Luru fidgeted as she waited for the Weyrleaders to arrive. She had been summoned to come to the meeting rooms at Ista Weyr that morning after two days in which no one had said a word to her. Luru had narrowly avoided any further interrogation or reprimand by the Weyrwoman after the realisation of Irith's death had dawned on every dragonrider in Ista Weyr, but her borrowed time had no expired.

As she waited, the scene kept flashing before her eyes. As the Weyrwoman, the healers and every proximate rider ran to support the now dragon-less Lexir, she had been pushed aside. She had watched Lexir keenly nevertheless and had been appalled by what she saw. Her face bore no evidence of the pain that went soul-deep in dragonriders. The trace of a triumphant smirk had slithered over her face as she looked right at Luru.

Lexir had been bundled off into the Weyr and apparently dosed with Felis. She was in shock, the weyrfolk said.

Dragons who could fly had collected their riders and swept up to the high weyrs. After the flurry of wings and human activity in the Bowl had cleared, only the most injured dragons and their healer teams remained as small clusters of movement. The weyrlings who had been in attendance of the dragonriders on the floor were dotted about like dropped tools. H'nas had collected them together and encouraged them to go back to their weyrmates.

Luru had responded to Daruwinth's pleas for her safe return and she had gone with the rest of them. None of them had deigned to speak a word in her presence ever since.

Grief had hung in the air for two days like a mist. Luru was not exempt from this feeling but she had known that she would be called to account for her behaviour eventually. Instead of the slightly mechanical and scheduled motions that the rest of the weyrling class adopted to the more menial tasks associated with caring for dragonets, Luru approached each task with brusque efficiency. She had attempted to remain inconspicuous, making sure that she was a step ahead of every task. She cut the first gobbets from the carcasses, Daruwinth's feeding completed before the other dragons were even hungry. She had poured the oil into the trough herself rather than waiting for anyone to do it for her. Weyrling classes seemed to have been adjourned for the last two days and by eating only the bread, soup and porridge that was available at all hours, she had avoided all but the minimum of required contact with other riders.

That morning she had been up with the dawn to feed and oil Daruwinth. As soon as she was fed and clean Luru had been about to take her dragon back toward the barracks when the headwoman had appeared with a message on a folded piece of hide which she delivered to Luru with no more conversation than the written summons demanded.

The message had told Luru to attend a counsel between herself and the Weyrleaders as soon as she had finished oiling and feeding her dragon. The tone of the message was curt and something about the way the headwoman looked meaningfully at her as she began to hurry Daruwinth toward the barracks had made her think again. Telling Daruwinth to settle for a nap on the shingle, Luru had left immediately. She had seen the other weyrlings trooping along toward the lake as she left, their full bellies swinging.

It was a drudge who escorted her towards the meeting rooms. He was the only person she had yet encountered who seemed unaware of her disgrace. The journey through the long, glow-lit tunnels had reminded her painfully of Lemba. He had gone, that much she had been able to gather.

The meeting room had no tapestries on the wall. Just a round table with chairs for where Weryleaders, Craft Masters and Lord Holders convened to discuss the fate of Pern. It was a windowless room, but there were two entrances. The meeting room was also quite cold and the drudge opened only a single glow to light the room for her. Luru hadn't dared to open anymore, even though close to an hour had gone by and still there was no sign of the Weyrleaders.

Luru fidgeted out of nervousness and anxiety that the memories were dragging up. Boredom was becoming a part as well now though. Daruwinth was asleep and although Luru knew dragons dreamed, they seemed to be beyond the limits of the Luru's observance.

Luru was picking at the dirt underneath her fingernails when the door behind her cracked open and the Weyrleaders walked in. Luru pulled her hands apart quickly and rose as they rounded the table to sit opposite her, by the alternative exit.

The Weyrleader - who had toasted her with such aplomb the other night - did not look at her, unlike Miley who glared through the gloom at Luru.

"Did it not occur to you to turn a few glows?"

Luru flinched at the ice in the Weyrwoman's tone. It was one of those horrible situations where she knew she couldn't do right for doing wrong. There was bait in that tone as well, with Maeli trying to make Luru flustered and fuss about trying to open another glowbasket, which would then probably give the Weyrwoman an excuse to fling further criticism her way and snap at her to sit down.

"I'm sorry Weyrwoman." Luru remained standing but did not move.

Maeli didn't miss a beat. "Well turn some girl, I'm not going to conduct a meeting in the dark."

Luru obeyed, her feet filling with leaden reluctance as she moved around the room towards the Weyrleaders to turn the other four glowbaskets. She felt the graze of knives in the air as she passed them both.

She returned to her seat and quickly sat down without waiting for the Weyrwoman to command it. She had a feeling the Weyrwoman would probably see any diffidence as insolence.

