By Todd McCaffrey
Published by Ballantine Books
DRAGONHOLDER
DRAGONSBLOOD
DRAGONHEART
By Anne McCaffrey and Todd McCaffrey
DRAGON’S KIN
DRAGON’S FIRE
DRAGON HARPER
This one is just for Ladybug.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
No one truly labors alone, authors in particular, and I’d like to acknowledge those who helped bring this book to fruition.
First, of course, I’d like to say thanks to my mother, Anne McCaffrey, for continuing to allow me to play in her sandbox.
Second, I’d like to thank my marvelous first readers: Angelina Adams, Margaret Johnson, Susan Martin, and Pam Bennett-Skinner. Their comments allowed me to make this book much much better than it otherwise would have been.
Shelly Shapiro, editor par excellence at Del Rey did not shy from her role of demanding the very best I could give, and Martha Trachtenberg once more performed a marvelous job of copyediting. They are definitely a great team.
Judith Welsh, my editor at Transworld, once again provided her insights and support, working seamlessly with the editors at Del Rey to allow us to produce one consistent editorial voice.
And finally, I’d like to thank Don Maass, my agent and first-first reader.
Despite everyone’s efforts, there are probably some errors in this book—that’s just the nature of the beast. As the guy who ultimately determines what goes into the book, those errors are all mine.
FOR READERS NEW TO PERN
Thousands of years after man first developed interstellar travel, colonists from Earth, Tau Ceti III, and many other worlds settled upon Pern, the third planet of the star Rukbat in the Sagittarius sector.
They found Pern idyllic for their purposes: a pastoral world far off the standard trade routes and perfect for those recovering from the horrors of the Nathi Wars.
Led by the hero Admiral Paul Benden, and Governor Emily Boll of war-torn Tau Ceti, the colonists quickly abandoned their star-traveling technology in favor of a simpler life. For eight years—“Turns,” as they called them on Pern—the settlers spread and multiplied on Pern’s lush Southern Continent, unaware that a menace was fast approaching: the Red Star.
The Red Star, as the colonists came to call it, was actually a wandering planetoid that had been captured by Rukbat millennia before. It had a highly elliptical, cometary orbit, passing through the fringes of the system’s Oort Cloud before hurtling back inward toward the warmth of the sun, a cycle that took two hundred and fifty Turns.
For fifty of those Turns, the Red Star was visible in the night sky of Pern. Visible and deadly, for when the Red Star was close enough, as it was for those fifty long Turns, a space-traveling spore could cross the void from it to Pern. Once it entered the tenuous upper atmosphere, the spore would thin out into a long, narrow, streamer shape and float down to the ground below, as seemingly harmless “Threads.”
Like all living things, however, Thread needed sustenance. It was highly evolved—it ate anything organic: wood or flesh, it was all the same to Thread.
The first deadly Fall of Thread caught the colonists completely unawares. They barely survived. In the aftermath they came up with a desperate plan: Having abandoned their high technology, they turned to their remaining ability in genetic engineering to create a shield against the recurrent threat. They used life-forms indigenous to Pern, six-limbed, winged, fire-lizards that were genetically modified and enhanced to produce huge, rideable fire-breathing dragons. These dragons, telepathically linked at birth to their riders, formed the mainstay of the protection of Pern. In their haste to provide protection to their new homeworld, the colonists devised many other solutions. Some were forgotten or dismissed as ineffective.
The approach of the Red Star brought not only the mindless Thread but produced tremendous additional stresses on Pern itself. The tectonically active Southern Continent heaved with volcanoes and earthquakes, providing an additional menace that proved too much for the colonists—hastily they abandoned their original settlements and moved to the smaller, stabler Northern Continent. In their haste, much was lost and much was forgotten.
Huddled in one settlement, called Fort Hold, the colonists soon discovered themselves overcrowded, particularly with the growing dragon population. So the dragons moved into their own high mountain space, which they called Fort Weyr. As time progressed and the population spread across Pern, more Holds were formed and more Weyrs were created by the dragonriders.
Given their great losses, particularly in able-bodied older folk, the people of Fort and the other Holds soon found themselves resorting to authoritarian systems under which one Lord Holder became the ultimate authority of the Hold.
