Tales from the Fair
Chapter 5: Harper Hall Vignettes

Part 1: Arrival

Our human is changing her home again. All nine of us are going with her, of course. We must be near her, and she can no longer function without us. This new place is not near water; it is near a great gray cliff, of the sort that makes a fine home for our kind to sleep, but a poor place to hunt or lay eggs. Our human will evidently live in the human-made place at the base of this cliff.

A very large dragon brings our human here. That dragon has been to this place many times and knows it well, so he tells us where we should perch. It is not just a suggestion, so we all land there. It is a fine perch with a good view of everything around us. He lands, and his human helps our human dismount. She walks with difficulty; her mind-pictures show that her feet are still recovering from her injury. It is a pity that she cannot grow wings and fly like we do.

The other humans are leading our human inside the building. Everyone is very happy to see her, although some are not sure why they are happy. We cannot see her now, but she is still showing mind-pictures without fear. We ought to go to her so we can be with her. She has told us to stay where we are, and the large dragon repeats this order. This contradiction makes us mildly unhappy.

Then we receive a picture from her of an open window, and a request to join her. She does not have to ask us twice! We quickly find the window and fly inside. Our human is there, along with the man who rides the dragon and a woman who radiates kindness and authority. We circle that woman for a few moments so all of us can see her. She does not react with fear, the way some humans do when they first see all of us; she is curious and she thinks kind thoughts about us.

Our human says we need to settle down. It is something of a puzzle, finding nine good perches in an unfamiliar place in dim light, but I tell the others it is time to rest, and they all find a resting place. My place is on our human's shoulder, where I should always be. The two bronzes light on a boxy human-made thing, and the others come to rest on the edge of the window. They are unsure of their surroundings. The kind lady says some nice things about the bronzes, so they relax and show off for her. That means I must also show off; I will not be upstaged by a mere male! The kind lady appreciates me. We will consider that one to be a good human, even though she has not fed us.

Now the other humans leave. Our human needs to sleep. We will help her. I curl up next to her head, so I can awaken her quickly if I sense danger. The others join us on the human sleeping-place, one by one, surrounding her with our bodies so she will feel safe and warm. We soon can tell that she is asleep. Only then do we join her in our own nighttime rest.

It has been a very busy day, but it has ended well.

Part 2: Food

It is morning, the sun has risen, and we are all very hungry.

Our human has finally awakened. We permit her to adjust her hair and clothing, as a courtesy, but then we make it known to her that it is well past our feeding time. She leads us out and tries to find food for us. She does not know where the food is! This could be most unpleasant.

But our human is clever. We catch a stray mind-picture of her following the scent of food to its source. She is most intelligent and resourceful, our human. We follow her. When we get close to the source of the wonderful smells, she tells us to wait where we are. As the queen, I make it my business to go wherever my human goes, but the others find perches and wait. "The food will be here soon," I reassure them. Judging by their eyes, the food had better be here very soon.

We enter a place full of humans and food smells. The humans exchange words, and a large one follows our human with a large bowl filled with food. Could that be for us? It smells wonderful, fresh and tasty. As we step outside, the large man sees me. His mind-pictures are simple and easily understood; he likes me very much. I would fan my wings for him, but I am too hungry to put on a show. I want food, now!

My human understands that cry well enough. She begins to feed me from the bowl. The food is delicious. My mind-picture of feeding immediately draws the others. They have never seen this large human before, but they sense that he is a good human and that he can be trusted. They perch on him as they feed. He remains motionless and becomes a very good perch indeed. The bowl is soon empty, and our bellies are properly full. The large man does not move until after we are finished. He seems to like us very much. It is good to find humans like this one. I hope we will stay here for a while.

Part 3: Song

We have eaten our fill, so all is well. Our human begins to eat her own food. She is kind and considerate, to feed us before she feeds herself. Perhaps our loud cries and our hungry mind-pictures have something to do with that, but no matter. The sun is warm and pleasant and our human is completely relaxed, so it is time for us to relax as well.

We hear a sudden low sound from nearby. It takes us a moment to recognize it as the pleasing sounds that our human calls "music." We take flight for a moment, then relax again as our human makes her happy sounds.

