebne.
Dla człowieka nie tylko świat otaczający jest zagadką; jest on nią sam dla siebie. I z obu tajemnic bardziej dręczącą wydaje się ta druga. Antoni Kępiński (1918-1972)
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