“And let the dragon die?” Nian was appalled.
A weyrperson approached them proffering damp towels, one of which the Weyrwoman pressed to the nape of Nian’s neck. Nian gasped at the cold feel of it. With her other hand, the Weyrwoman used the other cloth to mop the blood off Nian’s face and smeared some numbweed on the bridge of her nose. Embarrassed at being tended by the Weyrwoman herself, Nian gently took the cloth and finished mopping her nose and face. And someone else handed her a second bowl of meat.
I am still hungry, Nian, if you don’t mind, Quinth told her in no uncertain tones, crossing in front of her. I am sorry I made your nose bleed.
A wave of love washed over Nian and she turned adoring eyes on her new lifelong partner. Oh, sorry my love, I forgot! And she shoved a larger than usual handful at her queen.
Quinth butted Nian, a nudge that would have been strong enough to make the girl lose her balance if Quinth had not immediately stepped in front of her to prevent her from falling.
A Hatchling must break his own shell? she asked her dragon.
It shows the strength of the dragon within, Quinth informed her.
How do you know that? You’re only just hatched yourself.
There are things dragons know instinctively about other dragons, Quinth replied with a faint reproof in her mental tone.
But my brother has to Impress, Nian said in almost a moan, her eyes on the shell of the egg beside her brother, who was stroking the casing and urging its occupant to try again.
It is as hungry as I was, Quinth told Nian. It only needs food.
Tell the Weyrwoman so we can break its shell for Neru.
There are some things one must do for one’s self, Quinth replied. I made it and I was hungry. I am still hungry.
As Nian scraped another handful of meat out of the bowl, nearly the last, she had a sudden, decisive idea.
“Well, I’ll need more food for you then, you splendid bottomless pit,” she said aloud and saw that their way to the entrance of the Hatching Ground lay past Neru and the cracked but as yet unbroken shell. “Let’s go that way,” and she nudged Quinth slightly to one side so they would pass right by the egg in a few steps. As they drew closer, Nian turned to her dragon with beseeching eyes.
Now, Quinth dear queen, can you trip me up again as we pass by?
Trip you up? Why should I do that? You bleed!
Just trip me, Nian repeated, slowing her steps so that she would not pass by her objective.
What a strange thing you ask me to do, Quinth replied.
You had no trouble doing it before. Do it now!
Quinth did so with such energy and precision that Nian fell right across the top of the egg, the heavy bowl in her hands smashing through the eggshell. Immediately a moist bronze head pushed through the opening and, as the hatchling also pushed its shoulders against the front of the shell, he was able to make his way out and onto the sands, peering around him. Then as Neru held his hand out to touch the hatchling’s head, the creature looked up, its multi-faceted eyes whirling orange with excitement and its tongue came out and licked Neru’s hand.
Like a blaze in her head, Nian felt the force of a new personality come between her and the long-term bond with her brother. It was almost as if that bond was being erased and she cried out as she clung weakly to Quinth. But Neru’s Impression to the little bronze had been completed.
“My dragon’s name is Larinth!” Neru shouted loudly for all to hear as tears of joy ran down his cheeks.
I’m starving! I’m starving, the little dragon said piteously, butting at Neru to succor him.
Do not worry, my brave dragon, I will feed you until you’re stuffed full, Neru said as he stroked the ridges above his dragon’s eyes.
“Neru, grab some of this meat and feed your dragon,” Nian said, struggling to help her brother and grateful that there was still some meat in her bowl.
Quinth roared with anger that her own rider would feed her food to another’s dragon. But three riders instantly leaped to help and Nian stuffed Quinth until her mouth was so full that the little queen had to start chewing or choke. Neru was given a full bowl and Nian’s was replaced so that very shortly both the gold and the little bronze were contented.
H’ran and the Weyrwoman began examining the bronze dragon, opening and closing its wet wing membranes, tapping its chest, checking its legs and tail to be sure it was healthy.
“He keeps saying that he was so weak with hunger, it was hard to make the shell crack, but see, he had almost broken through when Nian tripped,” Neru was saying, stroking his dragon. “He’s wonderful, isn’t he?”
