“Yes, indeed, and there’ll be some looking for more,” she said with a complacent smile. “Impression Days are good days. I’ve a fosterling and a blood son on the Hatching Ground today!” she added with understandable pride. “Sanral” she turned her head to shout over her shoulder, “just one more largish kettle will take what’s left.” Then white roots had to be sliced finely, covered with herbs and placed in clay pots to bake. The succulent odors of Menolly’s fish concoction aroused compliments from Felena, who was in charge of the various hearths and ovens. Then Menolly, who was told to keep off her poor feet, helped decorate the spiced cakes. She giggled with the rest when Sanra distributed pieces of one cake about, saying they had to be certain the bake had turned out well, didn’t they?

Menolly did not forget to turn the fire lizard eggs, or to feed her friends. Beauty stayed within sight of Menolly, but the others had been seen bathing in the lake and sunning themselves, scrupulously avoiding Ramoth, whose bugles punctuated the morning.

“She’s always like that on Impression Day,” T’gellan told Menolly as he grabbed a quick bite to eat at her table. “Say, will you get your fire lizards to hum along with you again this evening? I’ve been called a liar because I said you’d taught them to sing.”

“They might turn difficult and shy in front of a lot of people, you know.”

“Well, we’ll wait till things get quiet, and then we’ll give it a try, huh. Now, I’m to see you get to the Hatching. Mid-afternoon, I’d say, so be ready.”

As it happened, she wasn’t. She felt the thrumming before she heard it. She and everyone else in the cavern stopped working as one-by-one they became aware of the intensely exciting noise. Menolly gasped, because she recognized it as the same sort of sound the fire lizards had made when their eggs had hatched.

There was suddenly no time for her to return to her cubicle and change. T’gellan appeared at the cavern entrance, gesturing urgently to her. She made as much speed as her feet would permit because she could see Monarth waiting outside the entrance. T’gellan had already taken her hand when she exclaimed over the cooking stains and wet marks on her overshirt,

“I told you to be ready. I’ll put you in a corner, pet, not that anyone will notice stains today,” T’gellan reassured her.

A trifle resentful, Menolly noticed that he was dressed in new dark trousers, a handsomely overstitched tunic, a belt worked with metal and jewels, but she didn’t resist.