Tointel woke Yarrow up with beating wings and little shrieks that vibrated painfully in her deaf ears. The little green's eyes were whirling red in anger, fear – she had no idea what, as she sat up abruptly. She stared right into a small face full of concern. Nisha was sitting on the mantlepiece looking equally upset, as was Mink's brown Rush, who was also hopping up and down till he saw her waken. At that point, he started zipping about the room.

Let me up, little one; it's all right, she thought firmly at her green, who did though he didn't look very happy to do so. As Yarrow sat up, gingerly, feeling aches and pains from the beating of only the day before, she noticed two things: Mink wasn't there, for one. She didn't remember him coming in, but she figured it was probably just that she'd been wrapped up in her own feelings. Yet, the young man rarely woke so early when he could – and it was barely dawn, she could tell by the half-light. The second thing she saw was the little gold firelizard, who was eyeing her with just as an upset look as the other three in the room. What on Pern? Who are you?

Firelizards never came near the hold of their own accord, and there were certainly no golds among the few who did live there. Yarrow wracked her own mind, but the little gold was giving as confused an image as the others: white light, dolphins jumping up and down in the water, fire in the sky. . . .

She was beginning to catch some of the panic the little ones were broadcasting, but – If I wake the Hold now, I'll risk another beating. It was that or her life, she had a feeling, and she didn't like that at all. Quickly she got herself in motion, ignoring as best she could the aches from yesterday. She threw on a tunic dress of green with blue under-lining, and a blue belt that had been a gift from her parents Turns back. But when she reached for her drum, in the usual place where she left it right by her bed, it was gone.

Yarrow's eyes narrowed. That had gone too far. Petia could do whatever she wanted to Yarrow herself, but that drum – yes, that was the last straw. She squeaked as Tointel landed abruptly on her shoulder, little claws digging in. "Ow!" But at least it brought her back to reality.

Now she could very faintly catch the vibrations of a – bell? Where is there one big enough to be sensed like that. . . .

And then, Yarrow realized where that bell had to be. It was the big bell down on the shore not far from the Hold, and someone was ringing it. She even grasped a very faint alarm sequence. But the other senses she was getting made no sense at all.

Fire in the air. Fire? The last time Yarrow remembered hearing of that sort of thing was several Turns back when a comet fell from the sky, devastating much of the coastal world. She pried Tointel's front claws from her shoulder, wincing, as she headed from the room that she refused to think of as "hers and Mink's". Again he broadcasted the vague pictures, and the other firelizards were following her she could tell, very upset.

The Hold was quiet, nobody seemed to have gotten the message save Yarrow herself. Where is your master? She thought at Rush but got little other than agitation. Maybe. . . .

They wanted her to leave the Hold, that much she was able to tell. And NOW. Danger signs were all over them, seeming to emanate from their every pore. All right, all right, Yarrow thought at the little ones who were doing their best to herd her, and she headed out toward the big doors. No watch-whers here, and the guards were lax enough – when they decided to be on duty. They seemed to care about their masters only as much as they had to. That's what Southern was like; either a bunch of scared, dimwitted Holders and servants, or a bunch of scoundrels with varying levels of intelligence. At the moment, Yarrow noticed, the guards didn't seem to want to play nice. They weren't at all visible to her as she went outside.

The dim light was brighter than it should have been, she noticed; a large bright golden-red light was appearing in the west. West?

That was when Yarrow understood. Piemur's Volcano. It was one of the few landmarks she'd learned of on Southern, one of those that everyone heard about. So, all right, it was erupting again. It did that t times, she knew.

The firelizards became more frantic, and suddenly the little gold was right in Yarrow's face. She broadcasted very clearly a building Yarrow remembered: Brevis's Hold, with all the happy people and a feeling of love and safety. In danger. At the same time, Yarrow caught from her own Hold's lizards more fire, like an image of the vanquished Red Star itself. Like the horrific and beautiful picture someone had made into a tapestry of Rider F'nor's flight and fall from the flaming menace. This was no ordinary eruption, she realized.

But where was Mink? Again she caught faintly the alarm bell from the coast, and she rubbed her eyes, trying to decide what to do. The volcano was far enough away from her larger Hold to not touch that, but what about Brevis's place?

Visigoth? She thought tentatively, nervous about rousing the big dragon or his rider at this hour. But she got an instant response.

Are you safe? You need to be safe.

Yarrow blinked. What do you mean?

He means what he says, B'nick sent clearly. Where are you?

Briefly, she sent to him what had gotten her out of bed. . . And there's a bell. . . .

Thad provoked little reaction, and she wasn't sure why. What's going on?

Piemur's Volcano is erupting, the largest one that has happened so far, young one.

But – Surely it was far enough away from most of Southern that it wouldn't hurt anybody, she thought. But Ierne is in the west, and that's where Brevis is.

All the while she was having this internal discussion, Yarrow was heading for the coastline and the only route she could remember to Ierne. The firelizards were zooming around her agitatedly, sending more and more intense views of the danger.

