Sky Dragons Dragonriders of Pern

by Anne McCaffrey

  Xhinna nodded silently.

  And so now, as the sun matched the point at which Danirry’s final lifesaving cry had been uttered, the six Weyrs were all gathered, their wings arrayed in Flights and the Flights stacked on top of each other as the queens of all flew out to sea, their path lit by the dragons of all five Weyrleaders.

  In the center of the V formation a single bright light—a torch to mark the lost rider and dragon—was seen, falling to the sea and sizzling out as it hit the water.

  Then, in a brilliant burst of light, all the oldest dragons breathed fire into the air.

  And then it was dark, quiet, and cold.

  Weyr by Weyr they departed for their homes, until only the Sky wings remained stubbornly behind.

  Rest well, blue rider, Xhinna thought, knowing her words would be echoed by Tazith to all the dragons surrounding them. You’ve earned it.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Feast for the Fallen

  “K’dan approved it,” J’keran said as he greeted the returning Sky riders with a cask of special brew. Fiona had told Xhinna to have them land on the Meeyu Plateau, and Xhinna was surprised to see their path illuminated by a huge bonfire that had not been there when they’d left. J’keran waved at the cask, adding, “Guaranteed to do the job and no more.”

  Xhinna nodded gratefully to the brown rider.

  K’dan moved forward, his prized gitar hung over his shoulder. “Tonight I am here as harper.” He nodded into the distance, and Xhinna was surprised to see X’lerin step out of the shadows.

  She felt a hand on her shoulder and raised her opposite hand to cover it—from the angle, she knew it was R’ney’s hand. Taria moved in to her other side and wrapped an arm around Xhinna’s waist.

  “Weyrleader,” Xhinna said, nodding to X’lerin. “Will you drink with us?”

  “My pleasure,” X’lerin said. He nodded to J’keran to do the honors, and in moments the cask was broached and mugs filled. X’lerin took a quick sip, choked, and passed the mug to Xhinna. “Wingleader.”

  Xhinna took a quick sip and was surprised as fire roared down to her belly. She passed the cup up to R’ney, who took his sip, then coughed, “It’s smooth!” before passing it over to Taria.

  “The children—” Taria started to protest.

  “Tonight, the Weyr looks after its children,” K’dan called out loudly. “Isn’t that so, Weyrleader?”

  “It is,” X’lerin replied with a firm nod and a gesture to J’keran, who was steadily filling up more mugs and passing them around. “And harper, have you a proper song for the occasion?”

  “I think I do,” K’dan said, looking mournfully at J’keran, who laughed and said, “Never let it be said Sky Weyr would parch its harper!” He passed a full mug to K’dan, who took a quick gulp, coughed, and looked at the mug with eyes wide, before setting it down carefully beside him and bringing his gitar around to his front.

  “Drummer, beat,” he began in a loud, clear voice. He looked around the group waiting with a hand ready for the next chord.

  “Piper, blow,” Taria responded in clear rich tones.

  “Harper, strike,” K’dan sang out. He eyed the crowd.

  “And soldier, go,” R’ney’s tearful voice rang out.

  Xhinna felt all eyes on her and she stepped forward and nodded to K’dan. It took her two tries to get the words past her heart-stopped throat:

  “Free the flame and sear the grasses.”

  And then the entire plateau shook as all the riders sang out:

  “Till the dawning Red Star passes.”

  Xhinna reached for the next mug and drained it in one gulp. K’dan waited a moment before launching into a rollicking tune that had all of them singing and laughing and stepping together.

  After that, Xhinna lost all track of time.

  She awoke in a strange place and it took her a long while to realize that it was one of the stone hall rooms, filled with soft mattresses, pillows, quilts, and snoring riders. She tried to move, but a small arm pushed her back.

  “You did not—” Xhinna began loudly as she recognized the arm and then, as the protest from her ears registered achingly on her brain, she reduced her voice to a whisper. “You did not spend the night here.”

  “Shh,” Jirana told her muzzily, shaking her head in a motion that could either have been negation or irritation.

  The young queen rider’s advice was easy to take, as Xhinna’s head told her that whatever K’dan had decided, J’keran’s drink was far, far stronger than any she’d ever tasted.

