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The inn was not rich, but neither was it a shabby place. It obviously had rooms for sailors and visitors - some of them loudly occupied by those same men. And women, by the sound of it. The caravan drivers met up with the kids, with Tedry in front and a big smile on his face.

"I've had two offers for the runners and three for the bag of buttons," he laughed. "I turned them all down though - I figured we'd want those..."

The group of six had one large room to themselves, and for the first time in ages slept in beds that had sheets and pillows. Even in the farm stead, they had to sleep on blankets on the floor, since the house was already overfull with people.

Even so, and even after their exhausting day, they could hardly sleep. Milonna asked it first:

"What will we do if the weyr won't have us?"

They pondered in silence, and then Tedry offered a suggestion. "We work here, we could even just replace the men working the tithe caravan eventually. We know more than enough about how this all works to do that much."

Sleepy, Chyssen agreed. Her flitter had snuggled into her hair, as usual. "Maybe we could work up some money and get passage to somewhere warm."

"I don't fancy being on a boat like that," Halaeny muttered.

"Nor I," Zan said, "but it's a thought. And besides, we'll get accepted into the weyr. It's best to be sure of something, before you do it. It won't fail."

Privately he thought to himself, it can't fail. It just can't.

***

There was a stiff wind pulling from the sea, and it brought along with it a cold spatter of rain. But it didn't last long, nothing got too soaked. Before leaving the inn, the caravans had all been fitted with rounded covers - including the clan cart. The runners had been looked at and inspected, thought highly of, in fact. But they weren't used to these conditions, so Fiorion had to continually reassure them in his peculiar manner that everything was fine.

"It's a two day journey," said the caravan leader, "are you all sure you're going to make it?"

"We've endured worse, all our lives," Milonna said. "I'm sure that we can take a little rain."

For her to say this, impressed Zan. She was growing more confident, even though she'd brought up the question of if they failed. She believed in him, in their efforts, in their group.

In their little clan.

They headed up the coast, and true to the driver's word the road was well maintained if not very much traveled. It swept around the huge cold bay, and eventually wound up through the hills around the west side of the big cliff mountain where the weyr was.

On the second day of travel it was perfectly clear and quiet in the morning, as warm as it would get for this late in the season and this far north. A chill wind still blew, but it brought no rain nor mist from the sea.

And they saw the dragons again. A thrill went through all six of them - as one they looked up and then at one another. Smiling, excited, they almost pointed but they would have embarrassed themselves.

"It looks like a threadfall sweep," said one man, "see how the wing has half a dozen blues and greens in it? They're the small quick ones. The browns, they keep everything together. That bronze, the big light one in the front, that one's the wing leader - he'll make any of the decisions."

"How do you know all this?" Asked Zan, since he was sitting nearby. The man wistfully looked at the sky.

"I was searched, when I was younger than you. Never impressed, but I went to live in the weyr near my home for, oh, four years. Six clutches passed me by, and by that time I was older than they wanted there."

"But you're not that old!" Zan said.

"Aye, but this weyr was a traditional one, the moment I hit twenty they had me out. I know I could'a stood here at Dragonhope, maybe even now, and I'm twenty eight now."

"They take adults that old?"

"Some do, some won't. But it's a good education, you can bet. Even if you don't get searched, boy, which I think you will, you'll pick it up sooner or later in a weyr."

Zan nodded, and hoped he'd be able to share this news with the others. Tedry was up in the leader's van again, while Zan was in the second. There were three more carts behind his, including Milonna's, all carrying goods from the local areas and beyond. Wherever Dragonhope served to keep free of Thread, he supposed.

"Why haven't we really heard much about Dragonhope?" He asked.

"It's not new, but it's not big either. That and thread isn't common in these parts. Too much water for its liking, I think. It hits water or stone and it dissolves - it hits flesh or dirt, that's history."

Zan nodded. Thread had only been falling since perhaps ten years before he was born and sporadically at that. It wasn't a full Pass yet, that he knew of. The gathers would stop if they knew - wouldn't they?

"No wonder no one likes the clans," he muttered.

"Why would that be, boy?" Asked the man.

"Because they don't pay tithes to weyrs. They just wander around aimlessly. They get hit by thread and no one knows or cares."

"You're from the clans, then?"

Zan nodded silently.

"Well it's nothing to shake a stick at, living out there like that. I'm from a small hold, myself, but we'd get some travelers in every once in a while. Battered like hell they would be. I don't envy them."

"I don't either." Zan said, and spent the rest of the morning in silence.

Chyssen watched the ocean to the east, its endless blue interrupted only by fishing ships and the occasional swell.

"It's beautiful, but dangerous," said the one woman on their caravan. "The sea can take away what it gives."

Chyssen nodded. "But it's powerful. I guess it's really cold here. Why do fish like the cold?"

The woman laughed, "because that's where all the good food is. Something about the little plants, I don't know everything about it. I only cast a net into it a few years." She held up her hand, which was scarred down the middle, "then I met up with a bigger fish than I expected to. Haven't been back in a boat since."