The musical voices are lower than her voice, and not quite so pleasant. They need accompaniment. I will improve on their music and show them how it ought to be done. I begin to sing along. I immediately notice that my voice has made the music better. Most of the males in my fair join me. Yes, that sounds much better, now that we have added our voices. Our human is very happy now. She also begins to sing. Evidently, this song is one that she knows. With her voice added, the music is perfect.

Then the lower voices hesitate, and they begin to drop out. In a matter of moments, no one is singing except for me, the others of our kind, and our human. There are human faces appearing all around us, staring in wide-eyed silence. If they are enjoying our music, then we will oblige them! Still, it is strange that a place so filled with singing should find it odd that we would sing as well.

The song ends. There are many mind-pictures from the humans around us. Most of them are appreciative, with some wonder mixed in. One of them is irritated. We sense that our human wishes that we had not sung. That makes no sense – she always welcomed our music before. What has changed?

Then the human who shows great strength and authority speaks, and his mind-picture also shows pleasure with our singing. Apparently, if he approves, then no one else is allowed to disapprove. Our human's mood brightens. The authority-human exchanges pleasant words with the others. The low-voiced humans begin to sing the song again. "Should I sing along with them?" I ask my human.

She says no, I should not sing this time. It will cause some kind of problem that I do not understand. No matter; we have shown them what we can do. Now it is time to rest and sleep off our meal. I resume my rightful place on my human's shoulder. The others disappear, and reappear on their perching places on top of the human buildings. We will rest now.

Part 4: Unpleasantness

Our human has visited the authority-human. He greeted me when he saw me; I think he is a good human. Then she visited a man who hurt her slightly, but her mind-picture said it was all right, he was trying to help her feel better. Now the nice-lady human is taking her to another human place. There is a human there who clearly does not approve of our human. If she wishes to earn my approval, this is not the way to do it. Then she sees me, and she makes a terrible noise that hurts my ears!

I am ready to protect my human against this unpleasant person. I give her a warning hiss, and my wings are ready for a quick flight into the unpleasant one's face. But my human calms me slightly, and the nice-lady human speaks to the unpleasant-lady human. The mind-pictures are confusing. My human says I must not attack or threaten the unpleasant-lady human. The nice-lady human does not like the unpleasant-lady human, but she still wishes no harm to her. The unpleasant-lady human does not like me at all, and she is afraid of me, even though she is much bigger than me. I am still angry at this lady because she does not like my human, but I will obey my human and I will not attack.

We all walk into the human-place and find a room at the end. The nice-lady human opens the windows. When she did that last night, my human called all of us into the room. No one will ever accuse me of being a slow learner! I call in the rest of my fair. In moments, they are here, and the unpleasant-lady human hides her head in her garments and makes her horrible high-pitched fearful noises again. Why? She has seen me already; she knows what our kind look like. What is she so afraid of?

My human orders us about, getting us organized as skillfully as I could do. She must be learning from me; she is an apt pupil. Everyone finds a perch and begins to settle down. The nice-lady human pets one of the bronzes, and our human pets me. We all relax, very slightly. I still do not like this human who makes bad noises whenever she sees me, but I will obey my own human and I will not cause problems. We soon leave. My human begins to relax as soon as she is out of that place. She has a mind-picture of staying there, and that is unfortunate. I had hoped never to go there again. These humans are living by rules that I do not understand.

Nevertheless, there is one thing that I do understand, all too clearly. The human in that place is not a good human. She dislikes our human and she dislikes us. She is a bad human, and my friends and I will treat her as such.

Part 5: Pipes

Our human is going back to the bad-human-place. I see her mind-picture; she wants her musical pipes. She played those pipes for us when we all lived in the cave by the sea. Those pipes taught us how to sing and make music with our human. Perhaps she wants to play them for us again.

Then she gets to the door, and she stops. I can hear another human's voice inside. It is not the bad-human, but she sounds just as bad. I sense revulsion and fear in my human. Does this place make the humans in it turn bad? If it does, then my human must not go there.

"Pay that one no mind," I tell her. "You are a good human. You are not like them." I try to reassure her, and I can tell that it helps. Still, there is fear in her.

