Dragons' Destiny

"That's nonsense, D. You've been a great help here. You've lived a tremendously good life. Who knows how many lives you, Astaroth and Tyranth have saved. I don't think you have anything to worry about." G'dened stopped, thinking about what the Cygnan had told him. It didn't make a lot of sense. Still, he hoped it was true. He wanted to Cosira again, and he didn't care how. "She said they're waiting for us?"

The avion nodded. "Yes. They still love us. I don't understand. You, yes. But me, no. I'm not worthy of her."

His companion reached out, taking him by the shoulder. "No," G'dened disagreed. "Even when she was your Weyrwoman and my weyrmate, you treated us both with respect. Your love for her was obvious. She knew it and I knew it. That was why it never hurt us. You and Elysina were close to us, our dearest friends. The next time you talk to her, please tell her I still love her. I would love to see her again, now or later."

- - - - -

In the conference room, Darielyn and his mate locked eyes. The male shrugged. Mareka squeezed a tear from the corner of her eye.

Remara stood up. "I think we should lighten the mood a bit. If it's alright with you, Breda, I'll take them to meet with Pireth."

"That's a good idea. Mind if we come with you?"

The stocky brunette chuckled. "Of course not. The more the merrier. Pireth will love it. Let's go."

The assembly walked through the tunnels to the junior queens' weyrs and thence to Pireth's ledge. The big gold was pleased with the company, particularly with the admiring regard of the two young avions.

"Can I touch her?" Mareka asked uncertainly.

"Of course," Remara chuckled. "She loves attention. Just listen to her."

At that, they admitted that they could hear the queen rumbling her satisfaction. Mareka proceeded to stroke the powerful foreleg while Darielyn gave her an affectionate stroke under the muzzle.

"Pireth, we're going to be flying the point for a while. Darielyn and Mareka will be our pivots."

The queen looked at her rider, releasing a proud thrum. Then she bumped the two avions with her nose.

"She's happy," Remara chuckled. "Pireth, you want to have some fun?" The queen looked at her and offered her foreleg. The rider stepped onto the leg then jumped to the golden neck, gathering the fighting straps. "Alright, you two," she called down, "let's see you keep up with her. Head for the sea, Pireth! Straight flight! Full speed ahead!"

An hour later, Remara stood in the weyrbowl, hands on hips. Pireth sat in front of her, not quite sure why her rider seemed irritated. Nor did she understand why the other queenriders were laughing.

"That was hilarious," Breda grinned.

"That was humiliating," Remara rejoined grumpily.

"Oh, don't be that way," Elysina chuckled, "you wanted to see if they could stay with Pireth. Convinced now?"

The woman shook her head. She had challenged the two avions to keep up with her queen, racing out of the Weyr before the avions could react. Nonetheless, the winged humanoids had caught the queen and then taken things to the next level. When Pireth returned to the Weyr, the mated avions were flying figure eights around her in opposing directions. She was slightly dizzy when she landed.

"Yeah, I'm convinced. Show-offs."

Darielyn was laughing as well. "We warned you. Are you satisfied we can fly in your wing?"

The queenrider's eyes narrowed and her features darkened. The speed of the young avions was impressive, but it raised another question. They were obviously capable of maneuvering even at such velocity, but would they remain stable if forced to slow to Pireth's normal fighting speed? "Can you slow down enough to be stable in formation?" she queried.

"Yes, ma'am," Mareka answered. "We were kind of showing off. That much speed isn't good for a lot of practical things. And we weren't carrying agenothree sprayers. Besides, we've got to give Pireth credit. We may have been faster than her, but I'm beat. Don't know about him."

Remara smiled, nodding to the young female. "Well, thank you. We both appreciate that. For a moment, we were feeling kind of embarrassed."

"Why?" Darielyn queried. "She's faster than lightning. That wasn't easy."

"And Astaroth is faster than you?"

"A lot faster," the male smiled. "Watch this." He turned his head to look up at the weyr rim where the black dragon sat watching. "Hey, Astaroth! Try to catch me, slow poke!" He leapt into the air and streaked for the far end of the weyr, almost a half-mile distant.

The ebony beast roared in response to the challenge and launched into the air. Despite his smaller opponent's head start, he caught the avion well before they reached the far crater rim. Turning high above the edge, they dove back into the Weyr, racing toward their starting point.

