The Erroneous Eggs Chapter 1
A/N
Ramoth's new clutch includes some unusual eggs that hatch into very unusual dragons. Pern may never be the same. Most of the story takes place shortly after "All the Weyrs of Pern." This is a crossover among Dragonriders of Pern, Inheritance Cycle, Spyro the Dragon, How to Train Your Dragon, Temeraire, The Neverending Story, The Hobbit, and the song "Puff the Magic Dragon." The title is a reference to the classic children's book "The Enormous Egg." Rated T for some adult themes in the second half of the story. Most of the story is K-plus, and the language is all K.
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Ramoth was out of sorts.
All the other dragons of Pern were flying through outer space, helping to place the engines of the three spaceships on the Red Star so that, when they exploded, they would alter the Red Star's orbit and set Pern free from the menace of Thread forever. All the other dragons except her! As badly as she wanted to be part of this great moment in Pern's history, she had an even higher priority: the eggs that were growing inside her. She would take no risks whatsoever while she was in that state. Lessa was also frustrated with the situation; she felt an even stronger need to be part of the world-changing events that were happening just outside the Yokohama. But the imperatives of dragon biology overrode everything else.
They were in the Yokohama's capacious cargo bay. No other space on the ship was big enough for Ramoth, and the great golden dragon had desperately wanted to be as close to the action as possible, even though she could not participate. They watched the small viewing screens and they looked through the windows. Ramoth kept a running dialog with the dragons who were doing the amazing tasks that AIVAS had set before them. They did whatever they could to avoid the feeling that, while all the weyrs of Pern were acting to save the planet, the two of them were doing nothing.
"Ramoth, please keep still!" Lessa pleaded as the huge dragon shifted her position yet again. "This room is barely big enough for you as it is!" But Ramoth was fidgety and could not stay in one position for long. As she shifted her location in zero gravity, her tail swung and accidentally shattered one of the light panels that provided emergency illumination to the huge chamber. That panel was powered by a very small amount of radioactive material, which drifted through the air around the dragon's body. It wasn't enough to do any harm, in terms of radiation sickness or cancer. But unborn eggs are extremely sensitive to radiation. This was a subject that AIVAS had never mentioned to any of the riders, because he saw no need for them to know about it. Lessa saw the tiny metallic pellets floating near Ramoth, but paid them no mind. The first team of dragons and riders was about to depart for the Red Star, and she didn't want to miss that for anything.
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Time passed. It was time for Ramoth to lay her eggs. As usual, she didn't tell Lessa about it until Lessa sought her dragon in their weyr and didn't find her. By the time the Weyrwoman had made her way to the hatching sands, her dragon was surrounded by eggs and was nowhere near finished.
"You do such good work, dear heart!" Lessa smiled. "It would take two or three other gold dragons together to lay a clutch like yours!"
My eggs are a reflection of my love for you.
"You are just the most amazing dragon who ever lived!" She knew that Ramoth would take several days to finish laying her clutch, so there was no reason to stay nearby. These things took time, and they could not be hurried. Still, Lessa felt a certain impatience about the matter. She was always eager to see if her dragon was going to set a new record for the most eggs ever laid in one clutch. She probably already owned the record for the most eggs laid in a lifetime, but the Oldtimers would not share any information about their own queens' egg-laying numbers (probably out of envy), so no one could be sure.
At last, the job was done. Ramoth had laid forty-seven eggs this time, one less than her best ever. The clutch included a queen egg, of course. But it also included seven very odd-looking eggs, which Ramoth had set aside from the others. They were slightly smaller than usual, they were more oblong than a typical dragon egg, and their colors were completely wrong.
"They look like an artist's painting that was left out in the rain while the paint was still wet," F'lar commented.
"He isn't saying anything bad about you, Ramoth!" Lessa added quickly. "Those eggs are just... different."
They will prosper.
"Ramoth doesn't seem to think there's anything wrong with them," she said to her mate.
"How can she tell when they haven't even hardened yet?" F'lar wondered.
"She was right when she said that Ruth would prosper, wasn't she? Somehow, dragons just know these things."
"All right, I'll concede that," F'lar nodded slowly. "But why did she set them aside from the others?"
I set them aside for the same reason that I set the queen egg aside. They are special.
The weeks went by, and the eggs slowly hardened. The day came when the dragons of Benden Weyr began humming, and everyone in the Bowl knew what that meant! The cooks and the kitchen drudges started planning for a huge meal that night, dragons were dispatched to bring the families of the hatching candidates to Benden, and F'lar gave his instructions to the blue riders who were chosen for the special duty of accompanying the newly-hatched dragons and their riders off the Hatching Sands.
