The tour wasn't entirely bad. Deborah choose to skim briefly over the more crowded levels, describing rather than pointing out the different vendors, hot spots, perks, and eateries. She was a veritable fount of useless information about it all, which Anova stored away carefully, all the while grateful she didn't have to endure actually visiting all the places described and having to navigate through the crowds to get to them. Though it was fascinating in the abstract to think about the upkeep and economics of such a massive, busy space station, being confronted with the physical reality of it was not Anova's idea of a good time.

Though they walked into lifts and elevators numerous times to get from deck to deck-- Anova's chair was capable of navigating stairs, but it seemed that either the station had none, or Deborah was taking no chances-- the time spent in them was minimal. They simply sped around more quickly than one anticipated, or even realized when one was in them. Anova had to admit to herself that the technology of the place was astounding, and rather pleasant. If she could, she'd have to find ways to replicate a few of the amenities-- the recycled air, for instance, was a much more efficient method than the mechanisms her own small manor used-- once she and 'Mint returned to Chytonia.

That, however, was the one thing Anova found lacking in their hostess. She was considerate, she was polite, she was knowledgeable-- but her eyes kept straying to Terramintin, and at the same time a corner of her mouth would quirk in something that might have been smug, might have been condescending, might have been proprietary, or might have been all three. She was friendly and warm towards Anova herself-- almost to the point of making Anova suspicious, more than once-- but was both off-handed and even slightly flirtatious with Anova's brother. Even if she had been a perfect angel otherwise-- which, in fact, she annoyingly seemed to be-- flirting with 'Mint was enough to make her despise the woman.

Currently they were in one of the lifts, heading down to the lowest, or most outer or something like that, deck of the city-station. "We're heading down to the flight deck now," Deborah said, smiling as if to herself-- as if she expected them to be impressed by what they saw. "And then the hatching bays. Three of the five bays are full, now, too."

Mint frowned faintly as he tried to puzzle out what either of those two things could be, though one of them made him more curious than the other. "Hatching bays?"

"Yes, hatching bays," Deborah said with another of those annoying smiles, as if pleased to hear interest. "Certainly you've noticed, my lord, that a sizable portion of Star City's citizens are dragons. Though some choose to clutch and hatch their young themselves, in their own lairs on the decks of the station reserved just for their kind, many prefer to make use of the hatching bays. We have three clutches hardening in the bays just now, waiting for potential bonders."

Dragons? What dragons? Anova had been so focused on her dislike of their beautiful tour guide and her own discomfort with the all-too-close crowds, that she simply hadn't been paying attention to what those crowds had been composed of. As she let her memory roll back, however, she could vaguely remember seeing large, dragon-like shapes towering over the smaller species. At the time, she had given them no thought, consigning them to the categories in her mind for chyriths and mazdivs. The thought that they might have been actual dragons was a little startling.

Despite her usual iron control of her own expression, Deborah seemed to have picked up her surprise, for she turned a more sympathetic smile on her. "I know," she continued, "given what Chytonian dragons are like, I can understand that you must not be used to dragons being part of civilized company, much less actually linking mind-to-mind when they are young. It is very common here, however. My mother, in fact, is bonded to a very friendly dragon named Beod."

As an aside, Deborah smiled again, and admitted, "My father had me read up a little on Chytonia when he thought I might be meeting you." A little, Anova mused sourly, It must have been more than a little, for all she seems to know about us. She had even managed to forestall the rather obvious question "What are potential bonders?" smoothly, without the embarrassment of having to actually ask.

"Why do the dragons make these 'bonds'?" 'Mint asked curiously, and not at all self-consciously. Anova, who had only vaguely wondered-- it didn't exactly pertain to the reason why she was here, after all-- glanced over at him, curious, herself. Was he taking an interest because he was interested, or just because he liked to know things? "What's the purpose in it?" he added.

"A good question," Deborah answered, this time without the irritating smile. The lift doors slid open, and she lead the way out into a long hallway of a deck. Anova's chair drifted easily along beside her as she walked. "Many species of dragon require a psionic bond with another being, whether another dragon, a human, or something else entirely, in order for their minds to be fully stable. I'd offer a more detailed explanation, but I'm afraid that's not something I've studied. I just know that many dragons, if they do not bond at birth, do not survive much beyond their first day out of the shell-- if they even survive their first hour."

"A fascinating species," Anova murmured: an appropriate response, more than anything. She didn't like the thought of a species that needed another to survive, in such a blatant fashion. True, every living thing had to have *some* kind of connection to another for health and stability, but something like a direct mind to mind link just felt... parasitic, almost.

"It certainly is interesting," Deborah agreed with the comment, if not the intent behind it. "The clutches are fairly close to hatching-- or, the Wyld lady Teset's is close. The others still have a month or two, I believe. Interested?" She arched a meaningful brow at Anova, completely ignoring 'Mint for once, and though it was difficult, Anova managed to not look rattled by the question.

