The Pattern of the Stars (2/2)

Writers: Estelle
Date Posted: 21st October 2024
Series: The Missing Wingleader

Characters: M'gan, Nirzhaya
Description: M'gan remembers a risky experiment
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 2, day 18 of Turn 12
Notes: M'gan's past timing is council approved.

"Go on, then. Go back in time." The challenge in her voice was oddly
encouraging. At least she didn't sound discouraged any more, and if she
thought he was an idiot, he wasn't a boring idiot. She spun the book
around so that he could look at it. "Holinbridge Hold, before the plagues."

M'gan swallowed. He should have expected that, but he couldn't back out now.

"I'd need coordinates. Holds change their layout over the Turns, so we
can use a sketch map from the time." There was hardly a hold that hadn't
shrunk in size, leaving fields untended and barns to collapse into ruin,
if they hadn't been abandoned altogether. He frowned at the page. "There
isn't one here, but there might be something in the Wing records."

"Shells, you'd really try to do it." Nirzhaya's amusement vanished.
"M'gan, I was just making fun. There might not be any such thing as
timing, but /between/ is still dangerous. You could lose yourself trying
to go somewhere that's past and gone."

He wasn't so much of a fool that he hadn't realised that. His stomach
felt hollow with nerves, but something about her voice, the way she
sounded like she was speaking to a kid of fifteen or sixteen, brought
out all his natural stubbornness.

"Isarth says he can do it." He felt the bronze's excitement beneath his
own, and his keen desire to impress Lixanth. "But we'll try something
small first. Like if we go out to, I don't know, the big southern lake
and stay there a few hours. Then I'll come back a little after we left.
Use the sun's position to guide us."

Her eyes unfocused for a long, drawn-out moment, as she spoke silently
with her lifemate. "O...kay. If we take the dragons out to the lake
until evening, then go back, and I find you've been _here_ all afternoon
as well, then maybe I'll think about believing you." She sighed.
"Lixanth says you can't get into too much trouble just going home."

***

The green dragon emerged from /between/ over the coastal cliffs of Vista
Point, now golden-red in the evening sun, and her rider looked around
for their bronze companion. They'd left the lake only a moment before
her, but there was no sign of him. They waited as the seconds turned
into minutes, but the sky above the Weyrhold remained empty.

Nirzhaya felt as though she'd been plunged back into the dark chill
they'd just emerged from. Where were they? Had M'gan really tried to
jump back to the past and never made it out? He was a little annoying,
with his awkward attempts to impress her, but - oh shards, this was her
fault. She never should have let him try.

}:Isarth is here,:{ Lixanth reassured her.

**What?** She turned in her straps, as if the bronze might have appeared
behind them.

}:He is in his weyr. Asleep.:{

**But that's not possible. We were with him just now. He couldn't have
got back to his weyr ahead of us.**

The green's only response was a draconic, mental shrug, as if she didn't
see anything at all unusual about Isarth's current state.

**Quick, let's land. He said he'd go to the dining cavern.** She
frowned, trying to puzzle it out as the green glided down to make her
landing. The joke was on her, that was for sure. How had he done it?
There had to be a trick, but she couldn't see it. **He must be smarter
than I thought.**

Her feet had barely hit the ground before she was striding through the
arched entrance and into the corridor that led to the communal areas of
the Weyrhold. It was getting busy, since the hour for the evening meal
was approaching. Her eyes scanned the crowd for the bronzerider's tall
frame and reddish-brown hair, in case he was trying to sneak in ahead of
her.

The passage opened out into the dining cavern, where the long benches
were beginning to fill up, and then she did see him. He was sitting at
the table their Wing often used, with a couple of other wingriders on
either side. One of them was scooping up a handful of playing cards,
while the other counted his winnings, and M'gan refilled the klah mugs.

Nirzhaya strode over and spoke out before any of the three could get a
word in. "How long has _he_ been here?"

The two other riders gaped at her, then the brownrider nudged M'gan,
grinning. "Someone's in trouble!"

"How. _Long_."

"Uh, since just after noon meal?" The other man, a fellow greenrider,
raised an eyebrow. "I should know, I've just taken the best part of
three marks off him at dragon poker. He really hasn't been paying
attention." He thought back. "Maybe not the whole time. He did pop out
to the latrine once?"

Nirzhaya gave M'gan a pointed look. The bronzerider wore an innocent
smile, but there was a glint of suppressed excitement in his eyes, and
he paused before theatrically slapping a palm to his forehead.

"Oh, shells, I forgot. We were meant to go over the formations for
tomorrow's drill together. Sorry, sorry!" He pushed back his chair.
"Look, let's go over them quickly before dinner is served. There should
be time." He nodded at the two other riders and headed for a side table.

The greenrider hissed at him before they'd even sat down. "How did you
do that?" Her first thought was that the other two riders must be in on
it, but a quick check with Lixanth proved that Isarth, at least, had
been at Vista Point for some hours.

When he'd also been with _her_, at the lake, only ten minutes ago.

