She turned to the other lizards now, begging them to do something. At least until the Threadfall was over. Desperately she plunged back to the cave mouth and tried to turn the little fire lizards back with her hands, blocking their progress with her body. She was overwhelmed with pangs of hunger, belly-knotting, gut-twisting hunger. It took her only a moment to realize that the driving force in these fire lizards was that sort of hunger: that was what was sending them senselessly forth. They had to eat. She remembered that dragons had to eat, too, when they first Hatched, fed by the boys they Impressed.
Menolly wildly grabbed for her carry-sack. With one hand she snatched a fire lizard back from the entrance, and with the other, a spiderclaw from the sack. The little bronze screeched once and then bit the spider-claw behind the eye, neatly killing it. Wings beating, the bronze lifted itself free of Menolly’s grasp and with more strength than Menolly would have thought the newborn creature could possess flew its prey to a corner and began tearing it apart.
Menolly reached out randomly now and, with some surprise, found herself holding the one queen in the clutch. She snagged two spiderclaws from the sack in her other hand, and deposited them and the queen in another corner. Finally realizing she couldn’t handfeed the whole clutch, she upended the sack, spilling the shellfish out.
Newly hatched fire lizards swarmed over and after the spiderclaws. Menolly caught two more lizards before they could reach the cave mouth and put them squarely in the center of their first meal. She was busy trying to make sure that each new fire lizard had a shellfish when she felt something pricking her shoulder. Surprised, she looked up to find the little bronze clinging to her tunic. His round eyes were whirling and he was still hungry. She gave him an unclaimed spiderclaw and put him back in his corner. She tossed the little queen another and snared several other spiderclaws for her “specials.”
Not many more of the newly-hatched got out, not with a source of food so nearby. She’d had a fair haul in the sack, but it didn’t take long for the hungry fire lizards to devour every last morsel. The poor things were still sounding starved as they creeled about, tipping over claws and body shells, trying to find any scraps overlooked. But they stayed in the cave and now the older fire lizards joined them, nuzzling or stroking, making affectionate noises.
Utterly exhausted, Menolly leaned back against the wall, watching their antics. At least they’d not all died. She glanced apprehensively at the entrance and saw no more writhing lengths of Thread falling past. She peered further. There wasn’t even a trace of the menacing gray fog on the horizon. Threadfall must be over.
And not a moment too soon. Now she was experiencing hunger thoughts from all the fire lizards. Rather overpoweringly, in fact. Because she realized how hungry she herself was.
The little queen, the old queen, began to hover in the cave, squeaking an imperious command to her followers. Then she darted out and the old clutch began to follow her. The fledglings, moving awkwardly, made their virgin flight, and within moments, the cave was empty of all but Menolly, her torn sack, and a pile of empty spiderclaw and fire lizard shells.
With their exit, some of Menolly’s hunger eased and she remembered the bread she’d tucked in her pocket. Feeling a bit guilty at this belated discovery, she gratefully ate every crumb.
Then she made herself a hollow in the sand, pulled the torn carry-sack over her shoulders, and went to sleep.
Chapter 6
Lord of the Hold, your charge is sure
In thick walls, metal doors, and no verdure.
Threadfall was well past, the flamethrower crews safely back in Half-Circle Hold before anyone missed Menolly. Sella did because she didn’t want to have to tend Old Uncle. He had had another seizure, and someone had to stay by his bedside.
“That’s about all she’s good for now anyway,” Sella told Mavi and then hastily demurred at her mother’s stern look. “Well, all she does is drag about, cradling that hand of hers as if it were precious. She gets off all the real work…” Sella let out a heavy sigh.
“We’ve enough trouble this morning what with someone leaving the Hold doors unfastened and Thread falling…” Mavi shuddered at the thought of that brace of horrors; the mere notion of Thread cascading down, able to wriggle within the Hold, turned her stomach. “Go find Menolly and see that she knows what to do in case the old man has another fit.”
It took Sella the better part of an hour to realize that Menolly was neither in the Hold nor among those baiting longlines. She hadn’t been among the flamethrower crews. In fact, no one could remember having seen or spoken to her all day.
“She couldn’t have been out hunting greens like she usually does,” said an old auntie thoughtfully, pursing her lips. “Threadfall was on directly we’d our morning klah. Didn’t see her in the kitchen then, either. And she’s usually so good about helping, one-handed and all that she is, poor dear.”
At first Sella was just annoyed. So like Menolly to be absent when needed. Mavi was a good deal too lenient with the child. Well, if she’d not been in the Hold in the morning, she’d been caught out in the Thread. And that served her right.
Then Sella wasn’t so sure. She began to feel the first vestige of fright. If Menolly had been out during Threadfall, surely there’d be…something…left that Thread couldn’t eat.
Gulping back nausea at that thought, she sought out her brother, Alemi, who was in charge of the flame throwers.
“Alemi, you didn’t see anything…unusual…when you were ground checking?”
“What do you mean by ‘unusual’?”
“You know, traces…”
“Of what? I’ve no time now for riddles, Sella.”
“I mean, if someone were caught out during Threadfall, how would you know?”
“Whatever are you tacking around?”
“Menolly’s nowhere in the Hold, or the Dock, or anywhere. She wasn’t on any of the teams…”
Alemi frowned. “No, she wasn’t, but I thought Mavi needed her in the Hold for something.”
“…There! And none of the aunties remember seeing her this morning. And the Hold doors were unbarred!”
“You think Menolly left the Hold early?” Alemi realized that a strong, tall girl like Menolly could very easily have managed the door bars.
“You know how she’s been since she hurt her hand: creeping away every chance she gets.”
Alemi did know, for he was fond of his gawky sister, and he particularly missed her singing. He didn’t share Yanus’s reservations about Menolly’s ability. And he didn’t honestly agree with Yanus’s decision to keep knowledge of it from the Harper, especially now that there was a Harper in the Hold to keep her in line.
“Well?” Sella’s prompting irritated him out of his thoughts.
“I saw nothing unusual.”
“Would there be something? If Thread did get her?”
Alemi gave Sella a long hard look. She sounded as if she’d be glad if Menolly did get Threaded.
“There’d be nothing left if she’d been caught by Thread. But no Thread got through the Benden wings.”
With that he turned on his heel and left his sister, mouth agape. His reassurance was curiously no consolation to Sella. However, since Menolly was so obviously missing, Sella could take some pleasure in informing Mavi of this fact, adding her theory that Menolly had committed the enormous crime of leaving the Hold doors unbarred.
“Menolly?” Mavi was handing out sea salt and spiceroot to the head cook when Sella imparted her news. “Menolly?”
“Yes, Menolly. She’s gone. Not been seen, and she’s the one left the Hold doors unbarred. With Thread falling!”
“Thread wasn’t falling when Yanus discovered the doors open.” Mavi corrected Sella mechanically. She shuddered at the thought of anyone, even a recalcitrant daughter, caught out in the silvery rain of Thread.