Dragon’s Kin

Chapter XII

When Nuella returned home, it felt like she had been gone a lifetime, even though it was only a fortnight. She had smelled the sea. She had tasted exotic fruits. She had drunk the best Benden wine—watered down, just the way it was served to the young Lord and Lady; she wasn’t sure she liked it but she had kept that to herself. She had been introduced to fire-lizards and found them charming but too flighty. Watch-whers were much more her sort of person. And dragons, of course. Beneath her, Lolanth rumbled in amused agreement.

She simply had not gotten used to being called “my Lady.” And the people who had said it to her! It was bad enough that M’tal, Weyrleader of Benden Weyr, had said it, but the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman of Ista Weyr had also called her that.

C’rion had even presented her with a gold necklace especially made just for her!

It was formed of links in the shapes of dragons, fire-lizards, watch-whers, and dolphins. Seeing the latter, Nuella had fearfully entertained the notion that the Istan Weyrleader might want her to teach watch-whers to talk to dolphins, too. Fortunately, as she hadn’t the slightest idea how to go about it, that wasn’t the case—C’rion had merely wanted to give her something as a mark of the Weyr’s gratitude.

The training had been easy after Renilan. And Nuella had loved every exhausting second of it. The warmth of amazement from both watch-wher and wherhandler as they learned to communicate with each other and with the dragons of Pern was something she would cherish in her heart forever. And she admitted to herself that it was an accomplishment no one could take away from her—and no one else could have done. She had to be blind to see the way the watch-whers did.

Nuella realized how much she had learned herself. As she worked with new watch-whers, it had become easier, much easier, to create a rapport with them, to get a feel for what they were feeling and “see” their images.

She had also learned an incredible amount of watch-wher lore. She couldn’t wait to tell Kindan that Risk’s name had been predetermined—that watch-whers picked a name that matched their human’s, and that their names always ended in “sk”. Or that the watch-whers of the major Holds always named themselves after their Holds and always bonded with someone of the Hold’s bloodline. Or that watch-whers sometimes outlived their humans and could re-bond with another human—or maybe she wouldn’t tell him that, she thought with a frown. It might upset Kindan too much to realize that if he had only known better he might have saved Dask. Well, she decided, perhaps not. From all she’d heard, Dask had been too injured to re-bond and was too determined to carry out Danil’s wishes to obey anyone else.

She wondered if Zenor would be there to greet her. They were arriving late, but not too late for him to be up for a special occasion. She wanted to show him her necklace. She wanted to show her father, too. And her mother. Her mother, whose faith in her had never flagged, who had never allowed Nuella to feel held back in the least by her blindness, who had always shown her ways to make it into an asset, to use it to her advantage. And little Larissa. Maybe—Nuella crinkled her nose—she could get out of having to change the baby’s diapers for a bit, perhaps two or three days.

She felt the impact as Lolanth landed softly on the meadow outside the first mine shaft. She’d asked J’lantir to land there so that her arrival wouldn’t be noticed. She hoped her father would appreciate her thoughtfulness.

She felt J’lantir hop down. “Come on down, my Lady,” he called from below.

“It’s lucky it’s night and there’s no one about or we would have had to use the watch-heights to avoid the coal carts.”

Nuella threw her leg across Lolanth’s neck and slid down off his side into J’lantir’s waiting arms. She had gotten quite fond of that drop, falling free, knowing that someone would be there to catch her. J’lantir twirled her around once and then lightly set her on her feet.

“All back, safe and sound,” he announced gaily. Then he added in a slightly puzzled tone, “Although the welcoming party seems to have become somewhat mislaid.”

Eagerly, Nuella sniffed the night air, hoping to catch a scent of new arrivals before J’lantir’s eyes saw them. She listened, drinking in the night noises, sifting through them for the sound of approaching feet. With a triumphant smile she found them—a pair approaching, just coming into view about—

“Ah, there they are,” J’lantir announced. “Not quite as many as I would have expected, but perhaps it’s the late hour.”

