"Then," and Lessa paused, frowning, "I think Golanth shouted 'time it' and Ramoth saw the one feline Zaranth hadn't deflected with her body." Her frown deepened and she spoke slowly, measuring the words with the fleeting moment that had made all the difference. "If its jump had connected, the beast could easily have severed Golanth's spinal cord." A shudder ran down Lessa's body and F'lar pulled her head against him in a tight embrace as if he could press the horror of that moment out of her mind-and his. "It had to have been Golanth. Greens don't know the mechanics of timing it without guidance, and Golanth had done so much at Monaco and Sunrise Cliff," Lessa said softly. "The others had just come. Even Ramoth didn't grasp the danger immediately. So it had to have been Golanth who said 'time it.' He must have seen his peril through Zaranth's eyes. Or Tai's. And Ramoth perceived what action was imperative. To deflect the feline's spring. I lost touch with her-and you know that sense of blankness that is between!"she asked, looking up at him, her eyes swimming with tears. "I felt that. It's unmistakable. Ramoth timed it back to push the feline just far enough off balance so it missed its target. And didn't kill Golanth. Oh, F'lar, if it had, F'lessan wouldn't have been able to survive Golanth's death. Wouldn't have wanted to. We'd have lost them both!"
She crumpled then, having been calm, steadfast, and efficient for the past few hours. She burrowed into F'lar, struggling to hold him closer, closer, to drive away the appalling words she had just uttered.
"It's reaction," she sobbed. "I'm just reacting!" Tears streamed down her face; Lessa of Ruatha and Benden Weyr, she who had rarely cried, not even when Fax had slaughtered her family and everyone else in Ruatha Hold: now she wept!
She felt other tears drop onto her forehead, as she clung to her weyrmate and realized that he, too, cried even as he stroked her body and tried to soothe her, and let her weep. She couldn't stop, even if everyone or anyone else in Honshu heard her.
No one hears,Ramoth said, and her mental voice sounded very deep and echoing, but us.
It took time for both Weyrleaders to release pent-up emotions and regain composure. In the dark F'lar found the room's water basin and tap, discovered a towel, left behind when Monaco riders had been at Honshu, and they washed faces and hands. Still trembling, Lessa made an attempt to braid her hair and F'lar found a cup.
"Amazing!" he said, sitting beside her again, close enough that their thighs touched, as if he could no more bear separation in the aftermath of their emotional storm than she could. "The theory has always been that, if we knew the time, we could forestall a-a fatal-accident," he said in a low, shaky voice, reaching for her hand. "Like Moreta's death."
"Theory," she said with a derisive shrug. She sipped slowly from the cup of water, willing her body to stop shaking. F'lessan hadn't died because Golanth hadn't died. Golanth hadn't died because Ramoth had prevented it.
It isn't theory,Ramoth said, her mental tone tart, I timed it to the exact moment. Golanth showed me just how he had saved F'lessan and himself from being crushed by the tsunami wave. He was most resourceful to act on his own initiative. He learned something important that day and was too tired when he got back to Landing to tell even me. Today, Zaranth showed us how to push without touching. I admit that I had never thought greens could do something so unusual. I saw how she did it. Very clever of her. We two taught the others. But it was I who timed it to save Golanth from that last feline. Only I could have done that.
Lessa managed a shaky little laugh. Only you, my dearest. I do admit that today I learned something from a green dragon.Ramoth sounded as chagrined as her rider had ever heard her. I have told the others what Zaranth showed me how to do, how shepushed felines away,she added calmly. It is a useful skill for all to know.
Stunned by her dragon's attitude toward this new ability, Lessa turned to F'lar, whose expression was probably as incredulous as hers. Lessa gave one last hiccup.
"In case you're wondering," he said, with a little smile on his face, "Mnementh agrees. And Aivas was right."
She twitched her mouth and drew her brows together in a scowl. "Right again and, while I'm glad he is, I'm annoyed, too. He has complicated life."
"Maybe," F'lar said softly. "Maybe not. D'you remember Aivas trying to understand the abilities of our dragons?"
Lessa scowled, perplexed. "He knew-we told him-that they had always communicated with us mentally."
"Telepathy, he called it. And teleportation is the ability of dragons to go betweenfrom one place to another. Or, however briefly, one time to another." He finger-combed his hair back from his forehead. "Today they practiced the third of those special talents-telekinesis. Aivas could not understand why they could not do thatif they telepath and teleport. Now they can. I wonder how he would have used this new ability to physically move other things without contact."
"They moved felines who would have killed Golanth, F'lessan, Tai, and Zaranth." Lessa said in a soft pensive voice.
They were both silent in consideration of these startling new concepts.
"As long as they think they can," she said, tightening her fingers on his.
"That's the requisite," he agreed, nodding, a smile twitching at one side of his mouth.
"Then that means there issomething dragons can do about things in space."
He jerked straight up, hand gripping hers tightly. "Let's take this one slowly, shall we, my love?"
She swung her head back and forth. "Very slowly."
Someone tapped on the door and called her name.
She took a deep breath, felt F'lar do the same.
"Yes?"
"It's Manora. I just arrived to help. G'bol brought me on Mirreth."
"We'll be right there," Lessa called. When she turned her shining eyes to F'lar, they were no longer full of tears, but hope. He embraced her, cheek on her head, trying by the language of his body to tell her the words in his heart.
Calm and mutually supportive, they emerged from their brief respite to greet Manora.
Manora, headwoman of Benden's Lower Cavern, was seated beside the bed when Tai next woke, an honor that had Tai reeling until she felt Zaranth's mental touch, initially anxious and then relieved. You are better! I am, too.
"Ah, good," Manora said, examining Tai's face. "Your eyes are clearer and your fever is gone."
"F'lessan?" Tai tried to sit and wished she hadn't: she ached all over. This was much worse than the mauling she'd had from the men at Landing Healer Hall. She made no resistance when Manora pushed her back down.
"His fever has lessened, yes. His injuries were extensive. There was some internal damage, you see," and Manora's serious face made no light of that, "but Oldive and that clever-fingered Crivellan stopped the bleeding, repaired the damage the claws did, and he will heal."
Tai heard a note in her voice. "What else is wrong?"
She gave Tai's hand a reassuring clasp, her expression approving. "You're very quick, Green Rider Tai. Muscle was torn from F'lessan's left leg and not all the new skills that the Healer Hall has developed can replace that." She paused. "He'll have a few scars on his face but I do believe that once the wounds have healed they won't be so noticeable."