“What is it?” Cisca asked as she saw Fiona looking up into the morning sky. Fiona shook her head and shrugged. Cisca craned her neck up, scanning the lightening sky. The other Weyrwomen joined suit, followed by the four Weyrleaders.
“There!” Fiona cried suddenly as a bright light flashed in the morning sun. “That’s where she went!”
“I can’t see how anyone could live up there,” Tullea objected again when Fiona explained her reasoning to her for the third time. Javissa had politely but forcefully relieved the Benden Weyrwoman of her daughter, backed by gentle assurances from B’nik, and now Tullea seemed ready to revert to her old form.
“I don’t think they can,” Fiona agreed. “Although I could be wrong,” she added with a puzzled expression. “Don’t the Teaching Ballads say that our ancestors crossed the stars in the Dawn Sisters?”
Tullea nodded.
“So they must be large enough to have housed thousands of people.”
“But not dragons,” Tullea objected. “And even if they had herdbeasts with them, I can’t see any living there now.”
“True,” Fiona agreed. “And I’m not saying Lorana took the dragonets there.”
“So where and when did she take them?” Tullea demanded.
“I don’t know,” Fiona confessed. “But I think if I go up to the Dawn Sisters—”
“You might lose the babies,” Shaneese broke in. Fiona’s mood deflated abruptly.
“I’ll go first,” T’mar offered. “If it’s safe enough, then you can come.”
“I think Telgar has enough glory,” D’vin observed. “Why not let us go?”
“T’mar,” Fiona cut through the growing rancor, “just go!”
Cisca gave the younger Weyrwoman a wry look and raised her brown eyes to Sonia’s green ones. “Feisty.”
“Better let her have her way,” Sonia agreed with a shake of her head.
“She has earned the right,” Tullea allowed. “That is, if she’s correct in her guess.”
“We’ll know soon enough,” T’mar said, nodding toward the others and striding back out into the Weyr Bowl even as Zirenth came rushing toward him.
“I’m not catching falling riders!” Fiona called after him. “Nor dragons.” A moment later she corrected herself softly, “Well, maybe falling dragons.”
Cisca glanced at her and shook her head ruefully.
You know where to go? T’mar asked his bronze dragon once more as they circled the Star Stones.
To the Dawn Sisters, Zirenth agreed affably. They are not hard to find.
But we want to get close to them, make them big in our sight, T’mar cautioned his friend.
Of course, just like Lorana did, Zirenth agreed.
You know that she went there? T’mar asked in surprise. How?
When you thought about it, I thought about it and remembered that she’d been there, Zirenth told him innocently.
Show me your image, T’mar said. He closed his eyes and felt the image form, the image of three large shapes, different from any ship he’d ever seen but still obviously ships, even if ships for the stars. Very well, let’s go.
Take a deep breath.
A moment later, they were between.
Between lasted longer than three coughs, but less than the time it had taken them to go back ten Turns in time. And suddenly bright lights assailed T’mar’s eyes and he raised a hand to shield them, looking down and—
T’mar gasped in wonder as he saw Pern laid out below him, mountains and trails etched into the surface with a clarity he’d never seen before. He could almost spot Telgar Weyr, could easily make out Crom and Telgar Holds, could follow the Igen River down toward the sea.
How long he stared down in awe he could not say. Suddenly he felt very cold and his vision started to gray.
Let’s go! Back!
“T’mar!” Fiona shouted, racing toward the falling dragon as Zirenth hurtled, lifeless, toward the ground.
Talenth! Tolarth! Ginirth! she called and then suddenly she felt a surge of power, felt more voices respond to her, felt all the dragons arrayed in the Weyr rise up form a bridge, a cushion, a descending line that guided rider and dragon softly to the ground.
Too much! she heard a voice cry to her. You can’t lose the babies!
And then Fiona felt her knees buckle, felt her head wobble toward the ground until—
“I’ve got you, lean on me,” Jirana said, forcing herself under the Weyrwoman even as K’lior and Cisca raced to her aid.
