Dragonheart

A smile crossed Fiona’s lips as she sent a silent thank-you to the late ex-dragonrider, wondering to herself if his Sight came from trader blood. “First, could I get something to drink? I’m parched.”

Half an hour later, Fiona was seated cross-legged on the dirt-packed floor of a dimly lit cavern, drinking from a mug of cool water, aware of many eyes inspecting her, most of them young.

“There’s more of them every time a green or gold rises,” Arella murmured as she affectionately tusseled the hair of one of the younger boys, who bore a marked resemblance to her. She eyed Fiona speculatively. “You’ve not experienced a mating flight yet, have you?”

Fiona shook her head. Jaythen snorted at some secret joke, and Fiona eyed him disdainfully.

“Bet you’ll have less of a swagger when you do!” Jaythen declared knowingly. Fiona glowered in response.

“Jaythen!” Arella growled at him, shaking her head and apologizing to Fiona: “Men don’t know anything.”

“I’ve noticed,” Fiona replied, keeping her eyes firmly on Jaythen.

The wherhandler held her eyes for a moment longer, then laughed. “You’ve nerve enough, that I’ll grant!”

“ ‘Needs drive when Thread arrives,’ ” Fiona responded, quoting the old saying.

“There’s no Thread here,” Jaythen declared.

“Yet.” Fiona’s tone was implacable. Jaythen bristled, but Arella calmed him by placing a hand on his knee, her eyes challenging Fiona to continue.

“Where I come from we’ve been fighting Thread for nearly three sevendays now,” Fiona told them. She paused at the brink of telling them of the dragon sickness — so far no one in this time had been told of it. And yet, how could she explain why she’d had to banish the fire-lizards?

“We’ve been losing dragons not only to Thread but also to a sickness,” she said finally, plunging into the heart of the matter. She continued quickly, “The fire-lizards caught it first, which is why I had Talenth send yours away — we don’t know how, where, or when they got the illness.” She shrugged. “We don’t even know if they gave it to the dragons.”

“How many dragons have this illness?” Arella asked, ignoring the suspicion roiling from Jaythen in nearly visible waves.

“I don’t know,” Fiona told her honestly. “At — ” She paused again, then plunged on. “ — at Fort Weyr we had eighteen that were feverish when I left and — ”

“Eighteen?” Jaythen cut her off, snorting derisively. “That’s nothing!”

“How long are they ill?” Arella asked.

“We don’t know for certain,” Fiona told her. “None have recovered.”

“It’s only eighteen,” Jaythen said dismissively.

“There’s more,” Arella decided, gesturing for Fiona to proceed.

Fiona took a deep breath before continuing, “The Weyr is understrength. We’ve only seventy-two fighting dragons — ”

“What?” Arella cried in surprise. “There are more than that at Fort Weyr today!”

“Did you lose that many dragons to Thread?” Jaythen asked.

Fiona shook her head. “We lost most of them to the sickness.”

Arella turned to Jaythen with an expression of horror. His sneer slid off his face and his whole demeanor changed as he asked quietly, “How many?”

“Since we first identified the illness, we’ve lost one hundred and eleven dragons,” Fiona told them grimly. “Some died from Threadscore, but most from the sickness.”

“What about the other Weyrs?” he asked respectfully.

“I don’t know about all of them,” Fiona replied. “Some have cut themselves off from the rest of Pern.” The two wherhandlers nodded in sympathy. “We’re not the worst hurt. That would be Ista — I hear that they have barely one wing’s worth of fighting dragons.”

“How can they protect the holders?” Arella asked.

“Benden and Fort Weyrs have agreed to fly in their aid,” Fiona said. “But we don’t know how much longer we can hold on. We’ve less than a Flight ourselves and even with — ” She cut herself off abruptly. Should she tell them about the watch-whers and their night flight?

“Even with what?” Arella prompted.

“Our last two Falls were at night,” Fiona said in preparation.

“Dragons don’t see well at night,” Jaythen remarked thoughtfully.

“Watch-whers do!” Arella exclaimed. She jerked her head toward Fiona and grinned. “Mikal and M’tal, Benden’s Weyrleader, have been prodding Mother to train the watch-whers to fight Thread at night.” Her grin faded and she shook her head. “But she refuses.”

“Maybe she’ll change her mind,” Fiona said hopefully. She knew  that watch-whers had flown Thread at night but she didn’t know if those watch-whers had any relation with the ones here, now, at the wherhold.

“I don’t think she will,” Jaythen said.

“My mother is old and set in her ways,” Arella explained. “The Plague and Mikal’s death have been hard on her.”

Jaythen, who had been silently grappling with his own thoughts, spoke up again. “What I want to know, future girl, is what we have that you want.”

“If you’re really from the future then you know what happens,” Arella said, eyeing Fiona speculatively.

“Not entirely,” Fiona admitted. “I know what happens to me  and to those around me that I care about.”

Arella gave her a dubious look, so Fiona continued. “As you say, I’ve four Turns in this time — do you expect that I would be learning every single thing that goes on in Pern at such an age?”

“A Lord Holder’s daughter?” Jaythen snorted. “I’d expect you to know more than your Turns would suggest.”

“I do,” Fiona agreed. “But I learned most of that when I was older.” She paused reflectively. “At this age I was just discovering Forsk’s lair.” She smiled at the memory. “She was the biggest thing I’d ever seen and her eyes were — ”

“You met Fort’s watch-wher?” Jaythen interrupted.

“I used to sleep with her,” Fiona told him, smiling fondly. “Father got so annoyed, but not nearly as angry as when I took her off after tunnel snakes.”

“You caught tunnel snakes with a watch-wher?” Jaythen repeated, astonished.

“Not until I was older,” Fiona confessed. “I think I had just turned six when I caught my first one.” She grinned. “Don’t tell Father or he’ll forbid me altogether. But I earned a quarter-mark each!”

“Are you saying he didn’t  forbid you?” Arella asked with all the protectiveness of a parent.

“Well, he was always surprised at how I always seemed to have spare pocket money,” Fiona confessed, “but I was careful never to spend too much.”

“And he never forbade you?”

“No,” Fiona said, smiling at the memories. “I was very careful to arrange it that he never got around to it.” Arella gave her a perplexed look and she explained, “I mean, whenever the subject came up, I made it clear that I understood the dangers involved and my responsibilities to be an example for the Hold.”

“And never quite got around to saying that you wouldn’t go after tunnel snakes!” Jaythen snorted appreciatively. He turned, grinning, to Arella. “Almost as devious as some others I could mention!”

“Doubtless all women,” Arella agreed with an evil grin. “Something you should bear firmly in mind.”

Jaythen’s grin slipped. Arella savored his reaction before turning back to Fiona.

“But, as you did with your father, you have avoided answering the question of what are you doing here.”

Fiona thought for a moment, weighing her options and choices. Finally, she chose the direct approach. “We want to trade for your queen egg.”

“Why? If, as you say, you have a queen of your own, what makes you think you can have two?” Arella replied.