The queenriders watched in awe as the dragon started to fly barrel rolls around his diminutive rival. For the last hundred yards he straightened out and streaked to a landing beside the fascinated queen.

Darielyn backwinged, settling softly next to the big back. He thumped the dragon's foreleg, getting an amused snort from the beast, then he walked back to the watching women. Even as he stepped away, Pireth extended her neck, fondly nuzzling the side of the black's head.

"Yeah," the male confirmed, gasping for breath, "he's faster than me. And you thought we were showing off."

Remara shook her head, staring at the Cygnan beast with new and increased respect. Astaroth had flown the slot behind the queens many times, and now she understood how he could cover them so well and why their casualty rate always dropped when he was back there. "Is it true that Ruth is almost as fast as Astaroth?"

"No," Breda replied. "Ruth is faster than any of our dragons, but he can't stay with Astaroth, short of using between. Still, he'll be a great slot dragon for you. You're going to have a good wing."

The tired and perspiring queenrider turned thoughtful, looking from her beast to the black to the two avions. Speed was certainly not going to be an issue, but formation flying was still a serious concern. She was looking forward to seeing how well they could respond to that problem. "Okay," she allowed, releasing a quiet yawn, "that's good enough for me. Let's call it a day and get ready for tomorrow."

- - - - - - - - - -

The next day was long, tiring, and frustrating. The training in formation flying had started that morning. The entire wing was present, as was the Support Wing. Five dragons were watching.

At the end of the day, the five supervisors sat together, discussing the day's events. Their meeting had been delayed several hours while the three healers worked on Mareka's wing. She was doing well until she started to slide to the right, losing her position and unhinging the wing. The Support wing charged in. Suddenly, Mareka screamed and her right wing collapsed.

Tyranth knew immediately what needed to be done. As the avion plummeted toward the ground, the big bronze slid underneath her. D'rian caught the girl. Tyranth went between immediately, followed by Scylenth, Valkryth, Pireth and Barnath. The remainder of the training wing followed.

At the infirmary, Mareka was laid on the examining table. Her wing was wrapped around her to the front of her body. Very slowly, D'rian pulled the wing back to her side.

Elysina drew a bottle of cycloprine from the storage cabinet. She took a small syringe from the container in which it lay and filled it with the powerful muscle relaxant. Selana filled a second syringe with a small amount of fellis.

The women brought the hypodermics to the table, offering them to the masterhealer. He nodded, indicating that they should give the injections. They conformed promptly.

"That wasn't smart, Riki," D'rian frowned. "You had warning. I saw you flinch a couple of times. You should have withdrawn immediately."

The girl shook her head. "That would have left the wing without a right pivot, dad. I couldn't do that."

The Cygnan sighed. "Think this through, daughter. Had you withdrawn, either Ruth or one of the support dragons would have moved forward. The wing would have remained intact. As it was, when the cramp locked in, you left the pivot open anyhow. If that had been a real threadfall, you might have tumbled directly into a clump of thread. You wouldn't have had a chance."

Mareka grimaced. "I'm sorry. I was trying to do my job."

"That's a good attitude, Riki," Breda agreed, "but sometimes you have to know when to let somebody else do your job. The most important thing to learn in fighting thread is your own limitations. You can't overextend yourself. If you were to have a problem like you had today, you could injure a lot more people than yourself."

"Okay. I'll remember that." She started to grow weary, her eyes dilated. The fellis was taking effect quickly.

As the girl drifted off to sleep, her father folded her wing across her chest. He looked at the syringes, then back to the young woman. "I think," he revealed, "that we'll need to give her a small dose of cycloprine before each fall. That will keep the cramps from setting in. If this happens with any frequency, we'll have to replace her."

Selana shook her head. She knew what was going to happen if they tried to replace her. It wouldn't be pretty. "She won't like that. She can be terribly stubborn at times. If you try to remove her from the Queens Wing, you're going to have trouble."

"Yes," D'rian chuckled, "she's very stubborn. Reminds me of her mother."

"Oh, yes," the queenrider grinned. "We wouldn't know anyone else like that, would we, daddy?"

The other goldriders chuckled. They all knew first-hand just how difficult the masterhealer could be if things didn't go as he wanted. Mareka was a mirror image of her father.

