Sky Dragons: Dragonriders of Pern

by Anne McCaffrey

  “If those eggs hatch,” V’lex said, “T’rennor will have a different chance than I did.” He paused for a moment, giving Xhinna an opening to question him, but she knew what he meant—that T’rennor would be able to be more than a mere green rider: He would have the chance to be parent to dragonets and weyrlings.

  “T’rennor already has a different chance,” Xhinna told him staunchly. V’lex looked startled. “He’s got you, green rider. That gives him an example that I doubt you ever had.”

  V’lex considered her words and his stance altered, became more upright and decisive. Yes, a different man, Xhinna mused. I was wrong to judge him. “So, green rider,” she asked, holding out her hand, “are you ready to break more traditions?”

  A smile slowly spread across his face. He reached for her hand and then, with a graceful pull, brought her into a tight hug. Emotion warped his voice as he spoke firmly into her ear, “Yes, Wingleader, I am.”

  “Good, then here’s what I want you to do,” Xhinna said, hugging him tightly before pushing back so that she could meet his eyes.

  “What, Wingleader?”

  She told him. She was careful in her explanation and blunt in her language, causing him to blush at least twice.

  “Just as hard?” V’lex asked when she’d finished.

  “Harder,” Xhinna said emphatically. “I want no one to think you were kindhearted.”

  “But—”

  “You’re going to ride Fall with them, so do what you must, green rider,” Xhinna said firmly.

  “J’keran—”

  “Isn’t here,” Xhinna reminded him. “And he rides a brown. So he doesn’t understand about blues and greens.”

  V’lex’s eyes lit and he nodded emphatically. “No, Wingleader, he certainly doesn’t!”

  “I’ll let X’lerin know.”

  “And the boy?” V’lex inquired. “J’riz?”

  “Certainly the boy,” Xhinna said. “He rides a green; he needs to know.”

  “So that’s four greens and two blues?” V’lex asked, verifying the numbers.

  “Danirry will have to catch up, she’s off with R’ney on survey,” Xhinna said. “But I expect you to schedule that with her, don’t let her shirk.”

  “She’s the scrawny one, isn’t she?”

  “She was starved and sold the last thing she had for food,” Xhinna told him.

  “Did they catch the man?” V’lex asked, his features suddenly hard, his hand going to his belt knife. Xhinna’s respect for him rose another notch.

  “No,” she replied with the same set expression. V’lex noted it and for a moment they stood reevaluating each other, finding the defensive, guiding parent that was part of the core of each of them.

  “You’d’ve taken care of him if they had,” V’lex said, loosening his grip on his knife and smiling at Xhinna.

  “Justice is now in letting her heal, letting her see that not all men take,” Xhinna said.

  “I’ll bear that in mind.”

  “She’s got a strong will and a good heart, green rider,” Xhinna said.

  “And she looks manly,” V’lex said, as though it were a compliment. He nodded to himself. “She’ll ride her blue well, she’s got a good conformation.”

  “She’s not a dragon, V’lex!” Xhinna said in exasperation. “It’s ‘physique’ you mean.”

  “Physique, then,” V’lex said. “I’m not all that good with words.”

  “Well,” Xhinna said to ease any hurt feelings, “she might prefer conformation to physique.”

  “She might at that,” V’lex agreed. He smiled at the wingleader, adding, “And, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll try to make her ‘physique’ more womanly—put enough weight on her bones that she won’t be pulled off her dragon by the first sack of firestone tossed her way.”

  “Do that, please.”

  “So we’re going to have V’lex and T’rennor instruct the blue and green weyrlings,” Xhinna concluded the next day when she met with X’lerin.

  “And with them involved with the blues and the greens, they’re not likely to think of running off to J’keran,” X’lerin said, nodding in approval.

  “I don’t think V’lex is likely to throw in with J’keran now,” Xhinna said.

  “Why don’t we find them?” W’vin asked. “They can’t be too far if they’re stealing from us.”

  “They could be Turns away,” Xhinna reminded them. “They could be Turns in the past, even in the future—”

  “What about Thread?” X’lerin asked.

  Xhinna shrugged. “In the past, then.”

