Empty, Open, Dusty, Dead - 9. The Long Ride

That evening, they made ready for the journey. Although going between didn’t take very long, Zalna knew all too well how repeated jumps through its freezing nothingness chilled to the bone. They would have to stop every now and then to warm up and to be certain they had the next set of coordinates fixed in their mind. Probably the self-same reason those others had done so, particularly with all of the children and old folk they carried.

‘How did W’sir take it?’ she asked.

‘Fine, once I explained it. He’s not the most imaginative of people.’ T’san packed the tablets into his bag. ‘I’ll take a couple of chunks of firestone, too. Easiest way to start a fire is by dragon flame, plus if anyone does think to try their luck, Huylonth will make them have second thoughts.’

Not for the first time, Zalna regretted Gemalth couldn’t chew firestone. A flamethrower was unwieldy by comparison. She packed klah bark and a kettle, plus some fresh meat rolls, biscuits and fruit.

‘We need to take something for our mark, to make sure we come back at the right time,’ T’san reminded her.

‘I think that one will do nicely.’ She pointed at a brightly coloured rug tucked partly beneath her desk. It kept her feet nicely warm, but the colours were a bit too vivid for her taste. They’d show up well on the heights above Fort, even in darkness. ‘Shall we take a glow basket, too?’

‘It might come in useful.’

As she fastened the various bags and packages to Gemalth’s straps she felt the same nervous anticipation as she used to get before Fall.

Gemalth picked up on it. Where are we going?

Fort first, then ahead. As we did last night, just a little further.

Why are you nervous? Will there be Thread where we are going?

I hope not. Although Gemalth had made a good point. If - no, when - they made the final leap, they’d be very close to the beginning of the Pass, and as Cassaru had reminded her, not all Intervals lasted exactly two hundred Turns. Thread might well begin to fall one or two Turns before the full time was up. She’d better warn T’san, in case he’d not thought of it. Another good reason for two of them to go; less chance of missing something important. ‘We need to think about what to do if we come out into Fall after our last jump.’

T’san turned from fastening a strap. ‘Unlikely, as all our travelling will be by night. But as well to be prepared. If it happens, then we both return to our previous stop. Whatever you do, don’t use your “get home fast” image. You might end up coming back here all in one go and who knows how long that would take?'

Zalna shivered at the thought of being between for so long. During the last Pass, there’d been a few times she’d had to fly with a heavy cold and had almost run out of breath between when Gemalth had taken them there unexpectedly to dodge Thread. ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

It was still dusk at Fort Weyr when they arrived. The sky was clear, fading to a pale blue on the western horizon. The first bright stars twinkled. They stopped in their usual spot, close to the Star Stones and dismounted while waiting for full darkness. Zalna removed the tablets from her bag and with the aid of the glows, they made sure to memorise the star positions for the first stage of the journey.

‘If we’re really lucky, we might find some traces of the Fort weyrfolk stopping.’

‘Or we might bump into them on the off chance we both turn up on the same night, twenty-five Turns from now? What should we do if that happens?’

‘We could just be on a routine patrol from Benden.’

‘Yes, but there’ll be folk there who knew me. I’m the wrong age for that Turn.’

‘True.’ He fiddled with the end of a strap. ‘Best not stay, then. Come back to the here and now. Same applies if we meet folk on any stop. Go back to the previous one.’

‘Timing it is so involved.’ Zalna leaned close to her dragon’s warmth as the crisp chill of a winter night wrapped itself around her.

‘That’s why it’s not done often.’ His expression turned to amusement.

‘What is it?’

‘We’re about to embark on something epic, yet we won’t be able to tell anyone. I mean, I told W’sir we were going exploring, but not where. And he’s not the sort to ask questions.’

‘I told Morna. I’d trust her to keep a secret.’

‘I agree. But no one’s ever going to write a ballad called “Zalna and T’san’s ride.”’

‘I hope not. Moreta was only celebrated so widely because she perished. If she’d got back safely, it would still have been a memorable feat, but not quite as ballad worthy.’

