Kindan smiled at Cristov. “She likes you.”
“Cristov!” a voice shouted from inside the house. It was Tarik.
“I’m here,” Cristov shouted back. Before Kindan could back away, Tarik appeared.
“What are you doing?” Tarik demanded, his lips pursed tightly.
“I just wanted to see the watch-wher,” Cristov replied, but Kindan could hear the fear in his voice.
Tarik stepped out of the house and joined the boys. He looked down at Kisk, eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“So this is the watch-wher that will save us all?” Tarik said derisively. “It’s smaller than a wherry. Ima’s been saving her best scraps for this}”
“She’s nice,” Cristov responded quietly.
“She’s a waste of time,” Tarik said with a snort. “They all are.” He gave Kindan a dismissive look. “And so are those who care for them.”
Kindan stood up to his full height and glared at Tarik. “Miner Natalon thought her worth enough to pay a whole winter’s coal for her.”
Tarik barked a laugh. “My nephew’s a fool. A winter’s coal! What a waste!”
“Tarik!” Dara called from inside the house. She peered out the door. “You’ve found Cristov. Good. Now the two of you come in for dinner.” She saw Kindan and smiled at him. “Ah, Kindan! Good to see you. Is that the new watch-wher?” Kindan caught the narrowed look she gave her husband. “A green? Has she given you her name yet?”
“Kisk, ma’am,” Kindan replied politely.
Dara nodded. “A good name,” she judged. Then she said, “You’ll have to forgive my men, their dinner’s ready.”
“It’s quite all right,” Kindan replied using his best Harper-trained manners. With a frown he added, “I think Kisk has gotten bored again, anyway.”
He was right: The watch-wher had started tugging on her lead. However, to Kindan’s dismay, Kisk was not ready to return to her lair. In the end, he was certain that he had heard the first of the dawn chorus before Kisk emitted a huge yawn and nearly curled up where she was. It took all Kindan’s charming to get her back to the shed, where they both fell into a deep sleep before the first cock crowed.
Chapter IX
Well, I’ve given up.” Master Zist sat back on his haunches with a disgusted look. “I’ve read everything I could, got Tarri to bring me references up from Crom itself, and we still don’t know anything more about our voracious friend here than what we’ve learned ourselves in the past three months.”
Kindan, Zenor, and Nuella all nodded in agreement.
“They’re smarter than fire-lizards,” Zenor said stalwartly. One of Tarri’s traders had a fire-lizard, and Zenor had observed it closely the last time the caravan had come.
“And Kisk, at least, can sense when I’m sad or happy,” Kindan said, his voice breaking as he spoke. Zenor grinned at his discomfort, earning a scowl from Kindan. He was glad that the Harper had not commented on Kindan’s voice—which seemed all squeak and growl, either too high or too low. He remembered with deep regret how horribly he’d teased Kaylek when the older boy’s voice had broken.
“I’ll bet you’d be happier if she could understand when you’re sleepy,” Nuella murmured.
“Oh, not to worry, Nuella,” Master Zist said with a wave of his hand. “Kindan’s just turned twelve, and as soon as he hits his growth, he’ll find himself a night owl just like Kisk, here.”
Zenor, who had shot up in the past several months, nodded glumly. “Growth spurts hurt, Kindan,” he said. “But at least you won’t worry about your sleep schedule.”
Zenor had teased Nuella when he’d passed her height, but she had ignored him. However, when Kisk grew tall enough to butt her head, Nuella had been quite startled.
“Well, it’s only fair,” Zenor had joked in his new, deep voice. “You started growing earlier and have been taller all this time. It’s about time you got a dose of your own medicine.”
Kindan, whose height was still less than Nuella’s, wisely kept quiet. In fact, if he didn’t grow soon, Kisk’s shoulders would be level with his.
She was twelve hands high at the shoulder, and nearly forty hands from nose to tail. She had all the size of a near-grown workbeast like those pulling the drays.
“She’s filled out a fair bit, too,” Master Zist commented, patting Kisk firmly on the side of her neck. Her muscles, always visible under her skin, were now tight and well formed, firm with strength. “I think she’ll reach her full height in another two months or so.”
“Is that earlier than dragons?” Kindan asked.
“Hmm, there’s one way to find out,” Master Zist said. He stood up. “Kindan, why don’t you leave Kisk in our care while you go to the watch-heights? I’m sure M’tal would like to see how well your watch-wher’s grown.”
“You’re going to send for a dragonrider?” Nuella asked in amazement.
“He’s an old friend of mine,” Master Zist confided.
“But I thought that Telgar wouldn’t answer the call.”
“Weyrleader M’tal,” Kindan said, pausing to savor his friends’ astonishment, “leads Benden, not Telgar.”
“Benden!” Zenor and Nuella gasped in unison. Both of them had been born and raised in Camp Natalon. Crom Hold was an unimaginable distance to them, Telgar Weyr a place only in the rarest of dreams. They couldn’t begin to imagine a place as distant as Benden Weyr.
“All right, Kindan, now that you’ve seen their jaws drop, you can run off and drum out the call,” Master Zist said drolly. “You do remember it?”
“Zist requests M’tal,” Kindan recited easily.
Kindan knew that it would take some time before M’tal would even get the drum message and probably longer still before the Weyrleader could find time to respond.
Winter had come again to the Camp. Toldur and his evening shift had finished cutting the new shaft into the mine. There had been a special Gather at Natalon’s hold to celebrate. Because there were no traders, Nuella couldn’t attend. It had looked like Master Zist would have to handle the evening’s entertainment by himself, but Nuella, with Zenor’s connivance, had volunteered to watch Kisk.
“She’ll need exercise,” Kindan had warned.
Nuella had dismissed that with a toss of her head. “You can exercise her when you get back. I’ll keep her here, thank you.”
“How will you get back to the hold?” Kindan had asked.
“How else? You and Kisk will escort me,” Nuella had replied. “Honestly, don’t you think everyone will be too tired to notice or, more likely, asleep?”
Kindan had cheered up. “Thanks, Nuella. I appreciate this.”
Nuella smiled at him. Then she added, “Don’t think I won’t remember it, you know.”
“And I’ll keep Zenor out of trouble,” Kindan had added.
“That goes without saying,” Nuella had responded, shoving him out the door.
“You’re lucky she was willing to take the risk,” Master Zist had commented later. “I’m afraid this is the last time we’ll be able to perform together.”
“What?” Kindan had been aghast.
“Think about it,” Master Zist had said. “Your watch-wher is getting bigger. She’s almost old enough to start training. And then she’ll start work. Watch-whers work—and train—at night. There will be very few Gathers during the day until the thaw. And then you’ll be working full-time.”
Kindan had been thunderstruck. He had known that becoming the wherhandler had meant that he couldn’t remain Master Zist’s apprentice, but he had hoped to always be able to find time to perform with the Harper. Master Zist had seen the look on his face and had worked carefully to cheer Kindan up before the Gather, finding dainties for him and talking encouragingly about the watch-wher and Kindan’s sacrifice for the good of the miners.