Dragon Harper Read Free Page A

never hoped for more than to return to a small hold like Camp Natalon or a smaller holding. But a Weyr!
    A creeling sound distracted him; it was immediately amplified by the noise of other disturbed hatchlings, and he turned his gaze to the weyrling barracks. He caught flashes of movement and found himself stifling a sigh along with another thought: What would it have been like to wake up in the weyrling quarters?
    Kindan frowned and turned his eyes back to the dragonriders. The thought of waking up in the weyrling quarters had scared him and he wanted to distract himself from that. Why would Impressing a dragon scare him?
    It seemed that his gaze was felt by M’tal and D’vin, for they turned to look at him.
    “I’ll take my farewells, Kindan,” M’tal said. “I’ve work to attend to. D’vin will return you to the Harper Hall.”
    Kindan drew himself up and bowed. “Weyrleader.”
    M’tal growled and rushed toward Kindan, grabbing him in a great hug. “Don’t think you’ll get away with that!” he said and held Kindan tightly. For a moment Kindan tensed, then relaxed, realizing in a burst of clarity that M’tal truly appreciated him. Kindan also realized how much he missed the rare hugs that his father, Danil, had given him. M’tal was taller and more lithe than his father but, still…
    “If you’re ready,” D’vin said drolly. But there was a twinkle in his eyes.
    M’tal stepped back, looked Kindan in the eyes, and raised a hand to point at him. “Don’t forget what I said.”
    Kindan couldn’t help keep the surprise out of his voice as he asked, “You meant it?”
    “Of course,” M’tal said. “A dragonrider lives by his word.” He stepped close again and clapped Kindan on the shoulder. “Rather like a harper.”
    Kindan was so thrilled he could barely nod. M’tal gave him one final measuring look and turned, striding over to his bronze Gaminth.
    “Don’t take too long!” M’tal called as the bronze dragon leapt into the skies above High Reaches Weyr. Then, in a blink, dragon and rider were gone,
between.
    “Let’s go,” D’vin said brusquely to Kindan.
    “Yes, my lord,” Kindan replied, tightening his hold on his sak and following the impatient Wingleader.
    It seemed only a moment before they, too, were hovering high over the Weyr. Kindan dared himself to peer down over the dragon’s neck, and saw the small dots that were weyrfolk starting their daily chores and the larger dragons, looking smaller than fire-lizards, moving to the Weyr’s lake. And then, without warning, Kindan found himself engulfed in an oppressive darkness. His whole body was cold and he could hear nothing, feel nothing but the beating of his heart.
    Between.
The black nothingness that dragons—and watch-whers—could traverse from one place to another in the time it took to cough three times.
    Light burst upon him, assaulting his eyes at the same time that his ears were filled with reassuring sound. Before he could even adjust from the change, Kindan felt himself falling as the bronze dragon dropped down swiftly to the ground below.
    A jolt informed him that they had landed.
    “I cannot tarry,” D’vin said, craning his neck around to peer at Kindan. “Sonia will need help. I will trust you to enlighten the Masterharper.”
    Kindan nodded hastily, still grappling with D’vin’s interesting choice of words.
    “Fly well,” D’vin said, extending a hand.
    Kindan took it and nearly fell as D’vin urged him over the dragon’s neck.
    “Fly high, my lord,” Kindan called back formally. D’vin gaped at him for a moment in surprise at Kindan’s eloquence, then shook the expression off his face and gave Kindan a curt nod and a slight wave.
    The bronze dragon leapt into the air and was
between
once more before it had climbed a full dragonlength.
    It was only when D’vin and his bronze had departed that Kindan took in the morning around him. The sun was above the horizon, but there was still dew on the