  “But you don’t think so,” Jirana said, piping up from beside X’lerin’s wingsecond. Xhinna glared at her, willing her to be silent, but the youngster continued, “You love her—why don’t you find her?”

  Xhinna sighed as she saw how W’vin and X’lerin reacted to the question. It was the too-reasonable question she’d hoped she wouldn’t have to answer, the one that hurt the most, that caused her to cry silently when she was sure everyone was sleeping.

  “I can hear you,” Jirana said quietly, looking Xhinna in the eyes.

  Xhinna gave the brown-eyed girl a sad smile and ran a hand through her short dark hair.

  “We don’t know—yet—how to protect the eggs from the Mrreows and the tunnel snakes.” She paused. “Taria was certain that the Mrreows would kill the tunnel snakes, but I’m convinced that the Mrreows are as much a threat to the dragonets as the tunnel snakes.”

  “So you’re gambling,” X’lerin said, looking at her in surprise and sympathy. “You’re gambling with the life of the one you love.”

  “And her child,” Xhinna admitted with a catch in her voice. “But if she’s right and I don’t let her try, then what will I do to Pern?”

  “You know,” Jirana said as she came over and hugged Xhinna, “you might try talking to people more.”

  Xhinna glanced cautiously at X’lerin. He grimaced, saying, “I’d guessed.”

  “You did?” Xhinna asked in surprise.

  The bronze rider nodded. “I guessed and I decided to do nothing because I think you’re right,” he told her. “Until we have a full clutch of dragonets hatch out, healthy and whole, we have to try whatever we can.”

  “And so we’re going to try with two clutches,” Xhinna said, looking at Jirana. “With Coranth’s and with Kisorth’s.”

  “That will double our chances of success,” X’lerin agreed. “But when her clutch hatches, how will we know?”

  “She’s got to get Candidates,” Xhinna said.

  “So have we,” X’lerin said, frowning. Suddenly, his expression changed. “Oh! Oh!”

  “I think it’s hard, but I don’t think it’s hard-hearted,” R’ney told her a fortnight later. Xhinna had taken him to a far shore to discuss her decision privately.

  “Bekka says the baby won’t be in any more danger, now that they’ve stopped with that drink of theirs,” Xhinna said.

  “And you practically gave them the best of our supplies,” R’ney said, twitching a grin when he caught her surprised reaction. He pointed to himself. “I have spies everywhere.”

  “Even with Taria?”

  R’ney shook his head ruefully. “Sadly, no.” He looked down at her. “And they’ll clutch soon?”

  “Two weeks, maybe three,” Xhinna said.

  “And after that, we’ll have five weeks to get all the Candidates.”

  “True,” Xhinna agreed. “I’ve some thoughts on that and now that I can fly again, I’ll bring them up with X’lerin and K’dan.”

  “And Bekka, Jepara, Jirana, and your whole gaggle of girls, no doubt,” R’ney said, grinning at her reaction. “And in the end they’ll say, ‘Whatever you think, Xhinna.’ And you know why?”

  “Because I’m a girl,” Xhinna said. She smiled at his look of surprise. “Because I’m the first blue rider who’s a woman, and they know that everyone will be looking to me to see whether a woman can do the job.”


  R’ney said bitterly, “Even if you manage to handle all that’s in front of you, there are some who will still say that girls can’t ride fighting dragons.”

  “Particularly blues,” Xhinna said.

  “Especially blues,” R’ney agreed with a firm nod. “The naysayers would be completely addled and wherry-brained, of course, but that won’t stop them a bit, or they’d have died out Turns before.”

  “So you’re not angry?”

  “I’m worried, scared, horrified, and … slightly terrified at your resolve,” R’ney said. “But I suppose if Lorana can lose her child to save Pern, you would consider no less.”

  “It’s not my child,” Xhinna said. “It’s yours and Taria’s.”

  R’ney snorted. “And who has the name for the child? Who will spend at least half the time diapering the baby?”

  “You will,” Xhinna said with a grin. “I’m planning on sleeping elsewhere until it’s toilet trained.”

  R’ney snorted again with even greater derision.

  “Well, perhaps a third of the time,” Xhinna allowed. “I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your joy.”