The others of my kind are flying in circles now. They want to perch on the open window, but the window is closed. They swirl about, just like the multiple mind-pictures that are swirling through our human's head. She thinks about our cave by the sea; she thinks about the other humans in this place, some of whom are good to her and others who are not; she thinks about music; and her thoughts keep coming back to the musical pipes. She wants them very badly, but she is not willing to go into the bad-human-place to get them. She is wise, not to want to go into that place. I approve.

Then I examine her mind-picture of the pipes. It is very precise; she knows exactly where they are, and we are familiar with the place. I can work with a picture like that.

I call to the others of my kind and I give them that picture. In a moment, we are inside the bad-human-place. My first task is to see if the bad human is there to interfere with us. She is not. That is good; I will not have to frighten her away and endure her fearful noises. Now I must organize my friends. The bronzes and I will lift the narrow end because we are the strongest. The others can lift the wide end because there is more room for all of them. We gather, lift the musical pipes with our claws, and take flight.

It is hard to fly when we are packed so tightly together. One of the greens protests that her wings do not have enough room to flap. The blue tells her to move over; the lazy brown tells them both to give him more space; I tell them all to pay attention to what they are doing; and by the time we re-emerge outside, all of us are calling loudly at each other and no one is listening.

Our human looks up at us; our noise probably drew her attention. "Drop it!" I order, loudly enough to be heard over the din of the others, and we all let go at once. Our human catches her pipes, and her mind-picture instantly changes. She is happy and excited to have the pipes, and she is even more pleased with us for bringing them. She has not been this happy since we arrived at this human-place. Will she play her pipes for us now, so we can sing with her?

She does not play them. She takes them and hurries into the big human-place. I had thought that she wanted to make music with us. Evidently, I guessed right about her wishes, but wrong about her intentions. Still, it is clear that we did the right thing for our human. This reassures me; I know that, if she needs our help in the future, I can probably guess what she wants, so we can help her. There will be other opportunities to sing. This place seems to be full of humans who make music.

Of course, our human makes the finest music of all.

Part 6: Singing

This is, indeed, a very musical place. All of the humans sing or play instruments, making noises that are more or less pleasant, depending on the humans. We fit in well here.

Our human visits another human, a large one who does not move. He has great authority and he is curious about us. He calls in the smallest human, the one who has mind-pictures of wanting to feed us. He begins to sing. I like this small human; his singing sounds are clear, high, and accurate. Our human and the large human also send mind-pictures of being pleased at his singing.

Then our human's mind-picture changes. She wants us to sing with the small human. His voice is much higher than the voices I am accustomed to. Yesterday, the large human did not want us to sing in his room. I need a moment to figure this out.

Before I reach any kind of decision, my bronzes join the song. I am the leader of this fair. I do not recall giving them permission to sing! I start to tell them exactly what I think of their impudence… but our human's mind-picture stops me. She is pleased that the bronzes are singing. Well, if their singing is good, then all of us singing will be better. I sit on our human's shoulder and rest a forefoot on her ear. This is how I will tell her to listen.

Then I find a place in the song and join the music. The browns follow my example after a moment. I sense that the sounds made by the humans are not pure music, but they are communicating something to each other by their changes in sound. No matter; I will not hold this musical impurity against them. It is enough that we sing well, and that some of the humans sing almost as well as we do.

When we are done, the small human pets one of the bronzes. Am I surrounded by impudence? Who does this small one think he is – our own human? But the bronze is not proud; he allows himself to be petted. I will have words with him later, and I will have to keep an eye on this small human who thinks himself worthy to pet us.

But now it is mealtime, and the small one helps to feed us. Perhaps he has his uses.

Another day has come. Our human has been making her music with three other humans. She is very, very happy about this, even though we did not join in the song. This puzzles me for a while, until I come to a startling conclusion.

I had always assumed that our human loved us because we sang for her. There was never any question that she liked our singing and encouraged us to sing. But now I see the truth. She loves music, and she loves us, for completely different reasons. Our singing does not make her love us more. She would love us the same if we never sang again.

In a way, this is sad. Our singing is not as important to her as I thought it was. But it is also liberating. We do not have to earn our human's love. She gives it freely and unconditionally. If a piece of silver thread hit my throat tomorrow and ruined my singing voice, she would still be my human.

This means that we do not have to sing out of obligation. We can sing for the sheer joy of it. I think our human sings and plays for much the same reason.