‘I’ll take your word for that.’ He looked up at the sky. ‘Think it’s dark enough? I can pick out all the stars we need, including our old enemy.’

Zalna followed his gaze. The stars made her feel insignificant. Whether she was alive or dead, they’d stay in the same positions, shining as they always had. ‘Yes. Let’s do it before I lose my nerve.’

‘Come here.’ T’san beckoned her over.

They embraced for a good while, before she finally pulled away. ‘Right. It’s time we got going.’

‘Then fly safely.’

The old Threadfall farewell. It felt apt, somehow. ‘You, too.’ Before mounting up, she left the mat on the heights, weighted down by a couple of stones. Its bright colour showed up well, even in semi-darkness. It seemed very small for something that would guide them home.

Back on their dragons, T’san gave the signal to ascend. Zalna sent the image to Gemalth, who relayed it to Huylonth. If they both used exactly the same coordinates, they should end up in exactly the same when. At least, she hoped so.

Blackness enfolded her; the cold absence of anything which was between. Because she was expecting it to take longer than the previous jumps, she didn’t worry as much as she might have done. Gemalth emerged just a brief moment before Huylonth. The air seemed warmer than when they left, which might just be through having come out of between, or due to a mild spell such as Fort Weyr often had in winter. Both dragons landed.

‘That wasn’t too bad.’ T’san pulled the tablets from a bag fastened to Huylonth’s straps. ‘I’ll look for the next one, shall I?

‘Wait a moment. I want to fly around, to see if there are any traces of people and dragons having been on these heights recently.’

‘Good thinking.’

It would be easier if there was snow on the ground. Maybe they should have flown from High Reaches? Even something the size of a dragon doesn’t leave any imprint on stone. Would Gemalth be able to sense if other dragons had been here recently? She asked the question.

Let us land again on the other side. The rim is wider there.

She set down softly and sniffed several times. It is faint, but I think someone was here before us. Many different dragons.

They returned to Huylonth, where she passed on Gemalth’s observations.

‘Well, that’s proof, of a kind. Unless a future Benden Wing came here for some reason.’

‘They’d have landed in the Bowl, surely?’

‘Not if they were sent to investigate a report of dragons on the heights.’

‘Which would prove it anyway.’ Zalna rubbed her fingers together. Even with her thickest gloves, the chill of between and the winter air was enough to make her hands cold. Feet, too. She didn’t remember feeling the cold like this when she’d been young, fighting Thread for several hours. ‘It’s a lot more overgrown than last time down by the lake, too.’

‘I know. Doesn’t seem right, somehow, letting a Weyr get full of greenery.’

‘Thread’s a long time ago, in this now. And we’re nowhere near close enough to the next Pass for anyone to care much.’

T’san replaced the tablet. ‘Ready for the next step?’

‘Let’s go.’

They followed the same pattern twice more before Zalna asked for a stop. She needed the warmth of klah in her belly and a fire to thaw her extremities. Here, at a hundred Turn’s distance, the Red Star was a faint dot, less bright than many of the other familiar stars in the sky.

It was strange to consider both she and Gemalth would be dead in this time. Even Talanza would be an old, old woman.

We are not dead. We are here. Gemalth picked up on her thoughts.

We are here, right now. But if we hadn’t skipped through time, we’d be… She calculated in her head. I would be one hundred and twenty-four. Very few people live to be that age. Some riders reached the hundred Turn mark and eighty or ninety wasn’t uncommon, especially in an Interval, but she didn’t really expect to break any longevity records.

The dragons formed a windbreak as they drank their klah. ‘Only another hundred Turns to go,’ T’san said. ‘We’ll stop again after three jumps, then make the final one fully prepared, just in case we come out into something unexpected.’

Down below, the empty Weyr lay silent. The foliage around the lake had receded again; either some Benden dragons had been practising flaming here, or summer’s heat had brought a natural fire to sear the grasses and shrubs.

