by Randy Goldberg
with Betty Law and Peter Thomas
"Master Gaellon! Master Gaellon!" the apprentice called across the courtyard. The towheaded harper, lost in his book, kept walking. Mariel, in desperation, stopped dead in her tracks, and using everything Voice Master Newel had ever taught her, shouted at the top of her lungs, "MASTER GAELLON!!" Heads popped out of windows all around the courtyard, as Gaellon turned to look at his pursuer.
"Hmmmmm? Did you call me, Mariel?" Mariel threw her hands up in exasperation, and sprinted across the courtyard.
"Master Gwydion has asked to see you in his office right away, Master Gaellon." She smiled up at the blond, and coyly batted her eyelashes. "I could... escort you up there, if you like."
"I do know the way, Mariel," Gaellon replied. "Not again," he thought to himself. "Why won't these sharded girls let me alone? You'd think by know they'd know that I'm just not interested. Certainly, she's pretty; but even if a Master COULD have a relationship with an apprentice..." With a shake of his head, he started off.
"Ummm, Master Gaellon," Mariel giggled, "the Master's office is THAT way," pointing in the opposite direction.
"Oh, so it is." The apprentice seized his arm, and dragged him off toward the office of the Master of the Hall, chattering merrily about her upcoming turn in the Archives, "where we'll just work wonderfully together, won't we, Master Gaellon?" Gaellon heaved a long suffering sigh, and buried his nose back into his book.
"Have a seat, Gaellon," Harpermaster Second Gwydion waved absently toward a chair. "Some wine?"
"No, thank you, sir. It's a bit too early in the day."
"As you like. Now, I know you're posted to the Archives, and I think you may well be suited there. However, before we make that a permanent assignment, I'd like to see how you do in some of the other specialties. Weyrwoman Navira informs me that Liosonth's clutch is due to hatch any day, and she'll be needing three or four harpers to perform for the Hatching Feast. She's specifically asked for you. So, pack a bag, and be ready to fly a-dragonback at a moment's notice. Any idea why she'd have asked for you?"
Gaellon vaguely remembered being introduced to the Weyrwoman in passing several seven-days before, just after he had arrived at Cove, but did not even recall having greeted her. "No, sir. None at all."
"Well, no matter. Off you go, and be at the arch when you hear the dragons call."
"A MASTER?!?!" M'zel exclaimed. "You want ME to carry a Master?"
"Yes, I do. And so does Navira," replied Weyrleader K'redor. "Is there a problem with that, dragonrider?" K'redor grinned. "Most riders would be honored by such an offer!"
"It's a great honor, Weyrleader!" M'zel explained. "It's just that... wouldn't a bronze or at least a brown rider be more fitting of a Master's status?"
"True," K'redor conceded, "but Navira specifically asked for you to carry Master Gaellon for the upcoming Hatching. So, be ready to fly!" With that, the Weyrleader turned and started up the steps to Navira's weyr.
Tifereth bent his foreleg, and M'zel jumped up onto his neck. They leaped up to the ledge on the third level, and padded into their weyr. M'zel climbed down and started undoing the leather straps of his riding harness.
You're troubled.... came the thought from the blue. ...is it something that Lanseth's rider said?
"Yes," M'zel said absently. He looked at the spot that K'redor had just abandoned. He mechanically undid the rest of the straps, long practice making it an automatic habit. "Why do they want ME to carry a Master?"
Why worry about it, M'zel? came the thought back. It's a simple task and you should be honored.
M'zel reached up and scratched Tifereth's left eyeridge, "I guess so, but why ME? Especially to carry someone of Master rank?" As he scratched his dragon he pulled off his riding helmet and goggles. He shook his head and his long, wavy dark hair fell free.
Maybe the Weyrleaders think you're good enough to carry a Master to the Hatching?
"I'll be so nervous, we'll come out of between UPSIDE DOWN!" protested M'zel. As he said this, he pulled off his tunic and sighed. Long Turns at pulling fishing nets for his native Tillek Hold and more recently as a dragon rider had given him a well-defined physique. Sweat glistened on pale skin. He had spent 3 Turns at Sable Weyr, yet his northern heritage made him burn rather than tan well.
No we won't! came the dragon's emphatic reply. I've gotten very good at correcting your problem. We'll do fine! Maybe we should practice precise landings to impress this Master Harper.
