The Skies of Pern by Anne McCaffrey Read Free Book Online Page 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.
    O utside, 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 Esselinhad 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