Dragonsinger

“Everyone’s the better for a good gather,” said Talmor.

“Except Morshal,” said Sebell, and, glancing sideways at Talmor as if they shared some secret, rubbed the side of his nose.

“Let us play, Journeyman Sebell.” Menolly thought that Talmor sounded reproving.

“By all means, Journeyman Talmor,” said Sebell, not the least bit perturbed.

“If you will join us, Apprentice Menolly.” The brown man gestured elaborately for Menolly to take the stool beside him.

As Menolly checked the tuning of her gitar, Talmor turned the sheets of music on the rack. “Where does he want us to start?”

“Master Domick told me to study the dynamics of the second variation,” said Menolly with helpful deference.

“That’s right, that’s where,” said Talmor, snapping his fingers before he flipped the correct sheets to the front. “At the beat then…sweet shells, he’s changing the time in every third measure…what does he expect of us?”

“Are the dynamics difficult?” asked Menolly, feeling apprehensive.

“Not difficult, just Domick all over,” said Talmor with the sigh of the long-suffering. But he tapped the appropriate beat on the wood of his gitar and gave a more emphatic fifth beat for them to start.

They’d had a chance to go through the second variation once before Domick entered the room. Nodding courteously to them, he took his place. “Let’s start at the begi

“Does your hand hurt?” asked Domick with unexpected solicitude.

“No, I was just wondering if the string was true.”

“If you heard a sour sound, it was my stomach,” said Talmor.

“Too much gathering?” asked Sebell with little sympathy,

“No, not enough breakfast, thank you!” replied Talmor with the brusqueness of someone being teased. He rose and left the room, followed closely by the silently laughing Sebell.

“Master Shonagar has you this afternoon, Menolly?” asked Domick, motioning for Menolly to come with him.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, then you’d have to continue that voice instruction anyway,” he said in a cryptic fashion. Menolly decided he must be wishing to have her practice with him more steadily, but Master Robinton had been specific: her mornings were scheduled to Master Domick; afternoons she was to go to Master Shonagar.

When they entered the dining hall, the room was already well filled. Domick turned to the right toward the masters’ table. Menolly caught one glimpse of Master Morshal, already seated, his face set in the sourest lines she had yet seen on the bad-tempered old man, so she looked quickly away.

“Pona’s gone!” Piemur pounced on her from the left, his face wreathed with smug satisfaction. “So I can sit with you, near the girls, now. Audiva said I could ’cause it was Pona who got snotty. Audiva says will you please sit with her.”

“Pona’s gone?” Menolly, both surprised and nervous, permitted Piemur to pull her toward the hearthside table. There were two empty places, one on either side of Audiva, who smiled hesitantly as she saw Menolly approaching. She beckoned to the seat on her right, away from the other girls.

“See, Pona is gone! She got taken away a-dragonback,” Piemur added, his pleasure in her departure somewhat allayed by the prestigious ma

“Because of yesterday?” The thin knot of worry in her middle grew larger and colder. Pona in the cot, contained by the discipline of the Harper Hall, was bad enough; but, in her grandfather’s Hold, pouring out acid vengeance, she was much more dangerous for Harper apprentice, Menolly.

“Naw, not just yesterday,” Piemur said firmly. “So don’t you go feeling guilty about it. But yesterday was the final crack, the way I heard it, bearing false witness against you. And Dunca’s been raked over by Silvina! That pleased her no end; she’s just been itching to take Dunca down.”

Timiny was straddling three seats across from Audiva, and gesturing urgently to Menolly and Piemur to take them.

“You sit with Timiny, Piemur. I’m going to sit next to Audiva. Looks like she’s being put on by Briala with that empty seat and all.”

As she stepped to the place, she caught Briala’s startled, antagonistic glance. The dark girl nudged her neighbor, who also turned to glare at Menolly. But Menolly smiled at Audiva and, as she stood by the tall craft-girl, she felt Audiva’s hand fumble for hers and the grateful pressure of her fingers. Stealing a sideways glance, she noticed that Audiva’s eyes looked red and her cheeks showed the puffiness of recent and prolonged weeping.

The signal to be seated was given, and the meal began. If Menolly felt too self-conscious and Audiva too upset to talk, Piemur suffered no inhibitions and babbled on about how he’d made his marks count.

“I got nine more bubbly pies, Menolly,” he told her gaily, “ ’cause the baker thought they were for you, me and Camo. I did share with Timiny, didn’t I, Tim? And then I won a wager on the ru

“So, how many marks did you come back with?”

“Ha!” Piemur’s eyes flashed with his triumph. “More’n I went to the gather with, and I’m not saying how much that is.”

“You’re not keeping it in the dorm, are you?” asked Timiny, worried.

“Haw! I gave it to Silvina to keep safe for me. I’m no fool. And I told the entire dorm where my marks are, so they know it’s no good putting on me to find out where I’ve hid ’em. I may be small, but my glow’s not dim!”

Briala, who was pretending to ignore them all, made a disagreeable sound. Piemur was about to take umbrage when Menolly kicked his shin to warn him to be silent.

“You know what, Menolly,” and now Piemur leaned across the table, exuding mystery as he glanced from her to Audiva and Timiny, “they’re posting journeymen.”

“Are they?” asked Menolly, mystified.

“You ought to know. Couldn’t you hear anything in your room? I saw the windows of the Main Hall open, and you’re right over ’em.”

“I was busy,” Menolly said sternly to Piemur. “And I was brought up not to listen to other people’s private conversations!”

Piemur rolled his eyes in exasperation for such niceties. “You’ll never survive in a Harper Hall then, Menolly! You’ve got to be one jump ahead of the masters…and the Lord Holders…A harper’s supposed to learn as much as he can…”

“Learn, yes; overhear, no,” replied Menolly.

“And you’re an apprentice,” added Audiva.

“An apprentice learns to be a harper by overhearing his master, doesn’t he?” demanded Piemur. “Besides, I gotta think ahead. I gotta be good at something besides singing. My voice won’t last forever. Do you realize that only one out of hundreds,” and he waved his arms in such an expansive gesture that Timiny had to duck, “of boy sopranos have any voice when they hit the change? So, if I’m not lucky, but if I’m good at digging things out, maybe I’ll get posted like Sebell and have a fire lizard to take important messages from hold to hall…” Then Piemur froze, and cautiously turned to look at Menolly, his eyes wide with consternation.

She laughed; she couldn’t help it. Timiny, who had obviously heard Piemur’s long-range plan before, gulped so fiercely that his neck cartilage bobbed up and down his throat like a net floating in a fast current.

“I really do like the fire lizards, Menolly, I really do,” said Piemur, trying to undo the indiscretion and reinstate himself in Menolly’s good graces.