Date: Sun, 30 Oct 2005 19:40:05 -0800 (PST)
From: Corrinne S <quasito_cat@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Black Dragon of Pern Part 7

Pertinent information is listed at the beginning of
this series.  Comments welcome at
quasito_cat@yahoo.com or quasito_cat@hotmail.com

The Black Dragon of Pern

M.C. Gordon

Chapter 18

     L'noth suggested, and Healer Andren agreed, that
the best immediate solace for the weyrfolk to take
their minds from those already lost to the eruption
was to put them to work.  Important hides were already
tucked inside protective wherryhide cylinders and
transported by dragon back to M'chell's southern
caves.  Food, clothing, and the not to be forgotten
Benden white wine were loaded into baskets and
clutched tightly in the claws of dragons whose backs
were loaded to capacity with weyrfolk being evacuated.
 Sleeping children, who mysteriously kept appearing,
were tucked securely between adults on the dragons.

     M'chell was helping strap the last of the rescued
weyrfolk into place onto blue Dagenth when Raganth's
frantic call reached him.

     "He is lost," the mighty queen said.

 . . .

     Skye had gone between time so often over a period
of several hours that he lost `when' he was.
Something deep within his genetic coding told him that
it was dangerous to be in the same place at any point
in time.  It wasn't a conscious thought; it was pure
instinct.  And now, physically and mentally exhausted,
he couldn't remember which `when' he was in.  He felt
a strange loneliness such as he'd never known before.
`Perhaps this is how it will end,' he thought.   `I
have helped to save the hatchlings.  My lover's kind
are going to be safe, and they will welcome him back.
Now that he is with them again he no longer needs me.
The molten earth will find me and he will no longer
think of me.'

 . . .

     Unknown to anyone but L'noth and Adelmisa, a
select few bronze riders had been going between time
themselves, using the same reasoning as Skye, and
removing as many inhabitants of the lower caverns as
they could.  The riders puzzled L'noth when they
reported that they were unable to find most of the
children.  That thought was causing great worry to the
Weyrleaders until they realized that the children had
all been accounted for.

     When Raganth's great cry, "He is lost," was
broadcast to M'chell, the other weyr dragons heard and
told their riders.  The Weyrleader and Weyrwoman
looked at each other in confusion, for they had
accounted for everyone ... even the dead.  D'vis was the
first to react for he knew who was lost, and he rushed
to M'chell's side.  Trelanth explained to the other
dragons, who in turn bespoke their riders.  The
message made little sense to anyone since no one in
the weyr knew who Skye was and had certainly never
heard of a `flyer' before.  But the underlying fact of
the message was very clear.  Someone was still trapped
in the lower cavern, and the molten lava was rising.

     "He is almost `now', but does not know that,"
Raganth told M'chell.

     Just as M'chell was preparing to mount Raganth
and go in search of his lover, L'noth approached him.
"M'chell," the Weyrleader said, "do you have something
to tell us?"

     "Not now," the queen rider replied, urgency
utmost in his voice, "I have to find him."

     "We can do that for you," L'noth said.  "The
dragons know that someone is trapped in time in the
weyr.  It's too dangerous to send any of them between
time right now, so we need for you to concentrate very
hard and let Raganth find him for you.  All of the
dragons will concentrate with Raganth and show him
where to come.  I hope you plan to explain to me later
why something I don't know about is able to go between
undetected in my weyr."

     M'chell nodded his agreement to the Weyrleader
and concentrated as hard as he could on contacting his
beloved.

Chapter 19

     Skye sat with his legs bent upward and his head
between his knees.  His wings were folded over to
cover him for he did not want to see the molten earth
rise toward him.  He had resigned himself to death,
unhappy only that he could not let M'chell know how
much he loved him.  He had tried to reach out to his
lover's mind but the distance of between time was more
than he could overcome in his current exhausted state.

     He was surprised when he heard, in his mind, many
voices calling to him.  He thought it was just his
imagination until he was able to clearly recognize
Raganth, Trelanth, and Dageth, the only dragons he
knew.

     "We know `when' you are," the voices said.
"Listen to us and we will bring you `now'."

