Yarrow was checking glows later when Mink came to bother her. Sure enough: "Rider B'nick wants to see you," he signed slowly. Normally Yarrow would have run.

It had been a pretty boring day, after Fall. When their Harper felt they'd had enough of the scene, and had had it drilled into their heads yet again that even though the grubs ate just about every trace of the parasite that made it to ground, it was still not advisable to go outside during Fall. And furthermore, he'd added, they needed to honor the Riders who tried to keep the grubs from having too much work to do.

...Which had sparked another argument between uncles and so on about whether the Riders were useful or not anymore, which meant Undabran had pulled out his lyre and done Moreta's Ride for them, to remind them of just what a Dragonrider was good for aside from "just" killing off parasites. Yarrow knew all the words to the song, and sort of knew how to hum it, though she durst not do that around her relatives. It was bad enough having to sit next to her aunt while the ballad went on, with the finger pointing forcibly at the page so Yarrow "could read it, and maybe understand it a little..."

That had kept Yarrow from doing the glows for a little bit -- which didn't please her much. It was a pleasant task, actually; what her relatives called "chores", which meant anything that made Mink screw up his nose, was nice to Yarrow: she liked the patterns. It was Yarrow's duty to sweep the fireplace, check the glows and change them when they needed changing -- a task nobody liked -- and write in the log. Nobody outside their little hold knew that she did the latter; it was the duty of the Lord of the Hold to know his letters, and somehow Hannin had let that past him. Hannin had in fact somehow slipped it past the old Harper, Sanetor, for two years, before they'd even gotten there, and when Undabran had come the Holder had just said something like he was "so busy, and well Yarrow needed something to do, poor thing..."

Now, Yarrow pursed her lips in frustration. It wasn't that she didn't want to see B'nick and Visigoth, but --

We understand! the thought charged into the girl's mind, and she felt calmer. That was the thing with talking to Dragons, Yarrow had found years ago; they understood things. And so do Riders! she felt from B'nick. Take your time. We're staying a couple days at the least.

Yarrow signed to Mink after a moment's thought, that she wanted to go, but she needed to finish her duty with the glows. He signed back, rolling his eyes, that he didn't understand her; he'd much rather talk to the Dragonrider. But he went away, before his mother could catch him and wrangle him into helping Yarrow like she sometimes did.

Left all alone, Yarrow started humming to herself again. She could feel the vibrations in her eardrums, and she took her time glow after glow. The baskets were of rough material, the glows ever so slightly warm to the touch. They varied a tiny bit in color, she'd found a while before this, if you looked close enough -- they reminded of a toy she'd once been given when she was a little girl, that was called a "dragon's eye." Yarrow didn't understand what that meant at the time, but the various facets that constantly changed color had remained burned into her brain forever afterward. Glows were, to her, a different version of that -- just like Visigoth's or any other real dragon's eyes were a different version.

She grinned: she'd been humming Moreta's Ride. Oh, if Aunt Petia heard her now!

Glow, glow, glow... Yarrow swept the stairs as she went, for good measure. She thought of the Hold as a hexagon, divided into shapes that were little hexagons. There was the Great Hall, there was the Grand Stairway, there were her relatives' rooms, there the watchtower with its great drum that only went off when some news was going on -- in other words, this was not common.

Could you come now? a voice that could only be B'nick asked plaintively in her head. Your aunt is trying to force-feed me pie...

* * *

That was an emergency, then! Yarrow knew how bad her aunt's cooking could be. She abandoned all thought of going to her cousin's room to tidy it up some for him, and dashed away to the Inner Hall, where she sensed they were.

The Inner Hall was decked out with things for the winter; last Gather they'd gotten a massive amount of cloth that her aunt had never gotten to sewing into anything, and so it had all been tucked away in here. The conversation Yarrow had with herself on the matter had been something like "Well, I could make myself a new dress with it...." "No, they think you can't sew, so they'd take it away from you." "But I can do it -- look at this yellow!"

...and so on. And, since nobody but the Lady of the Hold was allowed to give permission to do such things, nobody else had picked up a needle and thread and gone to work at the fabric. It was destined to mold and wither away, Yarrow decided sadly, seeing it again as she returned to the Hall.

B'nick bolted out of his seat when he saw Yarrow, and for her aunt's sake started signing to her in rapid fingerings, about this and that and whatever. It was really just babble, to get rid of the woman -- and it worked, like it always did. With that irritatingly polite smile on her face, Petia nodded to Yarrow and left the room.