  I’m bringing klah. The voice seemed to speak quietly in her head. Xhinna looked around and then turned as a path of light split the dark of the room and someone entered. Lorana.

  Jirana slowly got to her knees and then helped Xhinna up. Together the two of them made their way to Lorana and out into the morning light. Xhinna was just about to drop the curtain back when a hand intercepted it and Jepara, her eyes beaming, joined them.

  Lorana led them to another interior room, the Council Room, also thankfully darkened.

  Xhinna smelled not only hot klah but warm rolls and fresh butter. Her stomach flipped briefly, but then settled down again, eager for sustenance.

  They sat around the table, eating and drinking quietly until Xhinna felt well enough to question Jirana. She did so with a single raised eyebrow and a demanding look.

  “I had one sip,” Jirana said defensively. She made a sour face. “Yuck! I don’t know why anyone would drink that stuff.”

  “And your mother knows?” Xhinna demanded.

  “Lorana does,” Jirana said. “And I’m old enough—”

  “You’ve only—”

  “I’ve nearly thirteen Turns,” Jirana cut across. “Not that I intend to drink myself silly like J’keran or—” She glanced significantly at Xhinna and then over to Jepara, but said nothing.

  “Children drink wine mixed with water just after they’re weaned,” Jepara said on Jirana’s behalf.

  “That was not wine,” Xhinna said.

  “You’re ignoring the point,” Jirana said, grabbing another roll and applying a very liberal amount of butter before tearing into it. After she swallowed, she said, “I’d permission, I was responsible, and—”

  “You appointed yourself my keeper,” Xhinna said.

  Jirana, to her surprise, grinned. “Actually, I was in charge of your drink.”

  Xhinna’s eyes went wide and she turned to Jepara who tried, quite unsuccessfully, to look innocent. “And you were the shoulder to lean on?”

  “I was one of your carcass bearers,” Jepara said, smiling sweetly. She nodded to Jirana. “Her orders were to be certain that your cup was never empty.” The older queen rider smirked in positive delight as she added, “She was quite dutiful.”

  “R’ney?”

  “K’dan,” Jepara said.

  “Taria?”

  “Me,” Lorana said.

  “A queen or bronze for every member of your wing,” Jepara told her. “Of course, we had to double up some, but it was not as hard as you’d think.”

  “And our duties?” Xhinna asked.

  “Completed where necessary, or deferred,” Lorana said. She leaned forward. “After all you’ve done, it was only fitting.”

  “We won’t be doing this for every fallen rider?”

  “I don’t know, it certainly seems like a good idea,” Jepara said, her eyes dancing mischievously.

  Xhinna was speechless. Jirana refilled her mug and passed it back to her. “More klah?”

  It took the wing the better part of the day to recover from the evening’s revelry, and when they did, their mood was dour.

  In summer and spring, the broom trees provided a marvelous shelter and home. In the midst of winter, they were not so accommodating, and only the large wooden walls carefully attached to the many platforms that had been built below the treetops provided the needed shelter. Building the walls and setting them up took time and effort, so winter shelter was necessaril
y very confining and scarce.

  The stone hall on the burnt plateau—Meeyu Plateau—provided relief, but it was actually easier to expand the platforms beneath the broom trees than to carefully construct or expand the fitted stone hall.

  “How much longer until we can return?” Alimma asked querulously as the wing gathered at one long table for dinner in the High Kitchen.

  “We’ve yet to mark Turn’s end,” R’ney said, “so we’ve got eight months—nearly nine here yet.”

  “We’re still so far back in time that Lorana hasn’t yet discovered the cure,” Mirressa added. “We can’t possibly go back until after that at the earliest.”

  “That’s when D’gan and Telgar were lost between,” Taria said. She pursed her lips. “Will we hear that again, here?”

  “I don’t know,” Xhinna said, making a note to bring it up with K’dan when she could.

  “That’s when Lorana lost her queen, isn’t it?” Jirana spoke up unexpectedly beside them. R’ney raised an eyebrow at the young gold rider, but moved down the bench, motioning for her to join them.

