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Chapters (64)
  1. Other titles by Anne McCaffreyPublished by Ballantine Books:
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Contents
  6. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  7. INTRODUCTION
  8. PROLOGUE
  9. At a Gather—6.15.30
  10. Part 1
  11. Turnover at Landing—1.1.31 Present Pass Aivas—Aivas Adjusted Turn 2553
  12. Benden Weyr—1.1.31
  13. Southern Hold—1.1.31
  14. Healer Hall—1.1.31
  15. Back at Landing—1.2.31
  16. Fort Hold—late night—1.1.31
  17. Fort Hold Runner Station—1.2.31
  18. Keroon Printer Hall—1.3.31
  19. Benden Weyr—midday—1.3.31
  20. Monaco Bay Weyr—five days later—1.8.31
  21. Part 2
  22. Ruatha Hold—local time 12:04 in the morning—1.9.31
  23. Telgar Weyr—local time 4:04 in the morning—1.9.31
  24. Benden Weyr—local time 6:04 in the morning—1.9.31
  25. Harper Hall—local time 1:00 in the morning—1.9.31
  26. Landing—local time 10:12 mid-morning—1.9.31
  27. In the Conference Room at Landing—1.9.31
  28. Monaco Weyr—10:22 in the morning—Timing it
  29. In the Conference Room at Landing—local time 1:10–1.9.31
  30. Sunrise Cliff Seahold—timed-back
  31. In the Conference Room—local time 2:12 at Landing—1.9.31
  32. Back at Landing—local time—3:40
  33. Harper Hall—5:00 in the morning, and Southern Hold—2:00 in the morning–1.9.31
  34. Landing—late afternoon—1.9.31
  35. Same time at Keroon Printer Hall—local time 11:15—1.9.31
  36. Later, on an unusually bright evening at Landing, Sunrise Cliff, and Honshu Hold—1.9.31
  37. Part 3
  38. Honshu—1.10.31
  39. Circle Runner Station—1.18.31
  40. Harper Hall
  41. Benden Weyr—
  42. Benini Hold—east Monaco and Honshu—1.20.31
  43. Harper Hall—1.28.31
  44. Honshu Hold—2.1.31
  45. Fort Hold—2.13.31
  46. Printer Hall at Wide Bay—same night
  47. Honshu Hold—2.9.31
  48. Night at Wide Bay—2.9.31
  49. Ruatha Hold—late evening—2.9.31
  50. Core Hold—two days before Council Meeting—2.26.31
  51. Part 4
  52. Honshu Weyrhold—2.26–27.31
  53. Council Meeting at Telgar Hold—3.1.31
  54. Honshu Weyrhold—3.01.31
  55. Interim at Benden and elsewhere
  56. Honshu Weyrhold—time passing slowly
  57. Landing—3.21.31
  58. Honshu Weyrhold—3.21.31
  59. Southern Hold—3.23.31
  60. Honshu Weyrhold—3.27.31
  61. Benden Weyr—3.27.31
  62. Cove Hold—same day, same approximate time
  63. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  64. What’s next onyour reading list?

“There’s not much Ramoth doesn’t know if she wants to find out,” Lessa said, looking up at him and giving him an encouraging little smile. “Now, there is a celebration going on around us. I think we’ve inspected Golanth’s weyr sufficiently to know it will suit and I think you’d better calm him down.”

Golanth was bugling and his happy voice did not mirror the anguish of F’lessan’s recent numbing thoughts. None had leaked to his dragon, for which he was intensely grateful. Now Golanth was happily prancing up the ramp. His mind was all about being free of the terrace. F’lessan concentrated on that positive thought, reinforced it by what F’lar had just said. Practice? Yes, practice. Zaranth and Golanth hadn’t done so badly in the two movings they’d attempted so far. They could practice. He could feel the thud of Golanth’s feet in the ground under his.

Lessa gave him a little shake. “Come, F’lessan, you’ve other things to do now,” she said softly and then pulled his arm.

In the few steps back into the sunlight, he quenched that black moment of anger and mind-numbing despair, forced himself through them to grasp what hope allowed. He joined the applause as Golanth came charging back to the foot of the ramp, limping only slight on his left hind leg. His right wing was fully extended and, if the left was canted downward, it was straighter than it had been now the dragon didn’t have to worry about banging into Honshu’s wall.

Maybe swimming and dolphin massage would loosen that joint just enough—

“Don’t consider anything else, rider,” said his father in a low voice, striding past him.

F’lessan turned back and held out his hand. “Tai?” he asked hopefully.

She came out of the shadow of the ramp, too, and took his hand. They walked out to Golanth. “Remember, F’lessan, I have chosen you. I now reaffirm it.” Her hand was tight on his as they began the walk up the ramp.

Southern Hold—3.23.31

Toric was overseeing the unloading of several prime breeding pairs of canines: big strapping animals, deep in the chest, thick-necked, well-set teeth, sturdy legs, dark to mid-brown short-haired—a necessary trait since parasites could cling to long fur to burrow into the host body. Shrewd calculating eyes, unafraid, despite a journey stuffed in a cramped forward compartment.

“They weren’t seasick,” the handler said approvingly, with a slight emphasis on the pronoun. “Name’s Pinch, Lord Toric.”

“Why the muzzles?” Toric asked, flicking his thick fingers in acknowledgment of the name.

“One of the females is near her heat. Couldn’t have them biting, fighting.”

“Aren’t they trained?”

The handler, a medium-sized man with an angular face somewhat marred by tar stains and dirt, brown eyes, serious sort of expression, gave Toric a hard stare.