Brevis sent his gold to you? That abrupt message was from B'nick.

I do not know; does he have one?

Yes; her name is Barsha. She used to belong to Lord Toric, was the dry response. And cryptic.

But. . . .

As she reached the fellis bushes near the little stream that she'd been heading for, Mink appeared, looking haggard and worried but not much the worse for wear. Rush went straight for him, whirling around the young man's head and fluttering anxiously as his master tried to soothe him. "Not – good – goings on," he signed to her.

"Volcano, they say," Yarrow signed back, indicating the firelizards. "And. . . " She nodded toward the little gold who'd come for her.

Mink goggled at that. He'd obviously never seen a gold firelizard before. "She's beautiful!"

"According to B'nick, she belongs to Lord Brevis," Yarrow signed. Barsha? Is your name Barsha?

That provoked an instant response. The little gold stopped her fluttering about and landed on Yarrow's shoulder, and to Yarrow's surprise her own two allowed it. They were usually so possessive.

"I guess she is, then," Mink said with obvious amusement. His face darkened again. "Yarrow, I'm leaving the Hold. That's what I was doing out here. Apparently I have bad timing."

They both looked westward. Brevis? What's going to happen to Ierne?

But it was another who answered. We are saving those we can from the island, this one sent to her. I am F'lik, rider of Oth, and B'nik's Weyrmate. Lord Brevis is all right, B'nik wanted me to tell you. The last was tinged with amusement.

Absently, Yarrow petted Barsha. "It does sound bad over there," she agreed with Mink. "Ha! And here none of our Hold seem to know." No alarms had come to the Hold, none to be heard at any rate. The drum-tower was used so infrequently. How dare they? It was another insult to add to the others of the day. What if there had been an emergency at their Hold? She wondered, though she already knew the answer to that. "I don't know why this one came or was sent," she signed to Mink, "but I'm coming with you if you really are leaving."

He shook his head. "You should stay -"

"And be beaten again?"

Mink sighed, looking downtrodden. "I'm sorry for that," he signed. "It isn't nearly enough but I am sorry. You don't deserve that, at least."

"She took my drum too!"

"No, she didn't," he signed, and reaching behind him handed it to her with a sheepish look. "I – I did. I – was going to sell it, pay my way somewhere, anywhere." His eyes pleaded with her to understand.

Yarrow frowned at him as she snatched the drum back, the last gift from her parents or anyone who'd truly cared for her. "You're as bad as they are!" she signed, scowling at him. "Did you steal from the Hold coffers too on your way out? Kill your parents?"

His face reddened. "I. . . ."

But the sky was getting dark just then, as dark as it had been bright, and suddenly the air seemed to be choking Yarrow. She could sense the fear of the firelizards around her and Mink, and she looked up to see a giant green dragon she didn't know. I am Oth, little one. Visigoth says you can hear me. We have come to help you; get on!

Feeling faint, Yarrow let herself be hauled up onto the dragon's back along with her erstwhile husband, who was coughing. The brisk cold of between hit her like a hammer then.

They came out in a medium-sized Weyr, which was being filled at that moment with people who looked very confused and upset. Barsha appeared for a second, cocked an eye at her and disappeared again – looking for Brevis, Yarrow thought.

She wasn't sure what else to do, where to go in this place, so she just went forward. Absently, Yarrow looked for others from Southern but didn't see anyone. "They aren't here," Mink signed to her appearing out of a crowd by one of the stairways. He didn't look particularly worried. "C'mon, let's at least get out of the masses."

Yarrow and Mink went up the stairs, she a little nervously Mink with more boldness. Well, he is the scion o a 'Lord Holder', she thought. Up here were smaller Weyr entrances to private rooms, their doors covered by thin cloths. Many had insect netting over them. She wasn't surprised at that. The heat of the day was rising as the sun did – or should, but the volcano had blotted that out for a bit yet again. She sighed; another day in Southern.

"Hey, what are you doing?" she caught Mink's arm as he headed toward one of the rooms that was for the moment unguarded. "You aren't going to steal – from dragonriders?"

He shrugged, his face hard. "They probably don't need half the stuff they have, you know; that's what Hannin always said," he signed to her. "So why not? While they're gone, and there's so much chaos?"

This was not a side of Mink that Yarrow liked seeing. "No," she signed emphatically. "Come on. We are NOT going to steal from good people, who don't deserve it! Come to think of it, nobody is going to steal from ANYONE!"

"What's this about theft?" Brevis signed, appearing from the shadows as they came down the stairs, Yarrow tugging Mink along.

She colored. ". . . Nothing," she signed to the handsome young man. Barsha was seated comfortably on his left shoulder, her tail wrapped possessively around his neck. But he eyed Mink suspiciously.

"I know you from somewhere," he said slowly, not bothering to sign. There was a very odd electric charge between them just then that she could practically touch.