"Now there's an idea!" M'zel hugged the huge, triangular head of his blue dragon looking again into those whirling jewel eyes. He saw his own reflection, a broad faced youth of 21 Turns with well-defined features framed in shaggy hair. Hazel eyes smiled back at him. Absently, he pulled at his long hair and muttered about needing to get it cut as he set about cleaning first his dragon and then himself.
Gaellon had nearly forgotten his instructions to be ready to fly, when he heard the watch dragon bellow. He jumped, startled, then remembered. "Oh, my," he thought. "I'd better jump to it, or Gwydion will execute me!"
He grabbed his gitar (which, fortunately, he had remembered to wrap for between after his meeting with the 'Master Second) and his carrisak, and ran for the courtyard. As he burst into the bright sunlight on the far side of the arch, he blinked. Master Gwydion was standing there, with Masters Felenor, Dakaref and Zakry, and two riders.
"Hurry up, Gaellon! Mustn't keep the Weyrleader waiting; we'll miss the Hatching! You'll ride with M'zel, here." He indicated a dark-haired young man, a bit taller than Gaellon himself, with a sunny smile. Without any warning, Gaellon's heart started to pound, and his mouth dried up. It had been a long time, indeed... "Shards and Shells," he thought to himself, "has one of my night-dreams come to life?"
"A pleasure to meet you, Master Gaellon. And this is Tifereth," the rider indicated the blue behind him.
Gaellon fought not to stare. With much effort, he forced his reply to sound nonchalant. "My duty, Tifereth, and my thanks for the ride to the Weyr. And, please, call me Gaellon." "Fool," he thought to himself, "he probably will never even notice you. You're just another passenger. And besides, he's so YOUNG."
"Leg up, Gaellon?" M'zel asked. Gaellon shook himself, and noticed Dakaref and Zakry already on the dragon's back.
For answer, Gaellon placed his foot on Tifereth's outstretched arm and sprang into the harness, saying, "No, thanks, M'zel."
The dragonrider just grinned, and leaped up himself.
"Then we're off. Sky's up, Tifereth!" With that, the dragon gathered himself and leaped for the air. Almost before they cleared the roofs of the Hall, there was only between.
Popping out of between into the warm, humid air over Cove, M'zel quickly spotted the wide landing space by the causeway approaching the Hold. The watch-dragon bugled out a greeting which Tifereth returned.
"Okay, Tifereth, let's show them just how well a blue can land!" The blue responded by wheeling gracefully in an ever decreasing spiral to the exact center of the landing space, touching down lightly and raising only a minimum of dust.
K'redor's bronze landed beside him seconds later. Glancing over, M'zel saw his expression, a mixture of admiration and a smile that said "showoff." M'zel grinned back at him.
Four men waited below, all wearing Harper blue and Masters knots. "Only four," M'zel wondered. "I thought there were to be five." As he joined K'redor and the Harpers, a blond-haired man burst out of the shadows at the end of the causeway. Despite the fact that he was at least 10 Turns older than M'zel, somehow he still looked near the same age. M'zel was struck by how handsome this Master harper was, with his fine, long blond hair and ice blue eyes. "Oh, my..." thought the blue rider.
Do you like him? Tifereth asked.
"YES!!" thought M'zel, more emphatically than he intended. "Well, uh, he's very handsome. But I doubt he'll even notice us. We're just a ride for him to the Hatching."
M'zel tried to remember his rehearsed speech as the blond walked toward him. "A pleasure to meet you, Master Gaellon. And this is Tifereth." He waved his arm to indicate the blue behind him. Tifereth nodded to the archivist, as one of the other harpers climbed on.
M'zel smiled his best at the blond, suddenly realizing how contrived his speech sounded.
"My duty, Tifereth, and my thanks for the ride to the Weyr," the harper said, in a distracted voice. "And, please, call me Gaellon."
"Leg up, Gaellon?" M'zel asked instantly regretting the remark. Of course he doesn't need a leg up, he thought. He's not some poor cripple. He's done this many times.
"No thanks, M'zel," Gaellon said as he stepped onto Tifereth's outstretched foreleg and then leaped onto the riding harness. M'zel just smiled, trying to cover his embarrassment. He stepped up and then leaped into the harness.
"Sky's up, Tifereth!" M'zel said, making his customary joke to the dragon. He hid his nervousness by strictly following his routine of readying for flight.
