McCaffrey, Anne – DragonQuest. Chapter 15, 16

Terror, horror, a whirling many-faceted impression of heat, violent wind, burning breathlessness, sent him staggering against N’ton as Grall, with a fearful shriek, launched herself from his hand and disappeared.

“What happened to her?” N’ton demanded, steadying the brown rider.

“I asked her,” and F’nor had to take a deep breath because her reaction had been rather shattering, “to go to the Red Star.”

“Well, that takes care of Brekke’s idea!”

“But why did she over react that way? Canth?”

She was afraid! Canth replied didactically, although he sounded as surprised as F’nor. You gave vivid coordinates.

“I gave vivid coordinates?”

Yes.

“What terrified Grall? You aren’t reacting the way she did and you heard the coordinates.”

She is young and silly. Canth paused, considering something. She remembered something that scared her. The brown dragon sounded puzzled by that memory.

“What does Canth say?” N’ton asked, unable to pick up the quick exchange.

“He doesn’t know what frightened her. Something she remembers, he says.”

“Remembers? She’s only been hatched a few weeks.”

“A moment, N’ton.” F’nor put his hand on the bronze rider’s shoulder to silence him for a thought had suddenly struck him. “Canth,” he said taking a deep breath, “You said the coordinates I gave her were vivid. Vivid enough — for you to take me to that fist I saw in the clouds?”

Yes, I can see where you want me to go, Canth replied so confidently that F’nor was taken aback. But this wasn’t a time to think things out.

He buckled his tunic tightly and jammed the gloves up under the wristbands.

“You going back now?” N’ton asked.

“Fun’s over here for the night,” F’nor replied with a nonchalance that astonished him. “Want to make sure Grall got back safely to Brekke. Otherwise I’ll have to sneak in to Southern to the cove where she hatched.”

“Have a care then,” N’ton advised. “At least we’ve solved one problem tonight. Meron can’t make that fire lizard of his go to the Red Star ahead of us.”

F’nor had mounted Canth. He tightened the fighting straps until they threatened to cut off circulation. He waved to N’ton and the watchrider, suppressing his rising level of excitement until Canth had taken him high above the Weyr.

Then he stretched flat along Canth’s neck and looped the hand straps double around his wrists. Wouldn’t do to fall off during this jump between.

Canth beat steadily upward, directly toward the baleful Red Star, high in the dark heavens, almost as if the dragon proposed to fly there straight.

Clouds were formed by water vapors, F’nor knew. At least they were on Pern. But it took air to support clouds. Air of some kind. Air could contain various gases. Over the plains of Igen where the noxious vapors rose from the yellow mountains you could suffocate with the odor and the stuff in your lungs. Different gases issued from the young fire mountains that had risen in the shallow western seas to spout flame and boiling rock into the water. The miners told of other gases, trapped in tunnel hollows. But a dragon was fast. A second or two in the most deadly gas the Red Star possessed couldn’t hurt. Canth would jump them between to safety.

They had only to get to that fist, close enough for Canth’s long eyes to see to the surface, under the cloud cover. One look to settle the matter forever. One look that F’nor — not F’lar — would make.

He began to reconstruct that ethereal fist, its alien fingers closing over the westering tip of grayness on the Red Star’s enigmatic surface. “Tell Ramoth. She’ll broadcast what we see to everyone, dragon, rider, fire lizard. We’ll have to go slightly between time, too, to the moment on the Red Star when I saw that fist. Tell Brekke.” And he suddenly realized that Brekke already knew, had known when she’d seduced him so unexpectedly. For that was why Lessa had confided in them, in Brekke. He couldn’t be angry with Lessa. She’d had the courage to take just such a risk seven Turns ago, when she’d seen a way back through time to bring up the five missing Weyrs.

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