‘Are you all right?’ T’san’s voice brought her from her reverie.

‘Yes. Just thinking about all the Turns behind us.’

‘And still we’re only half way there.’

‘We’ve been away a while.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ He threw a stick onto the fire. ‘We’ll be back shortly after we left.’

‘My body will still know it’s lived through all of those hours.’

‘Do you want to go back?’

‘No!’ Not after coming this far. ‘We have to find out for certain. We can sleep tomorrow.’ Except tomorrow was a long yesterday ago and half the world away. Zalna’s head began to spin, so she stopped that line of thought. ‘Let’s press on.’

She counted off the Turns. One hundred and twenty-five since the Pass ended and all five Weyrs disappeared. Then one hundred and fifty. They didn’t stay long at that time. There were fires down in the Bowl and small woolly herdbeasts grazing. Someone was finding a use for the old Weyr and they didn’t want to risk being seen. Finally, they reached the last stop before the end, with the Red Star coming closer. It was a similar size as it had been in their own now, but in a different part of the sky.

‘I’d like to see it framed in the Eye Rock,’ T’san said. ‘The herald of the next Pass.’

‘We’d never be able to time it so close. And it’s at dawn, too, so the stars would all be different.’ Zalna wouldn’t mind seeing that either, but it was too risky. The weyrfolk might return around that time of the Turn, to give themselves time to ready their Weyr before having to fight again.

‘I know.’ He sighed. ‘Right. Last one. If there are dragons about, we’ll come straight back to this time.’

‘All right.’ She readied herself and Gemalth as Huylonth sent the coordinates. On his signal, they went between.

She was braced for a startled watch dragon bugling, as two unknown dragons arrived unannounced in the middle of the night. But when they emerged, it was to a darkened Weyr with no more signs of life than any other time. Less if you included the one when there had been intruders below. In the sky, the Red Star, larger than she had ever seen it, hung balefully. ‘Why isn’t anyone here?’ she shouted across to T’san.

‘Don’t know. Maybe we miscalculated? It might be a Turn or so early.’

That was true. Even on their other jumps, there was no way of knowing if they’d gone precisely twenty-five Turns. ‘So what shall we do?’Jumping just a Turn ahead would be difficult, as the Red Star wouldn’t move by a noticeable amount.

‘If we go ten Turns, then the Pass should definitely have begun. And we’ve done that distance before, so it’s not impossible.’

They got off and consulted the tablets to work out the position of the Red Star ten Turns hence. Zalna felt even more uncertain. It was taking them that bit further from home. ‘One more, then.’ She climbed back on board Gemalth. Each time she’d done so, the effort had been slightly more difficult.

Even Gemalth noticed. You are tired, she stated.

Yes, very. You couldn’t hide that from a dragon. A line from ‘Moreta’s Ride’ came into her head unbidden; “she was tired and alone, just one more leap home.” Not the best time to be reminded of the unhappy consequences. She made sure to give Gemalth a clear, precise visualisation as they went between for the eighth or maybe ninth time. She’d lost count.

Below them, Fort Weyr was obviously empty. Zalna caught T’san’s glance across to her even before Gemalth relayed his message through Huylonth. This is all wrong. They should be here.

They should be, but weren’t. Once again, the dragons landed.

‘It can’t be…’ T’san was obviously confused. ‘Have we gone wrong?’

Zalna stared up at the cold sky. ‘No. The Red Star’s exactly where it should be.’ Or was it? Maybe it was just a little smaller, even if it was otherwise in the right position. She couldn’t think straight any more and reckoned T’san must be feeling the same.

‘We’ve got to find out if Pern’s going to survive this. We have to know.’

‘We have to stop,’ she said firmly. ‘Neither of us are in any fit state to think what we should or shouldn’t do right now. Let’s have a rest and a drink.’

Huylonth soon had a fire going. Zalna let the automatic actions of brewing klah take over, not wanting to think about the implications right now. It was only when they both sat down, hands clasped around the mugs, that she let her worries come to the fore. ‘If they aren’t here, then why not?’

