“Only now,” N’ton said softly, “we know what that design means.”

Lessa shot him a long look and nearly flooded Wansor’s cup.

“Indeed. The actual experience is the knowing, N’ton.”

“I gather you have both spent the night at that distance-viewer?” asked F’lar. When they nodded, he asked, “What of the Red Star? Did you see anything that could guide us in?”

“As to that, sir,” N’ton answered after a questioning glance at Wansor, “there is an odd-shaped protuberance which puts me in mind of the tip of Nerat, only pointed east instead of west—” His voice trailed off and he gave a diffident shrug of his shoulders.

F’lar sighed and leaned back again, all the eagerness gone from his face.

“Insufficient detail, huh?”

“Last night,” N’ton added in hurried qualification.

“I doubt the following nights will alter the view.”

“On the contrary, Weyrleader,” said Wansor, his eyes wide, “the Red Star turns on its own axis much as Pern does.”

“But it is still too far away to make out any details,” Lessa said firmly.

F’lar shot her an annoyed look. “If I could only see for myself…”

Wansor looked up brightly. “Well, now, you know, I had about figured out how to utilize the lenses from the magnifier. Of course, there’d be no such maneuverability as one can achieve with the ancient device, but the advantage is that I could set up those lenses on your own Star Stones. It’s rather interesting, too, because if I put one lens in the Eye Rock and set the other on the Finger Rock, you will see—or, but then you won’t see, will you?” And the little man seemed to deflate.

“Won’t see what?”

“Well, those rocks are situated to catch the Red Star only at winter solstice, so of course the angles are wrong for any other time of year. But then, I could—no.” Wansor’s face was puckered with his intense frown. Only his eyes moved, restlessly, as the myriad thoughts he was undoubtedly sifting were reflected briefly. “I will think about it. But I am sure that I can devise a means of your seeing the Red Star, Weyrleader, without moving from Benden.”

“You must be exhausted, Wansor,” Lessa said, before F’lar could ask another question.

“Oh, not to mention,” Wansor replied, blinking hard to focus on her.

“Enough to mention,” Lessa said firmly and took the cup from his hand, half-lifting him from the stool. “I think, Master Wansor, that you had better sleep here at Benden a little while.”

“Oh, could I? I’d the most fearful notion that I might fall off the dragon between. But that couldn’t happen, could it? Oh, I can’t stay. I have the Craft’s dragon. Really, perhaps I’d just better…”

His voice trailed off as Lessa led him down the corridor.