"Okay," he admitted, "you win. She'll sleep now, probably for several hours. Let's give her some quiet."

D'rian and Selana walked to the infirmary ledge where their dragons waited. Once astride the magnificent necks, the pair flew north and west, seeking out the cove they both loved so much. Upon their arrival, they slid to the sand. It was soft and warm, with a cool breeze coming in from the ocean.

They sat down side-by-side, gazing at the waves rolling toward them. The water was warm, so they weren't annoyed when it reached their feet. The Cygnan eased his arm around his wife and she snuggled into the embrace.

"So," she whispered, "our daughter is going to become a thread-fighter."

"It would seem so," D'rian replied. "Our son is already a wingleader. Thread fighting seems to run in the family."

Selana looked down with a resigned sigh. "I hope our grandchildren won't have to be Threadfighters, too. If we can just get through this pass... "

The avion kissed her temple. "We'll make it. So will they. Only four turns left. We'll be alright, love."

They sat quietly until the sun began to dip. Selana burrowed deeper into her mate's arm. To her amusement, she felt him settle backward into the sand. Her head turned and she watched him loosen his tunic, his eyes drooping shut. She sighed in disappointment.

"Something wrong, love?" he asked.

She looked down with a quiet grin. "I thought you were falling asleep."

"Not just yet," the avion smiled. He reached for the woman's arm, pulling her to the sand beside him. He heard her start to chuckle as his fingers released the first stay on her tunic.

"So, am I number one or little one to you?" she asked impishly.

The avion's fingers slid across her cheek to the point of her chin. They continued down her throat to her collar bone and then across her breast. "You're both, love," he assured her. "You always will be."

"Are you sure?" she insisted.

D'rian's fingers came to her lips. "Oh, shut up," he chuckled, lowering his lips to hers. They both heard their dragons start to thrum.

- - - - - - - - - -

The queenriders had gathered again, this time in the infirmary. They were watching as one of their newest wing members was being treated by the masterhealer and his journeymen wives. The numbweed paste left a pale streak across her cheek, the corner of her eye and her forehead. She wore a humbled, apologetic expression.

"That wasn't your fault, Riki," Remara assured her. "You were doing your job. The wind was really whipping out there. We took a lot of scorings today."

Elysina nodded. "If she's alright, masterhealer, I'm going to head into the bowl and help Rubia. She's kind of busy."

"Go ahead," D'rian agreed. "You, too, Sel. She's fine. Rubia will appreciate the help."

The two female healers headed for the steps and the weyrbowl. As they left, the Wingleader and Weyrwoman stepped up next to the injured girl. She looked up at them uncertainly.

"What did I do wrong?" she asked.

Remara's eyes widened for a moment. She canted her head to the left. "Nothing that I know of. Not a lot you can do under those conditions. You held your position well. Merlith didn't have any trouble getting to you. They got you back here fast."

Nodding, the avion still seemed uncomfortable. "I left my position open," she mumbled.

"No, you didn't," the wingleader replied. "Ruth slid into the pivot and Xanth pulled his wing in tight to the slot. No problem at all."

Breda placed her hand on the girl's shoulder. "You're going to be a great Thread fighter," she smiled. "You're more concerned about the wing than your own injury. Relax. You were the only injury in the wing this fall. You did great."

The smiles in the infirmary faded as the riders felt a strange vibration creeping through their feet and up their legs. D'rian turned to the preparation table to see the liquid in the fellis bottle sloshing. "Do you feel that?" he asked.

Breda nodded. She locked eyes with the Cygnan. "Earthshake?"

"I think so," he replied. "Not very strong, but still... "

In the weyrbowl, the three journeymen healers and several injured riders were looking about the Weyr, wondering what was happening. Their dragons were spreading wings to cover their riders. Cavern and kitchen workers were appearing at the entrance to the lower cavern, some showing signs of serious alarm.

The vibrations ceased in less than a minute. By that time, the Weyrleader and his wingleaders were gathered in the center of the bowl, their dragons watching attentively. "Okay," Tr'san directed. "Mount up and fly a tight inspection of the inner and outer slopes. If that looks alright, head out to check on the cot holds. Take your wingseconds or your entire wing if you think you need them."

It took roughly an hour until his wingleaders were able to determine that there was no damage to the Weyr. He watched the riders mount their dragons, calling for their wings to assemble once more. Then they headed for the cot holds.

