A Gift of Dragons - Anne McCaffrey [72]
I am sorry, dearling, Nian said as contritely as she could, holding out another handful of meat. I simply never thought that I’d Impress a dragon.
“Well, we’re all here now, and together,” Nian said, “and Larinth looks like a fine fellow.”
Thank you, Larinth said, his eyes glowing as he regarded Nian and Quinth intently.
Beside her, Quinth said quite distinctly, You’re welcome. Obviously, she didn’t like Nian to have much to do with Larinth. But then that’s what H’ran had said about newly Impressed dragons. They were jealous of their new partners.
“Let us help you toward the barracks then, Nian and Neru, and settle your dragons,” the Weyrwoman suggested.
“No more staggering into me either, please, Quinth,” Nian said, passing her the last of the food in this latest bowl. “Can she have more?” she queried the Weyrwoman dubiously.
“She’ll probably need it,” the Weyrwoman said. “After all, it’s a long walk for a newly hatched dragonet.”
Somehow, Nian did not think she had fooled the Weyrwoman with her desperate ploy but Neru had Impressed a bronze and that was justification enough. Sometimes things just needed a little push to come right.
One small detail, Quinth said in a firm mental tone, I am your dragon. And Larinth is your brother’s. Let us keep that in order.
Of course, dear Quinth, of course. I am all yours.
Yes, you are, and Quinth moved as close to Nian as she could.
“Hey, watch it, Quinth, you can’t sit on my lap, you know,” Nian spoke out loud to her dragon. “I’ve already got a bloody nose and sore ribs from you knocking me about. Can we please make it back to our weyr in an orderly fashion?” And a gentle note crept into Nian’s voice that took the sting out of her words.
Of course, Quinth replied in a suspiciously demure tone. As they passed H’ran, he put yet another bowl of meat cubes into Nian’s hand and gave her the barest smile and a wink that Nian decided to ignore. After all, her plan had worked.
Just then, Conna came forward to congratulate Nian. She saw Neru with Larinth and raised her shoulders in a shrug. Nian held her breath. Would Conna tell the Weyrwoman that her twin’s candidacy was dubious? At last Conna’s eyes met hers. The green rider merely grinned.
“It is always what the hatchling decides, my dear,” she said kindly. “And I’m very pleased for all your sakes.”
Nian leaned weakly against her queen for support. And Quinth graciously supported her. She kept a hand on her dragon’s neck as they proceeded on their way to the weyrling barracks.
Halfway across the Hatching Ground, they saw Robina patiently feeding the little green dragon that had pursued her half across the Bowl to succeed in making Impression. Robina’s expression was that of a love-struck young woman, and her little green dragon looked ecstatic.
“Well,” H’ran said, “I think those two are well suited. And our little queen has done the best for herself. Now I must busy myself to ensure that all my new weyrlings are securely settled in their weyrs; they’ll need to sleep. Follow me as you will, young dragonriders. Or should I say follow me, Nian, rider of golden Quinth and, N’ru, rider of bronze Larinth?” H’ran’s kindly tone was not lost on the twins and they smiled in unison at the man who would teach them all they’d need to know about dragons. Neru stood all the taller when he heard the Weyrlingmaster use his newly contracted name, the sign to all on Pern that he was, indeed, a dragonrider.
As Nian and Neru walked together off the hot sands and toward the weyrs, each closely escorting their dragons, they saw the crowd who had witnessed their Impressions slowly take their leave of the gallery around Ista Weyr’s Hatching Ground. Life was returning to normal for those spectators, but it had just begun for Nian and Neru. A pensive air settled over the twins as they