"That seems a shame, you know more than most I think." Chyssen absently scratched Arrow's neck, while she watched the waves.

She shrugged, "perhaps, but I'd rather keep my fingers where they are all the same."

Halaeny distracted himself any way he could from looking at that self same sea. He played a game of cards with a younger man, losing a few and winning a few. They played only for baubles, nothing serious. He'd hardly gamble away any of their loot after all.

It was quite cold camping out near the sea, but on the second night they were up on the hilly land, so the wind was abated a bit. From their camp site, they could see more and more dragons coming and going. Some would just appear from nowhere - teleporting from between - and many flew in small formations. Some times one or more would arrive and they could see clear damage on its wing or tail, perhaps it would be favoring a leg or their rider would be clutched in the dragon's arms instead of riding upon its back.

The reality of riding dragons during threadfall came crashing down on them, when they saw that.

But while it worried them as a whole, it was no more worry than they were used to before. Life was like that. They had dealt with it. They would continue.

***

And right into the weyr's lower caverns, they continued. The chilly chambers let out in several places, wind came from the sea and made an eerie noise through some caverns. The caravan was met by several dozen drudges and the people who had to be in charge. At least, that was what it looked like to Zan and Milonna.

"Tiruzel!" Yelled the driver of the caravan, and one woman turned to greet him. He led her directly to the group of younger kids. "These kids are interested in forging a ... longer term relationship with your weyr. You might be interested in them. They're quite the the little clan."

Zan and the others shared a very proud look at one another, and then turned their attention back on the woman. She was less than middle aged, but looked a bit hassled. Her pale brown hair stuck out from a hair wrap similar to the one Milonna wore, while her coveralls were doused liberally with flour or dirt or ... whatever it was on her. She had a big smile on her face, though.

"We can always use new hands," she said. "Come along, leave those things to the-"

"Some of this is just ours, ma'am," Tedry said, stepping up. "We've got items to barter, but we..."

"We also have our own sleep rolls and clothing, we're ... hoping that you'll allow us to remain on here. For a while." Zan said. Milonna hoped that he would keep his head and manage to get his tongue to behave. She was the headwoman and he was always a bit insubordinate to authority.

The woman looked him over, "do you hope that, now. Well, I can say that I'd appreciate the workers, but it's not all my decision. That'd be up to the weyrleaders."

"They have to approve everyone?" Asked Chyssen.

"Most," Tiruzel said. "But you lot I'll bring to them." She looked at them with one squinting eye. "Yes. I will do that. Leave that be!" She shouted at the drudges unloading their cart, "move it and the runners there to the stables. If it's not labeled for the weyr, it's not ours to take!"

That said, she draped her long slender arms over the shoulders of the two oldest - Zan and Milonna - and led them through the lower caverns.

The group followed her, mystefied at the size of the halls, and the brightness of their lights. It was also nicely warm inside the higher passages.

"Oh, the weyr is heated, lit and all that." Tiruzel said. "Here we are... You wait here, please. I'll go find the weyrwoman. And if a very tall dark-skinned woman comes looking for me, tell her I'll be back to the clinic when she stops trying to poke me with needles."

The odd woman left them in a wide, comfortable office room. There was a big desk, and a wall map. For the first time, the kids saw just exactly where they were - and where they had lived all their lives. Spread out to the west of the Weyr's hillsides, there were mountains and steppes, all so far north that they wondered - how did they even have summertime? And indeed, Dragonhope Weyr was quite small, at least according to the map. There were much bigger weyrs far to the east and to the south, along with holds that must have been a hundred times the size of Scarper.

Eventually, before they had really relaxed or gotten into any trouble, a strangely short woman came striding into the room. She wore a warm looking fur vest and snug tunic, not a dress as they were expecting. Most of the women in fact, those that they had seen almost all this time, did not wear dresses. Because she was hardier than most, Chyssen preferred dresses, but sometimes did complain of the chill they gave.

The weyrwoman sat before them, dwarfed by her desk. She glanced at each one of them in turn, and finally a smile came to her lips.

"Tiruzel always knows..." She said. She set about doing some small paperwork, while the kids looked nervously at one another.

"... Ma'am? Knows what?" Asked Milonna.

"Yes, what is it? May we stay here?" Asked Zanaeger. "We've come a very long way and-"

"Oh of course you'll be staying here. At least, until we can find you places to Stand. Honestly I can't understand why that woman never wanted to impress a dragon. She'd be the best search rider we'd have."

"... Search?" Asked Halaeny. His sentiment was quickly echoed in the others.

"Yes, certainly. If you want to make it formal I could send you - oh, I suppose I shall do that anyway, you big gold pest."

They realized only a moment later that she was talking to her dragon - which they then realized was a queen. The queen.

The woman was barely as tall as Milonna, which was to say - she was tiny. But she was strong looking, blond with oddly blackened tips on her fluffy hair. Fair skinned, burnt cheeks from being outside. She went by them, and then beckoned them to another door than that which they'd come in by.