Why are you nervous? Tifereth's calm thoughts came to him. He seems to be a nice man. Better than some of your other partners.
"Tifereth!!" thought M'zel almost angrily. "Not now!" With a leap and a strong downbeat of blue wings, the dragon was airborne.
Gaellon gasped as they burst into the air over Sable Weyr. "All right back there?" M'zel asked.
"Fine, thanks. Just been a long time since I was dragonback," the harper shouted. Moments later, they had settled in a cloud of dust. "I had been Searched, and spent five Turns here at the Weyr," he explained as he climbed down.
"And you never Impressed? How awful for you!" The dragonrider was clearly unaware of how callous his remark was; it was simply his open nature. At that moment, the humming of dragons was heard from the Hatching grounds.
"So soon?" M'zel said. He turned his head to the cavern. When he turned back, Gaellon was standing on the ground looking toward the cavern, too.
"My thanks for a smooth ride, M'zel, Tifereth," the archivist said, formally. "Maybe I'll see you at the Feast?"
"Assuredly!" M'zel said, a touch of disappointment in his voice. He wanted to talk to this interesting person but with the Hatching...
With a leap, Tifereth was in the air again, gliding into the Hatching cavern and settling onto the ledge for the Golden Sands Wing dragons. Whatever interesting thoughts M'zel had about the blond harper, they were lost, for the moment, as he relived the memories of his pairing with Tifereth three Turns ago as he watched the Hatching unfold.
Back in his Weyr, M'zel bathed and dressed in something more appropriate for a Hatching feast. He selected his favorite dark green tunic and black trous and matching belt.
You're humming, Tifereth thought to him as M'zel brushed his hair.
M'zel stopped himself and grinned. "You're right, I am!"
Good. That means you're happy. And you're thinking of Gaellon. Tifereth didn't mention the harper by name, but a strong mental image of him flashed into M'zel's mind.
"Have I been THAT obvious?"
Your mind is filled with his image. How can I NOT know about that?
"You can't hide anything from your dragon, can you?" M'zel asked rhetorically.
M'zel went to Tifereth, curled up on his stone bed, and plopped down on the blue's side. "Oh, Tifereth, he probably doesn't even remember me. Why am I getting all dressed up for him?"
This morning you were so nervous about him, now you can't stop thinking about him. You've never done THAT before.
"I've never met anyone like Gaellon before." M'zel shrugged. "Oh, why am I doing this? I'm not even sure he's like me. With my luck, he's probably Hold-bred and has some weird ideas about the way dragonriders get their pleasure."
And maybe he WILL like you, just for the way you are. I certainly do.
M'zel reached up and hugged the blue dragon's head. "Aww, Tifereth! You're my dragon and I'm your rider. But with humans it isn't the same. We don't Impress. It takes time for us to find that bond between us. It just doesn't happen like what happened between us." M'zel looked up into the rainbow eyes of his blue dragon and for the thousandth time was lost in the beauty and love reflected there.
But how can you ever find that bond if you never look? Tifereth inquired.
And that, thought M'zel to himself, is the infuriating thing about dragons. They're so literal sometimes. And just as often, they're so right, he amended to himself.
Shouldn't you get ready for the feast and Gaellon? Tifereth nudged.
M'zel got up and hugged the blue, scratching the eye ridge thoughtfully and then finished brushing his hair and then tying it back, all the while humming to himself and thinking of the blond Master harper.
Gaellon walked into the Living Cavern, where the tables were being set up for the feast. Across the room, his eye caught on a familar head among the rest. He swerved in that direction. Standing to the man's right, he reached across and tapped his left shoulder. When he looked to the left, Gaellon laughed.
"Gaellon! You little sneak! How are you?" Ed'mos, the Crystal Cliffs Wingleader, rose to envelop the harper in a hug.
"Very well, Ed'mos, very well."
The brownrider thought for a moment. "Has it really been ten Turns since you left us, Gaellon? I often think I understand how the dragons choose, but you... you would have made a marvelous rider. I'll never understand why you didn't Impress."
"Ed'mos, that was long ago, and almost in another life. I'm happy in the Harper craft."
"That's good to hear, very good to hear. I see Master Gwydion over there, trying to get your attention. I'll see you later on."