  “And Seban will lose his blue Serth,” Xhinna added, glancing around for the blue rider and wondering why she hadn’t seen him recently.

  “And so many others,” Taria agreed sadly. Her eyes took on a distant look and she grew so quiet that Xhinna shot her a troubled look. Taria noticed it and said apologetically, “It’s just that I remember when D’gan went. His son, D’lin, went for help and … no one ever found him.”

  “Was he lost between?” R’ney wondered. The others shrugged. “Wasn’t he found when D’gan was rescued?”

  “No,” Taria said. The others looked at her, so she explained, “I asked Lorana.” She made a sad face. “He was a nice lad; I’d hoped he’d been saved.”

  “Must have been hard on D’gan,” R’ney said.

  Xhinna found herself nodding. It was a moment before she realized that silence had descended around her and still another before a cough alerted her to the arrival of a newcomer.

  It was Jepara. Xhinna looked up at her.

  “So what’s the plan, Sky leader?” Jepara asked, nodding toward Jirana. “My small ears have gone quiet.”

  Xhinna gave her a blank look. To her surprise, Jepara scooped up Jirana, took her seat, and placed the younger rider in her lap before leaning forward conspiratorially.

  “I’ve seen the charts,” Jepara told them.

  “And?”

  “And Thread should fall at Nerat and Upper Crom tomorrow morning,” Jepara said. R’ney, Taria, and the others all glanced questioningly at Xhinna, who nodded reluctantly.

  “But K’dan says that no Fall, not even dust, was reported,” Xhinna said.

  “Would it hurt to be certain?” Taria asked. Xhinna felt a tense agreement from the rest of the riders.

  “It would be better if we had Lorana—” Xhinna broke off as she caught a jerky movement opposite the table. She eyed Jirana and Jepara both very carefully. “We’d need someone to give us a good image.”

  “That can be arranged,” Jepara said with a wave of her hand.

  “And firestone,” Xhinna added.

  “That you can get on your own just for the asking,” Jepara said. “Especially if you make it clear that you’ll be practicing with bronzes and browns.”

  “And queens?” Xhinna asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

  “Well, at least two,” Jepara agreed. “Although I’d heard that Meeya is getting antsy to do more flying, and perhaps Hannah, Karrina, and Latara.”

  “Just look?” Xhinna asked, trying to match Jepara’s innocent tone.

  “And where’s the harm in that?” Jepara wondered.

  “I can’t see any,” Taria replied, turning to R’ney and asking, “Can you?”

  “It’d do us some good,” R’ney replied. He raised an eyebrow at Xhinna. “What do you think?”

  Xhinna couldn’t figure out why Taria acted so smug later that night, or why Jirana seemed so unworried when they gathered in the morning until Jepara said, “You’re staying here, of course.”

  The queen rider cut off her outburst with a hand. “You must know that K’dan will be keeping his eye on you.”

  “And he won’t notice that you and all the rest of the wing are missing?”

  “Of course not!”

  Xhinna gave her a skeptical look.

  “Most of us will be here, training with you, practicing flaming just as he’d want,” R’ney said, taking pity on his wingleader.

  “And the missing ones will be dropping practice Thread?” Xhinna guessed.

  “Exactly,” Taria said. “It’s just that some of the Thread droppers will need to gather the long willow leaves we use, and others will be up high, and in all that—”

  “No one will notice a pair of missing dragons,” Jirana said, smiling happily up at Xhinna.

  “Well,” Xhinna said, glancing warningly toward R’ney, “it’s said that a wise wingleader leaves the hard work to her seconds.”

  “And we all know you’re wise,” Jepara said in a tone that was just shy of taunting.

  Xhinna frowned, then looked around. “We’re a wingsecond short—”

  “Ah,” R’ney said, shifting his stance in a way that showed his discomfort with the topic.

  Xhinna hated pressing the issue, but felt she had to. “Under the circumstances, it’d be better if we were at our full strength.” She turned her head toward J’valin, rider of blue Nerinath. His dragon was half a Turn younger than R’ney’s brown Rowerth, but he was well grown.

  “I was wondering,” interjected a tenor voice as a figure emerged from the knot of riders, “if perhaps you’d be willing to let me …” It was J’keran.

