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perhaps it is an airborne sickness."
"You can't rule out something in their food, either," Salina countered.
Kindan nodded.
M'tal looked up at Lorana. "Gaminth said you had a plan. What was it?"
Lorana paused before answering. "I noticed repeated references to Fort Weyr.
It
seems that every time the Weyrleader encounters something extraordinary,
there's
a trip made to Fort-"
"No," M'tal said shaking his head. "I can guess what you're thinking and we
can't risk it. No one knows how the sickness spreads and we don't want to
spread-"
"But the fact that more dragons have gotten sick since we imposed the
quarantine
indicates that however the sickness was first acquired, it's being spread by
our
own dragons now," K'tan interjected.
"Maybe our dragons can't get sicker," M'tal said, "but we can't say whether
Fort
Weyr's dragons could." He shook his head. "It's a risk I don't want to take.
And
I can't ask K'lior to take it, especially as he's fighting his first Fall
tomorrow."
"Perhaps after?" Lorana suggested forlornly.
M'tal drew a loud, thoughtful breath. He let it out again in a sigh, shaking
his
head. "No."
Kindan started to speak, but Lorana grabbed his arm, shaking her head. "Very
well," she said. "We'll do what we can."
"Have you heard from Masterharper Zist?" M'tal asked Kindan.
Kindan shook his head. "Not yet. I've got a weyrling up on the watch heights
listening for the drums."
"Perhaps he'll have good news for us," M'tal said wearily. He looked at the
others. "Well, if that's all, I think I'll get back to B'nik's training
flight."
"It's time to do our rounds, anyway," K'tan said, rising from his seat. He
gestured to Lorana. "Coming?"
Lorana roused herself from her musings over the chart. "What? Oh, yes! I want
to
see Denorith's wing."
FIFTEEN
Ecosystems are constantly changing, adapting to new life-forms, while
simultaneously life-forms are adapting to the ecosystem. To engineer a change
to
an ecosystem is to commit to a lifetime of monitoring.
-Glossary of terms, Ecosystems: From -ome to Planet, 24th Edition
Tillek Hold, First Interval, AL 58
I wouldn't quite call Tillek warm this time of year," M'hall shouted over his
shoulder to Wind Blossom as they spiraled down toward the northern Hold.
"It will do for my purposes," she replied calmly, although she was enjoying
her
ride on dragonback too much to let anything like a mere chill in the air, or
Page 160
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
a
foggy day, disturb her.
M'hall's Brianth was wise and experienced-as was Benden's Weyrleader himself.
All the same, the descent through the foggy air was unnerving for both of
them.
M'hall was just about to give up and order Brianth between to safety when
they
broke through the cloud cover and saw land beneath-far too close for M'hall's
comfort.
Brianth immediately shifted from a spiral to a hover, allowing his rider to
direct him toward a safe landing spot.
The fog was so dense that it wasn't until M'hall and Wind Blossom were
through
the gates of Tillek Hold that anyone noticed them.
"At least it's not cold," M'hall admitted as they waved at the startled
guards.
"Da said old Ireland-on Earth where he lived as a boy-could get like this, in
the summer, with a fog coming in off the shore."
He craned his neck up behind him and let out a whistle as a gap in the fog
showed the mountains in the distance.
"It is a beautiful view, isn't it?" a voice called cheerfully to them.
A shadow in the fog resolved into a figure, which grew clearer as they
approached. It was a man. He was bearded and wore a heavy-knit sweater. He
had
seaman's hands and the swaggering walk that came from months spent at sea.
"Malon of Tillek at your service," he said, extending a hand first to Wind
Blossom and then to M'hall. "Your fire-lizard messenger told me you were
coming,
but I wasn't sure in this fog."
M'hall recalled from L'can that Malon had taken over the running of Tillek
Hold
just recently, after Jim Tillek's successor had passed on. The man was about
M'hall's own height, big-boned, brown-haired and brown-eyed, with a pleasant
gentleness in his eyes.
"Pleased to meet you," M'hall said.
"I think the pleasure is ours," Malon responded, gesturing toward the Great
Hall. "We've got a hearty fish stew waiting and a warm spot for Wind Blossom
for
her stay." He peered down at the diminutive old lady, his curiosity obvious.
"Although why you would prefer our shores to the warmer ones of Southern Boll
.
. ."
"You have a spot picked out for me on the beach?" Wind Blossom asked. "No
prying
eyes?"
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