Sky Dragons

EPILOGUE Eight Months Later

Xhinna looked down at the sight arrayed below her. The sky was full of dragons. All six Western Weyrs had gathered here at Sky Weyr for the last time.

A white line on the sleeve of her wher-hide jacket distracted her and she moved her arm so she could, once again, count the twenty white lines—well, only ten on that arm; there were another ten on the other sleeve—that each marked a Fall flown by her and the Sky dragons.

Twenty Falls. Two casualties. And no burrows.

Cliova had joined Danirry in the Sky Weyr roll of honor after she and her green Bemorth had succumbed to the altitude sickness at a moment when the catchers had been busy elsewhere. Like Danirry before her, tragically, her absence had not been noted until it was too late. Her death had caused Xhinna to change her tactics—much to her personal annoyance even though to the relief of others—and now the wingleaders all flew with the catcher dragons, maintaining constant alert. Since then there had been no other losses.

Cliova’s Bemorth had had a clutch on the sands, and her eighteen hatchlings were among the ninety-six others greeted fervently at the last Hatching of Sky Weyr.

The hatchlings and their weyrlings were all gone now, having been transported to Igen Weyr for eventual distribution to their “proper” Weyrs.

Even so, Xhinna was in the presence of over two thousand dragons, more than half of whom were ready and able, and blooded in the fight against Thread.

Jirana says: “You did it,” Tazith relayed to her.

Xhinna shook her head firmly. She sought out and found the queen and her rider, nestled proudly in the great wings of the queen dragons that were arrayed below her.

Tell her, WE did it.

K’dan says for you to give the signal, Tazith relayed as he bugled triumphantly.

Me?

Lorana has given us the image, the blue dragon added, sensing the growing rebellion in his rider. Are we ready?

Behind her, Seban chuckled, having observed her and been the recipient of her dragon’s thoughts. “He’s twitting you and he’s right,” the ex-dragonrider shouted in her ear. He waved a hand down at the thousands of dragons below them. “It’s your right—you’ve earned it, dragonrider.”

Xhinna groaned, then joined in the ex-dragonrider’s bellow of laughter.

You’d think, Xhinna mused, that by now I’d learn to give in gracefully.

Never, Tazith replied.

Very well, Xhinna said, taking one last, long, wistful look at the broom trees and the Weyr that had given them life. Let’s go.

As one, on her command, the dragons of the Western Isle blinked out between to return, triumphant, to the fight to save Pern.