Thank all the shells, she's gone -- do you know how bad that porridge is?

I've had to eat it!

Oh, you poor thing! I feel so unbelievably sorry for you!

Yarrow hugged the muscular Greenrider. He felt nice and -- well he felt "friend," to her, in a way that nobody here at the Hold did. He feels good, Visigoth sent. Yes, he felt good.

I think your aunt is trying to convince me to -- ah -- take you away.

You don't want to, Yarrow sent back, with a sigh. She often wished it would happen, though she knew -- well something was different.

Yes, something's different, her friend sent with a wry smile. Otherwise, believe me I'd do it.

He was uncomfortable now, she could tell; B'nick had shifted in his seat, and he was pursing his lips, and he was turning a little reddish. So Yarrow decided to change the subject.

What is it you brought for me, anyway? she asked and was greeted with a flood of relief.

C'mon; Visigoth says she wants to see you and get a hug.

The green was gorgeous as always. Yarrow stood staring for a long while, admiring how the sunlight reflected off the scale-like hide, that somehow seemed always to her to shimmer, twinkling in the shade, becoming many colors all in one. She walked from the tip of his tail to the neck, and giggled as he nuzzled her with his dainty snout. You are lovely as ever, she sent to him and got warm feelings of love back.

Meanwhile, B'nick was digging in his pack, and he pulled out a small drum. I talked with Master Oldive up at the Healing Hall, and he says you can probably sense vibrations if you can hear us, he sent, showing it to her. So I thought, well, it might be a good thing for you -- something to do -- when you aren't doing drudge work around the Hall. Something more befitting of the daughter of a former Harper.

She thought a minute about telling him and Visigoth about her humming, and trying to speak, and then she thought better of it. They might tell others who'd get back to my aunt and uncle...

Thanks, she sent instead.

* * *

Sure enough, it happened. "Why did he give you that," Mink signed to Yarrow when she showed him the drum. Of all the people at the Hold, she would have thought he'd at least understand a little bit. She vibrated her hands near her head to show that she could sense vibrations, a thing she'd told him before, but he still didn't seem to get it. He just rolled his eyes.

Yarrow took the drum to Undabran, then, after nooning. He sent an exclamation, eyes wide, and then signed asking if she could play it. When she shook her head, he signed that he could teach her, but she'd have done better off to go back with that Greenrider -- yes, he knew what they were better than she did -- to the Harper Hall, to learn from a real Drum-master.

Yarrow shook her head at this. She pointed to the watchtower, which was so often silent, and signed that she wanted to work there.

The Harper frowned. He hummed at her then, questioning with a tip of his head.

Yarrow sighed and nodded. I really can't keep secrets from you, can I? she thought, remembering her father's old saying about how impossible it was to keep a secret from a Harper.

The man she now faced grinned.

"This will be very helpful," he signed to her cryptically.

Yarrow groaned; why did Harpers have to be so secretive?

Undabran made the sign for "T", which she was sure meant Toric... That again! she thought impatiently. Why is everyone so worried about him?

The Harper seemed to sense her irritation, and he took her hands in his and squeezed them, with that look on his face that all grownups got when they wanted you to "wait till you're older." But in this case, Yarrow could tell there was a slight difference.

"Why him?" she signed forcibly.

Undabran signed back that "the green" was her helper in this. That must mean B'nick. So, I got the drum for a reason, then, she thought, and felt a tinge of disappointment, though she couldn't tell why. "Learn the drum well," was all the Harper would add to that. Vehemently.

* * *

Over time, Yarrow worked at drumming. Hannin and Petia thought this a ridiculous waste of time for the Harper, but they couldn't say anything more about it.

Maybe if I learn to drum well enough, she thought, he'll tell me why I need to learn it so badly and what my parents were doing here... and then I can leave! She'd tried to run away once when her mother died, but her "aunt" had dragged her back and she was beaten for the first time in her life. Maybe then I can go to the Harper Hall and be trained as a drummer... She didn't have the skills to do whatever else her parents had intended down here, she was sure of that.

She learned to tap her fingers to create vibrations in different ways, to make beats for songs, and to do little codes. Yarrow loved that; she already knew a bit about code from signing, and so she learned drum-code fast. She would tap out a code along the walls as she changed glows or made beds, she would dance to a drum that beat in her mind when she was all alone, she would play her drum as often as she could.

"THIS -- IS -- RID-I-CU-LOUS!" Hannin said to her one day in spring, when Yarrow had been tapping at her drum all morning.

