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Murk, Galeia’s dark-skinned blue firelizard, was a creature well suited to spying. Antisocial and secretive, the flitt had been a perfect choice to send to the hatching, where he could lurk in the high crevices of the cavern and overlook the proceedings unnoticed. However, after Yirath had snapped two less wary firelizards into mincemeat, he had returned to the Harper Hall in a panic that soon spread to the apprentice harper’s other three firelizards. The chaos only became worse when the weyrleader and his dragon banished firelizards from the weyr, and Winderick’s two flits joined her fair in renewed alarm. Since then, information had been precious. Had Yirath really attacked a candidate? Were there really two queens, or was it twin greens? And had someone really come drunk and send their dragon Between just after Impressing? And, and this was most important, what had happened to Winderick?

Midafternoon on the day after the hatching feast, Galeia finally overcame Dew, her bronze’s, gifted memory of “blood, pain, teeth!” and ordered him Between to the weyr. What she hadn’t anticipated was that he would then order the other five (including Winderick’s silver and blue) to accompany
him. With a series of excited squeals, they blinked out of the Harper Hall –

– And into the Candidate barracks! Winderick’s bunk was no longer occupied, and the wheeling and squealing fair created a flurry of activity around the room before streaking away, down the halls, separating across the weyr. They blinked and streaked every which way until a silver firelizard suddenly appeared in the weyrling barracks. Dew, picking up on Squall’s discovery, appeared shortly after, followed by the rest of the bunch. Galeia’s bronze, brown, blue, and green, all chittering squeaking wildly, wheeled about the room in a frenzied flurry that refused to land or come anywhere near the pale blue hatchling in the room. Tied to Dew’s leg was a slightly crumpled roll of paper, though the bronze seemed to have no interest in delivering it.

While Mya oiled Mawsith in the Bowl W’rick chose to shun the daylight and take advantage of the empty barrack, leaving only to retrieve a rag and bucket of oil for his chore. Pectolath sat up in his sleeping hollow and looked to His with eyes of deep blue. Sitting on his knees, W’rick dipped the rag into the bucket and rung it out before applying it to the brilliant blue hide under Pectolath’s left wing. The old rag scraped away the dead skin from the blue’s growing body with a sound like two people whispering in a dark corner of a quiet room. Outside dragons took off and landed and weyrlings chatted in the Bowl while candidates and weyrfolk went about their business in Benden’s caves. Pectolath closed his eyes and thrummed. He lifted his front leg so W’rick could reach his chest. ”Scrub harder, I can’t feel it.”

”Like this?”

”Yeeeeees.”

Suddenly something went pop! W’rick and Pectolath stopped what they were doing and turned to look. The silver flit trilled with glee and dove straight into W’rick’s arms, crawled over his shoulders and onto the top of his head where he stood with wings spread in triumph. W’rick peered up at the flit while Pectolath watched with wary curiosity. “Squall?”

No sooner had W’rick spoken than nearly half a dozen flits popped into his room in a multicolored whirlwind. Pectolath screeched in surprise and backed up into a shelf sending its contents onto the floor. A dark blue flit flew straight at W’rick’s face and he ducked, nearly knocking over the oil bucket in the chaos of wheeling, squealing flitters. Shielding his face, W’rick squinted at the swarm, too startled to even curse. Pectolath spread his wings, body pressed against the bottom shelves, yellow eyes whirling about the room. A speckled bronze flew past and W’rick’s memory clicked. W’rick and Pectolath exchanged knowing glances and W’rick scrambled to his feet, stumbling out of the flight path of a speedy green with Squall still clinging to the back of his head. “Everybody shut up! SHUT UP!!”

”BE QUIET!” Pectolath roared.

The firelizards in the air squealed and there was a sudden scratching of claws as Tide, Murk, and Mire came to the swiftest halt possible by clinging to the nearest stone walls. In Tide’s case, this meant she was nearly upside down where the wall sloped into the ceiling, but the green clung lightly to the stone face and chirruped nervously at the blue dragon on the ground.

Dew, ducking, swooped and landed on a shelf that Pectolath had been pressed against moments before. His multifaceted eyes whirled orange and red and his wings stayed half-furled, as if he were considering taking off again, but the little bronze squeaked in an almost embarrassed tone and looked quizzically at W’rick.