We join her in the place where the humans eat, perching out of everyone's way. It is odd that I should think about silver threads. I have not seen… but they are close now. I can feel it in my bones. The others respond as well. Our nature demands that we fight the terrible threads, but our love for our human keeps us near her. This contradiction upsets all of us. We stay inside the human place, but our bodies act out the endless battle against the threads.

The humans begin to sing. How can they sing at a time like this? I let out some high-pitched notes, of the sort that seems to hurt the humans' ears, telling them to be sensible and serious when the silver threads are falling. They do not get the message. Instead, they drown me out as more and more of them join the singing. They accompany themselves with stamping of their feet, a sound that we cannot duplicate.

Well, if singing is inevitable, then we will do it correctly. We join in their song, and we sense many mind-pictures approving of our contribution. None of them are afraid of the silver threads. Perhaps this human-made place is safe. If this is so, then we can give ourselves over to the music without holding back.

Another song begins, and our human takes control of it. This is a much longer song with many parts. It sounds sad. The human voices rise and fall; they dart in and out of the music. This is a challenge for us, but our human has trained us well. At the end, she motions for all the humans to fall silent, and gives us the honor of singing the final notes.

There is silence. Everyone is looking at us. I know that we have done well. We have brought credit to our human, too. If we cannot fight the silver threads, then making our human look good is an acceptable substitute.

Part 7: Alone

Something is wrong.

It is nighttime. We should be asleep, but we are all awake. Our human slowly awakens as well. I try to communicate my unease to her, but she does not understand. I cannot blame her for this; I do not fully understand the problem myself. But something is about to go very, very wrong, and we cannot stop it.

We seek comfort next to our human. We surround her with ourselves. She is large and she is wise; perhaps she can stop whatever is about to happen. But she still does not understand. I search my mind for a mind-picture to share with her, but I can find nothing specific.

And then, in a moment, it becomes clear. Gray! Hot! Suffocating! Storms! Deadly! We know the source of those pictures. Suddenly, she knows as well. Her fear rises, a mirror image of our own fear. Other humans are becoming disturbed around us. Someone on a dragon has tried to go to the –

"DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE!"

The thoughts are human thoughts, and for the first time, we can understand them. They are not our human's thoughts. They are the thoughts of the one who can speak to all the dragons and hear them. She is the one who lost her dragon, the one whose bronze fire lizard saved her from trying to befriend a second dragon. Now she may lose everything. She feels the fear of impending death.

We fly out the window. The silly blue and the greens do not understand; I order them to follow us. The great golden dragon has called all the dragons, and we will go as well. I don't know what we can do, but there must be something! We go between and emerge in the faraway dragons' place.

The huge brown one reappears high above us and falls inertly. The great gold dragon gives orders; the other dragons catch him somehow and bring him safely to the ground. His rider is nine-tenths not alive. His mate is trying to breathe for him. We fly around for several minutes, but there is nothing we can do here; we must comfort our own human. She is afraid. We return to her place. Just before we leave, we sense mind-pictures of great relief. The human is breathing again. He and his dragon will not die.

We return to our human. Others are near her. She wants to know something from us. "Everything is all right now," I tell her. She does not like this answer, so I show her the mind-picture of the place where we just went. She asks something else again. For a moment, she gives me the mind-picture of the hot gray death place. Do not speak to me of that terrible place! I leave her arm immediately; I fear that my claws left a mark on her. I try to explain, showing her the picture of the dragon falling from the sky. She sees it, but she does not understand. Our inability to speak the same language is hideously frustrating.

Slowly, our human's fear subsides. She makes her sounds to the other humans, and this seems to be a good thing. The others eventually leave, and our human returns to sleep.

The human who hears the dragons will not be alone. That is good news. But what really matters is that our human will not be alone, either. I will see to that.

Part 8: Protection

This is a happy day; all the humans' mind-pictures are filled with excitement and anticipation. Some of them are thinking about food, and I can understand that. Others are planning to sing, play, and dance, and I can understand that as well. Then there are the ones who are planning to acquire new things to wear. Some are going to give up the musical instruments they made, and get wooden circles in exchange. I do not understand those things at all. But they are humans, and I already knew that they are strange. We will learn to live with them.

