"There," Tai said, her right index finger tapping the glass so that he could find the bold handwritten Stev Kimmer, Eng.
With careful fingers, F'lessan smoothed his note on the glass, just above the bold, and legible, name.
"Couldn't be anyone else," Tai said. She ran her finger down the listings. "No other S.K."
"You're right, you're right. He's here. It's him." With his characteristic exuberance, F'lessan grabbed her by the waist and spun her about, forgetting the reserve she had shown any of his overtures of friendliness. "Oops!" He dropped her, staring in mute apology.
She staggered a little off balance and instantly he steadied her.
"Thank you very much for finding it so quickly. I was looking so hard I couldn't see," he said, giving her a quick bow.
She had a very nice smile, he thought, as the corners of her wide mouth curved up, showing her teeth, white and even, accented by a tanned complexion that was as much heredity as exposure to southern sun.
"Why was it so important to you?"
"Do you really want to know?" he asked with the ingenuousness that could still surprise people.
Her smile deepened, causing two dimples to appear in her cheeks. He didn't know any girls with dimples.
"If a dragonrider finds it more important than"-she tilted her head toward the noise of very loud dance music-"Turnover eating and dancing, it must be important."
He chuckled, "You'rea dragonrider and you're here."
"But you're F'lessan and a bronze rider."
"And you are Tai and a green rider," he countered.
The dimples disappeared and she looked away from him.
You are a bronze rider and you are F'lessan and she's shy,Golanth said. Zaranth says she wants to make something of herself for After. She never wants to be beholden to anyone else ever.
Like all dragonriders,F'lessan said with considerable irony.
Not even to other dragonriders,Golanth added, slightly offended by Tai's utter independence.
"We were getting along quite well when you found Stev Kimmer's signature for me," F'lessan said gently.
Be very careful,his dragon said softly.
"I think the numbweed is dry enough now," he added. "I know I'm hungry and thirsty and, while I would prefer to go back to Honshu, I have to put in an appearance out there." He nodded in the direction of the music.
"Is that where Stev Kimmer went? To Honshu? Why would that be his destination?"
"Ah," and F'lessan held up a finger, "that's part of the puzzle I've got. I did find his initials on surfaces in the Hold, and yet the records Ita Fusaiyuki kept until a few months after Kenjo's death make no mention of him."
"She died there?"
F'lessan shook his head as she absently followed his slow drift out of the Archives room.
"I don't know that. Aivas has records of messages sent to her, urging her to come first to Landing to cross north. So she was still alive during the Second Crossing. Or someone at Honshu was."
"I promised I'd lock up," Tai said, pausing in the entrance hall to enable the alarm.
F'lessan nodded approval. All archival material, whether here or at a Hall or Hold, was provided with safeguards against natural-or unnatural-accidents.
Outside, both stopped on the wide top step. The quick transition from twilight to full tropical night had occurred as they talked. Below them, spread out in festive splendor, were the lights, sights, and sounds of Turnover. More enticing were the luscious aromas of the fine feast awaiting the revelers. As one they inhaled the odors and then, again simultaneously, turned slightly to see the round blue lanterns of massed dragon eyes on the heights, the blue denoting the dragons' own enjoyment of the happy scene. The music came to a raucous finale and the sound of laughter and excited chatter drifted back to them.
"The harpers are setting down their instruments," F'lessan said, pointing to the platform. He rubbed his hands together. "That means it's time to eat and I'm very hungry."
He looked around at her: she was exactly the right height for him. But would she dance if he asked her? "I am, too," she admitted and tilted her chin just slightly. He made a bow and swept his hand gracefully, indicating they should proceed.
"You've got long legs. I'll race you to the roast pits." And he took off, hearing her laugh before he heard her boots scrabbling in the beach pebbles that lined the path.
Tai, who knew rather more about Benden Wingleader F'lessan than he was aware, surprised herself by responding to the challenge. Despite all the tales she had heard from Mirrim about the bronze rider-including dire warnings about his fecklessness-he had acted considerately and courteously toward her in the library. She'd been surprised that he appeared to know his way around the shelves. He had certainly prevented her from getting in trouble with Master Esselin, who had his own ideas about what dragonriders should study. Especially green female riders. After Tai's first distressing encounter with the pompous Archivist, Mirrim had comforted her with a tale of how nasty Esselin had once been to her, in the early days of the discoveries at Landing, before Aivas was discovered, and how MasterHarper Robinton himself had acted on Mirrim's behalf. The fussbudget was the main reason Tai tried to pick unusual hours at the library: times when she wouldn't have to deal with the persnickety old man.
Fortunately the path from that wing of the Archives was wide all the way down to the open area where the Turnover festivities were being held. Now that the sun was down, lighting had come up so they didn't have to watch where they put their feet. F'lessan was ahead of her, as he passed the Aivas section, but he slowed and looked to his right with a respectful bend of his head. Tai knew that he'd been very much involved with Aivas, almost from the day of discovery, so his reverence was understandable. She slowed, too, as much from surprise as to nod her own respects. Then he lengthened his stride and so did she, trying to catch up. She wasn't a Runner, but she was no drag foot either and really wanted to catch up. Riders kept fit-it was part of their dedication to their dragons-and running was good exercise.
She ran into the dragonrider when he abruptly stopped, rounding a curve and trying to keep from knocking over a couple who were so involved in each other that they were oblivious to their surroundings. His halt and turn were close to acrobatic as he kept her from tripping over him.
Contrary to what Mirrim had led Tai to expect in F'lessan's behavior, he held her no longer than was necessary for her to regain her balance. His eyes were merry with amusement as he jerked his head at the still unmindful pair, lost in their private world.
"Let us not be an obstacle in the path of true love," he murmured to her and gestured that they circle around the lovers. He was breathing only a little hard from the run, though no more than she was.
They made the detour and then, the race forgotten, loped easily side by side toward the roasting pits. Diners were just beginning to assemble.
There was always an evening breeze at Landing, and that dried the sweat on her brow as they stood in line. They arrived just before the crowd streaming from the square. By the time they were served roast beast and quarters of grilled avians, and took their choice from steaming bowls of tubers and vegetables, the line at the serving tables had tripled its length.
"Where shall we sit?" F'lessan asked her, looking around.