“No,” Nuella said, suddenly feeling chilled. “Something’s wrong.”

“Nuella?” Zenor called out in the night.

Nuella took a relieved breath. “Zenor, what is it? Where’s Kindan? Kisk?” Nuella reached out for the familiar wispy touch of her favorite watch-wher and got back saddened darkness. “What happened?”

“There’s been an accident,” Renna said, walking up beside her brother.

“It’s all my fault!” Zenor cried in a tear-choked voice.

“A cave-in,” Renna said.

“Kindan? Kisk? Are they okay?” Nuella asked in panic.

“They’re in the shed,” Renna said. “Kindan tried to go but Tarik forbade him and punched him when he tried to get in anyway.”

“Tarik?” Nuella repeated blankly.

“He’s no miner,” Zenor snarled. “I told Natalon when I saw their joists. He—your father went to look for himself. He was furious when he saw the state of Second Street. He made Tarik switch with him.” He took a deep breath and said in a rush, “I think they were shoring up the tunnel when it collapsed.”

“Father?” Nuella cried.

“And Dalor—all their shift,” Renna told her tearfully.

“Tarik,” Zenor said venomously, “said that the cave-in was too long to dig them out.”

“Toldur tried anyway,” Renna added. “But they couldn’t get more than a meter. Toldur said that at least ten meters of the tunnel’s caved in. That’d take weeks to dig out.”

“Tarik put guards on the shaft after Kindan tried to bust in,” Zenor said. “There’s only a pump crew there now, trying to get clear air into the mine.”

Nuella started walking down the hill toward the camp.

“Nuella,” J’lantir called after her, “what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to see Kindan,” Nuella shouted over her shoulder. “I’m going to rescue my father.”

Kindan’s eyes snapped open as someone nudged him awake. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the day’s events had left him battered, bruised, and more frazzled than he had realized. A soft hand felt his forehead and pulled away quickly from the large bump and half-dried scab.

“He hit you hard, didn’t he?” Nuella asked as he sat up. “Can you walk?”

“Nuella...” Kindan groped for words.

Nuella shushed him with a finger on his lips. “Zenor told me.”

“I tried, Nuella,” Kindan said with new tears rolling down his cheeks. “Kisk and I tried.”

“I know,” she said, her throat tight with pain. “I know.” She felt her warm tears run down her face and hugged Kindan tightly, and for a moment both of them were lost in their grief. After a long while, Nuella felt the tightness in her chest ease and she drew back from Kindan. “Can you try again?” she asked after a moment.

The curtain at the entrance rustled and someone stepped into the shadows.

“I have an axe.” It was Cristov.

“Cristov?” Nuella said in surprise. Her mouth hardened. “You can’t stop us.”

“Nuella,” Kindan began, warningly.

“I won’t stop you,” Cristov said with a grim smile. “I want to help.”

Nuella gasped in surprise.

“I won’t stop until we get them out,” Cristov said fiercely. “Alive or dead.” He looked at Kindan. “Your father taught me that. A miner never leaves his friends.” He added dejectedly, “Only, I don’t know how to get past the guards.”

“I do!” Nuella sprang up from the floor. Kindan stood up with her. Kisk rose and, with a cry of support, rustled her stubby wings.

They met Zenor and Renna at the shed’s entrance. Kindan spoke quickly in low tones to Zenor to explain the situation with Cristov and then they all headed up to the hold.

“Where are we going?” Cristov asked. “This is the path to the hold.”

“Exactly,” Nuella said. “Didn’t you ever wander around it when you lived there?”

“Well, yes,” Cristov admitted reluctantly.

“Did you ever try the closet on the second floor?” Kindan asked.

“I knew there had to be another entrance!” Cristov exclaimed. “But the closet?”

Kindan enjoyed Cristov’s look of amazement as they made their way up to the second-floor landing, but his own jaw dropped when they topped the stairs.

