He pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his neck and blinking in the thin dawn light. Freefall was still tucked in the same resting pose he'd been in when David closed his eyes, but neither Stratus nor Romana were where they had been.
For a moment - just a moment - he had the thought that maybe she'd abandoned him there, alone, with an injured skybax and no intention of coming back. The idea left him with a sick feeling of betrayal that was stronger than he expected.
Panicking twice in under a minute. A new record.
It was all for nothing, though; the rising sun highlighted Stratus' wings in the far distance, and as soon as David looked in that direction, he saw Romana sitting on the mesa's edge, staring after her skybax partner.
He stood, automatically folding the blanket and stowing it in its place in his saddle, and stretched his shoulders and neck. Sleeping on hard, unforgiving ground sucked beyond belief.
The wind gusted, almost carrying away Freefall's sleepy good-morning croak. David rubbed his beak and checked his wing, to see if they'd missed something in the twilight. There was nothing, although Freefall was moving a little stiffly. David gave his beak a final pat and decided to go check on Romana.
She was lost in thought, obviously, because she didn't hear him approaching. He hesitated a moment, caught between the omnipresent fear of the yawning chasm just a few feet away and the desire to sit down and keep their conversation going. Fear won out and he stopped just behind her, not sitting down. He watched her, then asked softly, "What are you thinking?"
She started a little, but covered it quickly, speaking in a clipped, businesslike tone. "I was thinking that if we're not rescued today, we should plan on departing tonight. We can leave most of the water here - Freefall will need more water than we do, or his wings will become dry and fragile - and as long as we keep a torch lit, the rescue party should be able to see us."
He knew about the skybax's wings, of course, and felt a twinge of irritation at the casual way she was lecturing him. "No, I meant... What were you really thinking?"
She didn't say anything for a moment, but looked down at the cliff edge.
"I know it's none of my concern," he said, feeling beyond awkward, "but... Nevermind."
"I was thinking about my mother," she said in that same businesslike tone, almost before the word had left his mouth. "She was a skybax rider; one of the best, compared to Gideon Altaire for the ease with which she flew. She and my father used to fly together whenever they could. People have told me that their flights were beautiful, like a dance in the clouds. Oonu remembers seeing them, even though he was barely a toddler at the time."
Romana paused, staring off into the distance, and when she spoke again her voice had lost its brisk coolness and he could hear a slight waver, as though she was going to cry. "But very few others remember Sylvia Romano, because she was eclipsed by William Denison - not in his eyes, never, but in everyone else's. And I am afraid, David Scott, I'm afraid that I will share more than my mother's name, and my own career will be hidden in the shadows of my wingman."
"But you're better than me," he said, without thinking.
"But you're a dolphinback. Don't you see? Only a handful of dolphinbacks have ever become skybax riders, and only one has become a hero in their own time. How can I compete with that? Me, an ordinary Dinotopian girl, who grew up with the cliffs at her feet and a skybax for a playmate?"He spread his hands out in helpless frustration. "What do you want me to do - quit the Corps? I can't change what I am!"
"No," she said, digging her hands in to the dirt. "I don't know what you should do or what I should do - that's why I didn't want to tell you!"
Freefall squawked anxiously behind them, distressed by the loud voices, and David heard the flap of wings.
She stood up abruptly and walked away, brushing orange sand from her hands as she went and kicking up little puffs of dust.
David exhaled sharply, still frustrated, and shook his head. What the hell were they going to do? If they lived to get back to civilization. He wasn't going to leave the Corps, and it didn't seem fair to make Romana leave either. The only other option was to take the matter to Oonu and the other instructors. But he already knew how that would turn out, because he was a hero, however much he was reluctant to claim the title - and a prodigy, too, if Romana was telling the truth.
But she always told the truth, didn't she? And she never joked about anything, and she was infinitely more infuriating than her cousin.
With a start, he realized this was why she'd been acting so strange - not because of that tense meeting with Marion, but because she didn't want to be forgotten. No wonder she hadn't said anything; it wasn't quite jealousy, but it was close enough to make people talk. The daughter of Willaim Denison - and Sylvia Romano, he amended - suffering from self-doubt and jealousy? Unthinkable. Better to go down as having a personality conflict, which was shameful, but in the end, less so than the alternative. Especially in the light of her estranged cousin's high status.That made David wonder what Marion was doing, and what Karl was doing, and if they were doing those things within ten feet of each other. Strangely, the thought caused him less distress than usual. Maybe because he had bigger things to worry about - like getting out of here alive.
He kicked a rock over the edge of the mesa, watching it arc down and ignoring the swirl of vertigo it caused. Then he went to see what he had in his saddlebags for breakfast.