  R’ney smiled and waved off her taunt, glancing around abstractedly at the island around them. It wasn’t very large, certainly not enough for a settlement, but it had tree cover and plenty of lush undergrowth. “Do you suppose we could put herdbeasts here?”

  Xhinna started to laugh, but stopped when she examined the island. “Yes, I think we could.”

  “There doubtless would be tunnel snakes,” R’ney said with a sour look. “This whole island mass seems rife with them. I can understand why our esteemed ancestors never considered this lowlying damp piece of misery for a home, but there are certainly no Mrreows or we would have heard them.”

  “The herdbeasts are smart enough to move when the tunnel snakes mass,” Xhinna said. A stray thought niggled her. Something to do with tunnel snakes. Eggs couldn’t move. Oh!

  “R’ney,” she began slowly, “V’lex said something odd about the eggs from Coranth’s Hatching.”

  “V’lex has gotten some sense, I’ll grant but—honestly, Xhinna, he’s not much better than a child at most things.”

  “That’s not fair,” Xhinna said. “He’s not the smartest, but his heart’s in the right place.”

  “Well, he’s certainly amenable,” R’ney agreed with a carefully neutral look. Xhinna growled and shoved a fist into his arm, not hard, but enough to get his attention.

  “He said that J’keran swore that the egg I hit was solid,” Xhinna said. “But I thought you said you saw eggs rolling down to the sea.”

  R’ney stroked his chin absently, his eyes set on the horizon, unseeing. After a moment he glanced back to her. “Five hatched, six rolled down to the sea,” he recalled. “The weyrlings disposed of the others.”

  “Do you—”

  R’ney cut off her words with an upraised hand, stroking his chin once more with the other, as he continued, “Jepara said hers was heavy, so C’nian helped. Meeya couldn’t budge hers until G’rial and D’valor came back from rolling theirs into the sea.” He gave her a bleak look. “Yours was cold, but there was a formed hatchling inside.”

  “Did I kill it?” Xhinna asked, horrified.

  “No, Wingleader, it was already dead,” R’ney told her. “We didn’t see any marks, but perhaps a tunnel snake …”

  “I see,” Xhinna said. Something still bothered her, something he’d said, but she couldn’t bring it to focus.

  “So, if Taria’s using Razz to drive away the tunnel snakes, what are we going to do for Kisorth’s eggs?” R’ney asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  She hadn’t meant to, but somehow Xhinna found herself sleeping alone. The winds that swept over the broom trees made it so she was always cold. Alimma and the other weyrling riders were all camping with V’lex and T’rennor, eyeing Kisorth’s bulging belly in fascination, prepared to help the moment the green started clutching, even though no one had found a better location than the sands. Blue rider P’nallo had joined them and Xhinna guessed that it would be less than a fortnight before all the blue and green riders—except her—were camping in the same location. In that much, her plan of putting V’lex in charge of their training had worked magnificently.

  Jirana was with her mother, who’d been staying with Colfet more and more.

  All of which meant that Xhinna was left to huddle under her blankets cursing the brilliance of her plan that had everyone in the camp warm and snug except her.

  She thought of creeping over to R’ney, but the brown rider was exhausted from another day of surveying with Danirry on Tazith, performing the searches that Xhinna was still too weak to do herself. Xhinna was glad to see Danirry coming out of her shell around R’ney; clearly she felt safe with him, and the effect was that she was slowly recovering from her trauma, learning that some men, at least, could be trusted not to take advantage of her. But all that came at a price for R’ney: The brown rider had little free time in which to engage in his own interests. As it was, he spent all his spare time with Rowerth, oiling and feeding the brown, leaving him to the care of the queen weyrlings only when he had to be away. Xhinna thought that, as with Danirry, R’ney was putting his dragon’s needs entirely before his own, and she worried that the strain was beginning to tell. All of which meant that she couldn’t bother R’ney.

  She shivered. She was just too fardling cold. She thought of crawling in with Jepara, apologizing but begging the very real need for warmth. No, she thought grumpily as she scrunched further down under her blankets, if the eggs could handle the cold sands on the beach, then she could—

  “That’s it!” Xhinna cried, throwing off her covers and pulling on her robe. “R’ney, that’s it!”

  Heedless of her earlier decision, she rushed over to where the brown rider slept. “R’ney, I’ve got it!”

