another clutch!>> Arienth intruded on
her mind, and Philaea pushed her away.
>>No!<< She said firmly. >>I have
failed.<<
With eyes blinded by tears and a mind
bent by sorrow, Philaea ran from the
hatching grounds and to the courtyard
beyond. She was not paying attention in
her pain, and she ran right into the
bronzerider who stood outside the
entrance. He caught her, and shook her,
snapping her out of her daze.
“You are Philaea, the one who can speak
to dragons?” He asked, and Liae nodded
mutely. “Good. Come, we shall leave for
Talor Cliff Weyr immediately.”
Philaea’s mind was in such turmoil, that
she could not understand what the rider
meant. It was his dragon who answered
her question.
<<Philaea, there is a clutch at Talor Cliff
which needs your attention. You would
make a wonderful candidate. Please
come. I am bronze Flurath, and my rider
is Br’jon.>>
So distressed was Philaea, that she lashed
out at the bronze who was only trying to
help. >>What do you know? They all
said I would impress. They promised!
And the queen turned and left me!<<
<<You must come,>> the bronze
replied. <<We need you. You need to
go. Never can you be happy until you
succeed.>> Even as he said it, Philaea
knew it was true.
“Alright.” She said, pulling away from the
bronzerider. “I’ll come.”
“There we go!” He said with a grin. “I’ll
tell the Weyrwoman, and you can get your
belongings.”
“Don’t bother.” Philaea said, placing a
hand in front of him to stop his pursuit.
“I will tell her.” She turned her back, and
walked up into her room. She stood in
the center of it, staring around, and trying
to decide what to bring. “Only the
clothes on my back,” she muttered to
herself, and changed into the outfit she
had worn earlier. She also picked up her
nightgown, and candidate’s robe. She
glanced around the room one last time.
What else? Something small and fuzzy
brush against her legs, and she couldn’t
help but smile. “Of course. I wouldn’t
forget you Rier! I suppose Dorra and
Glasn will find their way to Talor Cliff,
won’t they?” She allowed herself another
brief smile. The Weyrwoman had tried
her hardest to get her daughter a gold
firelizard, and she had succeeded. The
other, a brown, had been found by Philaea
on a midday walk. With a satisfied nod,
Philaea left the room which had been her
home for 17 turns.
When she approached the bronzerider, he
was leaning against his dragon. “I am
done. Let’s go.”
<<You did not tell the Weyr,>>
Flurath said with a note of reproach.
>>I will tell them when I see fit.<<
And for some inexplicable reason, the
bronze did not protest again. The
bronzerider climbed aboard his lifemate,
and offered Philaea a hand. She gave him
the basket with her kitten a few belongings
inside. He balanced it in front of them,
and then offered a hand again. The other
demurred. “I know how to mount a
dragon, Br’jon.” With that sentence still
resting between them, she clambered
aboard Flurath. Br’jon smiled
appreciatively.
“Nice to meet a candidate who knows
how to deal with dragons.”
<<She has been dealing with dragons
since she was born, Br’jon. Longer than
you.>> The great bronze spread his
wings, and lifted off from the bowl.
Philaea felt the thrill she always felt when
flying. That unmeasurable exhilaration
that just seemed to fill her up. She had
almost forgotten why she was leaving,
until the voice of the young queen caught
her off guard.
