When, at last, a little bored, she condescended to glance at her followers, she was vaguely amused to see only three great beasts still pursuing. She recognized Mnementh, Orth, and Hath. All in their prime; worthy, perhaps, of her.

She glided down, tantalizing them, amused at their now labored flights. Hath she couldn’t bear. Orth? Now Orth was a fine young beast. She dropped her wings to slide between him and Mnementh.

As she swung past Mnementh, he suddenly closed his wings and dropped beside her. Startled, she tried to hover and found her wings fouled with his, his neck winding tightly about hers.

Entwined, they fell. Mnementh, calling on hidden reserves of strength, spread his wings to check their downward fall. Outmaneuvered and startled by the terrific speed of their descent, Ramoth, too, extended her great wings. And then . . .

Lessa reeled, her hands wildly grabbing out for any support. She seemed to be exploding back into her body, every nerve throbbing.

“Don’t faint, you fool. Stay with her.” F’lar’s voice grated in her ear. His arms roughly sustained her.

She tried to focus her eyes. She caught a startled glimpse of the walls of her own weyr. She clutched at F’lar, touching bare skin, shaking her head, confused.

“Bring her back.”

“How?” she cried, panting, unable to comprehend what could possibly entice Ramoth from such glory.

The pain of stinging blows on her face made her angrily aware of F’lar’s disturbing proximity. His eyes were wild, his mouth distorted.

“Think with her. She cannot go between. Stay with her.”

Trembling at the thought of losing Ramoth between, Lessa sought the dragon, still locked wing to wing with Mnementh.

The mating passion of the two dragons at that moment spiraled wide to include Lessa. A tidal wave rising relentlessly from the sea of her soul flooded Lessa. With a longing cry she clung to F’lar. She felt his body rock-firm against hers, his hard arms lifting her up, his mouth fastening mercilessly on hers as she drowned deep in another unexpected flood of desire.

“Now! We bring them safely home,” he murmured.

Dragonman, dragonman,

Between thee and thine,

Share me that glimpse of love

Greater than mine.

F’LAR CAME SUDDENLY awake. He listened attentively, heard and was reassured by Mnementh’s gratified rumble. The bronze was perched on the ledge outside the queen’s weyr. All was peacefully in order in the Bowl below.

Peaceful but different. F’lar, through Mnementh’s eyes and senses, perceived this instantly. There was an overnight change in the Weyr. F’lar permitted himself a satisfied grin at the previous day’s tumultuous events. Something might have gone wrong.

Something nearly did, Mnementh reminded him.

Who had called K’net and himself back? F’lar mused again. Mnementh only repeated that he had been called back. Why wouldn’t he identify the informer?

A nagging worry intruded on F’lar’s waking ruminations.

“Did F’nor remember to . . .” he began aloud.