“Toldur!”

The big miner grinned down at them. “You’re late,” he said, hefting an axe to his shoulder. “I thought I was going to have to come find you myself.”

He nodded to Kindan. “I figured you were your father’s son. I knew you’d try again.” He caught sight of Nuella and frowned; his frown deepened when Renna reached the top of the stairs.

“This is Natalon’s daughter, Nuella,” Zenor said, stepping forward deliberately. “She’s going to rescue her father.”

“And I’m helping,” Renna added in a voice that brooked no argument.

“There are enough hard hats for all of us through that door,” Nuella said, pointing beyond Toldur’s back.

The big miner grinned. “Don’t I know it? Who do you think checks on ’em to make sure they’re still safe? How do you think I found out about you, anyway? Although I’d always thought the blond hair was Dalor’s.”

“My brother,” Nuella admitted.

“Can we go now?” Renna asked.

Toldur nodded. “Just let me get some glows.”

“No time,” Nuella said brusquely. “I’ll lead. I know this passageway like the back of my hand.”

“You can’t see the back of your hand,” Zenor muttered.

Nuella’s hand shot out, super-quick, and accurately whacked Zenor on the side of his head with the back of her hand.

“Who said anything about seeing it?” she asked sweetly. She walked into the closet and quickly slid open the secret door at the back.

“That’s got to hurt,” Renna added with no trace of sympathy for her brother.

Zenor grinned at her, still clutching his wounded head. “At least she’s not sulking anymore.”

“I heard that,” Nuella shouted back from the darkness.

Inside the passageway, they quickly picked up hard hats and put them on. Nuella led the way, with Kisk and Kindan close behind. Toldur brought up the rear, grumbling under his breath about missing glows.

“Shut the door,” Nuella called over her shoulder. “Kisk sees best in the dark.” After she heard the door close, she asked Kindan, “Do you remember how many paces it was to the new mine shaft?”

“One hundred and forty-three after the first turn,” Kindan replied without thinking.

“You lead then,” Nuella ordered, bracing herself against the wall to let him and Kisk pass.

“Why this passage?” Renna asked. “Who built it and why?”

Toldur answered her. “We did—Natalon, your father, Kindan’s father, and myself when we first came into this valley, half a Turn before the rest of you. Natalon wanted to be sure that the rock was strong enough for a hold. We used all the rocks we excavated to build Natalon’s hold, the Harper’s hold, and the bridge over the river.

“It took us nearly two months,” he added. “But it was worth it because we learned a lot about digging through this sort of rock. It really helped when we sank the main shaft.”

“How long would it take to dig through from this passageway to the new shaft?” Nuella asked as she started forward again.

“Three, maybe four hours,” Toldur replied at once.

“That’s too long,” Zenor muttered.

“Could Kisk help?” Kindan wondered. “If we broke through in a couple of places, could she push hard enough?”

“It’s solid stone, Kindan,” Toldur objected.

“Is that for a full-grown man?” Renna asked. “Because I’m not full-grown; so maybe I could get through sooner.”

“We have to get Kisk down there, too,” Nuella pointed out.

“Here’s the turn,” Kindan called. He started counting his paces, trying not to let his pounding heart interfere.

“We could carve out a crawlway,” Cristov suggested.

“In an hour, maybe less,” Toldur agreed. “I’ll start.”

“You’d better be right about the position of that shaft,” Nuella muttered softly to Kindan.

Kindan took a ragged breath and nodded in the darkness. One twenty. One twenty-one.

“Are we there yet?” Renna called from the rear.

“Nearly,” Kindan called back. One thirty. “About ten more paces.”

He counted the final paces and stopped. “Right here.” He marked the spot with his hand. “Nuella, find my hand and put yours there,” he said. “I’m going to measure off the far side.”

“I’ll come with you,” she said. “Toldur, can you find my hand?”

