“You tossed out the old shells?”

“Yes. Was that wrong?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Would she come back here again?”

“She might if the cove waters remain high the next time she mates. “Do you happen to remember when you saw her mating flight?”

“Yes, I do. Because we had Threadfall just after. The one when the leading edge hit the marshes halfway to Nerat”

“Good girl!” T’gellan tipped his head back, pressing his lips together, and Menolly thought he was doing some rapid mental calculations. Alemi had a similar habit when he was charting a course. “Yes. And when did these hatch?”

“I lost track of my sevendays, but they hatched five Falls ago.”

“That’s great. She may mate before high summer, if fire lizards follow the same sort of cycle the dragons do during a Pass.” He glanced around him at the bits and pieces with which she had made the cave livable. “Do you want any of these things?”

“Not many,” Menolly said and dove for her sleeping rug. Her pipes were still there, so he hadn’t seen them in his first visit to the cave. She bundled the rug round the pipes again. “My oil ... ” she said, grabbing up the pot “I’ll need that”

“Not realty,” said T’gellan with a grin, “but bring it along. Manora’s always interested in such things.”

She took her dried herbs, too, and made a neat package, which she could tie on her back. Ruthlessly then she began to chuck her homemade crockery out of the cave entrance.

“Oh!” Aghast, she rushed to the mouth, looking about for Monarth.

“You missed him! He’s got more sense than to stay around when there’s a cleaning.” With that T’gellan launched her boiling pot into the air.

“That’s everything, I think,” she said.

“Let’s go!”

At the entrance, Menolly turned for one last look at the cave and smiled to herself. She’d never thought to leave it; certainly not to step to the shoulders of a dragon. But then, she’d never thought she’d live in a cave like this at all, much less ride a dragon. Nothing now marked that anyone had ever sheltered in this cave. Even the dry sand was falling back into the depressions their feet had made. T’gellan held out his hand to help her to Monarth’s back, and then they were away to find the fire lizard’s clutch.

Chapter 11

The little queen, all golden

Flew hissing at the sea.

To keep it back,

To turn it back

She flew forth bravely.