He moved to the dais, where the other harpers were preparing themselves. Masters Gwydion and Felenor were chatting amiably with Dakaref and Zakry, while the apprentices and journeymen assigned to the Weyr set up their instruments. He noticed grins exchanged, and quickly erased, as he approached the group. "Are you playing tonight, Master Gwydion?" Gaellon inquired politely.
"One or two, Gaellon, one or two. At the Weyrleaders' request," he grinned. The Master of the Hall was invited to all the Hatchings; Felenor had many friends in the Weyr. Dak and Zakry had probably come just for the party - that would be typical behavior for Cove's two biggest party animals.
"Why am I the only Master playing on the dais tonight?" Gaellon thought. "There's something more than a test of my abilities in the air..."
His attention was distracted as a pretty woman about his own age rushed up and threw her arms about his neck. "Hello, Gaellon!"
"Oriana! I thought you'd be far too busy to come over and say 'hello'. My duty to Perieth."
"Of course not, love, I'm never to busy to greet you! I am too busy to stay and chat, though. Stay a couple of days, and we'll catch up. You've been away from the Weyr too long, sweetling. I miss you!" With a peck on the cheek and a whirl of skirts, she was gone.
He turned to fiddle with the instrument in his lap again, when Ed'mos sauntered over. "Am I EVER going to get my gitar tuned?" the blond asked himself. He still played occasionally, but not so often that tuning his instrument was second nature any longer.
The older man leaned in to ask softly, "Have you had a chance to talk with M'zel yet?"
Gaellon looked at him rather quizzically as he answered, "No.... Is there something we are supposed to talk about?" He thought, "Why this sudden interest in that young dragonrider? They couldn't be trying to match me up, now, could they?"
Ed'mos hurriedly answered, "No, no, nothing in particular," and moved off, leaving Gaellon to tune his gitar... finally.
The feast was several hours old when M'zel found find a nice, quiet spot in the Lower Caverns to rest his tired feet. "Well, so much for trying to find Gaellon!" he muttered.
After dressing for the Hatching Feast, he'd thought he'd find Gaellon and see if his interest mirrored his own. At least, that was his plan.
He spotted Gaellon early on, but the blond archivist was preparing for playing at the feast. Not wanting to disturb the musician before an evening of playing, M'zel decided to wait before speaking to him. Then he was coerced into helping in the kitchen by Ben, the Headman. Freed from his kitchen duties, he went back searching for Gaellon, but when he spotted him, he almost gave up for the evening. The musician was taking a break, sipping something steaming in a mug. He was also surrounded by three young women, all vying for his attention.
It was then that M'zel started down to the Lower Caverns looking for something to drink and a place to rest his weary feet. So, he missed seeing Ed'mos relieving Gaellon of his three admirers.
Later, just as he was about to call Tifereth down to the floor of the gorge so he could get back to their weyr, M'zel spotted the blond harper massaging his hands. M'zel moved quickly to the dais where the musicians were taking their break.
"Um, need any help, Master Gaellon?" M'zel asked as he peered over the shoulder of the musician. Startled, the blonde turned. As he saw the blue rider, a smile spread over his face.
"Certainly, dragonrider!" the harper stammered out. "But remember, please, call me Gaellon."
"And I'm M'zel," the blue-rider grinned. There was a long pause where the two stared at each other, saying nothing. Neither of them noticed that Gwydion took the opportunity to place Gaellon's hands into M'zel's and started the blue-rider massaging Gaellon's tired fingers. Neither did they see him leave, grinning broadly.
After several long moments, M'zel finally stammered out, "I've been looking for you the whole feast, but you were busy playing and I helping with the serving. Then, I saw you entertaining those young ladies..."
"Yes," Gaellon continued. "I seem to have that problem. Young women are forever throwing themselves at me. You should see how some of the new apprentices at Cove Harper Hall make eyes at me!" the archivist sighed.
A thoughtful look came over M'zel's face. "Would you like to go for a walk, Gaellon?"
"I'd love to, but... I have to continue playing," Gaellon said apologetically. M'zel suddenly looked distressed. Out of nowhere, Gwydion appeared.
"You look tired, Gaellon. Why don't you let us finish playing for the evening?" Gwydion said, grinning widely. M'zel looked around and saw Ed'mos and the Weyrleaders not too far off, all of them mirroring Gwydion's grin and making shooing motions with their hands.
Out in the gorge, the sky was clear with stars sparkling brightly. A moment later the dark shape of a dragon landed softly nearby, its eyes whirling a happy blue.