In a few moments the big miner had marked out a crawlway with a few taps of his pickaxe.

“Okay, everyone put your fingers in your ears,” Toldur warned them. “This is going to get mighty loud.”

The big miner swung fifty times at his spot and then inspected his work. “Cristov, come here,” he called. Toldur got Cristov oriented and then the young miner went to work for another fifty blows. Zenor took over after that, then Kindan.

“My turn,” Renna declared when Kindan had counted fifty.

“This is not the time to learn to swing an axe,” Zenor swore at her.

“There’ll be plenty of work later,” Toldur promised, relieving Kindan of the axe.

“All right,” Renna allowed grudgingly.

A short while later, Toldur broke through. “How long did that take us?” he asked the group.

“Nineteen minutes,” Nuella responded promptly, “I timed it in my head.”

“Good,” Toldur said enthusiastically. “Let’s see if we can get a crawlspace done in the next twenty.”

In the end it took them twenty-three more minutes to clear a space wide enough for Kisk.

With Kindan’s encouragement, the small watch-wher poked her head through the opening. “Where are we, Kisk?” he asked her. The others waited silently.

Nuella felt for Kisk’s response. “We’re right behind the pumps,” she said.

“How’d you know?” Kindan asked, just about ready to say the same thing.

“I’ve gotten a lot better at feeling watch-wher’s thoughts,” she told him.

“Come on, let’s get going,” Renna urged from the back of the group.

“Let’s go, Kisk,” Kindan said to the watch-wher, giving her a push.

“Everyone be quiet,” Toldur whispered.

“Quiet?” Zenor repeated incredulously. “After all our digging?”

“That might not be noticed over the noise of the cave-in settling,” Toldur explained. “But voices will.”

The group crept silently around the unused pumps and over to the new shaft’s lifts.

“Two groups,” Kindan whispered over his shoulder. Nuella passed his message on. Kindan, Kisk, and Nuella climbed onto the lift at the top of the shaft. Kindan and Nuella worked as a team from months of practice.

“Shards, it’s noisy,” Kindan hissed as the thick ropes creaked and the pulley at the top of the shaft squealed.

“Don’t go too fast,” Toldur whispered from above.

“Don’t go too slow,” Nuella hissed at Kindan.

She fidgeted nervously while they waited at the bottom of the shaft for the others to lower themselves down.

“We weren’t that loud,” she whispered to Kindan.

“How do you know? We were too busy trying to be quiet to listen,” Kindan countered.

Finally, just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, the noise stopped. The others joined them.

“There won’t be anyone at the bottom of the old shaft, will there?” Zenor wondered aloud.

“No,” Toldur replied. “It’s too risky for anyone to stay down here.”

After a moment, Nuella said, “Kisk could see anyone before they could see her, anyway.”

“Let’s go, then,” Zenor said.

Nuella and Kindan had already started moving, with Kisk between them.

“No blindfold this time,” Kindan murmured to Nuella.

“Which is a pity, because I could have used it for a dust mask,” Nuella replied.

“Hang on,” Toldur whispered from behind them. The group paused. “Yup, I thought so,” he said after rustling a hand about in his hard hat. “There are scarves in the hard hats. Pull them out, but make sure you keep your hat over your head—there could be loose rocks anywhere along here jostled from the cave-in.”

“Not that it’ll do much good,” Nuella grumbled as they set off once more.

“Then why’d you mention it?” Zenor muttered back.

Nuella sniffed and increased her pace.

“You are keeping count, aren’t you?” Kindan asked her after a moment.

“Yes,” she said immediately. “Aren’t you?”

“Third Street is twelve paces ahead,” Kindan said by way of confirmation.

“Nuella,” he asked as they passed Third Street, “what if we’re too late?”

“We won’t be,” she said fervently, wishing it to be true. “When did it happen?”

“About an hour before sunset,” Kindan said. In agony, he confessed, “Kisk was still asleep. There was too much light for her until the sun went down. We got to the mine as quick as we could after that.”

