Anne Mccaffrey_ Dragonriders of Pern 20 Read Online Free PDF

beside the road to brown mush, but the packed surface of the road was too hard on their feet so they stuck with the slick and muddy path. A noise from behind them startled them all, with Verilan losing his footing and Kindan plowing into him. Both went down and came up covered in muck and mud. Kelsa took one look at their bedraggled appearance and burst into giggles.
    “You two!” she said, still giggling. “You look like you’ve been out making mud pies.”
    Nonala said nothing, but she couldn’t keep a smile from her lips.
    Verilan scowled at them. Kindan, meanwhile, had turned around to spot the source of the noise. It was difficult in the fog and rain. Finally he made out a huge dark shape in the distance.
    “A dragon!”
    “What will we do?” Nonala moaned. “We’re not fit to greet him.”
    “Well, we can’t just turn away,” Verilan said, his last word breaking into a cough.
    Kindan nodded and started walking toward the dragon, searching for its rider. The others followed reluctantly, Nonala occasionally making small distressed noises to herself.
    As they approached, the figure of a tall man carrying a heavy object resolved itself out of the rain.
    “Kindan!” the rider exclaimed. It was M’tal, Benden’s Weyrleader. “Just who I was looking for—” He stopped as he took in the sight of their mud-covered bodies. His mouth quirked into a grin. “Slipped?”
    Kindan grunted and smiled back. “Yes, my lord.”
    “It’s M’tal to you,” the Weyrleader replied firmly. He nodded to the three figures huddling behind him. “Who are your friends?”
    Kindan turned to introduce them. “This is Nonala, that’s Kelsa, and this—” He was interrupted briefly when Verilan erupted into another coughing fit. “—is Verilan.”
    “You should see the healer, immediately,” M’tal said, his voice suddenly full of concern. He moved toward Verilan, then suddenly remembered his burden and thrust it toward Kindan. “Carry this, while I carry him,” he instructed.
    “No, no, I’m all right,” Verilan protested, horrified at the thought of the dragonrider getting covered in mud.
    “No, you’re not,” Nonala told him. M’tal nodded in agreement, grabbing Verilan by the waist and hoisting him off the ground. He carried the boy like a small child.
    “You’re lighter than a sack of firestone,” he assured the horror-stricken young harper. With a smile, M’tal said to Kindan, “And, thanks to your friend, firestone can get as wet as you are now.”
    Verilan glanced in surprise at Kindan.
    Somewhat guiltily, Kindan realized that he hadn’t had time since his return to the Harper Hall to fill his friends in on the discovery that there were two types of firestone: the traditional firestone, which exploded on contact with water, and the newly rediscovered firestone, which didn’t explode when in contact with water—the firestone that had given the fire-lizards their name.
    “Firestone explodes when wet,” Verilan declared stubbornly.
    “Not anymore,” M’tal assured him as they trudged under the arches of the Harper Hall.
    “Wow, Kindan!” Verilan called over the dragonrider’s shoulder.
    “Yes, wow, Kindan, why didn’t you tell your friends?” Kelsa repeated sourly, glaring at him. Kindan made a helpless, apologetic gesture, which only earned him a further glare.
    “Kindan, you’ll need to get your bundle to a hearth,” M’tal said, “and I’ll need one of you others to guide me to the infirmary.”
    “A hearth?” Nonala asked, glancing closely at the bundle Kindan was carrying. For the first time, Kindan noticed the bundle in his arms; he’d been more concerned with Verilan. It was heavy, and wrapped well in thick wher-hide. There was some sort of bucket inside the wrapping—he could feel the shape pressing through the fabric.
    “They need to be kept warm,” M’tal said. “I’m afraid I could only get two for the Harper Hall; the rest are for Lord Holder