The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [56]
Her heart in her mouth at the prodigious flight, Lessa felt her soul lifting with Ramoth.
“Stay with her,” F’nor whispered urgently. “Stay with her. She must not escape your control now.”
He stepped away from Lessa, back among the folk of the Weyr, who, as one, turned their eyes skyward to the disappearing shining motes of the dragons.
Lessa, her mind curiously suspended, retained only enough physical consciousness to realize that she was in fact earthbound.
All other sense and feeling were aloft with Ramoth. And she, Ramoth-Lessa, was alive with limitless power, her wings beating effortlessly to the thin heights, elation surging through her frame, elation and—desire.
She sensed rather than saw the great bronze males pursuing her. She was contemptuous of their ineffectual efforts. For she was wingfree and unconquerable.
She snaked her head under one wing and mocked their puny efforts with shrill taunts. High above them she soared. Suddenly, folding her wings, she plummeted down, delighting to see them veer off in wingcrowding haste to avoid collision.
She soared quickly above them again as they labored to make up their lost speed and altitude.
So Ramoth flirted leisurely with her lovers, splendid in her newfound freedom, daring the bronze ones to outfly her.
One dropped, spent. She crowed her superiority. Soon a second abandoned the chase as she played with them, diving and darting in intricate patterns. Sometimes she was oblivious of their existence, so lost was she in the thrill of flight.
When, at last, a little bored, she condescended to glance at her followers, she was vaguely amused to see only three great beasts still pursuing. She recognized Mnementh, Orth, and Hath. All in their prime; worthy, perhaps, of her.
She glided down, tantalizing them, amused at their now labored flights. Hath she couldn’t bear. Orth? Now Orth was a fine young beast. She dropped her wings to slide between him and Mnementh.
As she swung past Mnementh, he suddenly closed his wings and dropped beside her. Startled, she tried to hover and found her wings fouled with his, his neck winding tightly about hers.
Entwined, they fell. Mnementh, calling on hidden reserves of strength, spread his wings to check their downward fall. Outmaneuvered and startled by the terrific speed of their descent, Ramoth, too, extended her great wings. And then . . .
Lessa reeled, her hands wildly grabbing out for any support. She seemed to be exploding back into her body, every nerve throbbing.
“Don’t faint, you fool. Stay with her.” F’lar’s voice grated in her ear. His arms roughly sustained her.
She tried to focus her eyes. She caught a startled glimpse of the walls of her own weyr. She clutched at F’lar, touching bare skin, shaking her head, confused.
“Bring her back.”
“How?” she cried, panting, unable to comprehend what could possibly entice Ramoth from such glory.
The pain of stinging blows on her face made her angrily aware of F’lar’s disturbing proximity. His eyes were wild, his mouth distorted.
“Think with her. She cannot go between. Stay with her.”
Trembling at the thought of losing Ramoth between, Lessa sought the dragon, still locked wing to wing with Mnementh.
The mating passion of the two dragons at that moment spiraled wide to include Lessa. A tidal wave rising relentlessly from the sea of her soul flooded Lessa. With a longing cry she clung to F’lar. She felt his body rock-firm against hers, his hard arms lifting her up, his mouth fastening mercilessly on hers as she drowned deep in another unexpected flood of desire.
“Now! We bring them safely home,” he murmured.
Dragonman, dragonman,
Between thee and thine,
Share me that glimpse of love
Greater than mine.
F’lar came suddenly awake. He listened attentively, heard and was reassured by Mnementh’s gratified rumble. The bronze was perched on the ledge outside the queen’s weyr.