"Come along," she said. "Nozomith awaits."

***

Chyssen almost fainted, when she saw the great queen. While the gold wasn't as huge as some, she was the first - and only - queen that any of them had ever seen, and therefore was superb.

"Right now, she's the only queen in the weyr that actually calls Dragonhope home. We host other queens clutches. There are two right now, in fact."

A moment passed before the kids realized what she meant.

"Of course we'll go. But you have to remember some things first."

She explained in patient terms to them, what she expected them to do and not do. Do not touch the eggs. Do not come any nearer than the dam wishes. Do not throw anything at the eggs or dragons. As a group then, they entered the hatching sands.

The place was huge, and warm. Kira, the weyrwoman, noticed someone standing and talking to one of the attendants, and made a whistle. He turned, begged out of his conversation, and came toward the group.

If Kira was stunningly short, then this man was her opposite in so many ways. Toweringly tall - much taller than in fact any of the group would be as adults - and amazingly dark skinned, he approached. He had very long hair, something that Zanaeger was sure was unusual in a weyr. He thought that traditions meant they kept their hair short.

The man looked at them all with his eerily yellow-green eyes, and then a silly expression crossed his long face. "I didn't do it," he said. Kira smacked him. Her head came to his ribcage at best. He shut up.

"These are our newest recruits, my sweet husband." She turned to the group, "this is my husband and weyrleader of Dragonhope, S'xon. He and Bhavyatath would be happy to show you the exterior of the weyr."

"Oh - we would, would we?" He asked.

"Yes of course you would. And the records room, if you would. I've writing to do." And with that, Kira was gone.

They were left with an uncomfortably smiling weyrleader, and a couple people in the sands who were openly laughing at this all.

"Oh shut up and get back to work," he said to them, "come along, if you need to see the place I suppose you need to see it."

"Why do we need to see the records room, sir?" Asked Milonna.

"In order to catch us up with things out in the big world. Nothing much happens here, but you could check our records and -"

"But..." She started to say, then faltered.

They expected everyone to know how to read and write.

This fact obviously came to S'xon a moment later. "Ah. I see. Well then I will show you to the classrooms and you're going to have to learn your basics first."

***

The process of becoming candidates was far more complicated than the group expected. They enjoyed it, certainly, but they were confounded by things that were expected of them that they just didn't understand. They would have to give up their runners, and probably the cart, if they impressed. Milonna was aghast about that, since they were in fact hers and belonged to her foster family in the first place. She felt a strong attachment to them.

"Perhaps something can be worked out, then," Tiruzel said, trying to smooth things with the weyrleaders and the teams of her own workers.

While Fiorion could read well enough to pass exams and help out with historical data, only Tedry, Chissen and Halaeny had any experience with books. Zanaeger and Milonna were sadly illiterate and had to learn everything from scratch. Milonna enjoyed it, she knew the value of books and words. Zanaeger - while he was certain he would get it - had a bit of trouble with things other than symbols and charts. But charts - he could read those. Once he mastered numbers and information, he did best at reading threadfall and tactics charts.

So they each began to have their special niches. And they each realized how much they wanted to impress a dragon. Every time they were near one, they'd get the same chills - if they didn't impress here, they would have to find a place. And come back - this was now their home!

Two of them found eggs of flitters, Zan of course had to have one. He almost bullied his way into gaining a smallish heavy egg. It burst open to reveal (of course) a bronze! Naming it Glim - what he called a more 'masculine' Glimmer - he strutted around for days with this small bronze on his shoulder. It was bigger than Chyssen's blue, but honestly not by much!

And then it was Fiorion's turn. He sniffed out a clutch of eggs that a wild female had lain, somewhere near the beach which he enjoyed walking all the time. He shared the clutch with some of the locals he liked, and kept one egg for himself. He asked if the others wanted one, but they declined. They were too busy for a flitter, they didn't want to clean up after it, yadda yadda. He focused on the big egg he found, hoping that it'd be a gold that would out-do Zan's bronze.

It wasn't. But what it was, amazingly enough, was the biggest green flitter anyone had ever seen. She was three or four times the size of Arrow, and close to twice Glim's size, and Zan didn't say a word. He was kind of scared of her. So was Glim. Even among the weyrfolk, used to seeing flitters come and go, Monster was her name from the start. She was demanding, loud, painful, and obeyed only Fiorion. Only he could soothe her - sorry, get her to shut up.

Then finally the days of hatchings came. They stood for one - but none of the eggs were for them. A gold hatched, beautiful and shining, along side a bronze. There were more eggs, but there were also more candidates from elsewhere.

They realized that the only way they would be impressing, therefore would be to head out.

So they said their temporary farewells. They knew the risks - they knew that it was possible that mistakes would be made and one or more of them might not make it back. But Zan gave them the speech about being confident going in - and sure of things before hand.

They were sure. They were ready. Terrified, alone, apart from each other for the first time in nearly half a year. They were going to Impress.

NEXT!