The place was a wreck. Yarrow stared at the rubble that had taken out half the main building. Is this what life down here is like, really? She wondered. Good thing trees weren't near buildings here at all – not because of any Thread worries, but for more of a comfort reason; the fewer insects attracted the better.

Mink blew out his cheeks beside her, and tapped her on the shoulder. "You still want to stay?" he signed, a weary look on his face. The young man seemed to have aged five years in the couple days they'd been up at Monaco.

She nodded. "I am going to help," she signed back resolutely.

And it was hard work, too. The residents of Southern seemed fairly resigned to their fate, but then they were always like that. As Yarrow began assisting with clearing rubble and broken timber, she saw the same looks on the faces of the people that she'd seen for a few years. She wondered how Brevis was doing. Every so often Tointel or Nisha would appear for a bit, flashing pictures to their mistress of other parts of the Hold ruins, and sections of it that were still intact. Then they'd be gone again, their status update done for that time.

It was an earthquake or two that had followed the volcanic eruption, apparently. That was the official word Yarrow and Mink had received from the dragonriders. She'd only gotten it by proxy, as she was not allowed back into the meeting once her marriage to the young "Lord Holder" was dissolved. They'd looked a little uncomfortable about that, about having to tell her to leave, but then Yarrow figured the whole situation was an uncomfortable one. She hadn't minded then. Now – seeing the actual devastation was even more than the vaguenesses Mink had told her about.

She found him around sunset, over by the main hall which was mostly intact, though a large crack ran down the length of the floor now. Mink looked as tired as she felt. "Would you like some food?" he signed to her. His parents gone, there was little of the nervous young man who didn't want to be noticed. Haligon was right, he'll make a good Holder whether he gets to keep Southern or not, she thought, and nodded. It felt weird being able to just sit down to dinner at the Hold without worrying whether Petia or Hannin would appear any minute. She could still feel curious – and some disdainful – looks on her. News of her separation from Mink who they seemed to like well enough had obviously spread.

Klah, breadrolls, some fish, was dinner; at least some of their larder had survived the wreckage. The whole east end of the Hold was damaged but Yarrow supposed that made sense, and a few outer buildings were half in shambles. She couldn't imagine what Brevis's Hold looked like, if it was this bad here.

"I remember the meteor crash – it was before you came," Mink signed to her when she looked up at one point. "Everybody was out of sorts here. No problem; Southern's usually lucky. And there was that tsunami that also didn't touch us in – the Islands. . . though I was very young. This -" he waved a hand around indicating the Hold – "This, I'm not used to." He smiled wryly.

Yarrow nodded. "It's confusing," she signed back.

At that moment Borsa appeared out of nowhere, and landed right in the middle of the table. Yarrow suppressed a laugh. The little gold had obviously been informed that she must be noticed – as if that was hard here, where nobody had one! Borsa hopped right over to Mink and pointedly showed him one of her legs, on which was strapped a little note. He obligingly took it off, at which point she folded her wings back and sat on her haunches right there, waiting.

Mink read the note, reread it, then passed it over to Yarrow who read it herself. "Congratulations to the new Lord of Southern, may you have a good time with what you have," it said. She frowned; odd choice of words, she thought.

Next day, at about noon, there was a commotion in the hold Yarrow couldn't ignore; all of a sudden people started running this way and that. Of course, they didn't bother to let her know what was going on. For some reason, the idiots at Southern – all except for Mink – seemed to hold her personally responsible not only for the eruption and subsequent earthquake but more importantly for the death of their former Lord Holder. They didn't seem to hold it against Mink at all, on the other hand. These people wouldn't know their hand if it wasn't attached to them, she thought in disgust, and put down the rocks she'd been carefully setting into place to be mortared, as the stonemason had joined the crowd heading in the direction of what remained of the great Hall.

There, she saw someone who looked remarkably like Brevis but who definitely wasn't; his hair was more sandy for one thing, and he looked older. And here she'd thought Brevis to be the elder of the old Lord's sons. How many children does he have? She wondered. She didn't wonder how he'd known Southern was a shambles; half Pern must know by that point. He was eyeing her oddly, she suddenly realized.

Feeling a little shy but more confident, due to the lack of Petia or Hannin over her shoulder, Yarrow walked purposefully over to stand by Mink who was shifting his stance, clearly uncomfortable. Well, she had SOME rank. . . Yarrow held out a hand and pointed to her chest. "Ya-row," she mouthed intently, a bit satisfied with herself. Let Toric's get appreciate some of the mess I had to go through. "HARPER Yarrow," she added. It wasn't technically true, but she had been acting as an apprentice Harper for Hannin, both drumming and writing his records. And she was the daughter of two of them.

The middle-aged lord seemed to get the crux of what she was saying to him. He had at least the courtesy to bow. "I am Lord Besic," he said to her, a little uneasily like anyone talking to me here, she thought with an internal sigh. Besic, Besic – oh, yes there was something about him being the heir to Toric, another of those who hadn't come forward when the man died. So why appear now? She wondered, as he turned to Mink and clearly said something, because the younger man colored. In fact, spots of anger appeared on Mink's cheeks and she'd never seen that in him before. He was answering, rather hotly from his body language.

". . . was confirmed!" was what she made out from his rapidly moving lips and clenched teeth. Very hard to read, though he then gestured in Yarrow's direction and turned to her. "YOU were there," he both said and this time signed. Quickly, but he did it, at least. When she didn't fully seem to get what he was communicating, he said and signed, ". . . when they made ME the Lord Holder of Southern."

That was because nobody else was there to challenge it, she remembered, wondering who'd tipped the man off to this fact. He clearly knew, though, since he said the same thing just then:

"Nobody else from the family was there to challenge – making it an illegal placing, in my point of view."

Technically, this wasn't correct either, Yarrow knew from the bits of Hold law she understood. A Hold could be taken by the nearest blood relative who was accessible. Under the circumstances, there had been nobody who could reliably act as steward till Toric's children were contacted, so the other Lord Holders had chosen Mink his cousin. They had said something about "Till later," she thought but tiredness and shock from the utter destruction here at Southern had wiped exact words from her mind.

". . . So," Besic was continuing, making sure she could see him – he wants a Harper to be witness so that this looks legal, she realized – "I'm come to claim what's mine."

More rapid speaking and signing from Mink, on that topic. "Need – to let know Lords, can't do – all at once," she made out from the now clearly upset young man.

Besic only shrugged. "Let them know, then," he said, a bland look on his face. "Harper, drum away all you want; and while you're at it you might want to inform this young man of Hold Law."

Technically, she thought Besic was probably right. But she couldn't be entirely sure. And looking into Mink's anguished face just then made her feel terrible. She'd never been entirely certain she liked him, but he didn't deserve this treatment. Besic was just like his father had been, if all the horrible accounts were true. Fire lizards won't stay with someone who mistreats them, she remembered Menolly telling her once. Besic didn't seem to have one, any more than his father had for any length of time.

Yarrow felt a little trapped – more than a little. So, she did the one thing she knew how to do: she bowed to Mink and headed for the drum tower. Let Lord Besic think she was the Hold Harper for awhile longer. It would give her time to figure out what he was really doing there.