Manora and Lessa came running then, kicking up dust in spite of F’lar’s urgent caution. But Manora reassured them that the boys were all right and briskly delegated two men to carry them back to the Weyr proper. Then she turned to the curious crowd that had assembled in the corridor.

“The emergency is over. Everyone back. Dinner’s ready, my lady, my lords. Pick up your feet, Silon. No need to stir up more dust.” She glanced at the Weyrleader and the Mastersmith. As one, the two men approached the mysterious doorway, Lessa and Lytol joining them.

Her crisp instructions cleared the corridor quickly until there were only the five remaining.

“The light is not made by glows,” announced the Mastersmith as he peered cautiously into the bright room. “And from the smoothness of the walls, this is part of the original Weyr.” He scowled at F’lar. “Were you aware such rooms existed?” It was almost an accusation.

“There were rumors, of course,” F’lar said, stepping inside, “but I don’t think I ever got very far down any of the unused corridors when I was a weyrling. Did you, Lytol?”

The Lord Warder snorted irritably but now that he knew Jaxom was all right, he could not resist looking in.

“Perhaps you should give him leave to prowl in Ruatha if he can find treasure rooms like this one,” Robinton suggested slyly. “And what under the sun could this represent? Lessa, you’re our expert on wall hangings, what do you say?”

He pointed to a drawing, composed of weird interconnecting varicolored rods and balls which spread in several ladderlike columns from floor to ceiling.

“I wouldn’t call it artistic, but the colors are pretty,” she said, peering closely at the wall. She touched a portion with a finger. “Why, the color is baked on the wall. And look here! Someone didn’t like it although I don’t think their correction helps. It’s more a scribble than a design. And it’s not even in the same type of coloring.”

Fandarel scrutinized the drawing, his nose an inch from the wall. “Odd. Very odd.” Then he moved off to other wonders, his huge hands reverently caressing the metallic counters, the hanging shelves. His expression was so rapt that Lessa suppressed a giggle. “Simply amazing. I believe that this countertop was extruded in a single sheet.” He clucked to himself. “If it has been done, it can be done. I must think about it.”

F’lar was more interested in the scribble-design. There was something tantalizingly familiar about it.

“Lessa, I’d swear I’ve seen just such a nonsense before.”

“But we’ve never been here. No one has.”