I ride on our human's shoulder, as is my right, as she joins the huge gathering of humans. The small human who sings well goes with her. The rest of my fair are sunning themselves on the roof of the human place. I would love to sun myself with them. But our human is going to someplace new, and she is not fully at ease, so I must go with her. I will boldly go where no fire lizard has gone before.

At first, everything seems peaceful. Our human gets some food; that is always a good decision. Then she sees something human-made that she wants. Her mind-picture shows something that looks like one of us, so it is only right that she should get it. Her small friend tries to help her acquire it. And then… one of those bad humans shows up.

I come fully alert, but my human does not notice me. She tries to avoid the problems that the bad human has in mind (that one's mind-pictures are brutally obvious). When the fight starts, I am not taken by surprise.

"Join me at once!" I order my fair. "We must protect our human!" They need no second summons, and they know exactly where we are.

Our kind do not like fighting. We would rather eat, fly, and sleep our days away. But we have claws and we know how to use them against predators, like the long tunneling ones and the big feathered flyers. Now the most important human in the world is being attacked by bad humans. These bad humans are not small and elusive like the long tunneling ones, and they do not have tough hides like the big feathered flyers. We know what to do. And we do it! Swiftly, fiercely, and loudly, we defend our human!

By the time the authority-human stops the fight, we have made multiple marks on all the bad humans, especially the one with the unpleasant voice who started it all. Other humans tried to come to her aid, and we have left our marks on them as well. I hope they have learned a lesson about what happens when bad humans cause problems for the most wonderful human. Our human seems unharmed, and that is good. We arrived just in time.

The mind-pictures around us are confusing. Some of the humans are glad that we intervened; others are angry at us; a few wish that we had not hurt so many people. The authority-human is mostly concerned about the newly-hatched bronze on his arm. (That one looks like he will be a finely-formed specimen, and he is not close kin of mine. Once he is grown, I will keep an eye on him. I could do worse when I come into season.) He quickly sends all the bad humans away, and comforts the good ones. I wonder at how he can tell the bad ones from the good ones at a glance. Does he know all these people? Then I realize – all the bad humans are scratched and bleeding, thanks to the tender attentions of my friends and I. We marked the bad ones, and he trusts our judgment. We did not merely protect our own human; we have helped the authority-human!

Perhaps he will give us some food in return.

Part 9: Promotion

Our human has been reserved ever since that day when we fought to protect her. She fears something. That something, whatever it is, has not happened yet. All the other humans are being very kind to her, except for a handful of the bad ones, and those bad ones have not dared to lift a finger against her. Those are the smart ones who have learned their lesson. Still, our human fears that something bad is going to happen.

We try to stay close to her, just in case she needs us to protect her again. Her mind-picture shows that she is in the humans' eating place. She sits with her companions. Some of those companions like her; others wish they could be like her; one or two of them are bad, but my human is not afraid of them anymore. On the other side of the room is the place where the better human singers eat, and at the far end is where the authority-human and his friends take their food. We have been in this room before; we know it well.

There is a deep musical sound, and everyone stops talking. (I wish I could make the others of my kind stop talking that easily.) The authority-human rises and begins to speak. Everyone is listening intently to his words. Our human is sending continuous mind-pictures, so it is as if we were there watching this scene. I do not know why it is so important, but our human may be a better judge of those things.

Then two of the better singers approach our human. She does not know what is happening. They are both bigger than she is. I sense no hostility, but I prepare my fair for a quick flight into the humans' eating room, so we will be ready if our human needs us.

The other humans are all making a sound like, "Wokmenolly wok!" I do not understand human words, of course, but it is unnerving that they are all saying it. It is not music. They get louder with each repetition. I am growing more concerned.

…and then my human's attitude completely changes. She is filled with joy, even more joy than the day when we brought her the pipes. She is no longer afraid. And she is walking to the tables where the better singers eat. This, I can understand! They have finally recognized how wonderful she is, and they are welcoming her to the place of honor that she deserves!

We need to celebrate with her. I call the fair, and we sweep in through the open windows – not with rage and bared claws, but with songs of happiness. There is nothing and no one for her to fear now. She has been taken to the better tables. Somehow I sense that my fair and I had some small role to play in this. But this is her moment, not ours. In this place of music, we sing out the joy that our human is feeling.

Everything is wonderful now.