‘My thoughts exactly. Maybe they just didn’t make it. And if that’s the case…’ he shook his head slowly. ‘Well, it’s not going to be good, is it?’

They could sit here debating for hours. Worrying, too. ‘I think we need to ask someone if we want to know for sure.’

‘But who? Everyone we know - knew - are long since dead.’

‘We should go to one of the occupied Weyrs. Maybe just talk to the watch rider? Then, before he has the chance to ask too many questions about who we are, come back here again.’

‘I’m not sure.’ He took a drink. ‘Wouldn’t our appearance be noted in some records? Couldn’t that change the future in some way?’

‘Not based on what Creline said. If it’s happened, we can’t change it. In fact, if it’s already happened, we have no option but to do it.’ She wasn’t entirely sure she’d got that right, but her brain was too scrambled to think clearly.

‘You’re probably right. So, where should we go? Benden?’

‘It’ll almost be dawn there, from the time difference. People and dragons will be waking.’

‘Ista, then. That’s well enough behind for it still to be full night. We’re both familiar with Ista, so we can easily give coordinates.’

Zalna couldn’t help but recall her own words, just the day before. What if Ista no longer looked the same? They could be lost between. But they also needed to know how the underpopulated Weyrs were coping during a Pass. It was a conundrum. ‘It’s a risk.’

‘We have to do something.’ He flung the dregs into the fire, which hissed and spluttered. ‘We can’t just sit here.’

‘That’s it!’ What he had just said made perfect sense. ‘We sit here, wait until dawn, then go and look for Thread damage. If Pern’s only partially protected, we’re going to see some fairly quickly. Then we can drop down at a minor Hold and talk to some field workers. They’re unlikely to be able to recognise all of the gold and bronze dragons on Pern, are they?’

T’san thought for a moment. ‘That doesn’t sound like a bad plan. We keep away from the Weyrs, but get the information we need.’

‘And we get a proper rest. I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.’

With the aid of a couple of blankets and the dragons for warmth, they huddled together, occasionally feeding the fire. Zalna didn’t sleep soundly, as she would have done in her comfortable bed, but she dozed sufficiently that when the sky began, eventually, to lighten in the east, she felt far less tired.

They had more klah and a couple of cold meat rolls for breakfast, before packing up and making ready to fly again. ‘Fort Hold’s the nearest, so we’ll fly straight there,’ she said. ‘Then as we know exactly how the Weyr looks in this day and age, we can go between on the way back.’

The flight down the valley passed over a few outlying farm Holds. Smoke rose from chimneys. Herdbeasts grazed in the fields. All looked peaceful and undisturbed.

Zalna asked Gemalth to keep them well away from the main Hold and the Harper Hall. She didn’t want to risk being spotted, so they flew over the mountains to get to Fort Hold’s main farming region. On the way, she steeled herself to see burned fields and other depredations from burrowing Thread. But the rising sun illuminated an equally peaceful and unspoiled land as they’d already passed over. Just to be sure, she kept an eastward course until they were out at sea. The two dragons circled. Tell Huylonth this is not what I expected to see, she said to Gemalth.

In a few moments she had an answer back. He is also surprised.

We need to find somewhere to land.

T’san gave her a signal back to show he understood and the two dragons turned landward again. Zalna couldn’t help but notice how much more of the area had come under cultivation since she’d last overflown it. Two hundred Turns without Thread had made Pern a very different place. Now, she asked Gemalth to fly lower. Not low enough to panic any beasts, but to make it easier to spot people on the ground. At this time of the Turn, ploughing usually took place, making the soil ready for sowing crops to mature in the early summer. They’d not flown too far inland before she spotted a group of workers. Over there, she told Gemalth. Not too close. We don’t want to frighten the runner beasts.

Huylonth and Gemalth settled at the edge of the field, a mix of dried up stalks remaining from the previous season’s harvest and some freshly turned, dark furrows. The men had obviously spotted the dragons, as they put down their tools and began to walk over.