Kisk gave Nuella a disconsolate bleep.

Instinctively, Nuella reached out and patted the watch-wher’s side. “Not your fault, sweetie, you did your best.”

Beside her, Kindan took Nuella’s words to heart, as well.

“That’s nearly twelve hours ago,” she said after a moment. “How long can their air hold out?”

“It depends on the size of the tunnel that survived,” Toldur answered from behind them. “No more than a day, though. Maybe less.”

Maybe a lot less, Nuella guessed. Desperate to avoid thinking about it, she said to Kindan, “Did you know that a watch-wher takes its name from its human?”

“Really?” Renna asked from the rear of the group, rightly guessing that Nuella was trying to distract herself.

“Yes,” Nuella affirmed. “And that the more bonded a watch-wher is with its human, the more closely the watch-wher’s name matches the human’s.”

“Oh,” Kindan said. “So I would’ve been better off to pick Kinsk over Kisk?”

“I don’t know how much it’s a question of your picking as it is of her picking,” Nuella corrected. “And it’s not to say that a short name won’t mean a long bonding. Renilan and Resk have been bonded now for over thirty Turns.”

“Oh,” Kindan said more cheerfully. Then he nearly tripped on a rock. “Rocks ahead!” he called over his shoulder. “Everyone mind your step.”

“Everyone start counting your paces,” Toldur ordered. “We don’t want to get lost.”

Nuella called out from the left, “First Street,” at the same time that Kindan called out from the right, “Main shaft.”

“Eighty-three meters from here,” Toldur said quietly.

“Do you feel that?” Cristov asked. “I feel a draft—it must be the pumps.”

“In or out?” Zenor asked. “It feels to me like it’s blowing in.”

“Everyone freeze!” Toldur hissed.

“What’s wrong?” Nuella asked.

“Tank’s blowing air into the mine,” Zenor replied in a dead voice.

“We’ll have to turn back,” Toldur said.

“Why?” Nuella cried. “We’re almost there! We can’t stop now!”

“Nuella,” Zenor said slowly, “with the air blowing in—it’s like adding coal to a fire.”

“No, it’s exactly like adding air to coal-gas,” Renna corrected. “It could cause an explosion.”

“He’s not doing it on purpose is he?” Kindan asked. No one wanted to answer that question.

“Come on, we have to turn around,” Toldur repeated.

“Wait!” Nuella cried desperately. “If we can get the pumps to suck the air out, could we go on?”

“It won’t work,” Zenor said. “You’d have to get crews on both the old and the new shafts or it’d have pretty much the same effect.”

No one knew what to say.

“We tried, Nuella,” Kindan said as the silence dragged on.

“I’m not quitting,” Cristov announced. “I won’t leave them.”

“We can come back when it’s safe,” Toldur said.

“For the bodies?” Zenor cried.

“Wait!” Nuella hissed. “If we could get the pumps on both shafts to suck the air out, could we continue?”

“It’d be too risky,” Toldur said after a moment. “The air has been pumped in here for hours now. At any moment it could meet a pocket of gas and...”

Everyone shuddered at the thought of the fireball that would result.

“We could leave our picks here,” Cristov suggested. “That way we couldn’t possibly make any sparks.”

“We’d have to move the rocks by hand anyway,” Zenor agreed.

“We still don’t have any way to get the pumps manned,” Toldur pointed out.

“Oh, yes we do,” Nuella said, her heart lifting. “Kindan, can I borrow Kisk for a moment?”

“Sure,” Kindan said instantly. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” Nuella said in a tone that discouraged further questions. She put her hands on Kisk. “Kisk, I need you to talk to Lolanth. Tell Lolanth to talk to me, please. It’s an emergency.”

Kisk nodded her head and blinked her eyes slowly. Then she chirped a happy acknowledgment and butted Nuella in search of affection. Nuella gave the green watch-wher a quick pat on the neck.

