Wubath bugled, speeding towards the bronze wher at top speed. Just when it seemed a crash between the two bronzes was inevitable, the wher vanished.
"Where did he go?!" Fulsa shouted, Telgarsk and Namusk looking around frantically. Wubath roared, and seeing through their watchwher's eyes, the handlers watched the monstrous take a swipe at the dragon, severing the Weyrleader's fighting straps even as Wubath backwinged, and vanished again.
"Namusk! Stay with Minket!" Fulsa ordered, as Telgarsk fought to fly up to meet Wubath, B'ton dangling by one arm to the remaining undamaged riding strap. Wubath whined, trying, and failing, to reach his rider. Telgarsk snorted and sailed directly under, Fulsa grabbing him, and cutting the fighting strap wrapped around his arm free.
Below Namusk screamed and pulled her wings tightly shut, dropping directly atop the bronze wher, raking his back as he popped back out of between. The bronze snarled in surprise and again vanished between.
"Shards- it's figured out how to skip." B'ton shouted over the wind as both Telgarsk and Wubath hurried to land.
"To what?"
"Skip, it's a threadfighting technique to come out directly after a patch of Thread- argh!" He ducked as two firelizards attacked and harried them. Telgarsk huffed and went between.
Namul brought his spear up suddenly, causing Minket to shrink down more against the runner as the bronze wher appeared a mere head above them. The iron harpoon spear bit deep into the wher's wing joint.
With a shriek that physically knocked the runner over the wher vanished once more, and this time, he didn't reappear.
Coming out from between, Telgarsk landed downwind of the scattered procession, B'ton vaulting off the blue watchwher with a grunt. Wubath landed, and peered at him, his eyes still more white than yellow as he touched the man's shoulder delicately.
"Yes, yes, I know, but we have to catch-"
They are gone, we will not catch the cruel man now. Wubath told him firmly. You are hurting. You need a healer. Wubath turned and looked off in the distance where Namul was helping the Ladyholder away from her fallen runner. So does Namusk's man. And the Ladyholder.
Char had been liberally dosed with fellis and laid insensible to the world as Zandur and Cici went about the tricky process of setting the multiple break. They worked in tense silence, every fingerlength of the unoccupied weyr was red from a thorough application of redwort, the closest the Weyr could come to a sterile room. Both healers were swathed in boiled cotton from their surgery slippers to the tops of their heads, only their eyes and hands unencumbered. Their hands too were stained a deep red, having soaked in the antiseptic for the count of fifteen heartbeats.
Anyone else and they would have been able to do the surgery that laid the bluerider's right leg open in the proper surgery theater, with healer students watching from behind the thick glass walls of the science lab of Harper Hall. But to go between now, with both Weyrling and dragonet mind locked would surely kill them. Infection still might, they both recognized that, as they raced time, for the longer the bone was exposed the higher the chance for the bone to dry out and the cells die, wiring shattered bone back together. The femur had broken in three places, the lengthwise fracture only discovered once they had opened the leg up.
Mirrth had flown to Igen, where retired Master Veka, the long time surgery professor for Healer Hall conferred via draconic mind-speech with the two healers. Metal pins of the rare material the Smiths crafted specifically for internal surgical use were carefully installed in rough intervals, holding the split bone together as the full breaks were carefully aligned, and pulled away flesh was put back in place, and sutured shut. The surgery started before the Wings rose to fly Fall, and was still underway when crossover was called.
B'ton, nursing his wretched shoulder with ill-concealed grumpiness, spared a thought for the injured bluerider as he helped Valtree with the newest batch of dragonriders. Wubath, taking the watch dragon's perch reported to him both the progress of the surgery, which he could see from his vaunted placement, and the Wings.
L'stur lead this Fall, much to the surprise of everyone except perhaps B'ton and Jurille. When the sweeprider report the weather -windstorm- Dr'jia, B'ton's wingsecond raced from his bath to beg off the responsibility of leading Fall. B'ton, at the time consulting with Jurille about last-minute details for things he could do during the Fall, confined to the ground as he was, replied to the wet, naked brownrider with a raised eyebrow.
"Don't worry, L'stur's leading Fall." Jurille said with a tone of finality that L'stur, striding over to join them, stopped and actually took a surprised step back.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you." Dr'jia grabbed the older bronzerider's hand and pumped it in almost hysterical relief.
"You're welcome?" L'stur replied weakly as B'ton and Jurille exchanged bemused smiles.
L'stur had taken B'ton's place in his Wing, his own wingsecond leading his Wing of mostly greens, and lead the Flight aloft.
The surgery is over. Wubath announced suddenly, more than an hour after the changeover. He glided from the watch perch over to the west facing weyr, and laid flat so that Cici might mount him. Zandur staid with his charge, stripping out of his operating costume and fanning himself in the late afternoon heat.
B'ton met Cici as Wubath landed with considered grace.
"Thank you Wubath," Cici absently pat the bronze's forearm, having divested a goodly portion of the cotton over garment on the trip down.
"May I inquire how she is?" B'ton asked, knowing there was no way the Masterhealer missed the seven badly injured dragonpairs already receiving treatment from the Weyrfolk.
"Your rider will walk again, provided infection doesn't set in." Cici replied, washing her hands in the bucket a weyrling brought her. "She's young and healthy, she should be up and running around by spring. What I can't speak to is how being mind-locked with her dragon for this long is going to effect her." She explained, patting her hands dry on an offered towel.
"We'll take care of that, no worries." B'ton replied with more bravado than he felt. Mind-lock happened to dragonpairs during Threadfall, or mating flights, and even then the actual 'locking' period was very short in duration - that the dragonpair had been mind locked for almost an entire day was unheard of in the Archives, according to Jurille.
"Then I leave her in good hands. Now, point me in the direction of the numbweed and I'll help you with your grounded Wings."
Hello all! If you see any grammatical or spelling errors please let me know ASAP. I know Anne never delved into mind-lock, but really, it's the 800 pound tunnel snake in the room. I'll address the issue next chapter.