Three months later…
Elienya sat at a table in the Junior Weyrwoman's Weyr and oiled a leather riding harness. Normally, Healer apprentices weren't allowed in the queen's expansive quarters, but as Cesrik's best friend, Elienya had been given special permission. Everything had changed since she'd apprenticed herself to Masterhealer Jesslyn. People stopped looking down on her with disdain and starting treating her with mild respect. She'd learned to splint broken bones, stitch open wounds, and treat infected cuts. She'd learned how to mix poultices and gather herbs for medicinal purposes. There was always something new for her to learn, and it kept her mind sharp.
Although in her heart she longed to be a queenrider, she'd learned to be content with what she had. Zareth slept in the adjoining cavern, having grown thrice her size since her hatching, and Elienya listened to the soft, steady sound of her breathing. At first, she hadn't been able to be around the little queen without crying, but now she could tolerate Zareth's presence.
A few minutes later, Cesrik burst into the Weyr, her face flushed with anger. "Those wherry brained idiots," she seethed. "How many times do I have to show those dimglows the sharding records!"
Elienya set aside the riding harness. "How did it go?" she asked sarcastically.
Cesrik, a straightforward girl who sometimes missed Elienya's wry humor, said, "Horribly. Those idiots are more concerned with the rebels than with the possibility of Thread." She let out an exasperated breath and played with her bangs. "There's been another attack on a tithe train, and I admit, it's worse than I thought. If things continue in this fashion, we won't have enough food to last us through this winter."
Surprise riled Elienya. She hadn't realized it was quite that bad, either, but Cesrik had the duty of leaning to managing the lower caverns and instructing the Headwoman, as Junior Weyrwoman, and she would know such things.
"I see the concern. What do they plan to do?"
Cesrik scowled. "They want to send an emissary to the rebels to negotiate peace."
"Peace? I don't know about that," said Elienya. "Why are they attacking in the first place? I doubt it's peace they're after. If they wanted something from us, they would've said so by now."
"I had the same thought," grumbled Cesrik. She continued to pace, one hand on her hip.
Elienya cocked her head to the side. "Something else happened. What is it?"
Cesrik cast her a begrudging look. "Sometimes I hate how perceptive you are." She sighed and threw herself into the chair beside Elienya. "They told me to stop letting myself be influenced by a drudge," she nearly shouted. "You're not a drudge, you're a Healer's apprentice! Besides, what does it matter if you're a drudge or an apprentice? Those records are irrefutable proof that Thread exists, that it will fall, but those fools refuse to see that." After their initial conversation, Elienya had shown Cesrik all the records she'd found on Thread, dragons, and Pern, and Cesrik had become a staunch believer in the inevitability of Thread.
"The Harper song even says, The Finger points at an eye blood red, Alert the Weyrs to sear the Thread.' Well, the Red Star is nearly bracketed by the stone!"
"We'll find a way to get through to them," said Elienya.
Cesrik threw up her hands in frustration. "What else can we do? We're running out of time."
Elienya turned and gazed towards Zareth's Weyr. In truth, she didn't have an answer. In all the time she'd imagined herself preparing the Weyr for Thread, she'd been the one to ride a queen dragon into battle. What could a Healer's apprentice due to prepare a Weyr for Thread? How could she assist the Junior Weyrwoman in the task? Closing her eyes, Elienya tried to imagine herself as the Junior Weyrwoman. If she had the power, what would she do with it?
"We need to take matters into our own hands," she said. "We need to see if there are supporter in the Weyr, and we need to reach out to the other Weyrs. Perhaps one of the other Weyrleaders or Weyrwomen will listen to us."
She opened her eyes to see Cesrik's dubious look. "How would we do that? Zareth isn't old enough to fly."
"What about C'net?" she asked, referring to Cesrik's most recent bronzerider lover.
Cesrik dismissed the idea with a flick of her wrist. "Weyr politics won't allow it. If I visit another Weyr without permission, or without an invitation, it'll be seen as a threat to the other Queenriders."
Elienya sighed. She hadn't considered that. "What if we hold a Gather?"
Cesrik's eyes gleamed. "Oh, now that's positively delightful! What an innocent way to gather all of the Weyrleaders and Weyrwoman in one place." Cesrik tapped a hand to her plump finger and smiled. "I think that'll work. I'll suggest it to Weyrleader V'neren tonight."
"Splendid. Do you want me to call the others?"
"There's no need," said Cesrik. "I had Zareth reach out to Certh and Lopith." As if the names of their dragons had been a summons, Eryn and Pennoly appeared at the threshold to the queen's weyr.
Eryn hurried inside with a broad smile. "Elienya! It's good to see you." She drew Elienya into a shy hug, but bumped the riding harness with her hip and sent it crashing to the ground. With a squeak of surprise, she bent hurriedly to pick it up and place it back on the table with a sheepish grin, causing Elienya to smile. Impressing Certh had given her more confidence in herself, and taken away most of her fear, though she remained a quiet thing.
Pennoly grunted in greeting and folded her arms across her chest. "What's this about?" Elienya regarded the other girl fondly. Although her outward disposition hadn't much changed, Lopith's constant adoration had softened Pennoly considerably.