"Come on, Gaellon, I want to show you something," M'zel said.
"A-dragonback? We're not going between, are we?"
"No, neither of us is dressed for it. Don't worry!"
As he climbed astride the blue, Gaellon heard a voice in his head. He's very fond of you.
"What did you say?" Gaellon asked aloud.
"I didn't say anything," M'zel said as he climbed onto his dragon.
"Didn't you just tell me 'he's very fond of you'?" Gaellon asked.
No, I did that! again the voice resounded in Gaellon's head. This time both M'zel and Gaellon stared at the blue dragon. "You've never done THAT before!" M'zel looked as startled as Gaellon did.
I've never liked any of your other partners as much as I like Master Gaellon! the blue said smugly. M'zel glanced over his shoulder at Gaellon. Seeing a blank look on the Harper master's face, he thought to himself, "Thank goodness he didn't address that to both of us!"
Gaellon, meanwhile, thought to himself, "Other partners? Maybe I was reading the signals correctly after all."
Almost at once, they were airborne. In a neat spiral, Tifereth flew up the gorge of Sable.
And as quick the flight had begun, it was over as Tifereth settled to the ground near the huge Star Stones at the highest peak of Sable. M'zel helped Gaellon down to the ground as the dragon settled himself. As M'zel and Gaellon plopped down on the blue's side, the dragon curled his head and tail protectively around the two men.
"I like to come up here and do my favorite thing, star gaze," M'zel said.
Gaellon looked up at the sky and was astonished. From down in the gorge, only a few of the brightest stars had been visible, but here at the Star Stones, the whole night sky seemed lit up. A huge band of stars spanned the sky, stretching from one horizon to the other.
"Back at Tillek Hold, where I was born," M'zel explained, "I first got a chance to see the stars like this only when the ships were far from the coast. But up here, the lights from the Weyr are so dim it's nearly as good."
"I've never seen the night sky like this," exclaimed Gaellon. "I've spent most of my time around the large Holds and Halls. This is truly beautiful!"
"I've always loved the night sky," M'zel said, quietly. "I was apprenticed to the StarSmiths for a while, but my reversal problem got in the way, so I went back to regular smithing."
"Reversal problem?" Gaellon asked, his voice as quiet as M'zel's.
"I get the order of numbers and letters twisted around sometimes," the blue rider explained.
"Oh!" said Gaellon, startled by the revelation. "Doesn't that make it difficult to give co-ordinates to Tifereth?"
"It was," M'zel said, his voice almost childlike with candor. "The first time it happened, Tifereth came out of between upside down." A rumble and snort came from the blue dragon. "But now, we're both careful. If we're worried about it, Tifereth checks co-ordinates with our wingleader or the Weyrleader."
They sat together in silence for a time. Just as the silence was getting uncomfortable, Gaellon spoke. "You know, M'zel, something you said this morning bothered me."
"Really? I'm sorry. What did I say?"
"You can't begin to imagine how I felt when I was told I was too old to stand on the Hatching ground again. I had been here for five Turns - five Turns, M'zel! Do you have any idea how much things change in five Turns? I had kept up my musical practice with the Weyrsinger, Lundie - that was how I 'earned my keep,' since I wasn't a rider and certainly wasn't cut out for the lower caverns. Still, when I came back to the Hall, I found there was so much I had forgotten, or didn't know because it was new, or - " He broke off abruptly. M'zel reached out and gently touched Gaellon's shoulder.
The harper drew a shuddering breath, and continued. "M'zel, I wanted to Impress so badly. Twenty-six times I stood on the Hatching Grounds, and twenty-six times, I left alone. All my friends, the old ones from when I first arrived like R'nol and Jesyka, and the new ones who kept arriving as they were Searched, like Oriana... they mostly Impressed. And I just kept growing up, and never Impressed -" He gave a sort of strangled sob, and a tear coursed down his cheek. Gently, the bluerider pulled Gaellon's head to his chest, and held him as he cried.
When the tears stopped, Gaellon sat up and dried his eyes on his sleeve. "My, I haven't done that since I was a child." He grabbed his carrisak, and rummaged for a moment. "I thought I had... ah, yes, here it is!" Holding up a wineskin, he remarked, "I don't know about you, but I could use a drop of Benden right now." After taking a healthy swig, he offered the skin to M'zel.