‘Greetings, dragonriders,’ the older man said, when they were close enough to be heard. ‘To what do we owe this visit?’

Zalna had decided what she was going to say. ‘We’re overflying this area before the next Fall to see how many Wings will be needed.’ Normally, it wouldn’t be a job for a gold dragon, but she hoped they wouldn’t know that.

He looked puzzled. ‘Fall?’

‘Thread,’ she added, although why he should need the extra information, she’d no idea. Surely, even two hundred Turns on, terminology for Pern’s deadly rain wouldn’t have changed.

The other man looked up at the sky. ‘We ain’t never seen no Thread.’

Zalna glanced over at T’san, unsure where to go next.

He took up the questioning. ‘Surely the Pass has begun?’

‘Oh, that?’ The older one spoke again. ‘Was a big fuss, oh, ten, maybe eleven Turns back. All of you dragonriders getting us to cut back greenery and training folk to use flamethrowers. But it were all for nothing. Thread’s left us alone.’

‘Oh, aye,’ his mate put in. ‘I remember all that. Didn’t happen, did it? How come you two don’t know?’

The other hit the back of his head. ‘Bit of respect when you’re talking to dragonriders.’

‘Sorry. None meant to either of you. Just surprised, that’s all.’

‘We’ve, er, been away for a while.’ Zalna hoped she sounded convincing. ‘Anyway, thank you for your help.’

‘Not at all.’

They waited until the men were far enough away before taking off again. Zalna had Gemalth relay the coordinates for Fort Weyr, then gave the signal herself for them to go between.

In daylight, the unkempt state of the place was all too obvious. The Bowl was full of grass, the lake heavily silted around the edges where tall rushes had taken root. Where the herdbeast pens had once been, winter-dry weeds and bare stemmed bushes grew. Gemalth landed near to where they’d camped the previous night.

‘No Thread.’ T’san jumped down, stretching. ‘It’s hard to believe.’

Zalna’s own muscles were protesting, too. She’d not flown so far for a while. ‘I don’t think those men were lying.’

‘Stupid, then?’

‘The younger one, maybe. The other struck me as reliable.’

‘I can’t believe it.,’ he reiterated. ‘Thread always returns around two hundred Turns after the last Pass ends. What about the Red Star? Last night it was as close as I’ve ever seen.’

Zalna reached for a memory. ‘Wait a minute. Didn’t Cassaru say something, when we talked to her in the archives? About there having been extra long Intervals in the past?’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘She did. So maybe that’s what’s happened. And that’s the reason the Weyr’s still empty, because they aren’t needed yet.’

‘That’s a lot to suppose on the testimony of two farm workers.’ T’san still sounded sceptical.

‘All right, then. Let’s fly north and find some more folk.’ Maybe then he’d be convinced?

They took off again. Directly north of Fort Weyr was a mountain range, with Ruatha River Hold on the other side, close to the estuary. Zalna had always gone between to and from the place in the past and hadn’t appreciated how long the journey would take, flying straight. Her fitful sleep and the strain from all the between timing were making themselves felt. Once again, she imagined Moreta, riding Holth rather than her own Orlith, making all of those stops. Among dragonriders, her ride was often used as a cautionary tale to ensure weyrlings learned the necessity of strong coordinates and not to overtax themselves or their dragons. Moreta hadn’t had that luxury, although Zalna had often wondered why she couldn’t just have rested a while with the work done, then taken the final jump between refreshed. But now she was in a similar position, longing to get home, she appreciated the long-ago Weyrwoman’s need to hurry back.

The mountains went on forever, but at last they gave way to foothills with rough grazing. Ahead, the estuary shone like a beacon and the flat fields on either side looked as well-tended as any she’d seen in Fort Hold. Doesn’t look as if any Thread has fallen here, either, she said to Gemalth, who passed it on.

Agreed, came back Huylonth’s reply.