Fade was the last to settle. After Gale’s flits came to rest Fade swooped over Pectolath’s head (the blue dragon ducked) and landed on W’rick’s arm, which he offered as an alternative to his shirt. Chirping Squall climbed down from W’rick’s head and stood on his shoulder as if scolding his adoptive brother. With a sigh of relief W’rick eyed the two flits and pointed to his bunk. ”Bed. Go to bed.” Squall sprung from his shoulder and Fade followed suit. The silver landed on his pillow while blue Fade perched on the headstand. While all this was going on Pectolath eyed each of the flits in turn, cooing softly. He walked away from the shelf, looking over his shoulder at Dew as W’rick offered his arm to the bronze flit. With the bronze cooperating W’rick removed the note from his leg and unrolled it. Pectolath came around to sit at his feet, gazing intently at the piece of paper. The symbols meant nothing to him though he understood the concept, having seen some of Gale's letters when W'rick moved to the barracks. ”What does it say?”

{Galeia’s letters, while personal in content, usually observed a rather technical format that was not on display on the parchment W’rick unrolled. Though her lettering was still precise, there was no usual introduction, though her closing was the same as always.}

---Winderick, are you alright? I can’t tell you what sorts of things I’ve been hearing since the Hatching. I think the Masters know what’s been going on, but they’ve been too busy talking amongst themselves to share with the apprentices. I sent Murk to watch the hatching, but he came back shrieking about the queen, and after your two cropped up I wasn’t able to get anything straight out of the lot of them. I’ve sent Dew because he wasn’t there and is more sensible than the others. I’ve been looking after your pair by the way. They’ve been cheerful and eating well, and I hope to hear you’re doing at least as well. Please write me back as soon as you get this. Some people are saying Yirath crushed a candidate and I’ve been worried sick.

Until I return, Galeia.

W’rick related the letter to Pectolath as he read it. Pectolath waited patiently until he finished to ask questions. Unfortunately for Gale, the letter would have to wait. After what happened at the hatching feast he wasn’t going to take any chances with Pectolath. He would finish oiling Pectolath first and then, if he had time, he would send a reply. Before going back to work he gathered the attention of Tide, Murk and Mire and persuaded them to go back to harper hall so they wouldn’t cause trouble. They would probably ruin the surprise but if he wanted to finish his letter before his chores he could afford no distractions. By the time he finished oiling Pectolath he knew exactly what he wanted to say. As usual his reply was short and concise:

---Gale, everything is fine. There were no casualties at the hatching except for two unlucky flits. All the dragonets Impressed, including the twins, Sunnath and Keth. Benden is very chaotic at the moment as everyone is either celebrating or mourning. Bronzerider W’lin is taking on Kestril’s responsibilities until Benden can find a new goldrider to take her place. There’s more to tell but I don’t have enough time to explain it all. If you send Dew back at dusk I can write more then.

Your friend, W’rick

{When W’rick returned to his room later in the evening, Dew had already arrived and made himself at home. The firelizard had curled sedately on the end of the new rider’s bed, but woke as noise came to the room and sleepily held out his note-tied limb.}

---You sly imp, keeping me waiting all day after signing with a shortened name. I imagine you’re rather pleased with yourself. Well, I’ll have you know that I am too. Dew has flashed blurry images of blue. His memory will get better as he sees him more frequently, through from what I can tell he’s quite handsome. You have to tell me his name and what he’s like and how you Impressed; skip as little as possible. I’m dying of curiosity, and I’m fiddling with my tunes in an empty practice room so I don’t have anyone bothering me about your response when it comes.

Perfectly ecstatic, Galeia.

{Dew returned almost a half-hour later with a new note tied to his ankle.}

---His name is Pectolath, the brightest blue you’ll ever see. You almost have to squint when the sun strikes his oiled hide. We are a perfect match. We Impressed moments before the Queen snatched up the two unlucky flits. She nearly turned on Bruinth, but somehow her mate convinced her to be still. The whole hatching was like that. No one knew if Yirath could make it through without losing her sanity but somehow she did. When the twins hatched nearly everyone on the hatching grounds started cheering and applauding. Everything between the golds hatching and Yirath’s suicide is a blur. I can’t hope to describe the things I felt that day. Every dragon in Benden sang for her. It was incredible.

