From Publishers Weekly
Starred Review. The torch has been passed and burns more brightly than ever in this latest chapter of the venerable Pern saga, the first of what one hopes will be many solo efforts by the son of series creator Anne McCaffrey (Dragons of Pern). The narrative shifts smoothly between Wind Blossom, one of the original colonists of Pern, who's struggling to create a legacy for future generations before she dies, and Lorana, a young dragonrider born 450 years later with unusual talents for healing and telepathy. A genuinely spellbinding set of time travel puzzles and paradoxes is set against the moving backdrop of two populations struggling to survive: the children of the colonists, learning to live in a new world as they lose the technology of the old one, and the dragons of Lorana's time, who are dying of a mysterious plague just when they're needed to protect Pern. The strength of the two women and the mysterious connection between them is gradually revealed through a number of surprising and sometimes heartbreaking parallel occurrences. This stand-alone tale fits beautifully into the existing history and style of earlier books while still breaking new ground. Despite being geared toward the existing fan base, it will be quite accessible to new readers. In her introduction, the elder McCaffrey writes, "son, you done did good and me proud!" Even the most nepotism-wary will concur and eagerly look forward to the next installment. FYI:McCaffrey co-wrote the previous Pern novel, Dragon's Kin (2003), with his mother.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
After coauthoring Dragon's Kin [BKL S 15 03] with his mother, Anne, McCaffrey smoothly accepts the torch from her to further chronicle the world of the Dragonriders of Pern, her most famous creation. The story alternates between two times--the immediate present, more than 500 turns since the first landing on Pern, and 400 turns earlier, when geneticist Wind Blossom, whose mother had created the dragons, was still alive. The situation in the later period is dire: thread is falling, and the dragons are sickening and dying. Only Wind Blossom can save the dragons, and that seems impossible. Time is the literal cure, however, and making the impossible possible is the bond that Lorana, a marvelous young woman of the present, makes with Wind Blossom by reaching back in time to come up with the cure. McCaffrey convincingly spins a dramatic, thoroughly captivating tale, steeped in the lore and well-drawn characterizations of the people and the dragons for which the Pern novels are prized. Fans old and new will be delighted by his continuance of a beloved saga. Sally Estes
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
Review
Praise for Dragonsblood
“Todd McCaffrey does something I didn’t think anyone could do; he writes Anne McCaffrey’s Pern. Not just a novel set in Pern, but Pern. The people, the places, the characters and challenges. This is Pern, in the hands of a new master-grade Harper, carefully trained in the old traditions, but scoring his own ballads. May the saga continue!”
–DAVID WEBER, New York Times bestselling author of The Shadow of Saganami
“Dragonsblood is a strong, lively story, with vivid, interesting characters and plenty of exciting action. Todd has captured the tone as well as the familiar settings of the Pern books. Pern fans (and newcomers to the Pern universe) have reason to rejoice.”
–ELIZABETH MOON, Nebula Award—winning author of Marque and Reprisal
“For Pern lovers, the good news is that Todd McCaffrey has inherited his mother’s storytelling ability. His dragons and firelizards, his harpers in Harper’s Hall, carry on the great traditions–and add much to them. Huzzah, Todd! You have learned wisdom indeed.”
–JANE YOLEN, award-winning author of Briar Rose
“Dragonsblood is cause for celebration! A worthy addition to one of the grandest traditions in the literature of the fantastic, this is a lock-the-door, take-the-phone-off-the-hook, send-the-kids-out-to-play, curl-up-and-enjoy adventure!”
–DAVID GERROLD, author of Blood and Fire
“The torch has been passed and burns more brightly than ever in this latest chapter of the venerable Pern saga, the first of what one hopes will be many solo efforts by the son of series creator Anne McCaffrey. . . . This stand-alone tale fits beautifully into the existing history and style of earlier books while still breaking new ground.”
–Publishers Weekly(starred review)
“McCaffrey convincingly spins a dramatic, thoroughly captivating tale, steeped in the lore and well-drawn characterizations of the people and the dragons for which the Pern novels are prized. Fans old and new will be delighted by his continuance of a beloved saga.”
–Booklist
About the Author
TODD MCCAFFREYwas born in the United States, but he spent his teenage years in Ireland, where his mother moved in 1970. After a stint in the U.S. Army, he followed his love of computers to build a career as a computer engineer. His true love is writing, though. Having grown up with the Dragonriders of Pern, he is bursting with ideas for new stories of that world, its people, and its dragons.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
ONE
Red Star at night:
Firestone, dig,
Harness, rig,
Dragons take flight.
Fort Weyr, at the end of the Second Interval, After Landing (AL) 507
Four men stood in a knot around the Star Stones of Fort Weyr. The sun was just above the horizon, casting the harsh shadows of early dawn at winter’s end. Each man wore the prestigious shoulder knots of Weyrleader. Their warm wher-hide jackets proclaimed them the leaders of Benden, Fort, Telgar, and Ista Weyrs.
K’lior, Fort’s Weyrleader, was host and the youngest present. He was also the newest Weyrleader, having gained his position less than a Turn before.
He glanced back to the Star Stones—to the Eye Rock, which bracketed the Finger Rock, which itself was lit by the baleful Red Star. Thread was coming. Soon.
The air was made more chilly by the steady breeze blowing across the plateau where Fort’s Star Stones were placed. K’lior suppressed a shiver. “Fort is still wing light. We’ve only had the one clutch—”
“There’s time yet, K’lior,” C’rion, Ista’s Weyrleader, judged. He pointed at the Red Star and the Eye Rock. “Thread won’t fall until after the last frost.”
“There’s no doubt, then, that Thread is coming,” K’lior said, wishing the other Weyrleaders would disagree with him.
For over two hundred Turns, the planet of Pern had been free of the threat of Thread falling from the sky.
Now that peace would end.
The Red Star’s return would bring the Thread that would try, once more, to devour all life on Pern.
For the next fifty Turns, the dragons would rise to the skies, flame Thread into lifeless char, or, failing, watch in horror as it burrowed into the rich soil of Pern to destroy all organic material with mindless voracity.
“Telgar’s ready, K’lior,” D’gan declared. He turned back from the Star Stones and the dawning light to gaze at the others, who were obscured by the sharp shadows of the early morning light. His words were firmly emphasized by the distant rumbling of his bronze, Kaloth. “My wings are at full strength and I’ve two clutches on the Hatching Grounds—”
One of the other Weyrleaders cleared his throat loudly, but D’gan’s fierce glare could not pierce the shadows to identify the culprit.
“Yes, we were lucky,” he continued in answer to the unknown heckler, “but the fact remains that Telgar will be wing heavy when Thread falls. And our holders have tithed fully so we’ve no lack of equipment or firestone.”
K’lior shifted uneasily, for he had been frank in relaying his difficulties in getting Fort’s full tithe. “But you don’t agree to pooling resources?” he asked again.
He had called this meeting of the Weyrleaders to propose just that. As none of them had ever fought Thread, K’lior felt that his notion of “fly together, learn together” had merit, and would promote communication among the Weyrs. He was shocked when D’vin of High Reaches had refused the invitation and was even further shocked by D’gan’s attitude. Telgar’s Weyrleader was Igen-bred, after all. K’lior had hoped that D’gan’s experience would have made him more amenable to working together, not less.
D’gan favored the wiry Fort Weyrleader with a superior look. “If you’re still wing light when Thread falls, K’lior, I’m sure I could spare some of my own.”
“I’ll bet they’re all bronzes,” a voice muttered dryly. It came from the direction of the Benden and Istan Weyrleaders.
The implication that D’gan might want to reduce the competition for Telgar’s next mating flight was obvious. Not that D’gan’s Kaloth had to fly all Telgar’s queen dragons to remain Weyrleader—just the senior queen.
D’gan stiffened angrily at the remark, turned to K’lior, and said, “I’ve a Weyr to attend, Fort. I must return.”
“Let me call someone to guide your way, D’gan,” K’lior offered pleasantly, worried about slippery walkways under unfamiliar feet.
The offer annoyed D’gan, who snapped, “I can find my own dragon well enough, Fort.”
K’lior jogged after D’gan, still hoping to soothe the other’s foul mood.
“C’rion, you know he’s got a thin skin. Why do you insist on pricking it?” M’tal asked the Istan Weyrleader in exasperation.
C’rion chuckled at the Benden Weyrleader’s remark. “Oh, you know, M’tal, he’s not all that bad—when he stops taking himself so seriously. I feel it’s my duty as an older, more experienced Weyrleader, to spill the wind from his sails when he takes on airs like that.”
“D’gan is the sort to swear his Egg cracked the wrong way,” M’tal agreed.
C’rion snorted a laugh. “I suspect that D’gan will be a lot more acceptable after his first dose of numbweed. And K’lior will steady up after his first Threadfall.”
M’tal pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I’m not so sure about D’gan.”
C’rion shrugged. “I’ve been worried ever since it was decided to abandon Igen Weyr and incorporate those dragonriders into Telgar.”
“It made sense at the time,” M’tal said, “what with the drought in Igen, the death of their last queen, and the good harvests at Telgar.”
C’rion raised a hand to ward off further discussion. “All true. But D’gan himself worries me. He drills his riders hard. Telgar Weyr has never lost the Games since he became Weyrleader—but will all that be worth anything when Thread comes?”
M’tal nodded emphatically. “If there’s one thing I could never imagine, it would be D’gan shirking his duty. We dragonriders know what to expect when Thread comes.” He waved a hand at the Star Stones. “And we know it will come soon.”
“I hear your queen laid a large clutch last week,” C’rion said, changing the topic. “Congratulations.”
M’tal laughed. “Are you going to make me an offer like our esteemed Telgar?”
“No, actually, I was going to offer a trade,” C’rion said.
M’tal motioned for him to continue.
“Two queen eggs, by all accounts,” C’rion said. “That would make four queens all told.”
“No, one of the eggs is a bronze,” M’tal said. “We’d hopes at first, but Breth nudged it back with the others.” The queen dragons always pushed their queen eggs into a special spot on the Hatching Grounds, which they carefully guarded.
“All the same . . .”
“Are you looking for new blood, C’rion?”
“It’s the job of every Weyrleader to see to the strength of the Weyr,” C’rion agreed. “Actually, I was thinking that to honor a new queen requires a good selection of candidates. I’m sure you’ll want to Search for a proper Weyrwoman.”
M’tal burst out laughing. “It’s J’trel, isn’t it? You want to pawn that old scoundrel off on us!”
“Actually, yes,” C’rion agreed with a laugh of his own. “But he’s not a scoundrel. And it’s no lie that his blue has an eye for good riders, especially the women.”
“Which is odd, considering his own preferences,” M’tal remarked.
“Well, you know blues,” C’rion agreed diffidently. As blue dragons mated with green dragons, and both were ridden by male riders, the riders themselves tended to be the sort who could accommodate the dragons’ amorous arrangements.
“And you want to get him away from Ista so he can forget about K’nad,” M’tal surmised. K’nad and J’trel had been partners for over twenty Turns.
“K’nad went quickly,” C’rion agreed, “it was a blessing. He was very old, you know.”
Less than a dozen Turns older than you, M’tal thought to himself dryly. