“So we should have you back in half the time,” Fiona replied, pulling open the second door and gesturing for the young weyrfolk to head inside. “You’ve got three sacks already, how many more?”

“Five each,” T’mar said after a moment’s thought. “That way we’ll be able to fight a full Fall, if needed.”

“You think that K’lior might pull replacements directly from these wings?”

“It depends upon how the Fall goes,” T’mar replied. “He could just as easily put one wing into the fight and use the other to resupply.” He shrugged. “I think this will work either way.”

Fiona, who saw no flaw in this logic, flagged Terin and started her on the count. “Five each!”

All too quickly, Terin reached, “One-fifty, stop!” And the dragons rose into the air again, climbed up to the Star Stones, and, with Talenth’s cheerful salute, disappeared once more between to battle Thread.

As they disappeared, Fiona reached out and wrapped her arm around Terin’s shoulders. The young girl looked up at her for a moment then buried her head against Fiona’s chest.

K’lior glanced around as the massed wings of Ista and Fort charged up to greet the downpouring Thread. They had arranged themselves just behind the Benden riders until M’tal’s signal for them to break off, and then with a roar, K’lior urged his men upward.

The changeover had been perfect but now, only an hour into a two-hour fight, the dragons were getting weary, particularly the Istan dragons whose riders seemed determined to handle the entire left half of the Fall on their own. K’lior understood pride and worked as best he could with it, but when the Istans took their second loss—one that looked permanent—K’lior didn’t hesitate to dispatch a replacement from T’mar’s wing.

Tell Lolanth that we’ll thicken his wing, K’lior said, sending D’teril and S’gan to join them. The two blue riders were glad to tear away from the reserves, dropping their spare sacks, and were quickly assimilated into the left and right flanks of the Istan riders.

A sudden roar from behind caused K’lior to duck and send Rineth plummeting out of the way of a clump of Thread that had fallen dangerously close while he’d been distracted.

K’lior had the image of a blue wall in motion, flame at the forefront as F’dan and Ridorth fought to protect him—but not without cost. K’lior heard F’dan’s terrible shriek and Ridorth’s concerned bugle and then the pair were gone, between.