“Thank you Kisk,” she said. Then she continued, “Lolanth, please tell J’lantir that I need the pumps on both mines manned to suck the air out of the mines. Ask him to get the MasterMiner. Tell him I’m trying to save my father.”

J’lantir asks if you’re in danger, the dragon relayed.

“Only if we don’t get the air sucked out of the mine,” Nuella said aloud.

J’lantir says he will do it, Lolanth answered. He is very worried. I am very worried. We are calling Gaminth. M’tal comes. Ista comes. The miners have been told.

“If Tarik complains...” Kindan said, guessing what Nuella was doing.

“Are you talking to a dragon?” Zenor asked in amazement.

“Dragons will talk to anyone if they want to,” Kindan told him.

“Really,” Zenor muttered in amazement.

From above, they heard a chorus of dragon bugles loudly in the night.

The MasterMiner is here, Lolanth informed Nuella. He has started the pumps the right way. He is very angry with someone.

I am here, Nuella, the gentle voice of Gaminth called. M’tal wants to know where you are.

“We’re down here, in the mine,” Nuella answered aloud.

MasterMiner Britell is very worried, Gaminth informed her. He says you should come up immediately.

“I can feel the pumps,” Cristov said. “They’re pulling the air out.”

“The MasterMiner is here,” Nuella told them. “He says we have to leave.”

“We’re not going!” four voices responded in unison.

“Well, I can’t drag you all out by myself, and I won’t leave you,” Toldur said slowly. He said to Nuella, “If you can get a message to the MasterMiner, tell him what we’re hoping to do and ask if he has any suggestions.”

Nuella relayed the message. The MasterMiner says you should hope your luck holds, Gaminth reported.

“He says good luck,” Nuella told the others.

“Okay, let’s get going,” Kindan said. “It’s another eighty-six meters to Second Street.”

In silence, the group trudged past the mine shaft and the vigorous sound of the pumps. The rocks on the floor of the tunnel grew more numerous, and larger.

“We cleared a path on the tracks,” Toldur said. “If you walk in the middle of the road, you shouldn’t have to worry.”

The air was thick with dust. Occasionally they passed a glow, its light doing little other than illuminating the thick clouds swirling around them.

The darkness grew worse. Kindan realized that he had come upon another glow only because he’d insisted on keeping his fingers touching the sides of the tunnel and had felt the frame of the glow basket.

Shortly after that he barked his shin on a huge, irregularly shaped boulder. A cry from Nuella beside him made it clear that he wasn’t the only one to suffer.

Kindan realized that he couldn’t see her.

“How can you guys see?” Zenor wondered aloud.

“If you can’t see, hold hands,” Toldur told the group.

“Grab onto Kisk,” Nuella said. “She can see in the dark.”

“Second Street,” Kindan announced. “Here we are.”

“The cave-in is about two meters inside the turn,” Toldur said.

“Figures,” Kindan muttered, remembering the bad joists he’d encountered.

“We dug out a meter before we stopped,” Toldur added.

“So the edge of the cave-in was one meter inside?” Kindan asked. “How low is the ceiling?”

“You’ll have to duck,” Toldur admitted.

Kindan crouched down and started forward slowly.

“No, you stay behind,” Nuella told him, grabbing his shoulder. “I’ll go forward.”

“Why don’t we let Kisk look first?” Kindan suggested.

“What for?” Toldur asked.

“Hot spots,” Zenor said. “If Kisk sees heat, a spark would look like a little hot spot, right?”

“Right,” Nuella and Kindan agreed in unison.

“You’re better at seeing in the dark,” Kindan told Nuella. “Why don’t you work with Kisk?”

“Thanks,” Nuella responded. “Kisk, can you see any little lights? Look for little lights, Kisk.”