"Most of you have done this before," he began, "but all of you must remember your own dragons' hatching! How many of you remember the blue rider who led you and your dragon off the Sands on your own dragon's hatching day?" A handful of them raised their hands. The others just shrugged.
F'lar smiled. "That's how it ought to be. When you've just Impressed a dragon, that dragon is the only thing on your mind, and you forget everything else that's going on around you. Let it be so today. You aren't there to show the candidates how nice you are. You're there as escorts for the new dragon/rider pairs, and if they get to the floor of the Bowl in one piece, but they can't remember your name or your face tomorrow, then you've done your job.
"That job is important. Once a pair has Impressed, you have to move in quickly and get them off the Hatching Sands. We've almost completely eliminated injuries to candidates who step in front of the wrong dragon, and I want to keep it that way. Don't let a candidate and his new dragon stop and make friends if they're in between another new dragon and the rider he wants. Keep them moving! Encourage them, congratulate them, lead them down to ground level, reassure them that there's plenty of meat and oil waiting for them... and accept the fact that you're going to be ignored and forgotten before the sun goes down.
"Another thing: no pushing and shoving! There are forty-seven eggs and forty-eight of you, just in case something unforeseen happens, so there's no reason for two or three of you to try to help the same dragon/rider pair. M'max, I'm putting you in charge of this crew. If you see two blue riders headed for the same candidate, it will be your job to warn one of them off. Likewise, if it looks like a new pair is being ignored, it will be your job to assign a blue rider to them. It's impossible to stay in control of a situation when new dragons are hatching and scrambling all around, but do the best you can."
M'max nodded soberly. He was a middle-aged rider whose blue Pantath was from Nemorth's second-to-last clutch. He was a veteran of many Threadfalls, and he had survived two bad Threadscorings that left him with a scar on his head (which he usually kept covered with a variety of hats) and a permanent limp. He was not known for his sense of humor, but for his sense of duty and responsibility.
"All right, that's about all there is to say," F'lar concluded. "Stay in the background, keep everyone safe, and enjoy the festivities afterwards." The blue riders nodded. One of the perks of this assignment was that they, along with the newly-minted riders, would be among the first to reach the Bowl floor and sample the food that was waiting there. The Weyrleader turned and left the chamber.
"Okay, you heard him," M'max said to the others. "We probably have at least an hour before the first egg hatches, so don't wander off, but don't panic, either. We're not in a hurry." He looked up and down at the others. "C'farr, there's a grease stain on the collar of your tunic! You can't wear that at a Hatching, with Lord Holders and Craftmasters watching you! Fly back to your weyr and change into something clean. I'll save a brown and his rider for you if you're late getting back to the Hatching." C'farr nodded and ran for his blue Analth; he knew that M'max would keep his promise. "Everybody else, get out on the sands! Spread out, don't draw attention to yourselves, and remember to smile at the hatching candidates, whether they Impress or not."
They found places on the Hatching Ground, being sure to give Ramoth a respectful amount of space. She was not being hyper-protective, the way she had been during the hatching right after her queen egg had been stolen and returned. But she was leaning over her eggs and glaring at the spectators, and a dragon that big was very intimidating just by virtue of being there.
Now the candidates were led in, wearing white smocks and wincing as the heat of the hatching sands worked through their thin sandals. They formed a rough circle around the eggs, which were beginning to rock back and forth. The last to enter were the six girls who were candidates for the queen egg. All eyes were on the eggs. The exceptions were those seven odd-looking eggs off to the side. They were motionless, and the hatching candidates ignored them, aside from an occasional curious glance over their shoulders. In the seats above them, several bets were made that the unusual eggs would not hatch.
The humming from the dragons was approaching fever pitch. Several of the eggs were on the verge of rolling over, they were rocking so violently. Suddenly, one of them shattered into a hundred fragments, revealing a wobbly little bronze dragon from within. Everyone smiled and nodded; it was a good sign if a bronze hatched first. He looked in all directions, wobbled around in a half-circle, then made a beeline for an astonished son of a tanner.
"His name is Deliroth!" the boy exclaimed. "Oh, Deliroth, you're beautiful!" He tearfully embraced his newly-found friend.
Two blue riders started toward him; both wanted the honor of escorting the day's first bronze rider. M'max clucked his tongue twice to get their attention. "C'farr, you get this one," he stage-whispered. C'farr nodded and rushed to the new rider's side, leading them toward the ramp that led from the Hatching Ground to the bottom of the Bowl. The other blue rider backed off.
