with a glare. “You can talk to all the dragons, can’t you?” She didn’t wait for
a response. “Do you hear them die?”
“And feel them,” Lorana admitted quietly.
“Good,” Tullea replied heartlessly, storming from the room into her
dragon’s quarters. “Then whatever happens to Minith, I hope it hurts you as
much as anything.”
We have to do this, it is our duty,
Minith told her rider as Tullea scrunched
down between her dragon’s forelegs. From the farther weyr, Caranth
rumbled his agreement, which partway through turned into a long hacking
cough.
“And she never said anything more about the clutch?” M’tal asked B’nik as
they sat in front of one of the fires in the Kitchen Cavern. M’tal had
managed to lure B’nik away from the vigil over Minith late in the evening
after Tullea had finally nodded off.
“No,” B’nik answered. “When I mentioned it she called me a liar and started
shouting.” He shook his head sadly. “She didn’t use to be like this. She’s as
bad as some of those who timed it.”
M’tal’s eyes lit. “She is, isn’t she?” he said slowly. His brows furrowed in
thought.
“What is it?” B’nik asked.
M’tal looked up at B’nik. “I need you to come with me,” he said finally. He
raised his hand to forestall any of B’nik’s questions. “We’ll take Gaminth.
We won’t be long.”
“What for?”
“I’m not sure,” M’tal admitted, rising. “But if I’m right, I know why Tullea’s
acting this way.”
“Wake up!” Tullea’s voice carried across the room to Lorana. “Wake up,
dragonkiller. It seems your precious potion hasn’t worked.”
Lorana stood up quickly and looked at Minith. The gold queen was nearly
orange; her head hung listless and her breathing was labored.
“So, you’ve killed my dragon, too,” Tullea said, rising menacingly.
“That’s not so!” B’nik’s voice startled them. They turned to see him enter
with M’tal a step behind. “The cure will work.”
From the pouch hanging on his side he took a small syringe, twin to the one
Lorana had used before, and went to Caranth’s weyr. Quickly, he woke his
dragon and, talking softly all the while, injected him.
M’tal had a very smug expression on his face. “You know,” he said blandly,
“I never could figure out why High Reaches became so rude several Turns
back.”
Footsteps behind him announced the arrival of Kindan, Ketan, and Salina.
B’nik grinned impishly at the old Weyrleader. Lorana’s look of puzzlement
faded.
“Where I have just been, you are known as the dragons’ savior,” M’tal told
her softly.
“High Reaches!” Kindan exclaimed, slapping his forehead.
“Yes,” M’tal agreed. He turned to Lorana. “Your cure worked. But it is not
enough to hatch healthy dragons—”
“They have to be old enough to fly,” Lorana exclaimed with a groan.
“Tullea, it’s time to go,” B’nik said. He gestured behind her to Minith.
“She’s not able to fly!” Tullea protested.
“She is, and she will, because she
has,
” M’tal corrected her.
“Where am I going?” Tullea asked.
“To High Reaches,” B’nik said. “Three Turns back in time. You must warn
them and convince D’vin to close the Weyr.”
“Back in time?” Tullea repeated, looking from B’nik to M’tal. “To High
Reaches?”
“The sickness will not reach there, because you’ll get them to close the
Weyr,” M’tal explained.
“I can’t go alone!” Tullea cried, looking around.
Ketan stepped forward. “I’ll go with you,” he told her.
Tullea had hardly left, and the astonished remainder had barely gotten into
the Kitchen Cavern for an early breakfast before they felt the arrival of a
dragon from
between.
Lorana rushed out into the Bowl.
“Minith!” she cried. “What are you doing back so—”
Tullea jumped down beside her dragon. The queen rider was smiling and
more relaxed than Lorana had ever seen her.
And she was
older,
Lorana realized.
Tullea gave Lorana a measured look, then smiled. “Lorana,” she began, “I
know it’s only been a moment for you, but—” She stopped, her voice
catching in her throat.
“You have saved the dragons, all the dragons of Pern,” she said finally.
“You saved my Minith.” She gestured fondly back at her dragon.
“I’m sorry for all the terrible things I said and did to you—you didn’t deserve
any of it,” she told Lorana contritely.
“She was in two times at once, for over three Turns,” Ketan explained.
“I felt like I was always torn apart, stretched!” Tullea told the group. “But it
was worth it. Ketan has serum for all the dragons here at Benden,” she went
on happily. “And riders have been dispatched to Fort and Ista, as well.
“The serum is dragon’s blood,” she explained. “Ketan says it’s not like
human blood—that’s why we call it ‘ichor.’ The blood alone will provide the
cure for the other dragons.”
She smiled at Lorana. “You did it! You saved them all!”
Tullea paused and reached into her wher-hide jacket. “This is yours. I took it
from the first Learning Room.”
She pressed a small object into Lorana’s outstretched hand.
A burst of cold air announced the arrival of another dragon from
between.
It
was a bronze dragon, full-grown, larger than any Lorana had seen.
I am Kmuth,
the dragon told her. Above him, his young rider bowed
deeply.
I greet you.
Lorana looked at the object in her hand. It was some sort of case. The top
was covered with a very old version of the Masterhealer’s mark. She turned
it over and gasped as she saw that the bottom had her own Animal Healer
mark carefully drawn on it.
There was another burst of cold air and a brown dragon appeared.
I am
Aloth, Lorana.
Oh, you’re beautiful,
Lorana told the brown, who flapped his wings in
pleasure.
An enormous burst of cold from
between
announced the arrival of the
largest dragon ever seen at Benden Weyr.