“He’s not breathing!” D’vin shouted from a distance.
“I’m on it!” Birentir called, his feet pumping hard on the packed ground as he sped toward Telgar’s Weyrleader. “He’s blue, he’s been without air, give him room.”
Fiona found her own breath, reached down to steady herself on Jirana, gently pushed on the small shoulder until she got her legs under control, and then gave Jirana a gentle squeeze in thanks as she stood back up.
“Get me to him,” Fiona said to her, Cisca, and K’lior.
“Lean on me, then,” Cisca said, taking all of Fiona’s weight on her side. Cisca waddled them over to T’mar, half-carrying the smaller Weyrwoman.
T’mar sputtered and sat up, waving aside further aid just as Fiona reached him.
“Not enough air, eh?” Fiona asked. “And cold, too?”
“Only later,” T’mar agreed.
“What did you see?” D’vin wondered.
“Telgar, Crom, Igen—it was beautiful.”
“And deadly,” Sonia reminded him sternly.
“Only when I ran out of air,” T’mar protested, trying to stand and discovering that his legs refused to move. “Next time, I’ll be more careful.”
Shaneese arrived at that moment, glaring down at him.
“And why would there be a next time?” she demanded.
“Because I haven’t seen it all.” His eyes sought and found Fiona. “It’s beautiful.”
“Well then, when you’re rested, we’ll go look,” Fiona told him. “Shaneese can ride with me.”
In the end it was decided that Cisca, K’lior, and Fiona would go next and then, on their return, Sonia and D’vin of High Reaches Weyr, Dalia and S’maj of Ista Weyr would go. Shaneese, to T’mar’s evident relief, decided to remain behind. Tullea was quietly insistent that she and B’nik also remain behind.
“Someone’s got to handle things if you get lost,” Tullea declared.
“We need to handle this like altitude sickness,” K’lior warned the two Weyrwomen as they prepared for their jump.
“Any sign of chills, tingles, and we jump right back,” Fiona said in agreement.
“What are we looking for?” Cisca said, looking toward Fiona.
“Someplace suitable for weyrlings,” Fiona replied.
They climbed their dragons, rose in the air, gathered by the Star Stones and went between.
Fiona followed Zirenth’s coordinates, adjusting for the change in time so that Fort and High Reaches were bathed in the morning light that had yet to roll toward them. She paused only a moment to gaze in wonder at the great, blinding ships hovering soundlessly above her, then craned her head over Talenth’s neck, instinctively grabbing tighter to her riding straps as she peered down to the planet so far below.
She could see the coastline, could see the sea beyond and—Go there!
A moment later they hung alone in the sky, still hovering near the Dawn Sisters but later in the day, with the far side of Pern below her.
That’s it! Fiona declared. A moment later, Cisca on Melirth and K’lior on Rineth burst into existence beside her.
You scared them! Melirth relayed in an aggrieved tone.
Sorry, Fiona responded. Look down.
Dragons and riders looked below.
We’ve found it, Fiona thought. Let’s tell the others.
A moment later only the great ships remained, still silent, still watching.
They were not alone for long, as Sonia, D’vin, Dali
a, and S’maj took their turn, looking down in surprise and awe at the beautiful blue planet below.
“It seems a waste that our ancestors could come all this way and not foresee the Red Star,” D’vin said when they’d all gathered in the Kitchen Cavern to relate their experiences.
At Fiona’s urging and their general acceptance, the Weyrleaders and Weyrwomen shared their reminiscences with everyone who wanted to listen.
Talenth, Fiona cautioned, be certain that no dragon goes to the Dawn Sisters without my permission.
I have told them.
And?
They wonder why anyone would wish to make the journey, the queen said. I told them that it was cold and the air went bad quickly.
Fiona smiled, wondering if Talenth had chosen her words to dissuade the others.
“It was so beautiful it made your eyes water,” Cisca explained to a group of interested riders.