He climbed to Kirth's neck, indicating he should summon the entire wing. "We're going to check on Ista Hold, Kirth. Get the wing assembled and take us there."

The bronze climbed above the Weyr rim, watching as his wingmates assembled around him. When they were all in position, he gave the order to go between to the Hold.

Holders were scrambling about in the main courtyard and apparently forming to hear their Lord Holder speak. They turned stunned eyes upward and then raced for the fringes of the courtyard, allowing an entire wing of dragons to land. For many, it was the first time they had ever seen dragons close up. The children in particular were fascinated and delighted. Many were unhappy when their parents held them back from the beasts.

Tr'san dismounted and walked toward the front of the yard. A tall figure strode towards him, extending a welcoming hand.

"Thank you for coming, Weyrleader," he smiled. "We need your help."

"We came to check, Lord Seiten. Is something wrong?"

The young Lord Holder nodded. He was in his early twenties, tall and powerful of build. At one time, he had been a recurrent problem. However, with his father's death and his appointment as Lord Holder, he had suddenly and unexpectedly become an alert, responsible and dedicated Lord Holder.

"Yes, we have a serious problem. One of our families was out picnicking in the foothills when the earthshake hit. They have a three-year-old that they can't find."

Tr'san nodded. That wasn't good news. He thought briefly of the child he would have in seven or eight months. He couldn't imagine the fear the missing toddler's parents were experiencing. "Well, I've got twenty-eight riders with me. I can bring in almost three hundred more if you need them. Where do you want us?"

The Lord Holder smiled. "Not sure just yet. Come with me."

Realizing they were leaving the Hold, the Weyrleader suggested that they let Kirth take them. The Lord Holder climbed aboard the dragon as Tr'san directed. The bronze followed Seiten's directions. Two greens, designated as messengers, followed.

The dragons landed near a large jumble of rock, uprooted trees, dirt and other debris. It was obvious that a significant rockslide had taken place. A man and woman, likely the missing child's parents, were searching frantically for any indication of an opening. The weren't having any luck. The riders and Lord Holder dismounted and approached the distraught adults.

"Are you sure this is where she is?" Lord Seiten inquired.

The husband and father stood up, then bowed to his Lord. "Not really, Lord Seiten. It all looks the same. But this is where we thought she was playing."

The Weyrleader surveyed the area and the damage. The slide covered a lot more territory than 28 riders and however many holders were available could cover. He turned to his dragon. "Kirth, go back to Ista. Tell Astaroth that we need him and his entire team here. I also want four more wings. Don't care which ones. The others should all be ready to deploy here immediately. Got that?"

'On my way.'

Tr'san and Seiten walked the length of the slide area. When they finished, the bronze-rider turned. "What do you think? Looks like at least 150 yards to me."

"At least," Seiten agreed. "I don't like the way this slide looks. It seems soft, unstable. There may be air pockets under it."

"Let's hope so. She's got to be able to breathe."

"Yes, but its also possible that there could be additional cave-ins. There's enough weight here to kill."

The bronze-rider stared at the expanse of dirt and rock. They had to get the child out of there, fast. But where did they start. "Do you have a starting point for the search?"

Seiten shook his head. "Not really. I'm pretty much clueless with this. I guess I'd start where the parents were digging. They said that was where the girl was."

"What would you think about my bringing the Masterminer in on this?"

"Can't hurt," the young Lord agreed. "He might keep us from burying the poor kid alive."

The message was passed to Kirth and a bronze sent to Crom for the Masterminer.

Over the next hour, not four but eight more wings appeared, including Astaroth and the Cygnan team. With the people of the Hold helping, there were well over five-hundred people now searching for the child.

Masterminer Nicat arrived soon after Tr'san's request. He agreed with Lord Seiten about the condition of the ground in the area of the slide. It was going to be perilous work removing the rock.

"We'll have to do this slowly," he advised. "If we have any indication of instability or an additional slide, we'll need to move to a more stable area to keep digging."

The Weyrleader furrowed his brow. He looked to see the light fading as the sun dipped toward the horizon. They were going to need fires, probably a lot of them, to keep looking after nightfall. Even as he considered this additional problem, brown and blue dragons began rising into the air and flying inland, much to the surprise of their riders.