  “He’s got experience,” Jepara said, moving close to pitch her words for Xhinna’s ears only.

  Certainly he had experience—he’d fought Thread for nearly half a Turn, had nearly killed Xhinna in a drunken rage, and had taken Taria and her Coranth off to live as outlaws even to the point of trying to steal Candidates for Coranth’s clutch.

  His life was forfeit to her and she’d given it to the Weyr and, more specifically, to Jirana, whose Mrreow-claw injuries had nearly killed her. Since then, J’keran had slowly transformed from the young girl’s guard to the guard of all the Hatching Grounds for all six Weyrs—and he took his duty very seriously. Since that day when Jirana had touched her queen Laspanth still in the shell and guided the dragonriders to destroy all the ravaging tunnel snakes, not a single egg had been lost. Much—perhaps most—due to J’keran.

  Xhinna could sense R’ney’s outrage and Taria’s … challenge—it was not contempt—as clearly as though both were dragons. She understood R’ney’s feelings and spent a few moments coming to grips with Taria’s odd emotions before nodding to the man who stood before her, projecting strength, honesty, and—unless she missed her guess—pure, unadulterated terror.

  “Your duty’s done,” Xhinna told him. “You have earned back your honor and your life.” Her eyes strayed to Jirana, who was bouncing on her feet, her throat moving with unspoken words, her eyes silently urging Xhinna on. “If the Weyrwoman is satisfied—”

  “More than satisfied!” Jirana cried jubilantly.

  “Then, with the Weyrleader’s permission,” Xhinna told J’keran, “I’d be honored to have you fly with us.”

  Xhinna felt Taria’s fingers clasp around hers. Xhinna reached around and hugged her, then stood away, watching J’keran’s reaction. She saw his eyes widen and then she nodded to him.

  J’keran’s brown Perinth was a fine mount, well grown, well loved, well trained, and proven in countless Falls and mating flights. Xhinna accepted that Perinth might outfly her blue Tazith, that Taria might smile once more at his attention, but she wasn’t upset. Her bonds with Taria, born in youth and first love, were too strong now after Turns together for anyone to sever them.

  “We’ll need your Perinth to train with Sarurth, Laspanth, and Rowerth,” Xhinna told him
. J’keran nodded, encouraged by the beaming smile from Jirana. “But what about your guard duties?”

  “I’ll retain them, if I may,” J’keran said. He raised a hand as he added, “There’s only the one last Hatching, and that will be in a matter of weeks.” He gave her a sad, wistful look that she understood too well—the greens had all chewed firestone and never again could he or Xhinna hope that there might be weyrlings sired by their dragons. “Besides,” he added, nodding toward Jirana, “we’ve arranged a good watch.”

  “Very well,” Xhinna said, “you’ll train with the catchers. J’valin and Cliova will take first watch, followed by—”

  “If it pleases you, Wingleader,” R’ney cut across her words with a diffident look, “we’ve got that figured out already. What’s needed now is to get on with the flaming before someone starts asking awkward questions.”

  Xhinna responded with a flurry of orders and a dismissive wave at the group of catchers.

  In short order, she and Tazith were airborne over Eastern Isle, not far from the abandoned camp she’d fled nearly three Turns before.

  Lorana says they’re on station, Tazith relayed as Xhinna and three others waited for any sign of the green willow practice Thread they were supposed to be flaming.

  Ten minutes later, she was bored and switched, having Tazith climb high to take on a round of practice-Thread flinging. They had just reached their position and were settling on an even path when—

  Thread! Thread falls at Nerat! Mirressa’s green Valcanth cried as the image from high in the dark blue sky came to Xhinna.

  Tell them to follow it, Xhinna said, then have the catchers move into position and have the wing—

  Lorana says we need to stay with the catchers, Tazith interrupted.

  With a stubborn cry, Xhinna ordered Tazith to close up with the queens and the browns who flew as catchers.

  They came out from between just as the other dragons bugled in distress and bunched close together.

  Mirressa! Xhinna cried, seeing her and her green dragon tumbling toward them. Xhinna had just an instant to wonder who was trailing the Thread when the answer came to her and she cried: Go, Tazith!