[Disclaimer. I own only characters. Pern and all associated characters and places remain the property of Anne McCaffrey.]

"Please let me have you. Please, please, please."

Danil's whispering drew a smirk from several of the other candidates standing nearby. He resented that. As if they weren't all thinking the same thing. They all thought they'd be luckier just because they didn't say it. Let him fail at least before they thought themselves in a position to look down on him. Moreover, let them succeed first.

He ignored them, staring intently at one particular egg a half dragon-length away from where the candidates had assembled for the Hatching. It had a big pattern splashed all over one side which looked like a dragon's face if you looked directly at it. Smorn, a shy and worried looking candidate of twelve turns with whom Danil had become acquainted, had warned him against becoming attached to one egg. What if it narrowed your chances?

Thinking about Smorn cast a shadow of worry over Danil's fragile optimism. A boy Smorn's age would not have been eligible to stand even three turns ago, with the last Hatching here at Ista. Due to a shortage of eligible older boys in the area, for many had all been Searched to other weyrs, younger boys from the surrounding holds had been put forward instead. The Pass was almost over as well. The urgency of weyrling training had diminished. It might be better as well during an Interval to have dragonriders who would live longer; he had heard some of the dragonriders discussing it at dinner the previous night.

What if his sixteen turns counted against him now? Clutches grew smaller and occurred further apart at the end of a Pass and during an interval. Dragons knew things; they might concur with the dragonriders, even as they hatched. Overhearing various snippets of dragonlore over the past three days had put many doubts into his mind. Everything suddenly seemed against him. Weyrbred youths who had spent several hours every sevenday with the eggs since they hatched were surely in better stead than he was. Just about every youth in the weyr seemed to be eligible.

He tried to comfort himself with the numbers. Twenty-nine eggs between thirty-five candidates. There were also two golden eggs which he discounted from the number, as well as the eight girls who were eligible. It had seemed like the odds were with him.

It had felt like such an achievement to be Searched. The blue rider who had suddenly dropped out of the sky to inspect him as he mended a net, minding his own business. The blue dragon had been so interested, sniffing him and prodding at his shoulders to such an extent he had nearly fallen backwards, that he had felt special. Now he couldn't help but wonder that perhaps the dragon was just desperate to bring at least one candidate home and had been following a false trail.

His family had been pleased. They had dropped everything today to be here to watch him impress. He couldn't see them from where he was standing, but he knew that his mother, three sisters and two younger brothers were eagerly watching in the stands. Not his father or his eldest brother, but someone had to collect in the baskets that caught the rich crustaceans which were the major tradepiece of their small fish hold. He wished it were catch day instead. No way would even his exploits on the Hatching Ground interfere with the gutting, the cleaning and the packing which needed the whole family's involvement.

Their presence there now was mortifying. Their pleasure at his Impression would be incomparable to their disappointment if he failed. The pressure was intense; it felt like even more bad luck mounting against him.

For sure he was his own worst enemy, he suddenly realised. So many negative thoughts were crowding his head, he'd actually tuned out the dragons' humming, which he realised had crescendoed to an almost unbearable level. It would happen soon and it would be just his luck to perhaps put off the one dragon who might show the slightest interest in him.

The weyrling master signalled for them to move forward. The queen had lowered her massive head towards a large egg on the periphery of the clutch, which rocked with great urgency and her throat bulged with her soprano hum. It was about to begin.

*

As the boys hot-footed it towards the array of duller coloured eggs, the weyrling master held back one or two of the girls who made to follow them. Luru smiled good-naturedly at them. They were so nervous.

"Follow me girls." H'nas, the weyrling master, beckoned them to follow him towards the dais, where the two queen eggs were arranged. The girls fell into step behind him. Luru was grateful for her thick soles as she moved off with the group. Her elder sister, Lexir, had abandoned her boots as soon as she arrived in the Weyr, preferring the thin sandals their mother had packed for them. Ista was no warmer than the beast hold which was their home but their mother had packed them anyway. They did seem to be what many of the weyrfolk wore, although less so the dragon riders. Still, most of the candidates had worn them. Luru suspected her sister's choice of footwear stemmed as much from a need to fit in as anything. They had only arrived last night. Even so, Lexir had managed to aim dismissive sneers at Luru's leather clad ankles at no less than six opportunities.

Luru had received a "quick word" with their mother before they left.

"Please don't argue with her," she'd implored her younger daughter. "Don't disgrace yourself. Be gracious if she impresses and you don't." It had been a very quick word. Luru's eyes had filled with tears and she'd fled so that they might dry before the Search riders noticed something. What words had her sister received?

None, Luru thought now, that had made any particular impression on Lexir. Lexir pushed in front of her as they moved towards the eggs, apparently ignoring the burning she truly must be feeling in her feet by now. Her strides exuded confidence as she pulled ahead of Luru. Determinedly, Luru moved to walk alongside her. She wouldn't be made to feel inferior. They were all equals on the sands.

Lexir only smirked.

As she caught up, Luru was abruptly brought up short by H'nas as they came within a quarter-dragon length of the eggs.

"Form a circle," he told them. As soon as the girls had followed his instructions, he spoke again, loudly over the dragon's humming.

"I have said this before, but for benefit of those lately arrived I will repeat it. Don't look at the eggs, look at me." He said this sharply to a girl who was staring wide-eyed at the golden shells with her mouth hanging open in awe. She quickly paid her attention to H'nas, who went on.

"They won't hatch for some time, not before at least half the duller eggs have hatched and made Impression. When they do crack, you are not to move. Two queen hatchlings at once creates a very volatile situation. If the queens become confused by your movement, they could fight, believing there is some kind of competition for Impression. There is a record which describes this. One of the queens failed to make Impression and suicided. The other queen was badly injured and the Impression was quite an unstable one." H'nas paused. He had every girl's attention; even Lexir had stopped rolling her eyes.

"Let the queen come to you," he said softly. "There is no real competition. Queens know whom they want. They're just protective of their riders."

Luru smiled suddenly. Though she was suitably solemn after H'nas's grave warning, she was also filled with hope. Even the nasty comments Lexir had made the night before – "They only took you because they're desperate for numbers" – lacked any power to deflate her optimism now. A queen would find her if she wanted her. This wasn't a contest that Lexir could win or fight her sister for. Now H'nas had prohibited it, Lexir couldn't even try to block her or push in front like she had before.

There was a collective murmur from the crowd and Luru realised the humming had reached an apogee. A dragon had been born.