I am Tolarth,
the newest queen dragon of Pern told Lorana proudly.
“Open it,” Tullea said, her voice wavering with emotion.
Lorana looked up and was surprised to see tears rolling down Tullea’s
cheeks.
“Please, you’ll see,” Tullea pressed.
Lorana opened it. She gasped and cried out loud. Kindan heard the noise
and rushed to her side.
“Look!” she said, showing the case to Kindan. “See?”
Inside the case was a three-linked locket. Lorana lifted it out and opened it
up. The middle link was made of Arith’s saddle star.
“Where? How?” Kindan asked in amazement.
Lorana didn’t hear him. The other two links in the locket had pictures in
them. She looked at the first one—it was a small painting of a very ancient
woman with a very compassionate face.
“Is that—is that Wind Blossom?” Kindan asked in awe. “And who’s this
scarfaced man?”
Lorana turned to look at the second locket and cried out loud.
“What is it?” Kindan asked, wrapping an arm around her comfortingly.
“It’s Grenn!” Lorana cried, pointing to the small fire-lizard perched on the
man’s shoulder, tears of joy streaming down her face. “That’s my fire-lizard!
He lived! He made it back in time, and he
lived
!”
And the children shall lead you.
Benden Weyr, First Interval, AL 59
I’ve always felt that there was something missing,” Tieran mused to his
companion.
“You are a romantic,” she said.
“Where to put it?” Tieran muttered to himself, searching the room.
“Someplace not too obvious . . . ah! Here.” He put down the locket.
“What do you hope to gain with that?”
“I want her to know that
we
knew her pain. That we understood.”
“Tieran, whoever it is won’t be born for hundreds of Turns. We have no way
of knowing that this will even work.”
“It’ll work,” Tieran said assuredly. “I know it.”
“How?” Emorra asked. “My love, sometimes I think you are too much of a
dreamer.”
“Daddy!” A small boy’s voice called.
“We’ll be right there,” Tieran replied.
“Really, Tieran,” Emorra shook her head.
“Did you ever wonder how she touched your mother? Did you wonder why
this clever one—” He stroked the fire-lizard affectionately. “—appeared?
There was a bond.”
“Yes, I agree.”
“A familial bond. Whoever she is, she is one of our children’s children.”
Emorra pursed her lips and nodded. “I’ve always agreed with you on that,
love.”
“Mommy!” the boy cried impatiently.
“We’ll be right there,” Emorra replied, cocking her head at Tieran and then
in the direction of the boy.
Tieran smiled triumphantly at her as he caught her hand in his and they
turned to go to their son. “And have you ever known one of us
not
to get our
way in the end?”
This book is the first book written solely by someone else in Anne
McCaffrey’s Pern universe. I would like to thank Ms. McCaffrey—“Thank
you, Mum!”—for letting me do so. I was thrilled to get a smiley face from
her on my outline, as well as all her encouragement and her bravery in
letting someone else play in her very special sandbox.
The quality of that outline was dramatically improved by the comments of
Michael Reaves, Brynne Chandler, and Jenna Scott.
I would also like to thank my sister, Georgeanne Kennedy, for her insightful
comments and questions, and for her unfailing support in my efforts to write
this novel.
This novel would not have happened at all without the encouragement,
understanding, and keen insight of my editor, Shelly Shapiro, of Del Rey
Books. She not only encouraged me when I needed it but also challenged
me to stretch to greater heights—the true hallmark of a great editor.
While too many cooks may spoil the broth, it is amazing how many sets of
eyes can gaze over the same mistakes—and miss them. I am very grateful
to Judith Welsh, my editor at Transworld, for catching errors that no one
else noticed.
I would also like to thank Don Maass of the Donald Maass Literary Agency
for his steady support, keen insights, and quiet encouragement.
I would like to thank Harry and Marilyn Alm for their prompt replies to
questions regarding Threadfalls and particularly recommend Harry’s
Threadfall charts for anyone seriously interested in figuring out what goes
where on Pern—at least when it comes to nasty stuff.
I am also indebted to Dr. Natascha Latenschlauger for her help in dealing
with illnesses and genetic material, no matter which planet it comes from.
I want to thank my early readers, Sonia Orin Lyris, Angel Hanley, Harry and
Marilyn Alm, and—of course—Anne McCaffrey (Mum) for all their
comments, suggestions, and insights without which this book would not be.
Finally, I would like to sing the praises of my copy editor from Del Rey,
Martha Trachtenberg, who caught or questioned countless errors in the
original manuscript and whose songwriting knowledge made “Wind
Blossom’s Song” vastly superior.
Any mistakes, errors, and omissions still found are all mine.
By Todd McCaffrey
Published by Ballantine Books
DRAGONSBLOOD
By Anne McCaffrey and Todd McCaffrey
DRAGON’S KIN
Dragonsblood
is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are
products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
A Del Rey® Book
Published by The Random House Publishing Group
Copyright © 2005 by Todd McCaffrey and Anne McCaffrey
Introduction copyright © 2005 by Anne McCaffrey
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright
Conventions. Published in the United States by Del Rey Books, an imprint
of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House,
Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of
Canada Limited, Toronto.
Del Rey is a registered trademark and the Del Rey colophon is a trademark
of Random House, Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
McCaffrey, Todd J.
Dragonsblood / Todd McCaffrey.
p. cm.
“A Del Rey book”—T.p. verso
eISBN 0-345-48193-3
1. Pern (Imaginary place)—Fiction. 2. Life on other planets—Fiction. 3.
Dragons—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3613.C343D73 2005
813'.6—dc22 2004051086
Map by Joan C. Symons
v1.0
About this Title
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