Another egg hatched; this one was a powerful-looking brown. He knew exactly which of the boys was meant to be his lifelong companion, and traced a wobbling but unerring path toward Manora's grandnephew, who ran to meet him halfway. By the time the happy pair had been escorted off the sands by a blue rider, two more eggs had hatched, and another was cracking loudly. M'max was kept very busy for the next twenty minutes, directing blue riders toward new dragon/rider pairs and directing them to the least-crowded route to the exit ramp. He even had to dodge a curious little green who wanted to check him out before realizing he was already taken.
Then the queen egg began showing signs of life, and all the spectators' eyes were on that one big egg, even though the other eggs were still hatching. The occupant of the big egg seemed to consider breaking out from several different angles before the eggshell finally split in four pieces and fell away. She raised her head and looked all around, distracted for a moment by the humming of the bronzes. Then she turned to the six white-clad girls who stood in a semicircle in front of her. They looked slightly nervous, but they didn't quail or run; they tried to make eye contact with the newly-hatched queen. The golden dragon daintily stepped clear of the pieces of her shell, stumbled, and fanned her wings to regain her balance. Then she walked straight toward Annia, a tall, dark-skinned girl from Southern Boll. The other girls slumped as Annia's face lit up.
"Cardith! Oh, your name is Cardith!" Annia had been a last-minute addition to the candidates, and she hadn't thought much of her chances of Impressing the queen. Now, her impossible dream had come true; her days of mending fish nets and caring for other people's toddlers in her father's Hold were over. Tears streamed down her face as she praised her wonderful dragon. In the seats above, Lessa felt a twinge in her heart as she remembered her own first moments with Ramoth.
The last of the rocking eggs had broken open by now. Only two new dragons were still unimpressed, and they found their riders in less than a minute. Two of the remaining blue riders escorted them to the ramp. At this point, it would be time for the green riders to collect the candidates who hadn't been chosen. But those seven unusual eggs were still there, and now one of them was beginning to move. As one, all of the remaining candidates shifted their places to surround those eggs. No one knew what to expect from them. But, after building their hopes up so high, any dragon would be better than no dragon. M'max sidled over to be near them. Those eggs were an unknown quantity, and if something unexpected happened, he wanted to be there to intervene.
The first egg split, and a fine-looking green burst out. Her color was somewhat dark for a newly-hatched dragon, and her exterior was scaly rather than smooth, but the real oddity was her eyes. They were not the multi-faceted orbs of other dragons; they looked more like the eyes of a herdbeast or a runnerbeast. Those eyes fastened onto a small, freckled boy from the Lower Caverns, who fell to his knees to hug the dragon's neck.
"Puff! His name is Puff!" the boy exclaimed as M'max reached his side.
"You mean her name is Puth," the blue rider corrected him. "Greens are female, and dragons' names always end in 'th.' "
"No, sir, he's quite sure that he's a boy. But he says his name is pronounced Puffth, so we're both close."
"Green dragons are female," M'max said stubbornly. He was corrected, to his surprise, by his blue Pantath.
Puffth is a male.
"What? But that's... oh, whatever!" M'max sputtered. "What's your name, young man?"
"Jackipepar," the boy answered.
M'max forced himself to smile. "Well, I think you just became J'par. Congratulations! Now take your new friend and follow this man. He'll take you to where the food is." He gestured toward one of the remaining blue riders, who led J'par and Puffth down the ramp.
Another egg shifted, rocked twice, and shattered. This dragon was a good-looking blue. Again, his color was slightly off, and again, he had scales and eyes unlike the other dragons. This one looked around at the hopeful candidates before choosing a farmer's son from Telgar Weyr.
"Her name is Saphirath!" the boy burst out. "You're the most beautiful dragon ever!"
Thank you for noticing, she told him.
"You mean his name is Saphirath," M'max said firmly. "Blue dragons are something I know about. Blue dragons are male. Always."
The boy stood his ground. "No, sir, her name is Saphirath. She knows who she is."
She is female. Pantath was quite sure.
M'max glanced at his dragon and shook his head. "This is preposterous! Male greens! Female blues! What's going wrong with this hatching? Well, I'm glad for you, young man. What's your name?"
"Arigon," the proud young dragonrider said.
"Hmm. I'm not sure how the dragons will shorten that. We'll let your dragon make that decision. Now, Arigon, follow that blue rider; your dragon is probably hungry, and there's plenty of dragon food at the bottom of the Bowl." The happy rider and dragon left with another blue rider.