Nuella concentrated on the image she was looking for. After a moment she got a feeling of comprehension from the green watch-wher and then Kisk diverted her attention to the tunnel ahead. Ewrrll, Kisk chirped.

“Stale air,” Kindan translated. “Any lights?”

“No,” Nuella said. “No lights.”

“How about big lights?” Toldur asked. “Like people?”

“No,” Nuella responded immediately, in a bleak voice. “No big lights, either.”

“You mean no one’s alive?” Renna’s voice broke the silence. “No one at all?”

“Kisk said there was stale air,” Cristov said.

“Kisk can only see heat through about two meters of coal, probably less,” Kindan said.

“How do you know?” Toldur asked.

“We tested it,” Nuella said simply. She heard Kindan moving beside her. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Taking off my boot,” Kindan told her.

“Why? Have you got a rock in it?”

“Don’t make a spark,” Toldur warned as Kindan began to tap the sole of his boot on the hard rails that ran along the floor and into the cave-in.

“How far will that sound travel?” Nuella asked sourly.

“Shh!” Zenor hissed. “It’ll travel the length of the rail if you put your ear to it.”

Kindan finished tapping out his question and put his ear on the rail. He waited. And waited.

And heard nothing.

“Honestly!” Nuella snarled as Kindan started to rise. “You’re making too much noise. Don’t you know that you can’t hear half as well as I can?”

“Do you hear anything?” Kindan asked hopefully.

“Just you,” she snapped. “Shhh!”

Nuella listened. They waited. And waited.

“Eight,” Nuella said finally. “I hear eight taps, a long pause, and eight more taps.”

“They’re alive!” Renna shouted.

“It could just be rocks settling,” Toldur suggested soberly.

“Hang on, let me send a different message,” Kindan said. “Nuella, lift your head or you’ll lose your hearing.”

Kindan knelt down again and tapped out a different code. F-A-R.

“Far? You’re asking how far they are?” Renna guessed. She had learned her drum codes from Kindan.

“Shh!” Nuella hissed again, her ear on the rail. She waited. And waited.

“Nothing,” she reported finally.

“Maybe they weren’t listening when you sent that message,” Cristov suggested in the dead silence that followed. “Maybe they were still sending their answer. Try again.”

Kindan dutifully rapped out the drum code again.

Nuella put her ear on the rail again and waited. After a while she plugged the other ear to shut out Renna’s fervent whisper of “please, please, please.”

“Nothing—wait! Ten!” Nuella said. “I thought I heard ten.” She listened again. “Yes, definitely ten.”

“They’re alive,” Zenor said in profound relief.

“Only eight of them, though,” Renna pointed out.

“But they’re ten meters down the tunnel,” Toldur said. “That means they’re eight meters away from us.”

“Three days,” Cristov muttered sadly. No one needed him to elaborate. It would take crews working around the clock for three days to clear eight meters of rubble, and the trapped miners had less than a day, probably less than half a day, of air left.

“Tell the MasterMiner,” Toldur said to Nuella.

“There has to be a way,” Cristov said fiercely. “There has to!”

“All that training,” Kindan said miserably. “All for nothing. We came this far and we can’t save them.” He turned to Nuella. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice choked with tears. “Nuella, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not giving up,” Nuella said. “And you can’t either. You trained Kisk too hard, and we’ve come too far to give up now.”

“What can we do? We can’t dig through to them in time. We’d have to go between or—”

“Could a dragon get to them?” Renna wondered.

“They’re too big,” Zenor answered.

“And they have to see where they’re going,” Nuella added.

“Kisk could do it,” Kindan pronounced.

“Watch-whers don’t go between,” Nuella declared.

“Yes, they do, I saw Dask do it,” Kindan corrected. He saw that Nuella still looked doubtful and sighed. “Look, watch-whers and dragons were both made from fire lizards, right?”

Nuella nodded dubiously.

