Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern 201
Nonetheless, Moreta was trembling with fatigue by the time she finished.
We must return, Holth said in an inarguable tone.
Moreta was more than willing, but oddly disturbed by some non-specific anxiety. She looked toward Falga, who was either unconscious or sleeping under the furs of the stretcher. Troubled, Moreta looked over the rocky Bowl, at the other injured dragons.
“You look very pale, Moreta,” Pressen said, lightly touching her arm with his red-stained hand. “I’m sure we can handle any other injuries. It was just thatthe whole wing! Your work was an inspiration.”
“Thank you. Just keep the bones saturated with numbweed. Once the joints have started to produce ichor, that will coat the wounds and the healing process will begin.”
“I had never really considered that dragons get injured by Thread,” Pressen said, his expression respectful as he flicked his eyes to the dragons on the ledges and the seven pinnacles.
Come! Mount! Holth’s tone was more urgent, and there was nothing of Oriith in her voice.
“I must leave.” Moreta swung up onto Holth’s back, noting in the back other mind that Holth was leaner than Oriith and no longer as tall in the shoulder. Or maybe it was the way Holth had of assuming a half-crouch.
As the old queen gathered herself, Moreta suppressed a concern that the dragon was too tired for a standing start. Her hindquarters Moreta’s head snapped back as Holth sprang powerfully upward, and she devoutly hoped that the queen had been unable to track her secret doubts. To cover her embarrassment, Moreta visualized the Star Stones of Fort Weyr, the largest of those monuments, and the mountain peak that soared behind the Stones.
Please take us to Fort, HolthI
Holth complied without clearing the High Reaches Weyr rim. During the searing moment of cold between, Moreta’s hands stung in the gloves. She ought to have oiled them again. She was always acquiring little nicks and needle scratches during a repair. The green weyrling greeted them on their return, bugling on an unexpectedly Joyful note.
Holth glided to her ledge, coming in a shade too fast, Moreta thought, bracing herself for the landing.
202 Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern
You are needed, Holth said as Moreta loosened the straps and slid down.
“I’ll just remove your harness”
/ need you now! Orlith’s voice was petulant. I’ve been waiting for you!
“Of course you have, love, and very goodnatured you were to let me go”
Leri says you shouldn’t waste any time, Holth added, the facets of her eyes beginning to whirl faster.
“Something’s happened to Oriith?” Moreta skipped down the stone steps as fast as she could, her heart pounding. She raced around the comer into her weyr, knocking her shoulder as she bounced into the turn.
Oriith had her head angled to catch the first possible glimpse of her rider. As Moreta barreled into the weyr, Oriith bugled repeatedly.
As she threw her arms around her dragon’s head, Moreta noticed Leri standing to one side, wrapped up in sleeping furs, looking excessively pleased.
“We managed just fine,” she explained between Orlith’s effusions, “but the sooner you get her to the Hatching Ground the better. I don’t think she could have held out much longer, but you were needed badly at High Reaches, weren’t you?”
Between apologies and encouragements to her dragon, Moreta agreed.
“No one even knew you were gone,” Leri said, “but I doubt I could have sustained the deception getting Oriith to the Hatching Ground.”
I really need to go, Oriith said plaintively.