The rider took the wine, but didn't drink. After a moment, M'zel looked over at the harper. "Gaellon, there's something I must ask you..." M'zel started.
Almost as if reading the rider's mind, Gaellon picked up the thought. "...do I enjoy men, the way you do? Yes, very much so. I know about blue, green and brown riders and their mating flights..."
"....but for me, it's just not on mating flights..." M'zel continued.
"...it's all the time!" the two men spoke the words together, then burst out laughing. "You know," Gaellon said, "that would almost be frightening, if it weren't so funny. How in the name of Faranth's Shell could we have been so close inside each others' head?" Neither man noticed Tifereth grinning in the darkness. With a rueful shake of his head, the harper took the wineskin back and took another swig.
M'zel looked deep into Gaellon's eyes. Grabbing the wineskin, he took a long drink, as if looking for courage in the bottom of the bag. Tentatively, slowly, he said, "Let's go down to my weyr...."
With a grin, the Harper rose fluidly to his feet and offered his hand to the dragonrider. "I thought you'd never ask!"
When he awoke the next morning, the sun was shining from the wrong direction. Then he felt the head pillowed on his chest, and remembered where he was. Looking down at M'zel's dark hair, he smiled. Gently, he liberated his arm, and stroked the boy's head. And he was a boy - why, he had to be at least ten Turns younger! He couldn't help but wonder what this... this youngling saw in him. "Fool," he chided himself again. "Why question good fortune?"
He drew a deep breath, enjoying the musky, draconic smell from the young man sleeping in his arms. He drifted back into a doze, until M'zel stirred. "Good morning, youngling! Did you sleep well?"
"As well as can be expected, considering how busy we were last night. I never expected you to be able to tire me out, old man!" M'zel grinned.
"Old man! Old man, my eye! Come here, and I'll show you how old I'm not!" They fell back in another embrace.
As Tifereth settled to the ground, Navira, dressed in a day tunic, approached and started scratching the blue's eyeridges carefully. "We did very well last night, didn't we, Tifereth?" The blue nodded his great head in response.
"You mean YOU'RE the one behind all of last night?" M'zel said as he stepped down. "Why, you meddling woman...." he said with mock anger.
"Truthfully, I'm not the one to blame!" Navira said, shrinking back as M'zel advanced on her.
"Then maybe HE can explain!" cried Gaellon as he dismounted in turn and pointed at the approaching Ed'mos. The blond advanced on the older man.
"Not I!" Ed'mos protested. "I'm not the one who started this."
"Then who?" asked M'zel as he stared at Navira.
"Talk to him!" pointed the Weyrwoman. All eyes followed her finger back to the blue dragon.
"Tifereth?" chorused M'zel and Gaellon.
Me! resounded the mental voice of the dragon in the heads of Navira, M'zel, Gaellon and Ed'mos. M'zel and Gaellon looked at the dragon, stunned.
"My own dragon was playing tricks on me!" said M'zel in a disbelieving voice. "I don't understand."
Aren't you happy with Gaellon? said the dragon; his tone was almost one of hurt.
"Tifereth!! I'm always happy with you and what you do. But why did you do this? And in this way?" M'zel came up to the dragon and hugged the blue's head.
You needed a companion. A HUMAN companion. I sensed he would be good for you and I bespoke Busidith's rider.
"And I asked Navira to arrange to get Gaellon here for the hatching," chimed in the brownrider.
"You never cease to amaze me, Tifereth," M'zel said softly as he stroked the blue's soft hide.
"What did he say?" asked Gaellon. M'zel relayed the message. "He sensed I would be good for you?" Gaellon repeated, incredulous.
"Are you objecting, Master Gaellon?" Navira grinned at him, almost daring him to disprove her statement.
"You'll get no objections from me!" said the blond as he wrapped an arm around the blue rider's waist.
"Good, as I like to see my fellow Masters happy, too," spoke up Master Gwydion as he approached. He smiled warmly at Gaellon. "We were getting a little worried about you, Gaellon."
"So was I," Gaellon added with a rare laugh. "Even you were beginning to look attractive, old friend." At that, Gwydion let go a laugh, too.
"I was? I mean... go on, both of you! Shoo! Away with you!"
The two laughed, and walked away, hand in hand.
Forward to the next story: Parenthood
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Published in Flights of Fancy #25, the fanzine of
Author: Randy Goldberg MD
Last modified: 19-Sep-04