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the river.
    “Thread eats wood, too; that’d be no use. Stone, metal . . .
water
!” Crenden stood in his stirrups, pointing down to the river that frothed along its rocky bed.
    “That?” Readis responded. “Not deep enough, and far too fast!”
    “But there’s a pool, a big one, near the first cascade. If we could make that . . . Jayge, scoot along. See how far away that pool is. Challer, whip up that team and follow Jayge as fast as you can. Readis, unhitch the beasts from that timber wagon. We can’t save it, but we’ll need the beasts.
Move out! Whip’em up!”
    Jayge dug his heels into Fairex’s side. Why did they have to be caught on this part of the track? On the one day’s trek through forest and hill that could provide no real shelter? He knew the pool his father meant—it was a good fishing spot, and it would be deep with all the winter rains shedding from the hills, But a pool? That was no real shelter from Threadfall. Jayge knew the Teaching songs as well as any kid of Pern, and it was stone walls and stout metal shutters that one needed during Threadfall. As the track rose to the crest of a hill, the deep basin came into view, its waters sparkling invitingly. Thread could devour flesh. How deep did one have to be under water to be safe?
    Jayge lifted Fairex into a hard gallop, counting in rhythm with the little beast’s strides so that he could judge the time it would take to reach the pool. He kept watching the banks and the track, hoping that he might notice a rock ledge or even a burrow. They could put the babies in the burrows. How long did a Fall last? Jayge was so agitated that he could not bring the Traditional Duty ballads to mind.
    It would have to be the pool then, he thought as he and Fairex plunged down the incline. Fifteen minutes even for the biggest, heaviest wagon. And there was a line of big boulders that formed a natural dam—he could see the current flowing smoothly over the lip. He kicked Fairex on into the water to test its depth. The gallant little mare was swimming in moments, and Jayge plunged off her back, shuddering at the chill in the water and bobbing under as his feet found no purchase. Deep enough! Everyone but the wee babies could swim. But swim where? Jayge yanked on Fairex’s rein, and obediently she circled to face the river’s edge. When he saw her hit the bottom, he swung himself up into the saddle and started her back the way they had just come.
    He could hear the sounds of the train echoing loudly down the valley: the thunder of hooves and wagon wheels, the urgency of strident calls. Jayge thanked the Dawn Sisters that all the wagons had been scrupulously checked before they had left Kimmage Hold. Now was not the time for a wheel to spin off or an axle to break. He only hoped the burden beasts could be forced out of their usual plodding pace.
    Jayge kept his eyes on the cloud as he raced back. What were those gouts of flame? It looked like thousands of flameflies, the nocturnal creatures he and his friends had tried to capture in Nerat’s lush jungles. And then he realized what he was seeing. Dragons! Benden Weyr’s dragonriders were flying Thread! As dragonriders should! As dragonriders always had and now were again, protecting Pern from Threadfall. Jayge felt a surge of relief that was instantly overwhelmed by confusion. If the dragonriders were already flaming Thread from the skies, why would the traders need the river pool?
    “Worlds are lost or worlds are saved, by those dangers dragon-braved?” The verse sprang to Jayge’s mind, but it was not the one he wanted. “Lord of the hold, your charge is sure, in thick walls, metal doors, and no verdure.” But Lilcamp folk were holdless.
    Then his father came galloping around the bend, Challer’s rig nearly at his heels.
    “The pool’s just down this hill . . .” Jayge began.
    “I can see it myself. Tell the others!” Crenden waved his son back down the line.
    The other wagons were strung