The Skies of Pern

by Anne McCaffrey

  I do not see much. But I see with two eyes.

  Tai began to hiccup with sobs. F’lessan was gasping and hissing more than sobbing, sagging against his dragon, his injured leg sticking out to one side.

  “I had to see, I had to know,” he murmured.

  Tai tried to support him, but he kept slipping, exhausted by his efforts, tears running down his face in a quiet despair that was far worse to hear than his initial sobs of relief.

  Zaranth, put us in his room.

  Where?

  The bed!

  Being moved telekinetically by Zaranth was not at all the same thing as going between. If anything, Tai thought, it was between between.

  Notsofast! Tai heard Golanth say, like a tiny distant sound deep in her ear, not a phrase said aloud. And the breathless propulsion down the corridor eased somewhere in between the start and the finish, and by its finish, they were slowly falling onto a bed. The larger bed they had shared—a logical enough destination for Zaranth, who would have recognized from Tai’s mind that this bed was preferable to the narrow one that F’lessan had left. Tai was able to ease F’lessan’s descent to the mattress.

  As she hastily checked for any blood seeping from his bandages, F’lessan lay there, supine, limp arms over his head, gasping for breath, his face pale even in the darkened room, his left leg jutting straight out over the end of the bed.

  “A bit sudden, isn’t it, Tai,” he said, opening his eyes. “I’m thirsty.” That was plaintive. The next was definitive. “And I do not want any fellis juice. I want water, lots of it. Cold.”

  Limping a little because she’d strained her bad leg, Tai paused at the door to listen for any activity in the hall, and then slipped as quickly as she could back to F’lessan’s sickroom. She took the pitcher and the glass from the table and returned with them. Maybe she should have found some wine, or something sweet, for the shock. Now that she had had a few moments to get accustomed to the uncovered eye, it could have been worse: Golly had some sight. It must have been much worse for F’lessan, not able to check but very able to lie in that bed, numbed with the weed and fellis, thinking, thinking, and thinking. There would be considerable relief in knowing just how bad it was.

  She got back with no one the wiser in the sleeping weyrhold. She poured water for F’lessan, who dragged himself to a sitting position on one elbow. He drained the glass. She arranged pillows and pushed him back against them before she took a long swig from the pitcher to quench her own thirst.

  “More, please.” He held up the empty glass. When she refilled it, he sipped in mouthfuls this time. She drank again from the pitcher. The water was nearly gone. Should she get some fruit juice from the kitchen? Sagassy could be relied on to have a beaker cooling there. It wasn’t just the sea that had made her mouth dry.

  When she made a move to leave, he caught her hand. “Don’t go, Tai. Don’t leave me, my very dear green.”

  “Golanth’s patch, I should replace it.”

  He grabbed at her hand, his fingers unexpectedly fierce. “No, he can use the lids if he needs to shield … what’s left to see with. He hated that patch. I promised I’d get it off.”

  “If you’d only told us!”

  Eyes closed with exhaustion, he gave a weak smile. “Would you, Tai? Would you have flouted Wyzall, Ballora, all of them?”

  “Yes!”

  His smile broadened, tinged with doubt, as he turned his head on the pillow toward her, his hand patting hers.

  “Yes, I would have,” she said firmly.

  Then he scowled. “And what were you doing away from Honshu in the middle of the night, dear rider?”

  She grinned. “We went swimming.”

  “Swimming in the middle of the night?” he cried, astonished.

  “Belior’s up and it did me a lot of good.”

  “Alone?” He tried to scold her.

  “Not with nearly a full pod of dolphins about.” Then, before he could continue, she added, “And all the good of that swim might be undone coping with your jaunt tonight.”

  He sighed, giving a weary shake to his head. “I think, my very dear green, my very dear Tai, we’re all the better for tonight.”

  Wearily he closed his eyes but his lips curved in a slight smile.

  He is, Golanth is, I am, you are, Zaranth said.