"Ah, no, thank you," she said. "I'm afraid someone like myself... well, it might not be wise, for me or for a hypothetical dragon."

:Oh, you don't know that,: came an amused mind-voice from close ahead. The three had stopped, and one of the city's dragons came padding up to the little group, teeth bared despite the friendly tone of its thoughts. It took a long moment for Anova to realize it was smiling, and to close her mouth again. It took 'Mint longer, for before Anova had quite realized what the dragon, he had interposed himself between her chair and said dragon.

"Oh, hello," Deborah said with a smile for the massive beast. "Lady Anovadiell, lord Terramintin, this is Aedelian Landwerlen. He's one of the visiting dragons from another world."

At that, 'Mint backed up, and to cover for his mistake gave the dragon-- Aedelian?-- another of his courtly bows. Anova, somewhat flustered, just nodded. She couldn't exactly curtsey, anyway, given that she wasn't standing. A rumbling, rolling sort of sound filled the deck, and the dragon's mouth gaped open just a little. Anova blinked, realizing that the dragon was laughing. Such a mundane-- if somewhat amplified-- sound broke through her stupor, and she felt stirrings of indignation. How dare it laugh at her--

:Oh, I like you!: the cheerful mind-voice said again, interrupting her thoughts before she could get herself truly worked into irritation. The words weren't even directed at her, but rather at her brother... and somehow, their amiability diffused her anger before it even got started. :Titanic, am I? Oh dear, but you should see an Earth dragon. Or some of those... oh, what are they-- Pern dragons. They're much bigger.:

Anova blinked, then looked to 'Mint. Neither one of them had said any such thing....

"Aedeliean," Deborah said with a wry smile, "has a rather nasty habit of peeking into other people's heads. Sometimes even through mind-shields, unless they're particularly powerful."

:It is not nasty,: Aedelian protested good-naturedly. :People never say what they mean; it's only fair that someone get to see what is really going on. By the way, that was a sweet thought, young man, to protect the young lady from me, but I promise, I wouldn't hurt a flit, much less someone who could talk back.:

Anova felt her cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. Friendly or not, this dragon was... was... rude! Peeking in people's heads, and then talking about it? One vividly green-blue eye fixed on her a moment, and her mind filled with amusement not her own-- but which again neatly nipped her more negative feelings in the bud, leaving her feeling oddly empty. :Sorry,: she heard, for her own "ears" alone. :Can't help what I am, my dear.: Then the feeling of "presence" was gone, and the dragon looked back to 'Mint, smiling in a carefully less threatening manner and sending more publicly, :My, my, what a polite bow! Deserves something special, in return, I'd expect. I can't quite manage a bow, but....: The dragon suddenly dropped his forequarters down, folding one paw to his chest, and fanned his pale, silvery wings magnificently. Anova couldn't help but be impressed despite herself, and from her brother's somewhat flummoxed expression, he didn't know what to think, either.

As if he'd sensed it was time to take his leave, the dragon rose again with just as much grace as he'd ducked down, refolding his wings against his sides. :Well, I do believe I've done quite enough damage to dragonic reputation for one day,: his mental words rang cheerfully. :I'll make myself scarce so Deb can repair it. Besides, I think I need a bath....:

And, with that rather inappropriately intimate comment, the dragon Aedelian wandered passed them, humming to himself, with his decidedly odd, spade-like tail waving like a silver banner behind him. Anova blinked after him, and dimly registered Deborah chuckling. "I promise, not all dragons are as... ah... rude, as he is. I should have you meet Beod, he's a perfect gentleman, for all he swears he's just a simple soul."

Drawing her attention back where it belonged, Anova focused again on the young lady. So far, this place hadn't made any particularly good impressions on her: flirtatious women, uncouth dragons, crowds nearly everywhere.... She just hoped that Deborah's father and his opportunities made up for it, or she would just have to make sure she didn't accept any other business offers here, unless they were willing to come to her to make their deals.

"I'm afraid we might have to save that honor for another time," she said, putting a hand to her temple. "If there is a room prepared, I believe I should seek it... The travel was wearying...." She felt 'Mint's hand coming to her shoulder, and she covered it with one of her own, trying to transmit reassurance and gratitude with the touch, though her own inherited telepathic abilities were sketchy at best.

As hoped, Deborah was instantly contrite. "Oh, I'm sorry. You should have said something earlier. Of course there are rooms ready. Come this way, I'll take you to them."

And they moved off towards the lift again, Anova congratulating herself on her smooth escape and looking forward to having some time alone with 'Mint to complain about Deborah's shocking behavior.

Chapter Three

Read from Terramintin's Perspective

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