     The space was small and time was short, for the
lava crept ever higher.  But Skye listened to the
voices of his dragon friends and stepped to the edge
of a sleeping cubicle.  The stench of sulphur was
overwhelming, stinging his eyes and causing his breath
to be labored.  He flexed his wings, rose from the
floor of the cavern, and went between, trusting the
dragons.

 . . .

     There were few dragons remaining at the volcanic
weyr, those who looked to M'chell, D'vis, L'noth,
Adelmisa, and F'rness, when a tiny mote appeared high
in the sky above the heaving lava.  Skye, totally
unconscious, was plummeting earthward.  Green Dageth,
the swiftest, pushed upward with all his strength and
launched himself toward the spiraling figure.
Super-heated flying rocks and embers singed him, but
still he flew -- one object fixed firmly in his mind.
He listened as the other dragons encouraged him, and
F'rness promised him the sweetest wherries for his
next meal and a thorough scrubbing by every fire
lizard on Pern.  But Dageth didn't need any coaxing.
He knew what the flyer had done to help save the
weyrfolk.  And while the flyer wasn't a `real' dragon,
he had a dragon's heart.

     High above the fiery eruption, Dageth positioned
himself and caught Skye in his talons, careful not to
damage the frail body.

 . . .

     Freepoint Weyr was quiet, the inhabitants mindful
of the trauma to the injured currently housed there.
Young children walked quietly on their tip-toes and
whispered, lest they were told that they had to go to
bed.  Dragons and riders injured during Threadfall was
nothing new to them, but dragons and weyrfolk
suffering from the tremendous loss of their weyr was
an inconceivable thought.  And something different was
being treated by the weyr healers.  Curiosity
overwhelmed them and more than one child had crept
past one of the small weyrs for a peek at the unusual
creature.

     Andren had given M'chell a strong sedative to
make him sleep.  His childhood friend had suffered
about as much physical and emotional shock as anyone
could endure.

     "I think you'd better explain things to me before
you have to answer to L'noth and the Masterhealer,"
Andren told D'vis.

Several hours later D'vis had told Andren everything
he knew about Skye.  Andren listened and understood
far more than D'vis had actually told him.  He sent
the bronze rider to bed and went to check on this
mysterious flyer.

     The light in the small cavern was dim.  M'chell
was deeply asleep so Andren didn't need to concern
himself with his friend waking up.  He was far more
interested in this `Skye' than anything else at this
point.  Skye's existence was beyond all understanding.
 He crossed the room and sat on a small stool next to
Skye.

     "How incredibly beautiful he is," Andren thought.


     The subdued light reflected softly off Skye's
bronze face.  His eyes were deeply set and thick black
lashes splayed across high cheekbones. Andren touched
his highly arched eyebrows and brushed them back into
place, for they had been ruffled badly.  Skye's lips
were full and sensuous, open slightly in sleep to show
even white teeth.

     The healer told himself that he was only
interested in the condition of his patient, but he
also had that curiosity that all men have for other
men as he drew the blanket down to survey Skye's
injuries.  There were a few minor burns that seemed to
be healing after M'chell had insisted that he use the
ooze from the plants that the Southern fire lizards
provided.  Skye's body was well muscled ... almost
perfect.

     Forcing himself to be professional, Andren
surveyed the work D'vis had done on the injured wing
and tendon.  He would have to tell the journeyman
healer how impressed he was for the scar over the
mended wing was negligible.

     The flyer stirred in his sleep and opened his
eyes.

     "Welcome back to the world of the living," Andren
whispered softly.  "We were all worried about you."

     "M'chell?" Skye queried.

     "Asleep," was the answer.  "My name is Andren,
and young D'vis has told me about you.  I want to
thank you for what you did, helping to save the
children, and for that remarkable plant D'vis said you
use."

     "The hatchlings are well?" Skye asked.

     "Hatchlings?  Oh, you mean the children.  Yes,
they're all fine.  Maybe a little ruffled from their
experience but they'll recover with time.  Right now
I'm more concerned about you.  Going `between' time is
so dangerous that it's a highly kept weyr secret.
Most of the dragon riders don't even know it can be
done.  You were fortunate that the dragons knew just
`when' you were."

     Skye didn't understand everything the healer was
saying, but he knew the voice was filled with true
compassion.  And he knew of the healer from some of
his lover's conversations with D'vis.  So long as he
knew the hatchlings were safe he was content.