The tenderness, the concern, and the deep affection in Sean’s voice were almost embarrassing to hear. Red looked at his son-in-law in surprise. So Impression had affected young Connell, as it had changed all the dragonmates. Even Sorka, who had always been caring and capable, seemed somehow strengthened and exuded a radiance that could not all be attributed to her pregnancy.

Young David Catarel had altered in the most spectacular way. Badly scarred mentally as well as physically by that First Fall and Lucy Tubberman’s tragic death, the young man had retreated into a wallow of self-disgust and needless guilt. Not even intensive therapy had broken through the stubborn facade. David fought Thread with a vindictive intensity that was frightening to watch. Only when he had seen how useful dragonets were in ground-crewing had he tolerated their wistful affection.

The renaissance of his personality had begun the moment Polenth nudged his knee. An openly smiling, ecstatic David Catarel had left the hatching sands, solicitously and deftly assisting the staggering little dragon. The changes in the other youths had been felicitous as well, though Catherine Radenlin-Doyle’s tendency to giggle at some unheard comment from her golden mate could be disconcerting. Shih Lao, who had Impressed bronze Firth, also went about with smiles on his once pensive face, Tarrie Chernoff had stopped apologizing for any minor accident or inconsistency, and Otto Hegelman’s stutter had completely disappeared.

“They’re credits to you both,” Caesar Galliani said to Sean and Sorka. “Though Marco’s Duluth, if I say so myself, looks equally as well.”

Sean grinned at the Roma stakeholder. “He does, indeed. As long as they’re eating, sleeping—”

“Being bathed, cosseted, oiled, and scratched, they have nothing to complain of,” Sorka finished, giving Faranth’s nose a final swipe. “There now, love, why don’t you curl up and go to sleep?”

Carenath’s not finished, Faranth complained even as she was moving to the sun-warmed plascrete she preferred as her couch. I like him to lean against. I’m a little hungry.

Sorka put her fingers between her front teeth and gave a piercing whistle. The dragonets instantly disappeared.

All clean, Carenath cried, hopping out of the bath. Warned by Sean, he did not shake himself all over his audience. Carefully he extended his wet glistening wings, holding them aloft in the slight breeze while Sean, with Sorka’s help, mopped his underparts dry.

“D’you need anything, Sean, while we’re here?” Red asked.

“Nope,” Sean grunted as he bent to dry the claw sheaths. The claw design was one of the few physical modifications that Kitti Ping had made from dragonet to dragon. The fingerlike claws would be more useful, she had thought, for grabbing running animals than the dragonets’ pincer-type arrangement. “As soon as they’ve had their snack, we’ll have one, too.”