  R’ney, however, was not alone, and realizing that, Xhinna felt herself blush mightitly.

  “What?” R’ney asked.

  The body next to him quivered and a head popped out. Danirry. Her mouth made a big O of surprise when she caught sight of Xhinna, and she said, in a small voice, “I was cold.”

  Xhinna smiled and clambered in on the other side of R’ney, elbowing him over to get into the warmest spot.

  “Shards, you’re freezing!” he yelped when her foot connected with his.

  “And so was that egg!” Xhinna said, grabbing for his pillow and laying her head on it, feeling warm and suddenly very satisfied.

  “What egg?”

  “The one of Coranth’s, the one that was dead,” Xhinna said, closing her eyes and letting the delicious warmth creep all over her. She could have kissed R’ney when he wrapped an arm around her and drew her closer. “The sands aren’t hot,” she explained as she snuggled happily against R’ney’s flat chest.

  “And the eggs froze,” he said with awe and sorrow in his voice.

  “ ’s right,” Xhinna said. “We’ll plan in the morning.”

  And in moments, to R’ney’s amusement, the young wingleader was gently snoring.

  “So what’s the plan?” R’ney asked as he nudged Xhinna awake at first light. “What do we need to build?”

  Beyond him, Danirry murmured in her sleep, objecting to the distraction.

  “Plan?” Xhinna asked sleepily, wondering if perhaps Danirry didn’t have the right of things and that they should wait to rise until the sun warmed them—and then she sat bolt upright. “The eggs—we need to keep them warm.”

  “Oh,” R’ney said.

  “The fire-lizard eggs had to be kept near a hearth, didn’t they?” Danirry asked, propping her head up on one arm.

  “And the Hatching Grounds are always warm—hot even,” Xhinna said, remembering how she’d crept onto the sands so long ago in the vain hope of Impressing the queen egg that had held Fiona’s Talenth.

  “But how did the eggs freeze?” Danirry asked. “The sands were so hot during the day.”<
br />
  “During the day,” R’ney said. “But at night …” Without warning, he threw the blankets off all of them.

  Xhinna screamed as loudly as Danirry at the sudden cold and slapped at R’ney, who gave her an unrepentant look. Danirry clawed for her blankets and pulled them over her, uncovering Xhinna’s feet.

  “And it rained several times, too,” R’ney said.

  “Don’t even think of getting water just to show us,” Xhinna growled.

  “Of course not,” R’ney said as he rose from the bed, carefully tucking Danirry back in and kissing her cheek in apology. Sardonically, he told Xhinna, “I might freeze my wingleader, but I’ve grown out of wetting my own bed.”

  Xhinna rose and found her slippers as R’ney wrapped her robe around her shoulders. Thrusting her arms gratefully into the sleeves, she smiled and then nodded toward the eating area.

  “Why don’t you see if there’s warm klah and, if not, rouse the guards,” she said.

  “I will if it’s really going to take you that long to get dressed,” R’ney said.

  “It will.” Xhinna planned to wrap a large blanket around herself and change within its warmth. She missed the warmth of the Weyr, the comforts of a well-established kitchen, of walls to keep out the wind. Living in the trees had gotten beyond charming and had moved into seedy.

  “When are you going to build us proper Weyrs?” she grumbled to R’ney. A large part of his surveying was dedicated to that problem.

  “I’ve got your Skies—”

  “My Skies?”

  “The blues and the greens,” R’ney said. “They’ve taken to calling themselves ‘Skies.’ ”

  Xhinna shook the word off, motioning for him to continue, determined to talk with Alimma or V’lex when she could. “So the ‘Skies’…?”

  “The Skies are scouting for quarry sites as well as proper Hatching Grounds,” R’ney told her. “And W’vin and some of the others will ferry the first dozen herdbeasts to that island we found once they’ve caught them.”

  “It’s a fair ways to go for food,” Xhinna complained, even as a rope twitched beside them and she began to pull it up. At the end was a large bucket holding a pitcher of warm klah, courtesy of the fire guards. She could smell the scent of baking rolls rising from the ovens. Xhinna leaned over and shouted into the darkness below, “When your relief arrives, come on up and join us!”