Beyond her, D’vin waxed eloquent about the huge ships that had brought them so far. “They were white, brilliant, blazing white in the sunlight, yet there were darker places, perhaps where windows looked out to the stars.”
“But why, if that island is so great,” Tullea wondered, “has no one ever been there before?”
“Maybe they didn’t have a need,” B’nik suggested.
“Or our ancestors were too busy settling this continent to worry about the other,” Fiona said with a shrug. “It’s much smaller than ours.”
“Wouldn’t that make it easier to defend?” Tullea persisted, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And there’s no hint of it in the Records.”
“Not all Records survived the fire at the Harper Hall during the Plague,” Fiona reminded her, feeling a pang out of loyalty to Kindan. “And, again, it may just not have seemed as important to preserve that Record as it was to preserve others.”
“So Lorana’s taken all the weyrlings to a place no one’s ever been before,” Tullea mused, sounding much like her normal sour self. “How safe is that?”
“I suppose the better question, now that we know where she’s taken them, is when?” T’mar put in.
“Well, there’s one way to find out,” Fiona said, rising from her chair and alerting Talenth as she strode toward the Weyr Bowl.
“How?” Tullea demanded.
“I’ll ask her.”
T’mar and the others opened their mouths to begin the many reasonable objections that Fiona knew they would raise—that she was pregnant; that she didn’t know where to find Lorana; that it was too risky. Fiona didn’t wait. She would be careful, but before anyone could give voice to their objections, Fiona climbed on top of Talenth and, with a single leap, they went between.
“How can she know when to go?” Tullea asked crossly.
“She knows where she was,” T’mar said, rising himself and signaling Zirenth to meet him. “If you’ll excuse me.”
H’nez followed him out. “What should we do in your absence?”
“I won’t be gone long, I promise,” T’mar told him with a smile. “But in the meantime, I’d like you to be senior leader; coordinate with C’tov and don’t forget that he’s the older.”
Surprisingly, the tall wiry rider took no offense at T’mar’s words. “I’ll do my best.”
“Good man!” T’mar called as he clambered up Zirenth’s side and hoisted himself into position. Checking to be certain the area around him was clear, T’mar urged Zirenth up and instantly between.
They arrived in the dead of night, gold leading bronze. Fiona waved over her shoulder in acknowledgment as they glided to a landing. She urged Talenth to bring them to the Hatching Grounds at Telgar. Zirenth followed.
“What now?” T’mar asked as he climbed down to stand beside Fiona.
“We wait,” Fiona told him. She slumped slightly as the drain of being in the same time more than once crashed in on her. “And try to stay awake.”
“I’ll take first watch,” T’mar offered. Fiona nodded, leaning lightly against him.
They did not have to wait long, no more than an hour passed before Fiona felt a terrible pain in her head and grabbed T’mar’s shoulder both for support and in warning. Even as he reached to steady her, they saw the shape of a large dragon glide to the ground and a lithe figure dismount.
“You’d better ask her,” Fiona managed in a hoarse whisper, her eyes full of pain.
“Why?”
“Because that’s me over there,” Fiona told him, even as her knees buckled. “Be quick, she can’t feel any better about this than I.”
T’mar walked briskly toward the gold rider who seemed to know he would be there and was moving in his direction already.
“You’ve got to go,” the other Fiona called urgently. “It’s too much, you’ve got to go! There are three of me here at this very moment.”
“When did you go?”
“Three Turns,” the other Fiona told him, wincing at the sound of his voice. “Now take her and go, go quickly!”
Even as she said this, they spotted a figure walking quickly down the queens’ ledge toward them. It was Kindan.
T’mar glanced at him in understanding, then nodded to the other Fiona and raced back to the Hatching Grounds. His Fiona was on the ground, heaving. Gently he raised her up and helped her climb to her position on Talenth’s neck, strapping her in tightly.
“I’ll give the coordinates,” T’mar told her. Fiona managed a bare nod, her whole body trembling.
“Quickly!”
