The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [160]
Doubt and wonder reached F’nor, and then he understood the tiny one’s problem.
“I’m not of your blood. The monster above us is,” F’nor communicated softly. “You are of his blood.”
Again the tiny head cocked. The eyes glistened actively as they whirled with surprise and increased doubt.
To Canth, F’nor remarked that perspective was impossible for the little dragon, one hundredth his size.
Move back then, Canth suggested. Little sister, go with the man.
The little dragon flew up on blurringly active wings, hovering as F’nor slowly rose. He walked several lengths from Canth’s recumbent hulk, the little dragon following. When F’nor turned and slowly pointed back to the brown, the little beast circled, took one look and abruptly disappeared.
“Come back,” F’nor cried. Maybe he was dreaming.
Canth rumbled with amusement. How would you like to see a man as large to you as I am to her?
“Canth, do you realize that that was a fire lizard?”
Certainly.
“I actually had a fire lizard on my arm! Do you realize how many times people have tried to catch one of those creatures?” F’nor stopped, savoring the experience. He was probably the first man to get that close to a fire lizard. And the dainty little beauty had registered emotion, understood simple directions and then—gone between.
Yes, she went between, Canth confirmed, unmoved.
“Why, you big lump of sand, do you realize what that means? Those legends are true. You were bred from something as small as her!”
I don’t remember, Canth replied, but something in his tone made F’nor realize that the big beast’s draconic complacency was a little shaken.
F’nor grinned and stroked Canth’s muzzle affectionately. “How could you, big one? When we—men—have lost so much knowledge and we can record what we know.”
There are other ways of remembering important matters, Canth replied.
“Just imagine being able to breed tiny fire lizards into a creature the size of you!” He was awed, knowing how long it had taken to breed faster landbeasts.
Canth rumbled restlessly. I am useful. She is not.
“I’d wager she’d improve rapidly with a little help.” The prospect fascinated F’nor. “Would you mind?”
Why?
F’nor leaned against the great wedge-shaped head, looping his arm under the jaw, as far as he could reach, feeling extremely fond and proud of his dragon.
“No, that was a stupid question for me to ask you, Canth, wasn’t it?”
Yes.
“I wonder how long it would take me to train her.”
To do what?
“Nothing you can’t do better, of course. No, now wait a minute. If, by chance, I could train her to take messages . . . You said she went between? I wonder if she could be taught to go between, alone, and come back. Ah, but will she come back here to us now?” At this juncture, F’nor’s enthusiasm for the project was deflated by harsh reality.
She comes, Canth said very softly.
“Where?”
Above your head
Very slowly, F’nor raised one arm, hand outstretched, palm down.
“Little beauty, come where we can admire you. We mean you no harm.” F’nor saturated his mental tone with all the reassuring persuasiveness at his command.
A shimmer of gold flickered at the corner of his eye. Then the little lizard hovered at F’nor’s eye level, just beyond his reach. He ignored Canth’s amusement that the tiny one was susceptible to flattery.
She is hungry, the big dragon said.
Very slowly F’nor reached into his pouch and drew out a meatroll. He broke off a piece, bent slowly to lay it on the rock at his feet, then backed away.
“That is food for you, little one”
The lizard continued to hover, then darted down and, grabbing the meat in her tiny claws, disappeared again.
F’nor squatted down to wait.
In a second, the dragonette returned, ravenous hunger foremost in her delicate thoughts along with a wistful plea. As F’nor broke off another portion, he tried to dampen his elation. If hunger could be the leash . . . Patiently he fed her tiny bits, each time placing the food nearer to him until he got her to take the final morsel from his fingers.