The Weyrs, with their different needs, developed differently. Unable to both provide for themselves and protect the planet, the dragonriders relied upon a tithe from the Holds for their maintenance. Instead of a Lord Holder, they had a Weyrleader—the rider of whichever dragon flew the Weyr’s senior queen.
And so the two populations grew separate, distant, and somewhat intolerant of each other.
The Red Star grew fainter, Thread stopped falling. Then, after a two hundred Turn “Interval,” it returned again to rain death and destruction from the skies for another fifty-Turn “Pass.” Again, Pern relied on fragile dragon wings and their staunch riders to keep it Thread-free. And, again, the Pass ended, and a second Interval began.
Just at the beginning of the Third Pass, a new disaster struck—dragons started dying of a strange unknown disease. With his Weyr’s ranks decimated not just by injuries and losses from fighting Thread but also from the deaths caused by this new plague, Weyrleader K’lior of Fort Weyr decided upon a desperate course of action and sent his injured dragons and riders ten Turns back in time to abandoned Igen Weyr where they might heal and return in time to fight the next Threadfall.
That same night, Fiona, Fort Weyr’s newest and youngest queen rider, was wondering how the convalescent riders would fare, when a strange queen rider arrived and offered to bring her and her weyrling back in time to Igen Weyr. Fiona and the other weyrlings accepted. Their desperate jump between time proved fabulously successful and, after spending three Turns living and growing in the past, they returned to Fort Weyr with the recovered dragons and riders—a mere three days’ time after they’d left.
But the plague is still killing dragons, the Weyrs are still fighting shorthanded—and no one knows whether Pern will survive.
CHRONOLOGY OF THE SECOND INTERVAL/THIRD PASS
DATE (AL) EVENT BOOK
492.4 Marriage: Terregar and Silstra Dragon’s Kin
493.10 Kisk Hatches Dragons’ Kin
494.1 Kindan to Harper Hall Dragon’s Kin
495.8 C’tov Impresses Sereth Dragon’s Fire
496.8 Plague Starts Dragon Harper
497.5 Plague Ends Dragon Harper
498.7.2 Fort Weyr riders arrive back in time at Igen Weyr Dragonsblood, Dragonheart
501.3.18 Fort Weyr riders return from Igen Weyr Dragonheart
507.11.17 Fiona Impresses Talenth Dragonheart
507.12.20 Lorana Impresses Arith Dragonsblood
508.1.7 Start of Third Pass Dragonsblood, Dragonheart
508.1.19 Arith goes between Dragonsblood, Dragonheart
508.1.27 Fort Weyr riders time it back ten Turns to Igen Weyr Dragonsblood, Dragonheart
508.2.2 Fort Weyr riders return from Igen Weyr Dragonsblood, Dragonheart
ON PERNESE TIME:
The Pernese date their time from their arrival on Pern, referring to each Turn as “After Landing” (AL).
The Pernese calendar is composed of thirteen months, each of twenty-eight days (four weeks,
or sevendays) with a special “Turnover” day at the end of each Turn for a total of 365 days.
CONTENTS
Other Books by this Author
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
For Readers New to Pern
Chronology of the Second Interval/Third Pass
ONE Fort Weyr, AL 508.2.2
TWO Fort Weyr, AL 508.2.5
THREE Fort Weyr, AL 508.2.6
FOUR Fort Weyr, early morning, AL 508.2.7
FIVE Fort Weyr, later, AL 508.2.8
SIX Telgar Weyr, later, AL 508.2.8
SEVEN Telgar Weyr, early morning, AL 508.2.9
EIGHT Telgar Weyr, late evening, AL 508.2.9
NINE Telgar Weyr, early morning, AL 508.2.10
TEN Telgar Weyr, later, AL 508.2.10
ELEVEN Telgar Weyr, late evening, AL 508.2.10
TWELVE Telgar Weyr, Threadfall, AL 508.2.11
THIRTEEN Telgar Weyr, morning, AL 508.2.13
FOURTEEN Telgar Weyr, morning, AL 508.2.15
FIFTEEN Telgar Weyr, next morning, AL 508.2.16
SIXTEEN Telgar Weyr, morning, AL 508.4.15
SEVENTEEN Ista Weyr, afternoon, AL 508.5.5
EIGHTEEN Keroon Threadfall, morning, AL 508.5.21
NINETEEN Telgar Weyr, evening, AL 508.5.26
TWENTY Telgar Weyr, early morning, AL 508.6.19
TWENTY-ONE Telgar Weyr, evening, AL 508.6.25
TWENTY-TWO Telgar Weyr, morning, AL 508.6.28
TWENTY-THREE Telgar Weyr, early evening, AL 508.7.17
TWENTY-FOUR Fort Weyr, second hour, AL 507.11.18,
Second Interval
EPILOGUE Telgar Weyr, evening, AL 508.7.21
About the Author
Copyright
ONE
Heart, give voice to sing
Of life on dragon wings!