"We have news," said Cesrik. She explained the outcome of the Weyr Council, which had Pennoly scowling and Eryn bobbing her head in understanding. After showing them the same records she'd shown Cesrik, Eryn had reluctantly agreed Thread might fall, while Pennoly said, with her usual tact, "I'll put up with this madness for the sake of friendship."
"Oh, a Gather," squeaked Eryn. "I'd love to attend a Gather! I could invite my family!"
"It's more important than that, Eryn," said Pennoly. "There are politics involved."
Eryn frowned. "What do you mean?"
"In essence," said Pennoly with a questioning glance at Elienya. "You want to woo the other Weyrleaders and Weyrwomen to your side. You're going against V'neren."
"I suppose that's one way of putting it," said Elienya, and Cesrik nodded.
"It won't work," said Pennoly, ever the pessimist. "Why would the leaders of a Weyr listen to a Junior Weyrwoman with no authority—" She gestured to Zareth's weyr. "—and a healer's apprentice?"
Although Elienya didn't want to admit it, she had a good point. "We have the records."
"Records proving Thread fell in the past, not that they'll fall in the future," she pointed out. Eryn made a small noise and nodded, fiddling with the riding straps she'd knocked to the floor.
Elienya and Cesrik shared a look. Once again, she had a point. Although it came across rather harshly, Elienya knew Pennoly was trying to help in her own twisted way – she asked the questions as hypotheticals to strengthen their plan, not to demoralize them.
"It's the best we have," said Cesrik.
"We should explore the lower caverns," said Elienya, "and see if we can find anything else."
"Between Weyrling chores and dragon maintenance?" said Pennoly. "We won't have anytime."
Elienya sighed. "I'll do it. I should find time between my apprentice hours in the Healer Hall."
"Good!" Cesrik clapped her hands and rose with a grin, looking fresher than she had after her bout with the Weyr Council. "Then let's eat, I'm starving." The girls walked to the kitchen together, chatting all the while about their dragons and Weyrling gossip. Elienya listened with a polite smile and ignored the envy burrowing into her heart. Apparently, someone had stumbled in on Cesrik and C'net, which meant Cesrik's secret had been exposed to the entire junior Weyrling class. Even though Weyrlings weren't allowed to be intimate, Cesrik had broken that rule at least a dozen time in her short time as Junior Weyrwoman. She'd been punished with latrine duty, a far more lenient punishment than she'd expected.
However, it had bolstered the confidence of the other Weyrlings, and Cesrik herself knew of more than a few trysts. Eryn had her eye on a cute brownrider, but Pennoly feigned indifference to all their charms. The girls had a lunch of sliced wherry meat, tubers, and sweet buns, and by the time it concluded their dragons had awoken with ravenous hunger. After bidding Elienya farewell they left, leaving Elienya to nurse a cup of klah and weigh her options for the day. She'd be able to sneak out between her lessons and dinner to explore the lower caverns. Should she take someone with her, in the event she became lost? No, if she did, she could reach out to one of the dragons and let them know of her predicament.
A handsome boy wearing the blue of a harper sat at her side with a cup of klah, jostling her elbow. "Hello," he said. "I heard you like Thread."
Elienya stared at him. It was the strangest greeting she'd ever heard in her entire life. "Yes?" She studied him more closely. He had straight auburn hair and bright green eyes, with a slight cleft in his chin and a thin, straight nose. He reminded her of someone Cesrik would try and lure into her bed.
"Might I ask why?"
Elienya's eyes narrowed. "You're a—" She looked at his shoulder knots. "—Journeyman Harper. SHouldn't you know your own teaching ballads?"
"Those are fun songs we teach to the kids," he said, "not proof of Thread's existence."
"Why do you care, then?" she asked, a challenge in her voice.
He flashed her a charming smile. "I remember you from the previous hatching," he said. "I was Searched from the Harper Hall at Bitra, and I decided to stay on as a Weyrsinger apprentice when I didn't Impress. I remember the way you saved us from the rebel attack by taking us to the lower caverns. It was very impressive, might I add. Thank you for your assistance." And, to her surprise, he lifted her hands and brushed his lips across her knuckles in a chaste kiss.
Elienya jerked her hand away. "You're welcome."
"If I recall correctly," he said with a sly grin. "You found something in the cavern we entered. I wondered if it might be related to Thread?"
"Once again," said Elienya, "I fail to understand your interest in the matter."
"As a Harper, I'm a storyteller, my lady," he said, "and I have the feeling you have a very interesting story to tell."
Elienya cocked her head to the side, considering. What could it hurt to show him the records? If she wanted to "woo people to her side," she might as well start with this charming Journeyman Harper.
"I'm Elienya of Benden Weyr," she said, and extended her hand.
"Deilen," he said, "of Bitra." After she'd finished her klah, Elienya showed him to her room in the lower caverns and showed him the records. Deilen poured over them with apparent interest, his green eyes skimming the page. He rubbed his chin, where faint stubble grew.
"Well?" asked Elienya.
"Interesting," he said. "Very interesting. I believed Thread to be a myth, but I suppose this prove it existed at one point."
"At one point? It will fall again."
"There's no proof of that," said Deilen, bringing up Pennoly's point from earlier.
"I'll find proof," she said.
"How do you plan to do that?"
"I'm going to search the lower caverns for more hidden rooms."
Deilen leapt to his feet with a grin. "Might I join you? It sounds like a worthy adventure for a storyteller!"
Elienye tried not to roll her eyes. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."
