CHAPTER I
Put this on,” D’vin said to Cristov as they rushed to the Hatching Grounds. The white robe was the traditional garb for candidates, as every child on Pern knew from the Teaching Ballads.
Cristov suddenly realized that his heart was racing, his throat dry. In not much longer than it took D’vin’s bronze dragon to go between—no more time than it took to cough three times—Cristov went from being a miner recovering from an injury to being a candidate for a Hatching.
This can’t be happening, he thought. It should have been Pellar.
Pellar was the mute Harper who had rescued Cristov when his mine had collapsed, had saved Cristov when Tenim had purposely exploded the old firestone mine, and who had had a fire lizard before Tenim’s hunting bird had killed it—and had nearly killed Pellar, as well.
Pellar deserved to be a candidate . . . but Pellar had insisted upon remaining at the newly na ...
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