Энн Маккефри: Beyond Between

She was at her wit’s end by the fifth evening when the full moon suddenly burst from behind windswept clouds, outlining her form just long enough for Thaniel to see her as she scratched her message in the dirt.

“Moreta!” the old man gasped, then ran, shrieking as loudly as Rusty ever had, back to his hold and slammed the door shut.

“Now I think I’ve got him,” she said with great satisfaction as she remounted Holth.

How long are we going to have to keep doing this, Moreta?Holth asked plaintively.

Not for much longer, Holth.She caressed the old dragon’s neck affectionately.Let’s go back to Marco in between.

After Marco had guided them back to Paradise River Cove, she told him of her progress.

“You probably scared him so much he thinks he’s going as mad as his runnerbeast.” Marco grinned. “I think you’re nearly there.”

It was the Runner Stationmaster himself who carried the message immediately to the Weyr, for Leri from Thaniel of Waterhole Hold. Everyone read it: “She comes every evening at the same time, just after sundown, when it’s growing dark. She asks for Leri. What can I do?”

“Ha! Weare stupid folk!” Leri said scathingly. “Orlith! Aren’t your eggs hard enough yet?”

A grumble echoed back from the Hatching Ground from Orlith, who was still fussing over a proper little mound of sand to raise her queen egg higher than the rest. She moved so slowly and carefully that it seemed as if she were putting each grain of sand in place individually. This, however, made her task seem too sadly pathetic to watch for very long.

“It’s her way of passing time,” Leri had remarked when this was pointed out to her.

Now she thanked the Runner Stationmaster graciously for the personal delivery and slipped him a full Harper Hall credit for his trouble.

“My pleasure, Weyrwoman. May I send back a message for you?”

“That would be most kind of you,” Leri said with great dignity, and hastily the Stationmaster took out a small pad and writer.

“Give him my thanks and say we shall be there soon. He can do nothing, like us, but wait until Orlith decides the eggs are ready to hatch. My thanks for your trouble.”

The Stationmaster bowed himself out of the Weyr.

It was before dawn one morning not long after, that Orlith informed Leri that her eggs would undoubtedly hatch that day. With gentle wing strokes, she rolled the queen egg to its special mound, while Leri waited in her Weyr, dressed in her warmest clothing.

“Not that warm clothing will do much good inbetween,” she remarked in her acerbic way, and hobbled to the entrance to her Weyr without a backward glance. She looked up toward the skies; a magnificent dawn would soon break. “Just the day to start the rest of my journey,” she said.

I hope this day is not marred by any unnecessary sadness, Orlith. A Hatching Day is to look to the future, not to regret the past.

Thaniel had remained at Waterhole Hold that day to bake bread. He needed to keep busy. The whole affair had already turned his hair white but, nonetheless, when the Stationmaster brought back Leri’s reply, he felt his ordeal might soon be over. Ignoring his children’s pleas to join them on their rounds to check the herds, Thaniel was determined to remain by his hold waiting for Leri. At his father’s suggestion, Maynar saddled Rusty and rode off with his siblings.

With Rusty gone, Thaniel was not aware that a dragon and rider had landed at the nearby waterhole. But when he looked up from his work, he saw the great gold queen, and Leri, huddled in furs, on the dragon’s back. Quickly he took a piece of fresh, hot bread and a cup of klah to the waiting Weyrwoman, who thanked him and ate willingly. He was sorry to see how gnarled the old woman’s fingers were and how awkwardly she held her body.

“If there is aught else I may do for you, Weyrwoman, you have but to call me and I will come,” Thaniel said.

“I am well enough as I am,” Leri replied in her brisk way, returning the empty plate to the holder.

Thaniel went back to his work, but kept an eye on the pair from the window as he kneaded the second batch of dough. He was clearing off the last of the flour from the worktop when he noticed that the sun was beginning to sink. So he poured himself another cup of klah, wondering whether he should bring more out to the old rider before he realized he had already poured two. He took one out to Leri, who thanked him for his thoughtfulness but sipped so slowly that Thaniel, whose bad leg was aching after the day’s baking, returned to his house, to rest himself for what else might happen on this unusual day.

It was about an hour later when the second dragon appeared. Thaniel let out a deep sigh when he heard the glad cries from the women, and the loud trumpeting of the dragons.

The reunions brought tears to Thaniel’s eyes as he looked on from the doorway. Moreta leapt from the back of Holth and ran to Orlith. She caressed her queen’s head, touching the pale gold neck with great tenderness as she gazed adoringly into faceted eyes that whirled bright blue with happiness. Leri dropped her cup and walked as quickly as she was able to meet Holth; she hugged her dragon’s neck fervently, as a newly Impressed weyrling would. Thaniel later said that he thought his heart would break at the old Weyrwoman’s joy.

“I never thought I’d see you again, dear heart,” Leri said amid tears of joy, while her fingers remembered the texture of Holth’s wattling hide.

The two weyrwomen spoke quietly to each other in the first light of the rising moon. What they said Thaniel would never know, but when he saw Leri settled, with some difficulty, on her dragon, he hurried out to them.

“Thank you, Holder Thaniel, for having the wit to know what we needed. The Weyrs will always be grateful to you and your family, as will Orlith and I.” Moreta’s voice, though faint, was full of warmth as she spoke to the old holder, regarding him intently. Then she turned her attention back to Leri.

“Now, we are matched correctly,” she said with an air of intense satisfaction.

Just then, Orlith jerked her head upright, swinging her eyes around in the direction of Fort Weyr. She gave a triumphant bugle, which Holth echoed.

“The queen egg has hatched; her name is Hannath and her rider is Oklina! Oh, I am pleased! Good news makes even the longest journey easier.”

“Young Alessan’s sister has Impressed?” Leri said. “I told you there was rider blood in Ruatha Hold.”

“Well, I am glad,” Moreta repeated. She squared her shoulders, putting all other thoughts from her head. She could not think of Alessan now. She turned to Leri. “We can go now, together, you and I, Orlith and Holth.”

She urged her dragon into motion. “Just the one more tripbetween, Orlith,” she said. “And I mean that.”

The dragon nodded her head once and, wheeling away from Holth, trotted a few paces to spring upward. Holth was right behind her, a front foot clipping the klah mug that Leri had dropped, scattering the pieces about. The tired old queen just managed to clear the ground and was into the air, urged on by her own eager rider. Both dragons were soon high enough so that their wings could sweep downward in a magnificent ascent. Emblazoned in the full moonlight, the two queen riders raised their right arms high above their heads, punching the air with clenched fists. Thaniel held his breath as suddenly both dragons disappearedbetween.

Thaniel wished them well, as his tears at last brimmed over. He bent to pick up the handle that was all that remained of the mug. He suddenly felt reassured for the first time in many years. Perhaps there was some other place he would go eventually; some place he did not yet know. Some place where he might even see his beloved wife again. He slipped the broken handle into his apron pocket and patted it — a keepsake by which to remember Moreta.