“He certainly seems whole and healthy,” was H’ran’s decision, although he looked to the Weyrwoman to see if she agreed.
Oh, he is, he is, Quinth said to Nian.
“So, was your stumble accidental?” the Weyrwoman asked, looking from Nian to Quinth. “After what I had just told you?”
“She was trying to get the last of the meat in the bowl,” Nian said, boldly staring back at the Weyrwoman.
I am still hungry, Quinth said as if that justified everything. Dutifully, Nian held out another handful, careful to see that every piece went into the queen’s mouth. It was sheer luck that I had enough strength to break my own shell, Quinth added, swallowing the last mouthful before she pointed her head at Nian. And then you kept walking away from me!
I am sorry, dearling, Nian said as contritely as she could, holding out another handful of meat. I simply never thought that I’d Impress a dragon.
“Well, we’re all here now, and together,” Nian said, “and Larinth looks like a fine fellow.”
Thank you, Larinth said, his eyes glowing as he regarded Nian and Quinth intently.
Beside her, Quinth said quite distinctly, You’re welcome. Obviously, she didn’t like Nian to have much to do with Larinth. But then that’s what H’ran had said about newly Impressed dragons. They were jealous of their new partners.
“Let us help you toward the barracks then, Nian and Neru, and settle your dragons,” the Weyrwoman suggested.
“No more staggering into me either, please, Quinth,” Nian said, passing her the last of the food in this latest bowl. “Can she have more?” she queried the Weyrwoman dubiously.
“She’ll probably need it,” the Weyrwoman said. “After all, it’s a long walk for a newly hatched dragonet.”
Somehow, Nian did not think she had fooled the Weyrwoman with her desperate ploy but Neru had Impressed a bronze and that was justification enough. Sometimes things just needed a little push to come right.
One small detail, Quinth said in a firm mental tone, I am your dragon. And Larinth is your brother’s. Let us keep that in order.
Of course, dear Quinth, of course. I am all yours.
Yes, you are, and Quinth moved as close to Nian as she could.
“Hey, watch it, Quinth, you can’t sit on my lap, you know,” Nian spoke out loud to her dragon. “I’ve already got a bloody nose and sore ribs from you knocking me about. Can we please make it back to our weyr in an orderly fashion?” And a gentle note crept into Nian’s voice that took the sting out of her words.
Of course, Quinth replied in a suspiciously demure tone. As they passed H’ran, he put yet another bowl of meat cubes into Nian’s hand and gave her the barest smile and a wink that Nian decided to ignore. After all, her plan had worked.
Just then, Conna came forward to congratulate Nian. She saw Neru with Larinth and raised her shoulders in a shrug. Nian held her breath. Would Conna tell the Weyrwoman that her twin’s candidacy was dubious? At last Conna’s eyes met hers. The green rider merely grinned.
“It is always what the hatchling decides, my dear,” she said kindly. “And I’m very pleased for all your sakes.”
Nian leaned weakly against her queen for support. And Quinth graciously supported her. She kept a hand on her dragon’s neck as they proceeded on their way to the weyrling barracks.
Halfway across the Hatching G
round, they saw Robina patiently feeding the little green dragon that had pursued her half across the Bowl to succeed in making Impression. Robina’s expression was that of a love-struck young woman, and her little green dragon looked ecstatic.
“Well,” H’ran said, “I think those two are well suited. And our little queen has done the best for herself. Now I must busy myself to ensure that all my new weyrlings are securely settled in their weyrs; they’ll need to sleep. Follow me as you will, young dragonriders. Or should I say follow me, Nian, rider of golden Quinth and, N’ru, rider of bronze Larinth?” H’ran’s kindly tone was not lost on the twins and they smiled in unison at the man who would teach them all they’d need to know about dragons. Neru stood all the taller when he heard the Weyrlingmaster use his newly contracted name, the sign to all on Pern that he was, indeed, a dragonrider.
As Nian and Neru walked together off the hot sands and toward the weyrs, each closely escorting their dragons, they saw the crowd who had witnessed their Impressions slowly take their leave of the gallery around Ista Weyr’s Hatching Ground. Life was returning to normal for those spectators, but it had just begun for Nian and Neru. A pensive air settled over the twins as they encouraged their dragons onward to the weyrling barracks.