Now two of the unusual eggs were rocking, and they both split open within moments of each other. M'max's mouth fell open. If the first two dragons were unusual, then this pair was unbelievable! They both had the scales and the mammalian eyes of the first two, but that was nothing compared to their coloration. One was solid black, with patterns of blue spots around the trailing edges of its wings. The other was black with near-black patterns all over its scales. That one had some other oddities, like a flat, tunnel-snake-like head, ear flaps instead of head knobs, and two broad fins on the end of its tail. Black dragons! This was impossible! If the Oldtimers found out about this...
The first one walked past all the candidates, turned back, and passed them all again before looking into the eyes of Lorelance, the son of a fisherman from Tillek. Wordlessly, the boy fell to his knees, hugging the black dragon's neck. The other dragon hesitantly approached Haruticup, the son of a journeyman Smith who served Telgar Weyr. The boy slowly reached out his hand until it rested on the dragon's nose. They Impressed!
M'max spoke to both boys and found that the dragons were both male. Lorelance, or L'rance, had Impressed Temerairth, while Haruticup, or H'cup, had partnered with Toothleth. M'max got both of them moving toward the ramp, accompanied by two of the few remaining blue riders, and shook his head at the destiny that had put him in charge of the hatching crew for such an unconventional hatching. He hoped with all his heart that Lessa wasn't going to blame him for these impossible dragons.
There were three of the odd eggs left, and they were not moving. Every dragon laid nonviable eggs now and then; it was certainly no reflection on Ramoth. The eleven boys who were left were reluctant to leave. Unusual those eggs might be, but they were also the only chance that these boys might ever have to Impress a dragon. Suddenly one of the eggs lurched, and hope rose again in the hearts of the candidates. The egg rolled over twice, then broke open.
This dragon was even more remarkable-looking. He was purple, with a golden chest, horns, back spines, and something like a stinger on the end of his tail. He nearly leaped out of his shell, eagerly examined all of the candidates, and stopped, looking puzzled.
"Doesn't he like any of us?" one of the boys asked.
"He doesn't see the one he wants," M'max answered. "This has happened twice. The first time, the new rider was a girl in the seats who wasn't even a candidate. The second time, the dragon wanted a boy who was hiding behind the seats. This fellow isn't looking at the seats, though." He tried to follow the dragon's gaze.
F'lar figured it out. "He wants one of the queen-egg candidates!" he bellowed. "Bring those girls back onto the sands, and hurry!" Two bronze riders rushed to obey him; it took a few minutes to find the five disappointed girls and bring them back. As soon as they appeared, the purple dragon bounded over to them, sniffed at two of them, then made eye contact with the third.
"Spyroth?" she exclaimed. "You're beautiful, Spyroth, but why did you pick me?" She knelt to rub the little dragon's eye ridges.
"The dragon always chooses," M'max said as he caught up with them. "Congratulations, umm...?"
"Sinder," she answered.
"Congratulations, Sinder," he went on. "You didn't get the queen dragon, but you Impressed a dragon anyway, so it's still a good day for you. Please follow this blue rider; he'll take you to get some food for your dragon." The happy pair left just as the sixth egg cracked and split open.
There were gasps of shock from the spectators in the seats. What was wrong with that dragon? It didn't look like a dragon at all! Its head resembled a canine more than anything else, with huge eyes and long, floppy ears. It was covered in white fur, not a smooth hide. Almost half its length was in its tail. And it had no wings! Everyone was struck by memories of Ruth's hatching, and how everyone had been convinced that the white dragon would die before reaching maturity. Ruth had survived... but at least he had looked like a dragon. How long could this odd-looking creature endure?
The furry white dragon seemed not to share their worries. He shook himself dry, glanced around, and padded over to a boy from Igen named Atrayou. He introduced himself as Falkorth, and assured his new rider that he was a luck dragon, whatever that meant. M'max had no idea how Atrayou could be shortened, either, but he decided that he had enough worries with these bizarre dragon hatchlings without worrying about their riders' names. As this pair made their way down the ramp, the last egg hatched.
This last hatchling was built like a dragon, at least. His color was as wrong as the others, though; it was a deep red, with black highlights along its back scales and its horns. There was a sense of power with this dragon that had not been present with the others. He didn't charge at the remaining candidates, but stayed where he was, swinging his head from side to side until he made his decision. His chosen partner was Bilbilibbo, a very short boy, the son of a grapevine-farmer from nearby Benden Hold.
"Congratulations, B'ilbo," M'max smiled. "This blue rider will take you and Smaugth down to the Bowl." He watched them go, wiped the sweat off his brow, and asked Pantath to join him and take him down to the party. His work with those freakish dragons was done. He didn't envy the Weyrlingmaster, who would be in charge of those dragons' lives until they reached adulthood (if they lived that long), along with their riders. After the day's events, he urgently needed some wine.