"Yes, yes, they did," Tirone said swiftly, glancing with an anxious frown at the despondent Masterhealer. "Come, my friend, you've solved so many of our recent problems. You cannot lose heart now." Tirone's bass voice oozed entreaty and persuasiveness.

"No, no, my dear Capiam, we cannot lose heart now," Master Fortine added from his comer.

Tirone rose, his manner suddenly brisk. "Look, Capiam, I'll drum for a convey. You can go to Fort Weyr, see what Moreta can tell you. Then on to that new man-what's his name, Bessel?-at Beastmasterhold. Meanwhile, since I take it that this vaccination program of yours is more urgent than ever, I'll sweeten hall and hold. I'll start with Tolocamp." Tirone jerked his thumb toward Fort Hold. "If he agrees, we'll have no trouble with the other Lords Holder, even that crevice snake Ratoshigan."

"Considering Tolocamp's mental state, however will you accomplish his cooperation?" Capiam asked, jarred from his depression by Tirone's obvious confidence.

"If you recall, my fellow Master, Lord Tolocamp has been deprived of our services for the past few days. As he has never encouraged any of his children or his holders to have ideas, he is going to need ours. He's had long enough to reconsider his intransigence," Tirone replied with a deceptively bland smile. "You take care of the vaccine; I'll organize the rest."

The Masterharper was careful to retrieve the log of the Windtoss from Capiam before he left with an energetic stride and a brisk slam of the door.

The elation that Alessan had experienced after his visit to Fort Weyr was compounded of renewed hope and the unexpected sympathy of Moreta. He would have liked to savor that incident but the most urgent problem, producing a usable vaccine for runnerbeasts, especially those he devoutly hoped that Dag had saved, took precedence over any personal consideration.

M'barak returned Alessan and Tuero to Ruatha Hold, landing in the forecourt. The speed with which Oklina emerged from the Hold suggested she had been anxiously awaiting her brother's return. She paused on the top steps, her face turned up to him. As he slid down the blue dragon's side, Alessan let out a joyful whoop and her expression turned to relief as she rushed to meet him. Exuberantly Alessan swooped her up in his arms, achingly aware of the difference between his sister's slight body and Moreta's. He gave Oklina a gentle kiss on her cheek. There had been scant time for affection between brother and sister lately, and, during her illness, Alessan had come to know how much he valued Oklina. A kiss, he had good reason to know, was a kind gesture!

"Moreta said the serum idea is valid. We're going to try it! Now!" Alessan told her. "If it does work, then Ruatha is open again and my holders cannot deny me their labor. If it doesn't work, we're no worse off than we have been."

"It has to work!" Oklina cried fervently.

Alessan shouted for Follen. "We'll need his help, his implements, and that old brood mare. I know she caught the plague and I can't risk any of the team animals."

"Arith! Behave yourself. That's Lady Oklina!" M'barak called. The blue dragon had turned his head round toward brother and sister, and was now wiffling closer and closer to Oklina, his eyes whirling. By no means afraid of such attentions, Oklina didn't know what to do and clung to Alessan.

At his rider's reprimand, Arith made a tiny little noise, a disappointed snort, and turned his head away while M'barak apologized profusely.

"I really don't know what came over him. Arith is usually very well behaved. But it is late, he is tired, and we'd better get back to the Weyr." Arith snorted audibly and M'barak looked startled. "I'd best be back at the Weyr."

Thanking M'barak and Arith for their convey, Alessan guided Oklina out of the way, a bemused Tuero following.

"Blue dragons are not usually fascinated by the opposite sex," the harper remarked dryly to Alessan.

"Really?" Alessan's reply was polite for his mind was on the mechanics of turning runner blood into serum vaccine.

"There is a queen egg on the Port Weyr Hatching Ground."

"And?" Alessan's courtesy turned crisp. He had a lot to do before he could see what Dag had salvaged of the Ruathan herds.

Tuero's grin broadened. "As I recall it, Ruatha has quite a few bloodties with dragonriders."

Alessan stared from Oklina to the dragon already airborne, and remembered K'lon's remark the day he had brought the vaccine to Ruatha Hold. "It couldn't be!"

At that point, Follen rushed out of the Hold, his expression hopeful, and Alessan devoted his full attention to putting vaccine theory to test.

Tuero brought the brood mare in from the field; she was quiet enough to be led by her forelock. Follen, Oklina, Deefer, and the trustworthy fosterlings bore the medical equipment to the beasthold. The momentum of exhilaration was briefly checked when they discovered that they didn't have large enough glass containers for the quantity of animal blood. Then Oklina remembered that Lady Oma had put away huge ornamental glass bottles long ago presented by Master Clargesh to Lords Holder as samples of apprentice industry and design. To spin such large bottles, Alessan, Tuero, and Deefer contrived a big centrifuge from a spare wagonwheel attached to spitcogs and a crank.

The runner mare stood quietly impassive since the bloodtaking caused no discomfort.

"Strange," Follen said as the first batch was completed and the straw-colored fluid drawn off. "It's the same color as human serum."

"It's only dragons who have green blood," Oklina said.

"We'll try the vaccine on the lame runner," Alessan said, wondering which blue rider was harassing his sister and why. All the time the wheel was turning, Alessan fidgeted. Since he'd no other option, he had been patient, but now that he could search out Dag, he was fretting to be gone. "If there's no ill effect on that creature, we can assume-we have to assume-that the serum works, since the same principle is efficacious for humans."

"It's too late to do more tonight anyhow," Follen said with a vast yawn when he had injected the serum in the lame beast.

"No one at the Harper Hall will think kindly of a message at this hour," Tuero agreed, knuckling his eyes.

"I think I'll just stay here tonight, in case there's a reaction." Alessan nodded toward the lame runner.

"And you'll be off first thing in the morning, won't you?"-Oklina leaned toward her brother, her dark soft eyes on his, her comment for him alone-"to find Dag and Squealer?"

He nodded and gave her shoulders an affectionate squeeze before he sent her off after the healer and the harper. Alessan watched the three until the glowbaskets they carried were out of sight in a dip of the roadway. Then he fixed himself a bed of straw in the stall next to the runner. Despite his good intention to remain alert enough to check on the beast, he slept soundly until first light. The injected runner was still lame but it exhibited no signs of a distress, no mark of sweat, and had eaten a good deal of the clean bedding with which it had been furnished.

Reassured, Alessan saddled the runner that Tuero had nicknamed Skinny-not a mount he would have chosen for anyone, but beggars couldn't be choosers at Ruatha those days. Alessan carefully packed the serums, needlethorns, and Follen's glass syringe into the saddlebag, cushioning them with clean straw, then mounted and urged Skinny onto the roadway.

The night before, he had had many doubts as they waited for the serum to be produced: doubts about many things, including Moreta's unexpected response to him. He thought of kindness and the kiss he had given his sister. Had Moreta only meant to be kind? Today, in the dawn of a bright fresh spring morning, he knew it had not been mere kindness in Moreta. He and the Weyrwoman had been of one mind in that brief instant. And the dragon queen had trilled in concord.