For her part, Javissa, who had taken over from Taria the role of headwoman of Sky Weyr, was spending more and more time with the old seaman, Colfet. Sometimes X’lerin had his bronze carry Javissa down to Colfet’s hut before breakfast. The two would return not only with fresh fish, but also with the contented expressions of two who had shared the silence of the dawn and the meditative pleasure of sitting together with their poles and waiting for fish to be lured onto their hooks.
Taria had put her finger on the value of the seaman when she’d said, “He’s got the calm of the sea.”
It had been Javissa and Colfet who had come up with the idea of capturing a Mrreow so they could study it. Taria had blanched at the notion, still remembering the pain her Coranth had felt when the Mrreow had scored her leg with its claws. Xhinna was tempted to side with her, but the tantalizing possibility of being able to control the tawny-furred beasts was too important: If they could prevent the Mrreows from attacking, then no other dragon would be mauled like Coranth.
Now Tazith relayed Xhinna’s order as she climbed onto his neck. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a flash of green rising into the sky.
Tell Coranth to stay back, she said. The green was heavy with egg and Xhinna didn’t want anything to happen to her.
She’ll stick with us, Tazith replied. Xhinna grinned at Taria’s tactic: with Taria on her tail, she’d not let herself get too close to the Mrreows, either.
Taria’s caution probably saved them both a mauling as the Mrreows fought ferociously to free themselves from the nets, one tearing a strip out of a brown who’d come too close.
Kill it! Xhinna ordered, waving at the group of blues she’d assigned to just this duty. One of them swooped low enough to let the rider fire an arrow deep into the Mrreow’s head, killing it instantly. The brown—J’keran’s Perinth—dropped the net with the dead Mrreow in it, wheeling away back toward the Weyr.
Tell Bekka, Xhinna said to Tazith.
She knows, the blue replied a moment later. She’s ready. The blue had a fierce tone in his thoughts. Xhinna could feel a matching rage for revenge rising within her, but she fought it back down, sending him a calming thought.
We should kill them all, Tazith thought, rumbling low in his chest. Around him, the other dragons rumbled their agreement.
But not that one, Xhinna thought, referring to the one that lay wriggling in the net below brown Jorth. Have W’vin bring it to the cage. And have X’lerin get the cover.
The cover was constructed just like the walls of the cage: tree-trunks spaced closely together. It was large and heavy enough that it took all of Kivith’s strength to lift it. As Xhinna watched, W’vin released the catch on the net just above the cage and the Mrreow slipped out of it onto the ground below. Xhinna was amazed at the big creature’s speed and agility; it had scarcely landed before it was back on its feet and leaping toward the top of the cage. X’lerin and Kivith were quick with the cover and had it down before the Mrreow could escape, but the creature had come much closer to freedom than Xhinna had expected.
Take us in, Xhinna said to Tazith. They landed close by the cage and the Mrreow leapt toward them, growling angrily in its raspy voice. Tazith bellowed to quiet it, but instead, the Mrreow batted a claw through the gap in the cage and roared back.
“Careful!” Taria cried, yanking Xhinna back. Xhinna had been so engrossed in watching the Mrreow that she hadn’t even noticed Coranth land.
The Mrreow gave another low growl and turned away from them, pacing around the perimeter of the cage, looking for a way out.
“She seems smart,” Taria noted, easing up on Xhinna’s arm and taking a step closer to the cage. She stepped back immediately as the Mrreow turned her tawny eyes in their direction.
“Very smart,” Xhinna agreed. She turned as she felt the wind from dragon wings landing behind them. It was X’lerin’s Kivith, and behind him was W’vin on Jorth.
“Keep back,” Xhinna warned them, as the Mrreow turned toward the new arrivals and leapt, growling.
“What’s wrong with her belly?” W’vin asked, pointing.
“She’s pregnant!” Taria exclaimed. To Xhinna she muttered, “Boys!”
“She doesn’t look well,” X’lerin said thoughtfully as he studied her.
Xhinna squinted for a better look. Yes, the Mrreow didn’t look well at all. There was blood dripping from her mouth.
“The fall hurt her,” Taria said. She sounded sad. “Do you think she’ll die before she delivers?”
“The other one was a male,” X’lerin said, gesturing behind them toward a tawny carcass that lay tangled in a net, an arrow protruding from its skull. “Perhaps they were a pair.”
“Looking for a safe place for their den,” Taria said with a sympathetic catch in her voice. Xhinna understood: Coranth was due to clutch any day now, and they were no closer to finding a safe place for the eggs.
“We should kill it,” X’lerin said, glancing toward the Mrreow as it made a pained sound—a high-pitched whine. “Shall I have P’nallo land?” he asked, referring to their best bowman.
“Look, she’s birthing!” Taria said urgently, pointing. The Mrreow had flopped over onto the ground, sides heaving even as more blood spilled from her snout. “We can’t kill her.”
“And what will we do with her get?” Xhinna asked. “They won’t survive without her.”
Taria grimaced, torn between her wish to let them be born and the prospect of their early death. “We could feed them scraps,” she said.
“They drink milk,” Xhinna said, pointing to one of the teats poking out of the Mrreow’s flank. “They won’t be able to eat.”
“Well, we’ve got milchbeasts in our herd, maybe they’d drink that,” W’vin suggested. “Babies do, and like it.”
He ignored Xhinna’s look of surprise. “If we raised them, maybe we could tame them. If we could train them, maybe we could use them to keep other Mrreows from attacking us.”
“These are nothing like dogs,” Xhinna said distractedly. Already, the first baby Mrreow was emerging from its mother. Xhinna stood, transfixed, as the dying Mrreow, with a faint growl of pain, turned to lick the sack from the baby, cleaning it. The baby made a soft sound, nuzzled toward its mother’s belly, found a teat, and started suckling. A moment later, X’lerin asked, “What’s that noise?”
The baby Mrreow was making a buzzing, rumbling sort of noise, but it didn’t sound like distress.
“It’s happy,” Taria said, smiling. “It’s with its mother and it’s drinking.”
“Just like the herdbeasts—they don’t make that sound but you can see how happy their calves are when nursing on their mothers,” W’vin agreed. He moved a step closer toward the cage. The Mrreow raised her head and gave a low growl. Then her flank rippled and she gave a piteous cry as her muscles pushed out another baby. Blood flowed freely from her nose and she laid her head back on the ground, making a smaller noise, like a dog’s whimper.
Taria started forward, pulling her dirk.
“What are you doing?” Xhinna asked, grabbing her free arm and tugging her back.
“She can’t lick the sack—the baby will suffocate,” Taria declared. “I’ve got to help.”
“She’ll kill you!” Xhinna cried.
Taria turned back to her, her eyes spangled with tears. “We can’t just let it die like that!”