Chapters (64)
- Other titles by Anne McCaffreyPublished by Ballantine Books:
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Contents
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- INTRODUCTION
- PROLOGUE
- At a Gather—6.15.30
- Part 1
- Turnover at Landing—1.1.31 Present Pass Aivas—Aivas Adjusted Turn 2553
- Benden Weyr—1.1.31
- Southern Hold—1.1.31
- Healer Hall—1.1.31
- Back at Landing—1.2.31
- Fort Hold—late night—1.1.31
- Fort Hold Runner Station—1.2.31
- Keroon Printer Hall—1.3.31
- Benden Weyr—midday—1.3.31
- Monaco Bay Weyr—five days later—1.8.31
- Part 2
- Ruatha Hold—local time 12:04 in the morning—1.9.31
- Telgar Weyr—local time 4:04 in the morning—1.9.31
- Benden Weyr—local time 6:04 in the morning—1.9.31
- Harper Hall—local time 1:00 in the morning—1.9.31
- Landing—local time 10:12 mid-morning—1.9.31
- In the Conference Room at Landing—1.9.31
- Monaco Weyr—10:22 in the morning—Timing it
- In the Conference Room at Landing—local time 1:10–1.9.31
- Sunrise Cliff Seahold—timed-back
- In the Conference Room—local time 2:12 at Landing—1.9.31
- Back at Landing—local time—3:40
- Harper Hall—5:00 in the morning, and Southern Hold—2:00 in the morning–1.9.31
- Landing—late afternoon—1.9.31
- Same time at Keroon Printer Hall—local time 11:15—1.9.31
- Later, on an unusually bright evening at Landing, Sunrise Cliff, and Honshu Hold—1.9.31
- Part 3
- Honshu—1.10.31
- Circle Runner Station—1.18.31
- Harper Hall
- Benden Weyr—
- Benini Hold—east Monaco and Honshu—1.20.31
- Harper Hall—1.28.31
- Honshu Hold—2.1.31
- Fort Hold—2.13.31
- Printer Hall at Wide Bay—same night
- Honshu Hold—2.9.31
- Night at Wide Bay—2.9.31
- Ruatha Hold—late evening—2.9.31
- Core Hold—two days before Council Meeting—2.26.31
- Part 4
- Honshu Weyrhold—2.26–27.31
- Council Meeting at Telgar Hold—3.1.31
- Honshu Weyrhold—3.01.31
- Interim at Benden and elsewhere
- Honshu Weyrhold—time passing slowly
- Landing—3.21.31
- Honshu Weyrhold—3.21.31
- Southern Hold—3.23.31
- Honshu Weyrhold—3.27.31
- Benden Weyr—3.27.31
- Cove Hold—same day, same approximate time
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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“They’ve gone!” cried the youngster with keen disappointment. He whirled at the dragonriders as if their appearance had frightened the dolphins.
F’lessan was intensely relieved that not a single dorsal fin remained visible. They might be cutting it fine to reach safe depths, but they’d kept their pact with humans once again in giving an alarm.
“The dolphins … the shipfish,” he continued in a voice loud enough to reach those still mesmerized by the vision, “are warning you. Surely you know they consider that their duty to all sea folk.” He pointed at the man who had challenged him.
“Yeyah, they let us know where fish schools, when squalls’re coming, but never seen ’em act like that before.” The man preferred to watch the sinking fireball than attend the dragonrider.
“Look, man, it’s not just Thread that falls from the skies!” F’lessan said. “We’re here to move you to the cliffs, up there, high enough to be away from the wave.”
“Wave?” Another man walked toward F’lessan, his expression patronizingly amiable. “We’re well above the high tide …”
“Not this one,” F’lessan said.
“Ah, now, bronze rider, I can see you ain’t even wearing Monaco’s badge. What call have you to—”
“We’re Monaco!” C’reel said and St’ven nodded emphatically “Listen to F’lessan, Golanth’s rider!”
“We’re evacuating you,” St’ven added. “All the coastal holds. Every Weyr is helping!”
F’lessan swung his leg over and slid down, gesturing for the brown riders to dismount. Maybe face-to-face, not perched on a bronze dragon, he could instill some urgency for the present crisis.
“Who’s Seaholder?” he asked, striding as fast as he could across the soft sand to the crowd.
“Me!” The first man jerked a thick, scarred thumb at his tanned chest. He wore the customary sleeveless top and shorts. He had strong hairy legs and was barefoot, toes splayed in the sand. “Binness, Journeyman, FishCraftHall!”
“Journeyman Binness, we are acting under orders from T’gellan, your Weyrleader and—” F’lessan had a sudden surge of inspiration—“MasterFishman Curran, to evacuate all your people to high ground.” He gestured broadly to the western arm of the cliff, higher by a half dragon-length than the eastern one.
Binness chortled. “Don’t try that one on me, bronze rider. The Master’s way east at Tillek as he should be.”
“It makes no difference where he should be, Journeyman,” C’reel said, losing patience. “He is at Landing, meeting with everyone trying to save lives.”