T’mar raced back to Zirenth, strapped himself in, and urged the bronze out of the Hatching Grounds even as he relayed the same order to Talenth. Together the pair of riders and dragons took a quick leap and, on T’mar’s image, went between, back to the sun of Telgar the morning after.
“Shaneese!” T’mar roared as soon as Zirenth came to a stop. “Help Fiona!”
“What’s she done now?” Shaneese asked, running out and gazing up at the Weyrwoman worriedly.
“She was in the same place three times last night,” T’mar explained as he leaped down from Zirenth’s neck, bracing his knees to absorb the impact.
D’vin and Sonia lent a hand and soon they had Fiona seated in the Kitchen Cavern with a cup of fresh-squeezed juice by her side.
“Well,” Fiona said weakly, “we knew when they went.”
“But why only three Turns?” D’vin wondered, shaking his head.
“We’ll have to ask them when we get there,” Fiona said. T’mar gave her a rebellious look and she smiled at him weakly before closing her eyes as the room started to spin.
West of Tillek, east of Benden
Halfway around the world.
Far lands, strange lands,
Large lands, Great Islands.
Lorana had Minith land carefully on the driest, stoniest part of the ground near the shore and waited, still perched on the queen’s back for several minutes, just listening.
She was fortunate to have had enough experience with J’trel to have learned something of woodcraft and knew that it was perilous to move too quickly or act with too much assurance.
“The first mistake will be your last,” her father had once told her. It was sad and true both; he’d been talking about herdbeasts—and it had been his mistake with the crazed herdbeast that had kicked him in the head that killed him. He’d been working with the animals all his life; it had taken only the one mistake to end it.
“Let’s try farther up the coast,” Lorana said, guiding Minith back into the air. They glided up the coast, with Lorana urging Minith to take occasional forays inland before returning to the coastline once more. When she spotted another rocky outcropping, she had Minith hover above it for several minutes. Something about it looked forbidding, Lorana had no idea what until, after a few minutes, she saw something streak across the rock and leap toward them.
Up!
Minith responded instantly to Lorana’s order and beat her way high into the air even as Lorana craned her neck over, trying to identify the strange att
acker.
What would consider attacking a dragon?
This was a place to be treated warily. Lorana had Minith wait several more minutes to see if she could spot further movement, in vain.
Can we go back to the first spot? Minith asked. I’d like to rest.
Let’s go back to Red Butte, Lorana said. We can rest safely there.
Lorana was shocked when they arrived to realize that, ten Turns back from the start of the Third Pass, there was no rock cairn to mark Tenniz’s resting place.
He was still alive.
It was early in the summer’s day she’d chosen, the sun was high enough that the rocks had been warmed and the early breeze had died down to wisps of wind. Lorana and Minith soon found themselves stretched out, the ex-dragonrider leaning against the exhausted queen and, in short order, they were asleep.
They woke late that night, cold but rested. Lorana took them forward to the next day, near Igen, where she found several strong wild herdbeasts. She had Minith catch one and they hauled it back to what she had started to call the Great Isle. She let the beast go on the barren spot of rock they’d found and returned for another, repeating the effort until she’d brought a good dozen, half of whom were male, judging by their horns.
Now, let’s go see what we find, Lorana thought to the queen as she imagined the same place seven Turns in the future. The weyrlings would need the three Turns before the start of the Third Pass in which to grow to maturity, but she wanted to give her small herd enough time to grow and populate the island before she brought in dragon hunters.
The leap forward in time was a long one, though not as long as her leap to the end of the Pass. She noted that Minith was pale with exhaustion at the end of it and regretted how hard she’d treated the willing queen.
It is necessary, Minith thought back, as they circled the island. Lorana was thrilled when she first spotted one of the herdbeasts descended from her flock. They followed it until it met up with a large herd that ran away from the dragon above them, joining with a larger herd and then a larger herd until it seemed that the whole plain teamed with herdbeasts.
Dragon’s Time: Dragonriders of Pern Page 24