Fort Weyr, AL 508.2.2
It was still snowing, and cold. Fiona shivered, wishing she hadn’t outgrown her warm fur-lined leathers. Back in hot Igen, heavy clothing had been out of place, but here, at Fort Weyr, it was invaluable.
Her nose and lungs froze as she took another breath. Frantically, she pulled a portion of her thin scarf up to cover her nose; the air was easier to breathe that way, but her breath fogged her vision.
It had been an age for her since that time—only days ago here—when the strange gold rider had come:
“Get dressed,” the rider had said. “We must be quick. We can’t wake the others.”
Fiona had had only an instant to decide: a rash plunge into the unknown. Why had she taken it?
But she had; and for three Turns she’d been Weyrwoman of Igen Weyr, which had been abandoned until she and the other Fort dragonriders had gone back ten Turns in time to use it as a place to grow and heal … She’d learned to trade, learned to fly, and learned what it meant to be a Weyrwoman.
She had nearly seventeen Turns now, but here, back in her own time, they still thought her not yet fourteen. A part of her longed for that, longed to give the responsibility for decisions to others, to rest and relax and just focus on raising her queen.
Her queen. Beautiful Talenth had grown, had become a queen in all her glory, ready for her first mating flight, ready to add her hatchlings to the dragons of Pern.
When Fiona had realized that, had really understood, she had turned to T’mar. The bronze rider had been her mentor, her trainer, and the Weyrleader of the small group of injured and immature riders who had accompanied her back in time. He had been the one person who could help her take that next step in becoming a queen rider. There was a bond between them, she knew it. More than shared peril, more than shared times. He had a piece of her heart, freely given. But, she thought with a breath of the cold air, he didn’t have it all.
Kindan. He was also there, on her horizon. As a child, she had loved him, while he had loved her older sister, Koriana. During her time at Igen, in the past, she had met him again, but she’d been older, and he hadn’t recognized her. Now, as a grown woman, she had discovered that her feelings for him were no less than they’d been when she was a girl. Did she love him, she challenged herself, or did she just want to prove that she was as good as Koriana, whom he’d held in his arms as she died?
“Are you ready?” Terin asked, from her perch in front of Fiona.
“I’m ready,” Fiona said, moving her scarf away and glancing down to the Weyr Bowl below.
The older riders had already landed. T’mar was being embraced by Weyrleader K’lior, and there, to one side, stood dark-haired, quiet Xhinna.
“Oh, please, let’s land by Xhinna!” Terin said, as she spotted the weyrgirl. “Wait until she sees that I’m taller than her now!”
Three Turns. Three days. Xhinna had been her best friend before she’d left for Igen, but much had happened since, and Fiona realized that Xhinna had become a memory, nearly lost in all that time. Now Xhinna was only three days older, while Fiona had aged three Turns. Could they just pick up where they had left off? Or start anew?
Seeing Cisca, Fort’s Weyrwoman, walking toward her as she leaped down from Talenth aroused further apprehension. At Igen, Fiona had been a Weyrwoman among boys and injured riders. Could she now return to her junior role under Cisca? It would be safe, she knew. It would be easy, too. But the part of her that stored and cherished the images of her father and Kindan, both so strong and determined, urged her to do more. And then Fiona wondered: Were leaders always scared?
If it was any warmer down in the Weyr Bowl, Fiona couldn’t tell it from the cold stares she received. She couldn’t place the reaction at first, until she realized: They didn’t recognize her.
