A Gift of Dragons - Anne McCaffrey [69]
The hum of the dragons was intensifying. “Look!” Neru said, pointing to the nearest egg. It was rocking in its little depression of sand.
A stir in the gallery suggested that others had seen the movement. There was also a cracking sound that echoed in the vaulted Hatching Ground, and the queen swung her head to stare at the egg. It wasn’t far from Neru and Nian, and they could see the crack splitting the eggshell. They held their breaths as the crack girdled the egg and something—a wingtip, Nian thought—protruded from the shell. It split neatly in half and its occupant began to emerge. When the glistening little bronze finally exited its shell, she wondered that it had been able to cram so much body into such a small space.
“A bronze first is a good sign,” she heard H’ran murmur as applause came from the gallery.
The queen spread her wings and, lifting herself high on her powerful hindquarters, bugled a welcome to the little bronze. Several other eggs were either rocking or cracking, and Nian didn’t know where to look first.
“Nian!” Her brother’s startled cry swung her gaze back to him and he pointed to her favorite among the eggs. It was splitting along its axis, and suddenly the top half splintered into shards that were scattered all over as a moist golden head emerged. Robina was already hastening toward the little queen, though she was clutching at her stomach as she approached. It amused Nian that the snotty Robina was also subject to nausea and nervousness.
“Go after the bronze, Ru,” Nian said, pushing him toward the wandering hatchling.
“He knows where he’s going,” Ru said, pointing, and it became obvious to Nian that the hatchling was heading as straight as an arrow toward a tall boy who had sat next to Ru at breakfast.
Greens and blues were now making their choices among the candidates, and weyrfolk were handing out bowls of food, instructing the newly Impressed on how to feed the starving hatchlings.
I’m hungry! Very hungry, a voice said clearly in Nian’s head. But she paid no attention to that, since all the hatchlings around her were being fed. There were several eggs toward the back of the Hatching Ground that were rocking and splitting. She tugged on the sleeve of her brother’s tunic.
“Let’s go over there. No one else is nearby.”
He tried to struggle free. “If one of them wants me, it can find me.”
“You have got to Impress, Ru,” she said, reestablishing her hold on him and hauling him to where he stood the best chance of doing so.
“Maybe the hatchlings know I shouldn’t be here as a candidate,” was his gloomy reply.
“Nonsense!”
Suddenly, she tripped, or rather was tripped, and sprawled facedown in the hot sands, as something quite heavy seemed to be scratching its way up her exposed back.
What’s the matter with you? Can’t you hear me? the same voice said petulantly. I’m hungry. I need to be fed. Are you listening in there? Something hard tapped on her head.
“Nian, it’s the queen. That’s the queen on your back, Ni, the queen!” she heard Neru exclaim excitedly.
“But it’s you who must Impress, Neru,” she said querulously. Oh, her family would never forgive her. Ru would never forgive her.
I will forgive you, if you’ll feed me, Nian, the voice said. My name is Quinth. Why are you avoiding me? I love you. You are mine.
“Here, help me, H’ran,” the Weyrwoman said. “The poor child won’t able to get up. Quinth, now get off your rider before you flatten her.”
Nian felt the weight being lifted off her, but her nose had started to bleed and she had to spit blood out of her mouth and shake sand out of her hair. Hands under her armpits assisted her to her feet and then a bowl was thrust into her hands and she looked around and saw golden Quinth, struggling to be free of the hands that held her from going to her chosen rider.
Nian felt two distinct emotions—immense surprise and total dismay.
You don’t like me? the dragon asked, her head drooping with disappointment and her wings sagging to the sand.
It’s not a question of liking you, Quinth, Nian replied,