Dragon Harper

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J’lantir’s brows were thick, gathered like thunderclouds as he glowered at his wing riders. He had called them to his quarters and met them in Lolanth’s weyr. The presence of his bronze dragon, eyes whirling menacingly red, left his wing riders in no doubt as to his mood.

“A sevenday!” he bellowed. “You’ve been missing for a whole sevenday.”

He glared at each one in turn, ending with J’trel and his partner, K’nad. J’trel, J’lantir guessed, would say nothing, but K’nad looked both too nervous and too—amused?

Every rider had bags under his eyes as though he had been without sleep for the whole sevenday. Young J’lian was leaning against V’sog, who himself looked only barely able to stand. M’jial and B’zim surreptitiously supported the other two.

L’cal’s frown was severe and directed toward the rest of the wing, but beneath his bushy eyebrows, the eldest rider maintained a stoic silence.

Cavorting and carrying on, no doubt, J’lantir thought sourly. Their dragons looked even worse, pale and exhausted. J’lantir had never heard of dragons becoming exhausted because of their riders’ antics. He narrowed his eyes as he looked more carefully at K’nad. The man had a tan!

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