It didn’t take too long before they spotted a group of people out on the sands, gathering shellfish into large baskets. Once again the dragons landed and once again they heard almost the same answer; that Thread had been expected and preparations made, but nothing happened. One of the younger women said, ‘I’ve heard Thread’s gone for good. My da says it won’t come back, ever.’

‘That wouldn’t be a bad thing,’ Zalna replied. How many more might start thinking the same, as the Turns went by? ‘But no one can be certain of it.’

‘That’s why all them Weyrs are empty,’ said another. ‘Obvious, isn’t it?’

There were nods from many of the workers. Several went back to digging in the sands, having lost interest in the dragons already. There was no point asking any more questions.

They returned to Fort Weyr. T’san seemed subdued. ‘It’s hard to believe, but I have to say it looks as if there’s no Thread falling.’

‘No.’

‘Maybe we should travel further ahead, just to check?’

‘We can’t. Look at us both. We’re exhausted. I need to sleep properly in my own bed. But we’ve got just as many jumps on the return journey as we made to get here. If we travelled another two hundred Turns into the future, I doubt we’d make it back.’

‘But we’ll never know what happens. Whether the five Weyrs reappear or not.’

‘I know.’ Zalna felt sorry for him. T’san liked to find conclusive answers to a problem. This time, he couldn’t. ‘But we have Benden Weyr to consider. We can’t endanger ourselves and our dragons when we’re needed back in our own time.’

He sighed. ‘You’re right.’

‘Then we’ll have another rest right here before we start on the return.’

There was only enough klah bark left for one more kettle full. Zalna fished out a couple of pieces of fruit from the bag and two broken biscuits. It seemed forever since she’d last had a proper meal. She’d lost count of hours, days, Turns. Although Fort Weyr was a familiar place, this far off Pern didn’t feel much like home at all. When - if - the other Weyrs finally arrived at their destination, they’d surely feel the same sense of dislocation.

T’san got up first. ‘I suppose we’d better go.’ He stretched, yawning. ‘I feel like I’ve just ridden a five hour Fall.’

‘Me, too.’ Thankfully, Gemalth seemed less badly affected. All she had to do now was to keep her wits about her for long enough - all of those ten, or however many steps back - to get home safely.

T’san held out the tablets and they both checked their first step. They agreed they’d miss out the two hundred stop and go straight back to the hundred and seventy-five Turn point. ‘Thirty five Turns isn’t going to take much longer than twenty-five,’ T’san said. ‘And it’s one less we have to plan out.’

Zalna nodded, fastening her own bags to Gemalth’s straps. ‘I’d rather not stop on the way, either. At least, not for any longer than it takes to check our coordinates.’ She’d been cold on the way here, but now the ever-present chill had sunk so deep into her bones a fire wouldn’t help much. A warm bed was what she needed, with her weyrmate snuggled next to her.

‘Let’s do it, then.’ Normally T’san vaulted lightly onto Huylonth, but he looked like a man climbing a steep hill as he made his way to the neck ridges.

Zalna struggled up, despite Gemalth’s help, but finally she reached her familiar spot. She took care to fasten her straps securely and glanced over to make sure T’san did the same. In this state, a mistake could be fatal, but oh so easy to make. She held the picture steady in her mind as they ascended, then when T’san signalled for them to go between, kept it there firmly as Gemalth navigated her way.

Thirty-five Turns seemed to take a lot longer than twenty-five. Or was it because they were going backwards now, against the flow of time? She remembered how her trip back from just ten Turns had felt an eternity compared with the step forward. She needed to mention that to T’san, to see if he experienced it the same way. But not now. When they got back to Benden.

At last they burst out of total blackness into the night. The bulk of Huylonth, to her right, blotted out the stars, reassuringly solid. They landed for just long enough to check the coordinates for the next step, then were off again.

