Read Dragonsong for Free Online Page A

seeping into her shoes, dried as sweaty grit on her face and hands.
    Cautiously, she wriggled back from the edge of the bluff. If the fire lizards knew they’d been overseen, they might not return to this cove. When she felt she’d crawled far enough, she got to a crouching position and ran for a way.
    She felt as rarely privileged as if she’d been asked to Benden Weyr. She kicked up her heels in an excess of joy and then, spotting some thick marsh grass canes in the bog, snicked one off at the waterline. Her father may have taken her gitar away, but there were more materials than strings over a sounding box to make music.
    She measured the proper length barrel and cut off the rest. She deftly made six holes top and two bottom, as Petiron had taught her, and in moments, she was playing her reed pipe. A saucy tune, bright and gay because she was happy inside. A tune about a little fire lizard queen, sitting on a rock in the lapping sea, preening herself for her adoring bronze.
    She’d a bit of trouble with the obligatory runs and found herself changing keys, but when she’d rehearsed the tune several times, she decided she liked it. It sounded so different from the sort of melody Petiron had taught her, different from the traditional form. Furthermore, it sounded like a fire lizard song: sprightly, cunning, secretive.
    She stopped her piping, puzzled. Did the dragons know about fire lizards?

Chapter 3
    Holder, watch; Holder, learn
    Something new in every Turn
.
    Oldest may be coldest, too
.
    Sense the right: find the true!
    WHEN MENOLLY FINALLY got back to the Sea Hold, the sky was darkening. The Hall was bustling with the usual end of day activity. The oldsters were setting the dinner tables, tidying the great Hall and chattering away as if they hadn’t met for Turns instead of only that morning.
    With luck, thought Menolly, she could get her sack down to the water rooms …
    ‘Where did you go for those greens, Menolly? Nerat?’ Her mother appeared in front of her.
    ‘Almost.’
    Immediately Menolly saw that her pert words were ill-timed. Mavi roughly grabbed the sack and peered inside critically.
    ‘If you’d not made the trip worth the while … Sail’s been sighted.’
    ‘Sail?’
    Mavi closed the sack and shoved it back into Menolly’s hands. ‘Yes, sail. You should have been back hours ago. Whatever possessed you to take off so far with Thread …’
    ‘There weren’t any greens nearer …’
    ‘With Thread due to fall anytime? You’re a fool twice over.’
    ‘I was safe enough. I saw a dragonrider doing his sweep …’
    That pleased Mavi. ‘Thank heavens we’re beholden to Benden. They’re a proper Weyr.’ Mavi gave her daughter a shove towards the kitchen level. ‘Take those, and be sure the girls wash every speck of sand off. Who knows who’s sailing in?’
    Menolly slipped through the busy kitchen, countering orders flung at her by various other women who saw in her a capable assistant to do their own tasks. Menolly merely brandished the sack and proceeded down to the water rooms. There some of the older but still able women were busily sandscouring the best metal plates and trays.
    ‘I must have one basin for the greens, auntie,’ said Menolly, pushing up to the rank of stone sinks.
    ‘Greens is easier on old skin than sand,’ said one of the women in a quavering, long-suffering voice and promptly deposited her pile of plates into the sink beside her and pulled her plug.
    ‘More sand in greens than cleaning,’ another woman remarked in an acid tone.
    ‘Yes, but take it
off
greens,’ said the obliging one. ‘Oh, what a lovely mess of yellow-veins, too. Where did you find them this time of year, daughter?’
    ‘Halfway to Nerat.’ Menolly suppressed her grin at their startled shrieks of dismay. The furthest they’d stir from the Hold was the ledge in front on a sunny day.
    ‘With Thread falling? You naughty girl!’ ‘Did you hear about the sail?’ ‘Who do you suppose?’