“Why else would anyone be looking over Turns of the end of the thirteenth month? When the Ghost Showers occur?”

She looked everywhere but at him and then, suddenly, blurted out, “I often do some research for Master Wansor and he’d heard that the Ghosts—which we can’t see down here—but you’d know about them since you’re from Benden—” she stopped, swallowing as if she’d said something untoward.

“Yes, I know that they are not visible here in the southern hemisphere, and yes, they do appear extremely bright and numerous right now. I did notice. In fact, many people have noticed,” he went on encouragingly, “but, having lived in Benden Weyr all my life, I remember that on other occasions, they have been as bright and as numerous. I have studied some astronomy, so would a Benden dragonrider not totally untutored in his local starscape be any help to you?”

“Personal observations are always admissible,” she said rather primly. “Others have noted,” and she gave him the ghost of a smile, pointing to several of the volumes, “their brightness and numbers occur in cycles of seven Turns.”

“That’s right, because I was three when I saw the pretty lights and asked about them, and this is the fifth time I’ve seen them so brightly in their hundreds. Here, I’ll help you put those heavy books away. Spare irritating your hand.”

She seemed about to hesitate, but he stacked five volumes deftly on one arm and walked to the proper shelf. She hastily gathered up more.

“Did you have any luck with your research?” she asked when they had finished racking.

“Actually, no,” he said. “But there may not be a source.”

“With all this?” She indicated the full ranks of shelving around them.

“Aivas didn’t know everything,” he said, once again managing to startle her. “That’s not heretical, you realize, because he couldn’t have recorded anything after the Second Crossing.”

“I know.”

There was an odd note in that simple agreement that he didn’t dare query.

“The answer to my puzzle probably doesn’t even exist,” he added.

“What puzzle?” She inclined her body slightly in his direction.

Ah, she’s curious. That’s good. “Initials.” He reached into his belt and found the slip of paper. “S.K.” He smoothed it out to show her. She frowned slightly, puzzled but not totally reserved. “I believe the initials are Stev Kimmer’s,” he said.

She blinked. “Who?”

“A real villain—”

“Oh! The man who absconded with a functional sled after the Tubberman launch?”

“You know your history.”

She flushed, ducking her head. “I was very fortunate to be accepted to the Landing School.”

“You were? I hope you were a better student than I was.”

“But you were already a rider,” she said, startled into looking directly at him. Her eyes were an unusual shade of green.