Brekke rose and began to dress in riding clothes. The five lizards started to keen now, flitting around the room, swooping in wild dives as if they wanted to escape some unseen danger.

“Get me some klah,” she repeated, because Mirrim stood watching her like a numbwit.

Her trio of fire-lizards had followed her out before Brekke realized her error. They’d probably rouse the Lower Caverns with their distress. She called but Mirrim didn’t hear her. Cold chills made her fingers awkward.

Canth wouldn’t go if he felt it would endanger F’nor. Canth has sense, Brekke told herself trying to convince herself. He knows what he can and can’t do. Canth is the biggest, fastest, strongest brown dragon on Pern. He’s almost as large as Mnementh and nearly as smart.

Brekke heard Ramoth’s brassy bugle of alarm just as she received the incredible message from Canth.

Going to the Red Star? On the coordinates of a cloud? She staggered against the table, her legs trembling. She managed to sit but her hands shook so, she couldn’t pour the wine. Using both hands, she got the bottle to her lips and swallowed some that way. It helped.

She’d somehow not believed they’d see a way to go. Was that what had frightened Grall so?

Ramoth kept up her alarm and Brekke now heard the other dragons bellowing with worry.

She fumbled with the last closing of her tunic and forced herself to her feet, to walk to the ledge. The fire-lizards kept darting and diving around her, keening wildly; a steady, nerve-jangling double trill of pure terror.

She halted at the top of the stairs, stunned by the confusion in the crepuscular gloom of the Weyr Bowl. There were dragons on ledges, fanning their wings with agitation. Other beasts were circling around at dangerous speeds. Some had riders, most were flying free. Ramoth and Mnementh were on the Stones, their wings outstretched, their tongues flicking angrily, their eyes bright orange as they bugled to their Weyrmates. Riders and weyrfolk were running back and forth, yelling, calling to their beasts, questioning each other for the source of this inexplicable demonstration.

Brekke futilely clapped her hands to her ears, searching the confusion for a sight of Lessa or F’lar. Suddenly they both appeared at the steps and came running up to her. F’lar reached Brekke first, for Lessa hung back, one hand steadying herself against the wall.

“Do you know what Canth and F’nor are doing?” the Weyrleader cried. “Every beast in the Weyr is shrieking at the top of voice and mind!” He covered his own ears, glaring furiously at her, expecting an answer.

Brekke looked toward Lessa, saw the fear and the guilt in the Weyrwoman’s eyes.

“Canth and F’nor are on their way to the Red Star.”