One hundred and fifty Turns into the Interval. This was where they’d seen the fires and herdbeasts previously. Tiny figures moved down in the Bowl. As they consulted the tablet, Zalna was certain she heard a shout. She turned in that direction and saw someone pointing up at the dragons. There was no real danger, of course. It would take the men far longer to climb up all those steps than it would for them to take off again, but it unsettled her.

‘Spotted,’ T’san said grimly. ‘Not that it matters. Benden Weyr’s a long way off and I doubt they’ll ever get to hear of it.’

A long way off indeed. Zalna wanted to get back there, far from deserted Fort, where memories lurked in the darkness of the Bowl. They made the next jump back, with four still to go. Now she was colder than ever before. Once they’d checked the coordinates, she wrapped the free end of the straps around her wrists, mostly for extra reassurance. The straps connected to her riding belt would prevent her from falling off, although she could still slip around Gemalth’s neck. She hadn’t been able to feel her feet for a while and her legs were weak. Better to be safe than sorry.

‘Are you all right?’ T’san called over.

‘Fine,’ she lied. No point in him worrying about her. ‘I just want to get this over with.’

He nodded back. ‘Me too. Ready?’

‘Ready,’ she confirmed.

Sheer willpower held her steady for the next few jumps. Gemalth reassured her. I will look after you. It felt as if her dragon was providing her with much needed strength.

Finally, there was just one more step left to return to their own time.

‘Remember, we need to focus on that mat, rather than the stars. Then we’ll be back where we started.’ T’san sounded relieved. ‘And after that, it’s just the short hop to Benden for klah and bed.’

Zalna smiled. Shells, but she was weary. Her limbs felt cold and stiff. She was hungry and thirsty. Tiredness overwhelmed her, as if she’d not slept at all. She’d looked at that mat almost every day for many a Turn, but now, when it came to it, she couldn’t remember if there were more orange stripes than blue ones. So simple, yet both their lives depended on it. ‘Can you remember what it looked like? she asked.

‘What? The mat? It’s blue and orange.’

‘But is there more orange than blue?’ It was hopeless. T’san sent her a picture via the dragons. It looked right. But she wasn’t certain.

‘There,’ he said. ‘Shall we go?’

‘I don’t know if I can.’ Moreta, on the last lap of her own journey, must have felt like this. Bone-tired and confused.

‘We have to. You can’t stay here. Come on, Zalna. Trust me on this one.’

She had no choice. He was right.

‘Just keep it in your mind. We can do this!’

Huylonth slipped sideways from the heights, then gained height slowly. Gemalth followed. Both dragons were tired, too. They’d done a lot of flying today. Or two hundred-odd Turns ahead. Sometime, anyway. Gemalth showed her the image again. The Star Stones. The mat. It didn’t look quite right, but she had to trust it. T’san gave the signal and Huylonth vanished between.

We must follow, Gemalth said.

I don’t know. Alone again, uncertainty caught hold of her. The picture wavered.

We must follow. Gemalth sounded insistent. I still sense Huylonth. But he is going away.

Going away? What did she mean? She couldn’t lose T’san. For a moment her eyes flicked toward K’torl’s weyr, an empty, dark spot in the wall of the Bowl. He had gone between and never returned, in the midst of Fall. Would the same happen again? To Huylonth? To Gemalth?

‘Go!’ she sobbed, concentrating on the image Huylonth had sent before he disappeared. Winter chill was replaced by icy blackness. It went on and on.

Stay strong. Gemalth’s voice held her together. We are almost there.

Suddenly, there were stars again; the canopy of the night sky overhead. Huylonth circling just below her. They’d made it! Down below, on the heights, the mat lay. Its gaudy design had brought her home. When they returned to Benden, she wouldn’t hide it under the desk any more.

Huylonth swooped down and picked it up in his talons. Zalna guessed T’san was too tired to get off. Ah well, a few holes would add to the character.

He signalled once more, and both dragons went between for the last time that long night. Zalna had never been so grateful to see the familiar shape of Benden Weyr; the paths across the Bowl lit with glows and and the knowledge it was full of people and dragons rather than overgrown and empty. Home, at last.