She pointed to the drum, and the scroll that Undebran had given her, showing she was supposed to practice it -- she pointed up toward the watchtower.

"YOU -- CANNOT -- PLAY -- THAT," her uncle was clearly yelling. "YOU -- ARE -- NOT -- THINKING -- CLEARLY!"

Yarrow pushed the fat man away and stood up with hands on hips. "I am going to be a drummer," she signed, "and for once I do not care if you understand me or not!"

He growled at her and stomped out of the room.

That was not the end of it, though. An hour later, Mink came to her. "He's mad," her cousin signed. "I hate it when he's mad. Why did you get him mad?"

She signed to him that it wasn't her fault, but Mink shook his head.

Petia came later, and made Yarrow look at her. "I know B'nick had good intentions," she told Yarrow slowly, "but this is not something you can do. Clearly. It's sound -- and you are deaf! Do you understand?"

Yarrow shook her head, and tried to show her aunt that she could indeed play, but was told the same thing.

"In a sevenday old Acorn will be coming by with his trader cart," the woman told her, "and I'm going to give you to him. He's asked for you before, you see. You're a good worker, Yarrow, but we can't keep you here any longer. And the Dragonrider is clearly leading you on. I have it on good authority that Greenriders do not marry! Shells know what he would have done with you. But Acorn can give you a good life, and you'll have a trade."

Yarrow shook her head vehemently, pointing firmly to the drum she'd been at.

"I feel bad for you, dear, not understanding that this is not possible," Petia said and rolled her eyes sadly. "But you'll soon forget this, when you become a busy mate. I wish you could hear me...!"

She went on and on, and Yarrow groaned inwardly. I hear more than you ever will, she thought miserably. I'm being passed off, an unwanted relative. I'm meaningless...

She went to see Undebran that eve, after supper, once she had spent an hour checking glows and tapping on the walls. The Harper did not look surprised to see her. "I know," he signed with a touch to his head. "I wish I could do something. Send you to Cove Hold, or something like that. But you aren't my apprentice, and I cannot just give you to the Harpers without them having a reason to believe in you. Even Menolly had that." He knew that Menolly was Yarrow's heroine.

Yarrow waved her arms frantically, signing that she just could not do this! She was going to be a drummer, and make her parents proud.

The Harper took her hands and made her look at him. "They are proud," he said firmly to her.

Yarrow went out for a walk as the Dawn Sisters rose. Even though she knew what they were, it didn't make their beauty any different to the girl. I'm only sixteen Turns old, she told them; surely that's too young to be someone's mate?

She blinked, feeling the dolphins' vibrations nearby. Come play! Come play! they cried, their whistles sharp in Yarrow's ears. She realized she was down by the Bay... wasn't there a half-abandoned shack here, that someone had the nerve to insist was a holding? Come play!

No, don't do that, came the Dragon's message just as Yarrow was seriously starting to think of running. A different Dragon than the one she knew. I'm F'lessan, came the new message. Oh. F''lessan was the Dragonrider/Holder to the west of Southern. If you can hear dragons...

No, she is a little different on that account, the Dragon argued.

I'm deaf, Yarrow sent to confirm that.

She waited a minute.

So?

Come play! cried the dolphins in Yarrow's mind.

Then, all of a sudden, it came barreling into her brain like a herd of Runners stampeding: Whatever happens, you need to stay at that Hold! That was B'nick and Visigoth in unison. Yarrow knew dragons talked to one another like she talked to them, but she still didn't understand this.

Why? she demanded, stamping her foot in the sand. What's so important? My parents came here and died here!

We know, came a sensation that was like several voices at once. We are sorry for that. But you must stay; you are inconspicuous because of who you are. You were given that drum for a reason, Yarrow. Look inside it.

She took the drum off her shoulder and found a slit that had been concealed in the side of it, one so thin as to not disrupt the sound that was coming from the instrument, she guessed. An excited thrill ran through her: Harper secrets! By working her finger inside, she managed to pull out a small scroll of wherhide:

My dear

If you have gotten this, one or both of us is dead. Keep the drum with you always -- do not let anyone take it! Harper can teach you the basics. You will need to know them soon.

I know we did not tell you much about it all; know we love you. Talk to the Green and others like it. Always remember others like it!

Remember who -- and what -- you are.

Love

Yarrow sat for a long time on the beach before heading back to the Hold. She slid the scroll back into the drum, as inconspicuous as before.