“F’lar, it’s not working out! You can’t be alive in two times at once!” F’nor was exclaiming distractedly. He staggered against the wall, grabbing the sheer rock to hold himself upright. There were deep circles under his eyes, visible despite the tan. “I don’t know how much longer we can last like this. We’re all affected. Some days not as badly as others.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your dragons are all right,” F’nor assured the Weyrleader with a bitter laugh. “It doesn’t bother them. They keep all their wits about them. But their riders … all the weyrfolk … we’re shadows, half alive, like dragonless men, part of us gone forever. Except Kylara.” His face contorted with intense dislike. ““AQ she wants to do is go back and watch herself. The woman’s egomania will destroy us all, I’m afraid.” His eyes suddenly lost focus, and he swayed wildly. His eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. “I can’t stay. I’m here already. Too close. Makes it twice as bad. But I had to warn you. I promise, F’lar, we’ll stay as long as we can, but it won’t be much longer … so it won’t be long enough, but we tried.
We tried!”
Before F’lar could move, the brown rider whirled and ran, half-crouched, from the room.
“But he hasn’t gone yetl” Lessa gasped. “He hasn’t even gone yet!”
F’lar stared after his half brother, his brows contracting with the keen anxiety he felt.
“What can have happened?” Lessa demanded of the Weyrleader. “We haven’t even told F’nor. We ourselves just finished considering the idea.” Her hand flew to her own cheek. “And the Thread-mark.. I dressed it myself tonight it’s gone. Gone. So he’s been gone a long while.” She sank down to the bench.
“However, he has come back. So he did go,” F’lar remarked slowly in a reflective tone of voice. “Yet we now know the venture is not entirely successful even before it begins. And knowing this, we have sent him back ten Turns for whatever good it is doing.” F’lar paused thoughtfully.
“Consequently we have no alternative but to continue with the experiment.”
“But what could be going wrong?”
“I think I know and there is no remedy.” He sat down beside her, his eyes intent on hers. “Lessa, you were very upset when you got back from going between to Ruatha that first time. But I think now it was more than just the shock of seeing Fax’s men invading your own Hold or in thinking your return might have been responsible for that disaster. I think it has to do with being in two times at once.” He hesitated again, trying to understand this immense new concept even as he voiced it.
Lessa regarded him with such awe that he found himself laughing with embarrassment.
“It’s unnerving under any conditions,” he went on, “to think of returning and seeing a younger self.”
“That must be what he meant about Kylara,” Lessa gasped, “about her wanting to go back and watch herself … as a child. Oh, that wretched girl!” Lessa was filled with anger for Kylara’s selfabsorption. “Wretched, selfish creature. She’ll ruin everything.”
“Not yet,” F’lar reminded her. “Look, although F’nor warned us that the situation in his time is getting desperate, he didn’t tell us how much he was able to accomplish. But you noticed that his scar had healed to invisibilityconsequently some Turns must have elapsed. Even if Pridith lays one good-sized clutch, even if just the forty of Ramoth’s are mature enough to fight in three days’ time, we have accomplished something. Therefore,Weyrwoman,” and he noticed how she straightened up at the sound of her title, “we must disregard F’nor’s return. When you fly to the Sounthern Continent tomorrow, make no allusion to it. Do you understand?”
Lessa nodded gravely and then gave a little sigh. “I don’t know if I’m happy or disappointed to realize, even before we get there tomorrow, that the Southern Continent obviously will support a Weyr,” she said with dismay. “It was kind of exciting to wonder.”
“Either way,” F’lar told her with a sardonic smile, “we have found only part of the answers to problems one and two.”