“Okay, then,” Kindan continued quickly, aware that time was running out for the miners, “if fire lizards can go between by themselves to places they know, and dragons can’t go between to places they don’t know unless a rider can give them an image—”

“But watch-whers see heat!” Nuella objected.

“Exactly!” Kindan agreed. “That’s why you have to ride her. You can give Kisk the right heat images.”

“Ride a watch-wher?” Cristov repeated in wonder.

“Danil did it once with Dask,” Zenor told him. “I remember.”

“She’s your watch-wher, Kindan,” Nuella protested. “I can’t ride her—she’s yours.”

“I can’t ride her: I can’t give her the right visual images,” Kindan countered. “You can.”

“Can you?” Renna asked desperately. “Can you save Dalor, Nuella?”

“I’d have to get a good visual image,” Nuella complained.

“Take a breath,” Kindan said in a low voice close to her ear so that the others couldn’t hear. “You can do it, Nuella.”

“But she’s yours,” she protested again.

“I’ll loan her to you,” Kindan said lightly. “She likes you anyway. You said watch-whers can change bonds, right?”

“Right,” Nuella agreed reluctantly. “But how will I know what the image should be?”

“You know your father and how he looks and you know Dalor. Start with them and imagine their heat images in your mind—you can do that, right?”

“I don’t know,” Nuella admitted nervously.

“You’ve done it with Dalor, playing hide-and-seek, right?” Reluctantly, Nuella nodded. “And you know the shape of your father, right? And you know what a heat image looks like, so you can imagine his heat image standing next to Dalor.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Good. Do that,” Kindan said. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Do you know how many people Kisk can carry at a time?” Nuella asked him.

“Nine,” Kindan answered immediately, lying. “I’m sure the number was nine.” To Toldur he said, “Can you take the others back to the main shaft? We need to set up a pattern that Kisk can recognize to go between to on this side.”

“All right,” Toldur said. “She sees in the dark, right?”

“No, she sees heat,” Kindan corrected. “What I want is for you to go to the far side of the shaft and form a line across it. Toldur, I want you nearest the shaft, ready to help people out. Renna, you stand beside him. Cristov, next to her. Zenor, you should be touching the west wall. All hold hands until Nuella arrives.”

“Nuella, will that work for you?” Kindan asked. “Can you imagine that?”

“I’ll tr—” She cut herself off. “Yes, I can,” she said firmly. “What if I have to make two trips, though?”

“If you have to make two trips, I’ll be there for the second one. I’ll stand in front of Renna and Cristov. Will that work?”

“Yes, I can see that,” Nuella agreed.

“Okay, Toldur and the others move off now, please,” Kindan said. “I’ve got to tap some instructions to the other side.”

“Don’t try doing that until they’ve gone,” Nuella cautioned.

“Don’t make any sparks!” Toldur reiterated.

“Right,” Kindan agreed. “No sparks. Sparks are bad.”

Ten minutes later, which seemed like ages to Nuella, Kindan lifted his head up off the rails.

“That could have gone faster if you’d let me listen,” Nuella told him sourly.

“You need to stay calm,” he reminded her. “And bond to Kisk.”

“She’s a sweetheart—I’ve always felt a special bond with her,” Nuella assured him.

“That’s what I always thought,” Kindan admitted cryptically. “Everything’s ready now. You need to imagine your father and your brother standing side by side, holding hands. Kisk should arrive with her nose touching Dalor’s, and everything will be fine.”

“Who’s on which side?”

“Dalor’s on the right, that’s what all my tapping was about,” Kindan said promptly. “I think you’ll want to climb onto Risk’s back, but crouch low on her neck. Let me help you.”

Nuella scrambled onto the watch-whers back and wrapped her arms around the long neck.

“Ready?” Kindan asked.

“Ready.”

“Remember, it only lasts as long as it takes to—”

Nuella fixed the image in her mind, two heat-rainbow bodies with a hot spot between them where they held hands, and gave the image to the watch-wher.

The cold of between enveloped her. Silence filled her ears.