Both Quinth and Larinth were exhausted as their riders gently steered them toward the nearest unoccupied beds. Quinth settled herself in, and as soon as her head lay on her forelegs, she fell immediately and deeply asleep.
With a deep, satisfied sigh, Nian clambered up next to her golden dragon, and rested her head on Quinth’s right foreleg, curling her body up close to her dragon’s. Nian inhaled the dragon’s scent; spicy, like the kitchen at Lado before a big Gather. Spicy and slightly meaty, as the little queen breathed down on her rider. And comforting as if they had known each other forever, just as Nian and Neru had known each other all their lives.
“Ni?” Nian heard Ru’s voice gently calling to her from her left. “Larinth is fast asleep and I just wanted to . . .” Ru’s voice faltered and Nian immediately rose from her perch and found her brother in the passageway. Most of the other new riders were already asleep and several were snoring.
“What is it, Ru?” Nian asked, concern coloring her voice.
“I . . . I just wanted to tell you. Oh, Shards! Thanks Ni, for everything you—”
“Hush,” Nian interrupted her brother. “You don’t ever have to thank me. You are my twin.”
“But I want to, Ni.” And he raked a hand through his thick hair before continuing. “Back at Lado, when the dragons came on Search, I was so gobsmacked that the dragons didn’t select me right away, I couldn’t do or say anything. I . . .” It was obvious to Nian that her younger brother was struggling to say something of great importance to him. She reached out and clasped his hand tightly, he responded but then gently shook his hand free of her grip. Straightening his shoulders, Neru stood resolutely and looked his sister squarely in the eyes.
“I’ve never felt this before, Ni, but back at Lado I was jealous that the dragons Searched you first and only took me along as an afterthought. I’m sorry, Ni, I’ve never been jealous of you before in all my life. But when I thought you were going to Impress a dragon and I wouldn’t, I—I felt gutted.” He lowered his head then, mumbling, “I thought you were stealing my dream.”
Nian took a step closer to her brother and gently tilted his chin upward until his eyes were forced to meet hers.
“But, Ru,” Nian exclaimed, “I felt the same way too! I was afraid that I’d steal your dream and leave you—all in the same day! I didn’t want our separation to be that way.” They looked at each other in silence for a time, and then Ru spoke gently to his twin.
“You know, Ni, even though we both have dragons, the moment we Impressed our separation began.”
“But what do you mean? We’re both here in the same weyr,” Nian said, suddenly remembering the strange jolt of emotion she felt when Neru Impressed Larinth.
“You are a queen rider now, Nian, and I a bronze. You and Quinth may be sent to another Weyr, and I will remain here at Ista. And, as a queen rider, your duties will be far different from mine.” He gave a little laugh and then grinned warmly at his sister. “Being dragonriders has more effectively separated us than if we’d been sent to opposite ends of Pern. It’s ironic, isn’t it?”
From Quinth’s sleeping ledge, and beyond, where Larinth slept, the twins heard their dragons rumbling. Two large dragon eyes opened, whirling in blue, and peered at them from the darkness of Quinth’s bed.
Separate you may be, but Larinth and I, your dragons, will always keep you together. You’ll never be more than a thought apart—and you’ll never be alone, golden Quinth assured the twin dragonriders.
A Del Rey® Book
Published by The Ballantine Publishing Group
“Ever the Twain,” copyright © 2002 by Anne McCaffrey
“The Smallest Dragonboy,” copyright © 1973 by Rand McNally & Company for Science Fiction Tales, Roger Elwood, ed. “The Girl Who Heard Dragons,” copyright © 1994 by Anne McCaffrey “Runner of Pern,” copyright © 1998 by Anne McCaffrey Interior illustrations copyright © 2002 by Tom Kidd
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by The Ballantine Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
“The Girl Who Heard Dragons” was originally published in 1994 as a Tor Book by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
“Runner of Pern” was originally published in Legends: Short Novels by the Masters of Modern Fantasy as a Tor Book by Tom Doherty Associates Ltd.
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eISBN 978-0-345-45860-5
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