"There is one thing I need to make clear," Maeli began as soon as Luru let the seat take her weight. Luru jumped at her abruptness. She didn't have to make an effort to look attentive.

"I am not interested in your reasons, excuses or pleading." Luru stared back. She had none to make at this point. The Weyrwoman continued.

"Your behaviour is such that we find it unacceptable to the Weyr and we are putting measures in place to have you removed herewith."

Luru was strapped for speech. She wasn't even sure what that meant. Did they intend to separate her from Daruwinth?

It was the Weyrleader who surprised her by continuing.

"You and Daruwinth will be transferred to Igen Weyr," said J'mur. "There is no weyrling class there at present and there is not expected to be one for a good two Turns. It will be easier for everyone."

So she was not to be separated from Daruwinth. Luru relaxed slightly and thought of how ludicrous that idea had been. No dragonrider would be that cruel to another. But Igen Weyr? Luru knew little about the smallest Weyr other than that its one distinguishing feature. There had to be another reason they were sending her there though. If they wanted to exile her, surely they would have done better to send her to the High Reaches or to Telgar.

"How will I get there?" Luru's voice came out hoarse and she cleared her throat. "I cannot fly there myself."

"You and Daruwinth will be flown adragonback by a willing escort, provided we can find one." The Weyrwoman's poisonous barb stung and Luru stiffened. She thought about what the leaders had just told her. I've nothing to lose, she thought and straightened up in her seat.

"Am I being held responsible for the loss of Irith to Ista Weyr, Maeli?"

J'mur stood up and put his arm across Maeli as a tremor of anger seemed to propel the Weyrwoman to her feet.

Luru was about to carry on, goading Maeli into some sort of angered honesty, but the Weyrleader spoke first.

"It will be better for all concerned, Luru. We all know that you did not bring about the death of that poor green and that the damage was done long before she went between. But damage has been done beyond that which has happened to your sister. The weyrlings..."

"We do not need two more junior queens at Ista J'mur," Maeli's words sliced through her partner's sympathetic tone. "R'hut and Nell of Igen expressed their interest in acquiring one of the pair of golds even before the Hatching. She will go."

There was something in the timbre of Maeli's tone that made Luru aware of some other authority in the Weyrwoman's words as she pressed her will upon the bronze rider. He held up his hands. Luru glanced between them. She was suddenly reminded of the night of the Hatching, when she had overheard part of Maeli's exchange with Lord Holder Boran. The Weyrleader had been mentioned then. Has she been undermining him in collusion with the Lord Holder?

That night had been the key she realised. Maeli had been embarrassed by Luru then and had probably relished this as an excuse to remove her. She remembered how J'mur had smoothed over the situation, and how he had toasted her with as much aplomb as if she hadn't been so outspoken to a Lady Holder in a public gathering, so no one even remembered what she had done. She had been grateful to him then.

Luru!

Daruwinth. You're awake. Have you been

Luru. At the lake. A bronze says there is Thread in the water!

Thread in the water? Luru frowned. She had heard the hiss and watched the Threads as they drowned in the ocean herself. Thread could not survive in aquatic conditions, she knew that for a fact.

It appeared nothing had been communicated to the Weyrleaders. J'mur turned his head away from Maeli and took his seat again as she drilled her gaze into him.

"Weyrleader?" Luru spoke up sharply.

J'mur kept his eyes down. Maeli's face turned murderous as she turned her attention to Luru. She snapped, "What is it?"

"Trouble by the lake," said Luru listening to Daruwinth as she flooded her mind with what she could see. "Firenth and D'nil."

The Weyrleaders pushed back their chairs and swept out of the second exit without another word. Luru didn't follow them; she was utterly absorbed in her dragon and what she saw.

She was aware of the bronze dragonet struggling and the boy standing helpless knee-deep as he watched. The dragon was trying to escape. Daruwinth shared what she could hear of his panic.

Thread in the water!

The bronze dragon did appear to be wrapped in silvery bands. The dragonets watching on the shore were squeaking in fear; they believed it and they were trapped without firestone or their riders nearby. Nor could they save their clutchmate. Irith was the name whispered, although no one knew who started it.

Firenth's wings were too small and weak and heavy with the weight of water. He hadn't a hope of taking flight. Then Luru gasped as she became aware of his rider plunging in to save his mate, come what may. That was the real danger. Luru and everyone else heard the dragonet scream in horror at the sight of his rider entering Thread-infested water. You'll die D'nil.

Luru screamed out to Daruwinth. Calm him! It's not Thread. It's not real!

CEASE!

Luru rocked on her chair, shaken by the force of the command. Then there was silence.

What of Firenth, Daruwinth?