"It's like I said. I went back!" M'gan lowered his voice. "It's easy! We
went /between/ at the same time as you and Lixanth, but I pictured the
sun high in the sky, not low in the west, over the sea, and Isarth knew
what to do." He grinned. "No ill effects at all. I made sure it was
after noon so I wouldn't meet myself coming."

She shook her head in disbelief. "That's impossible."

"I can do it again if you want," he suggested, still taking in the
possibilities of this new ability. "I could go forward instead, to the
next gold flight. That ought to prove it. It's a good thing I'm too
honest to bet on the winner!"

"No, wait." Nirzhaya held up a hand, her head spinning. "Even if you
_are_ really going back in time, how can you jump more than a few hours?
The sun follows the same path every day."

"Not exactly, but you're right. The difference isn't big enough to be
precise." Classes with the starsmiths had been one of the few areas that
had interested M'gan as a weyrbrat, though he'd Impressed too early to
pursue the craft seriously. "But I've been thinking about that, and I've
got an idea. Hence why I lost so many marks to R'nu just now." He winced.

"Never mind that," she said, impatient. "What idea?"

"Star patterns!" M'gan beamed in triumph. If the jump /between/ times
hadn't impressed her, this surely would. "Every night, since time
immemorial, the starsmiths have recorded the night sky over the
Weyrhold. Most of the stars follow a fixed path through the Turn, but
there's the moons, and a few wanderers, including the baleful Red Star
of legend. If you know their positions, you can fix a date. Or the
reverse. You choose the date you want, and look up what the sky should
look like."

"So...you could go back to any date? As long as it was night."

He waved a hand. "Sure, but once you're there you could make a short
jump to the daytime. So, if you want that hold - what was it called?"

"Holinbridge."

"Right. How I'd do it would be, I'd make the big jump to the Weyrhold on
the right date, a little way down the coast so I don't get caught by the
watchrider of olden times. Then I use a plan of the hold from those days
to travel in distance only, no timing, get whatever it is you want to
know, and then back to the Weyrhold." He thought for a moment. "Better
not forget a star chart for the present day as well. I wouldn't want to
get stranded in my own childhood."

"Wait, slow down." Nirzhaya's dark eyes were suddenly intent, and she
leaned closer. "You really think you could go back to that Hold, what -
twenty Turns ago, before the plague hit? Talk to the people?" All sorts
of possibilities were occurring to her, almost too many to consider.

The bronzerider shrugged. "If it's what you need for your project, I'm
happy to help."

If it worked, it'd be more than just a journeyman project, but she kept
a hold on her hopes for now. "That won't work. Like I said, you don't
know what to look for, or ask. Shells, if you're not careful you'll
catch the plague yourself and bring it back here." She shook her head.
"No, if you do this, then I'm coming with you."

M'gan's expression froze. "Wait, you can't. I told you, it's dangerous."

"No more for me than for you. Unless you think Lixanth can't manage it?"
She met his gaze like a challenge. "Besides, I'm not convinced yet this
isn't some elaborate joke. I want to see for myself."

"But..."

"I'm serious, M'gan. Either fess up and tell me how you _really_ did it,
or I'm going. With or without you."

He stared at her, the panic rising. He couldn't tell her how he'd
tricked her when he hadn't! What if the Weyrlingmaster found out? Worse
still, what if she didn't make it?

"I..." He couldn't see any other way out. "All right. But we have to
practice first. It'll take me a day or so to find the charts and the old
coordinates in the Records. And we have to be careful what we say and do
while we're there. We can't change anything. We _definitely_ can't
mention the plague, or anything else from their future."

"I'm not stupid." Nirzhaya sat back in her chair, and her smile flashed
suddenly, like a sudden ray of light in the glow-lit cavern. "If this is
real, it's going to be the biggest adventure any dragonpair's ever had.
And even if it isn't, I've got to hand it to you, bronzerider. It's the
best prank on a new wingrider I've ever come across."

M'gan smiled, weakly, but he could felt his control of the situation
start to slip. The exhilaration of the successful jump was beginning to
wear off, and he had a troubling idea that he'd just made a terrible
mistake.

*** Present day ***

The sense of foreboding crept over M'gan once again as he turned over
the scrap of hide and examined the other star pattern, the one that
would have brought them home. Now that 'present' was further in his past
than their destination had been back then. A time that he'd told himself
was beyond his reach, no matter how much he wanted to go back and yell
at his younger self with all his authority as a Wingleader not to do it.
To keep his flaming mouth shut.

He'd always told himself he'd been lucky it hadn't been worse. Or so
he'd thought. But then there was this trader family, knowing his name
long before they should have. How could they? Unless...

"She went back," he said, his voice almost too low to be heard, though
he was alone in the weyr. Straightening, he replaced the papers and
closed the press.

But the scrap of old hide, with the pattern of the stars, went into his
pocket.

Last updated on the November 4th 2024

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The Pattern of the Stars (2/2)