  F’lessan gave her hand a final pat before the fingers lay lax. She checked again for any seepage from the bandages. It would be like F’lessan to be unscathed by such a desperate antic. When she fumbled to draw the light cover over them, he was breathing evenly and the fretful lines on his face had relaxed. He almost looked like himself, except for the scar and the lack of hair around it.

  He sleeps, said both dragons. We sleep.

  She gave a happy sigh, ignored the ache in her leg and her bruised hand, put her head on the pillow beside F’lessan’s, and turned her cheek against his bare shoulder.

  Excited, concerned whispers and running feet awakened her. She was in that state of limp repose that allowed her to be aware of the distraction but unwilling to respond to the air of alarm.

  Fortunately it was Sagassy who put her head in the door and stared at them. With a sense of mischief that astonished Tai as much as it did the hold woman, Tai put one finger to her lips to keep Sagassy from alerting the searchers. At that, Sagassy did give them a few more moments’ peace, going back into the hall.

  “The dragons are sleeping, aren’t they? So the riders’ve come to no harm or be sure we’d’ve all heard the bugling. Now let’s all be sensible …”

  Then someone called urgently from the terrace. And Sagassy ran off.

  Beside her, F’lessan moved, stretching a little. “I’ll bet they found Golly’s patch has been removed.”

  That was the startled news reverberating down the hall. F’lessan slowly slid his arm under Tai’s shoulder and nestled her against him, his head on hers.

  “It won’t be long now,” he murmured indolently and kissed her temple. Tai felt something inside her snap, as if all her guts and her ribs had been tangled in a great knot, which the kiss had untied. “I’m going to insist that we occupy this room from now on. It’s big enough so you won’t be bashing into me. You’re a quiet sleeper anyway. I don’t think you moved all night.”

  “They have to be somewhere,” they heard Keita shouting.

  “That is, if it’s your choice, Tai?”

  For a split second—wanting to throw her arms about him in an excess of relief—she didn’t know where it was safe to embrace him. So she demurely rubbed her head against his left shoulder. “I choose. I choose you in any condition and any way I get to choose you.”

  By then, their refuge was officially discovered and they were the victims of some choice sarcastic official displeasure and tongue-lashing. Tai was ejected from the bed so that Keita could be sure that F’lessan had done no damage to himself.

  The main puzzle—how had they gotten to this room—was the easiest to answer.

  “Zaranth put us here,” Tai said. “She can, you know.”

  “And brought F’lessan out to Golanth?” Keita demanded, still outraged by finding the patch removed.

  Tai gave a negligent shrug and let them assume what they wanted to. Then the healer had F’lessan carried back to his sickroom where medicines and bandages were stored, to make sure that he hadn’t done himself any harm. F’lessan’s grin might have been a trifle off-center as Keita changed dressings to reassure herself that no stitches had broken, but he remained unrepentant.

  “I’m soaked in numbweed,” he said.

  “You both should know by now,” Keita said, reproachfully, her expression severe, “that the deadening effect of numbweed is deceptive. It is so very easy to damage tissue or tendon because you can’t feel what strain you’re inadvertently exerting. If the green dragon did indeed effect your unwise and unauthorized trip to the terrace, then that at least proves you’re not totally bereft of common sense, bronze rider.”

  “And Goll
y’s eye suffered no further damage?” F’lessan asked with a touch of arrogance and, to Tai, a wish to be reassured that it was, indeed, all right. “Persellan has seen it?”

  “You’re very lucky that the lids have healed as well as they have,” Keita said, giving them full measure of her censure. “They were in shreds after the attack. Fortunately dragon membrane, unlike the more delicate eye facets, can regenerate.”

  “Yes,” F’lessan said in a dry tone, “that’s been explained. Golly knows he has limited vision but he does have some.”

  Keita had to admit that.

  “He said the lids get very dry.”

  “Part of the injury includes an inability to generate sufficient moisture to lubricate the lids. I think we can help there, with a light gel, applied when needed. We coated the eye with it before we sewed the lids shut against sun damage.”

  “Then perhaps I can take over that duty now,” F’lessan said, easing his body into a sitting position. Keita watched him, one hand lifting to suggest great care.