Terin’s hand slipped into hers and Fiona guessed that the younger girl was coming to the same realization. Terin waved her free hand at Xhinna. “Xhinna, it’s me!”
The weyrgirl turned in their direction, her blue eyes sad and careworn.
“She looks like she lost her best friend,” Terin said to Fiona.
“She has,” Cisca said, having gotten close enough to overhear. Fiona looked at her, surprised that she was nearly eye level with the Weyrwoman. “Three days ago the weyrlings and—”
Even Cisca didn’t know who she was. Fiona felt a lump in her throat. It was hard to speak. “Me, Weyrwoman.”
“The gold rider brought us,” Terin said, glancing up to Cisca and then quickly away, her eyes drifting back to Xhinna.
Cisca was staring intently at Fiona, studying her face. Then she let out a sob. “Fiona?” She grabbed Fiona and clutched her tightly, bruisingly, and Fiona felt guilty as the Weyrwoman’s hot tears rained down on her. “We thought—” She pushed away from Fiona, her face clouding as anger replaced relief.
“I brought them back, Cisca,” Fiona said hurriedly, waving an arm to the riders and dragons behind her, hoping to avoid the Weyrwoman’s wrath. “They’re ready to fight. All of them.”
Cisca looked beyond her to the riders and dragons in the Weyr Bowl. “The weyrlings?”
“Trained and ready,” Fiona said, letting justifiable pride creep into her voice. This much she had done. She had fought, she had succeeded, she had overcome her own fears and kept them hidden from all: She had been a Weyrwoman.
Fiona stirred slowly to wakefulness, feeling surprised at the warmth around her. She vaguely remembered crawling out of her bed with her blankets draped over her and curling up against Talenth, but now she felt another body lying against her, pressing her more tightly against her queen.
As tired as she’d been, she’d made her full report to Cisca and then had carefully explained to Terin that she needed to make amends with Xhinna and would it be all right if Terin found some other place to sleep that night?
Terin had been too quick to agree; Fiona suspected that her request had been used as an excuse by the strawberry-haired teen to seek out the handsome F’jian.
The other body shifted away quickly and Fiona groaned.
“I’m sorry,” a voice spoke as
the other person jumped to her feet. It was Xhinna.
“Don’t be,” Fiona replied, turning to look up at her and gesturing invitingly for Xhinna to rejoin her. “I’m certain that I was freezing until you came.” She made a face. “I don’t know how I’ll adjust to this cold again.”
Only slightly relieved, Xhinna sat back down beside her. With an irritated sigh, Fiona pulled her close. “There,” she murmured, “warmer.”
Xhinna remained tense beside her. Fiona opened one eye and saw that the younger girl was eyeing her with a mixture of trepidation, assessment, and fear. Fiona opened both eyes, turned, drew Xhinna’s head toward hers and laid a sisterly kiss on the girl’s forehead.
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t bring you with us,” Fiona murmured in her ear. She pulled back enough to stare Xhinna in the eyes. “I love you, you are a dear friend, and I missed you.”
“But you’re so old now!”
Fiona could feel the many levels on which Xhinna made the comment and nodded slightly.
“I am,” Fiona agreed with a twist of her lips. “Do you still want to be friends?”
Xhinna pursed her lips but said nothing, instead closing her eyes and leaning back against Fiona. A small sound escaped her lips, perhaps a sob, perhaps a sigh of contentment … or acceptance.
Melanwy, the aged ex-headwoman who had gone between forever with Weyrwoman Tannaz only a short time ago for Xhinna, and that same short time plus three whole Turns for Fiona’s time-jumping self, had scorned and loathed Xhinna because of the young girl’s nature. That same nature which had made certain that she would never Impress a queen dragon. But Fiona had accepted Xhinna for who she was—just as she had accepted blue rider F’dan for who he was. Everyone had a heart; just because different things set them beating didn’t mean that there wasn’t something for Fiona to love in all of them.
She knew that if she were to continue to be Xhinna’s friend, she had to make Xhinna comfortable in the knowledge that she would never be her lover but also make it clear that she would always accept Xhinna’s love. The two things were different, something Fiona grasped at a level beneath conscious thought even though, until very recently, she had never experienced the difference between loving and having a lover.
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