Pectolath and I are very similar. I can’t describe him without describing myself. He is more outgoing than me and very protective of me and his clutchmates, too. At the feast one of the riders had some wine and it made her green very distressed. Pectolath was furious about that, but not as much as W’lin. The Weyrleader looked like he was ready to kill the girl himself! They’re both alright now. Some people have already forgiven her. Pectolath is telling me not to be too harsh. Still, I don’t want to get paired with her for flight training. Pectolath wants to know when you’re coming back to Benden. Will we see you soon?

W’rick

---I’m going to miss Yirath and Kestril. It’s strange to imagine them suddenly gone when most of my life Yirath has been flooding the weyr with her eggs, and now I’ve missed her grandest and last clutch, though I’m glad you could be a part of that even if I wasn’t there to watch you Impress. The old watch dragon posted here knew it when the queen died. He sang for her too, so everyone knew when she passed. I think it disturbed the other apprentices here a great deal, since they’re not used to hearing dragons, much less anything so sad sounding. One of the Masters is composing a ballad for the hatching and the queen’s death, but I’m not sure he’ll be able to finish it until Kestril’s killer is found.

That poor girl. If W’lin didn’t terrify her, I’m sure the danger to her dragon did so, and hopefully knocked some sense into her. Pectolath sounds wonderful though, and sensible as well. I look forward to meeting him and seeing the two of you together. I’m hoping I can be back before he starts flying. There’s no way of telling of course, but the apprentices are all guessing that the newest journeymen are due to walk the tables in a few weeks. I’m doing everything I can to improve as quickly as possible. When my throat is raw from singing I play, when my hands are too cramped to pluck a string I practice the drums, and when my shoulders wear out from that I’m studying scrolls on musical theory. I think I’m more than ready, but I’d like to be exceptional by the time the Masters notice it. If I join the Journeymen at the next walk though, I’ll let you know as soon as it happens. I’ve heard things are busy at the weyr and I don’t think my father will be able to come fetch me, but the caravans between the hall and weyr are so regular I should be able to arrive quickly if I can’t badger him into it.

Galeia.

{W’rick knew the feeling. Although Gale certainly knew Yirath and Kestril better than he, even he felt strange knowing he would never see Benden’s Queen again. Yirath and Kestril were familiar sights around the weyr. Part of him still expected Yirath to come back from between with Kestril straddling her great shoulders. Pectolath seemed just as puzzled by these feelings as W’rick, though he admitted he never personally experienced them. Yirath was gone and that was tragic, but more importantly they had a bright future ahead of them. W’rick failed to express these feelings in words. At least Pectolath always seemed to understand, as much as a dragon could.}

---We’re also working hard! Lessons are starting after Kestril and Yirath’s wake but we still have chores every day. I’m glad Squall and Fade are back. They’re nothing but trouble, but they keep my life interesting. Pectolath hasn’t learned to appreciate them yet. Squall annoys him the most. I think Squall wants to add him to his collection. I hope they didn’t give you too much trouble.

By the way, greenrider K’la offered to pick you up after you walk. You remember her, right? Her Yvoth Searched me.

W’rick.

---Fade stayed after Tide, and Murk after him, so they made an impressive spectacle, but they mostly stayed out of the way at any rate, and I think Dew enjoyed throwing his weight around, so it all worked out. As for Pectolath, he may learn to like them. I’ve seen firelizards help scratch off flaking skin after dragons have bathed and soaked for a bit, and they can help oil too.

I’m surprised about that bit of news about K’la, though still very grateful since I don’t think I’ve heard much good about the long trips in caravans. I’ve never really talked with her, but she has a reputation for being wispy in the head. How did you talk her into agreeing to fetch me?

Galeia

---Actually, I mentioned you weren’t here to see me Impress and she offered to fetch you. I don’t actually know her that well. I think she fears for my social life. K’la seems like one of those people who can’t live without attention, not like me at all, but I plan to take her up on the offer as soon as you’re ready. I traveled to Benden Hold from my father’s cothold as a child. It’s horrible and boring.

I need to get to bed. Pectolath is already asleep and all burned out. Write again soon.

W’rick