  Then she said, “I’d very much like to see how green Zaranth does this telekinesis.”

  I can’t do it slowly, Tai. Tai could almost hear her dragon gulp in anxiety.

  I do the slow part, Golanth said. You apply the lift.

  There is a chair out here, Zaranth added.

  “Master Keita, would you have the gel handy?” Tai asked to distract her.

  Keita turned to the chest where healer supplies were stored.

  Stay very still, Tai heard her green say.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Tai saw F’lessan disappear.

  Notsofast! Golanth said. Her heart gave a thump of alarm, and she shot a glance down the hall in time to see F’lessan’s body inserted in the chair, a look of surprise on his face. Trundlebugs had never appeared to notice.

  We didn’t even bump him, Zaranth said, highly pleased.

  A matter of practice. You shove.

  I don’t. I move.

  I slow.

  We can try it the other way round, and to Tai her dragon’s voice sounded wily.

  You can practice on other things, F’lessan said firmly to Zaranth and Golanth but Tai could hear the amusement in his voice.

  Hand reaching for a small jar, Keita swiveled, stared accusingly at Tai. She gave a deep sigh of exasperation. “I suppose it’s similar to going between.”

  “Not really. It’s sort of all at once, instead of by degrees. Is that the gel? I’ll just take it out to him.”

  Tai left the room as fast as she could.

  “Just so long as he comes out of it alive on the other end,” Keita called after her.

  When she reached the terrace, F’lessan was still in the chair, leaning down to look at Golanth’s hind leg. One of the other healers was just staring at him. Zaranth, on the upper ledge, was blinking and looking, Tai thought, rather paler green than she should be.

  Does it take a lot of effort?

  No, Golanth helps. Last night I was afraid I might hurt him.

  I slowed him down, Golanth said. That’s important, too. He isn’t a feline.

  He also isn’t a trundlebug. Heavier. Zaranth replied.

  He seems to have survived, Tai said, walking quickly down the hall.

  It may be just a matter of control. We must find out how the other dragons are doing, Golanth said.

  Tai reached F’lessan in his chair.

  “How was the ride?”

  “It’s not like going between,” he said firmly, looking her in the eye. “But I got here and Golly’s leg isn’t near as bad as I thought it was. Couldn’t really see it last night, you know.”

  “You had too much time to think. I told you it was healing.”

  “I had to see it.”

  “I know,” she agreed affably but, when he started to get up, she pushed him back.

  “I want to see all of Golly,” he protested.

  “Golly can turn around. You stay put. It’ll do Golly good to move.”

  “But he’s smeared with numbweed,” F’lessan replied hotly.

  “You heard Keita lecture us.”

  “It won’t hurt Golly to turn around in place. He has done it.” Tai spoke firmly, sounding a bit like Keita.

  I can do it. And Golanth ended that argument by rising to four feet, and whatever the turn might have lacked in grace, it did allow his seated rider to see all of him, glistening in ribbons and patches with recently and generously applied numbweed. Except for the deepest ones, the claw marks were now mostly black tracings; where the wing sails had been punctured, the membrane tissue was ringed with pale new growth. When F’lessan asked him to, Golanth obediently stopped so his rider could lean forward for a closer look at one deep groove or the imprint of claw tips. At the point where Golanth was facing Zaranth on her ledge, he raised his head and gave her an affectionate lick.

  Tai tried to gauge F’lessan’s assessment of his dragon’s condition but his usually mobile face was expressionless. His hands expressed his anguish, his fingers clenching and unclenching as if he wished he could erase the injuries, finally settling helplessly to the arms of the chair. Then Golanth halted, in front of his seated rider.

  “Swimming would do F’lessan a lot of good,” Tai murmured.

  Zaranth made the most astonishing sound of surprise, her eyes whirling into yellow and she extended her head and neck in protest.

  I’m only a green. I would need a lot of practice to move as much as Golanth.

  F’lessan gave a burst of laughter. When you bounced all those felines like so many wherries?

  I was angry. I was afraid. Zaranth’s look was so apologetic that F’lessan laughed again, shaking his head at her. I didn’t bounce you last night.

  I helped, Golanth said with dignity, sweeping his weyrmate a kindly glance. When I need to move, I will move myself. I can fall over the edge of the terrace just as you did last night.

  Not just yet, Golly, both riders said urgently.

  Zaranth curved her head back. You couldn’t have seen me. And you can’t go falling off the terrace. You’ve too much wingspread to drop off.

  When I need to move, I said, and his dignity increased. I heard you last night. Nothing’s wrong with my hearing. Swimming would be good for my rider. You must take him today. F’lessan, tell the healers you must swim.

  I’m not leaving you, F’lessan replied stoutly.

  I am much better, you know. So are you, Golanth said, shoving his nose gently at F’lessan’s knees, the good eye serenely steady. Then he cocked his head so he could see through the left eye.

  “Keita gave me this to help lubricate his lids,” Tai said, handing F’lessan the jar. It took her breath away to see the ruin of the left eye in full light and she knew it must be worse for his rider.

  “Yes, that’s a good idea,” F’lessan said in an even voice and unscrewed the jar. With the tip of a delicately poised finger, he applied the gel. “Now close that lid and I’ll do the other.”

  “Swimming would be very good for you,” Tai repeated when he had finished that ministration. “Your wounds are closed. Going between won’t affect them. I’m sure we can get you on Zaranth’s back. The sea would do you good. Getting away from here would do you good.”

  F’lessan leaned back in the chair, regarding her steadily just as Keita approached.

  “What’s this about the sea?” the healer asked.

  “It’d be excellent therapy, Keita, you know that. The dolphins will assist.”

  There was considerably more discussion about swimming. Basically Keita had no objection but she wanted a healer to accompany them, even offering to go herself, with perhaps T’lion and his Gadareth as support while F’lessan insisted that Tai and Zaranth would be more than adequate companions. Somewhat reluctantly Keita admitted that the presence of dolphins would suffice if Tai were certain they’d appear. F’lessan and Tai both reassured her.

  “He doesn’t need to get out of the water,” Tai insisted, remaining firm but not plead
ing. “He can swim off and on Zaranth without requiring help or getting sand on him. We won’t do much today, but the water is so—so buoyant.”

  “Let them have some time to themselves, Master Keita,” Sagassy said firmly, giving Tai a wink. “The change would do them good and they’d be back in time for lunch and hungry for it. Golanth here won’t be out of touch with them for a moment. Will you, bronze dragon?”

  Not many non-riders were bold enough to ask a dragon’s opinion but Sagassy had become quite comfortable with the bronze. He nodded and the remaining facets on his left eye began to exhibit whirls of enthusiasm.

  That first excursion—short though it was—marked a decided turn in F’lessan’s recuperation. And that night they shared a bed.

  Landing—3.21.31

  On that last tack into Monaco Bay, Shankolin saw Landing once again ahead of him on its hill, the three volcanoes in the distance. He had had no warning from Lord Toric about the current size of the facility. Now he understood why the Lord Holder had advised him to come here and survey the area with the view of bringing total destruction to the Abomination, and all its adjuncts. Then the view was hidden as the ship tacked again, closing with the wharf where it would moor.

  Even during their conversation at Telgar Hold, Shankolin was wary of coming to Landing but Toric had said that there would be no trouble at all to arrange entry into the Admin Building itself so that Shankolin could estimate just what method would serve their mutual purpose. Toric gave him a substantial number of marks and observed that he had best journey from one of the smaller seaholds on Nerat’s Foot. Toric knew of a fisherman whose captain owed him a favor or two and would sail him directly to Monaco Bay. He remarked that gloves on Shankolin’s hand would disguise the missing joint and a cap pulled down on the forehead would hide the scar.

  “Someone saw you and the Harper Hall has passed a rough sketch of you around. You’d best cover what you can and change what you’re wearing now.”

  Shankolin suppressed a smile at the Lord Holder’s disgust but smell was as much a disguise as clothing. To most observers, Shankolin was a hill man whom few would approach for several reasons, one of them being the body odor.