fully occupied with the just-gorged fire-lizard, his face split with a grin and his eyes shining in pure joy. Zist managed to remain awake long enough to ascertain that the fire-lizard was a brown, and to assure Pellar that it was, indeed, the most marvelous creature ever to grace any part of Pern.
Pellar named the fire-lizard Chitter, having first toyed with the name Voice because, as he wrote, Chitter was even better than having a voice—no one complained (much) when the fire-lizard made noise.
Masterharper Murenny had to agree with the youngster’s assessment, as the antics of the fire-lizard and his bright-eyed partner were soon the talk of the Harper Hall.
Not everyone appreciated the fire-lizard, however. “Take it away!” Mikal had cried in a hoarse, pained voice when Pellar proudly brought Chitter over to Mikal’s cave for inspection. Better was the effect the pair had on Zist, bringing the harper slowly out of the depths of his grief.
They spent more than a Turn gathering information. In that time, Pellar had made his first violin under Master Caldazon’s instruction, and had spent as much time as he could working with Mikal, learning about herbal cures and first aid. Summer had come again before Zist made his discovery.
“I think I should go to Crom,” he said late one night in a quiet conference with Murenny.
The Masterharper gave him an inquiring look.
“There were those reports last winter of missing coal and there are some more reports just in,” Zist said, waving a slate to the Masterharper. “And Masterminer Britell’s setting up some new mines far away from Crom Hold.”
“Go on.”
“Places far up in the mountains that will be isolated during the winter months,” Zist continued.
“Good places for things to go missing?” Murenny suggested.
“Along with good places to hide,” Zist agreed. “This report from Jofri suggests that there might be some friction between Miner Natalon and his uncle Tarik.”
“Wasn’t Tarik the one who reported missing a bunch of coal last winter?”
“He was,” Zist replied.
“You think perhaps the coal wasn’t lost?”
“Cromcoal costs.”
“No one would be happy to lose the value of their work,” Murenny remarked.
“Jofri’s reports lead me to wonder why Tarik didn’t complain more,” Zist said.
“What are you thinking?”
“Jofri’s ready for his Mastery,” Zist said. “He should come back here.”
Murenny nodded and motioned for the harper to continue.
“So we’ll need someone to take his place,” Zist said. “And, as I said before, I need some time away from here.”
“What about Pellar?”
Pellar had progressed mightily in the past Turn, producing a beautifully toned violin that had practically become his voice. In almost all respects, Zist thought, the boy was ready to walk the tables and become a journeyman.
“Would you leave him behind?” Murenny prompted when Zist made no response.
The other harper shook himself. “Sorry, just thinking.”
“I see my lessons have finally paid off,” Murenny remarked drolly.
Zist acknowledged the gibe with a roll of his eyes.
“And?” Murenny prompted.
“He should come with me,” Zist said. “He can make his own camp and keep out of sight.”
“His woodcraft is excellent,” Murenny agreed. “But why keep him out of sight?”
Zist shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “I just think it would be better if I appeared the old bitter harper, unaided.”
“Without Pellar,” Murenny noted sadly, “you’ll have no trouble filling the role.”
Pellar missed his fiddle; it had become the voice he didn’t have and he had rejoiced in it.
“I’ll keep it safe for you,” Masterharper Murenny had promised him, reverently placing it in its case and shaking his head in wonder. “I haven’t seen the like, and that’s the truth.” He shook a warning finger at Zist, saying, “You make sure the lad stays in one piece, Zist. I’ll want him back here