Disclaimer: I don't own Pern. Never have done. If I did, then I'd be significantly richer, reocgnised as a mastermind by all, and approaching my mid-eighties...

Chapter Four

...

Ten.

In the sky above Benden Weyr, a gigantic shadow hurtled out of between. With an unconscious Ronan clasped to her cavernous chest, Kiroth spread her suddenly leaden wings and tried to beat upwards. Her desperate, heart-rending roar for help split the air as explosively as her entrance from between.

And help came. Dragons were suddenly spiraling from the ground, and she was vaguely aware of human voices calling out to her. The creatures beneath her were struggling to support her as she and Ronan plummeted towards the ground, but their efforts did not seem to be enough to stay the pair's rapid descent towards the ground. Her wings collapsed, causing an even greater weight on the greens, bronzes, browns, and blues who, united, were labouring to help. Suddenly she was aware of golden flashes to her right and left, whose size, although not comparable to her own, was much larger than that of their lesser kin.

Ramoth!

I am helping, Lessa, a voice said grimly. My daughters and I will stop the descent.

Kiroth's memory of the next few moments was filled with flashes of vibrant colour, and a feeling of foreboding as they neared the ground.

Get out of the way! she snapped, suddenly. Dragonkin will be killed otherwise! At so commanding a tone, many of the lesser dragons obeyed. It was only as the dizzying ground grew ever closer that Ramoth and the other queens did so as well, allowing the dragoness to spread once more her gigantic wingspan in an awe-inspiring effort to slow herself. In the blink of a moment, Kiroth felt the intense agony of the tendons that connected to her shoulder muscles as they strained and tore, and bellowed long and loud as she crashed to the ground, and lay still.

Blackness threatened to claim her. Shuddering between consciousness and the beckoning arms of relief, Kiroth stayed awake long enough to assure that her tiny human was still in the grip of her claw, and was alive. She nuzzled him wearily, with a muzzle similar in length to a young sapling, and allowed her heavy head to thud with a resounding crack against the unforgiving ground.

"But the boy is bleeding, Lessa! I've got to get to him!" The belligerent voice buzzed unpleasantly in Ronan's ears, but it was as though the voices crept to his ears from far away. The five-Turn-old allowed his heavy eyelids to creak open, and blinked blearily at the woman who was making the noise through the giant talons that caged him.

"Mirrim," came the exasperated answer, "you know we can't get past her claws. She won't open them to allow us to get to the child!"

The crowd shuffled uneasily. "Largest queen I ever saw," came the hushed proclamation.

"Largest dragon I ever saw," muttered another.

Ronan suddenly realised that his foot was still hurting, and began to wail. Kee-roff wakey wakey, he sobbed, his mental tone anguished. My foot hurts - hurt hurt hurt. His tears made paths in the grime and blood on his face. His big brown eyes were bloodshot and utterly exhausted. Sleepy, he slurred suddenly. Lessa was immediately alert. There was a commotion as they realised he was slipping into unconsciousness, but more importantly, Kiroth began to stir. When she saw the circle of dragons, men, women and children, all crowding around curiously, she gave a great snarl. So, her offspring had betrayed her, to associate with humans. It was odd, though, that she did not recognise them.

One of the humans stepped forward. Her hands were by her sides.

We need to get to the boy, she said softly. Her unmanageable greying hair was struggling to escape from a hasty bun, and her height was diminutive. The small female was hardly a worthy opponent and it would be the work of a moment to shut her up and shunt her into her cavernous belly. Kiroth struggled to get upright. When some of the other dragons moved to help her, they were relieved of the notion by the deafening roar of anger that she let roll from her jaws. Kiroth snorted in satisfaction when they moved back. Wise.

I think not, she replied caustically in answer to the human's statement. Her motions revealed the deep wounds in her belly and sides, and the jagged rent in her haunch. Lessa gasped. As did the others. The biggest queen of the Others bugled in consternation.

"Who did this to you?" the woman asked. Her tone was hesitant - broken at the sight of the bloody lacerations that ripped at the gargantuan queen's wings like cobwebs. Kiroth's eyes bled crimson.

Who? WHO? You dare to ask me that, when you pathetic creatures have been killing my kind since my birth? You, who hunted and killed us, and were so terrified of something new? Her mouth drew back in a contemptuous growl. How can you even ask that question?

Ronan had stopped moving. Kiroth was suddenly aware that his ragged breathing was becoming ever shallower, and was also attentive to the leaden weariness that seemed to permeate her bones, trying to drag her into oblivion. Other concerns were swept aside as Kiroth gently opened her claws and lowered her charge to the ground.

"What are you talking about?" enquired a man, whose protective stance behind the woman marked him as her mate. He moved forward now, alarm in a blue gaze surrounded by the vestiges of age.

Mnementh, what is she talking about? he asked desperately. Kiroth was alarmed when one of the bronzes answered him.

I don't know.

Ramoth? the woman prompted. The biggest queen of the Others was nonplussed.

I do not know this queen. I don't think she is one of my daughters. There was a pregnant pause, and then the queen continued, She is too big.

I should imagine so, Kiroth said. There was a harsh, mistrustful edge to her voice. In that moment, her whirling amber eyes lifted to the horizon, and she suddenly realized that it was sunset. The clouds streaked the sky in a mêlée of riotous orange and crimson. A different time? But how long? She had had no particular place in mind as she ventured between. For a dragon, it took endless amounts of concentration to secure a place in their estimates. Time-leaps were out of the question, or at least, for the younger dragons. It had taken her Turns to master it, and even then, it was only very short jumps of a day or so.

I timed it, she realised. The phrase seemed inexplicably familiar, although she hadn't used it before. Would it explain this devastating lethargy?

How far? the woman ventured, with recognition in her eyes.

You know about this? Kiroth demanded.

I was the first to time it, Lessa said smugly. Ramoth and I jumped five hundred Turns into the past.

Five hundred? Counting words were beyond her comprehension as a dragon, but it still bespoke a huge passage of time. Kiroth's mind was whirling, but her attention was claimed by Ronan's unnatural stillness. She could smell the weakness in his body like some foul disease, cloying in her nostrils with a scent that was as alarming as it was sweet. It was the smell of death. With chilling clarity, Kiroth realised that he was likely to die without some sort of healing - and that it was far beyond the effort of dragonkind. The belligerent human female whose tone had buzzed uncomfortably around her head stepped forward once more.

"I need to get to the boy," she said firmly.

"Mirrim," Lessa warned as the healer inched towards the irate dragon and her charge. "I don't know that she's safe."

Safe? The concept amused Kiroth slightly. Mirrim continued to move closer, only to flinch abruptly when the dragon's mighty jaws snapped close to her head. In an instant, Ramoth was curling her own head around the human, teeth bared in a snarl more dazzling than any other creature on Pern possessed.

Naranth, get behind me, the dragon - was she Ramoth? Kiroth wondered - ordered, but then the injured dragon stopped still, her neck suddenly taut in supporting her great head, which was cocked to the side.

Naranth? There was a wild look in Kiroth's eyes, shadowed with the amber of suspicion and fear. M-mother? Kiroth shifted uncomfortably, her eyes still wide and her golden hide trembling. Disbelief was etched into every line of her body as her seven eyelids finally came to close. But I killed you, in the Bloodbath...

Sorry it's taken so long to update. Hope this (rather short) chapter didn't disappoint. Review, please!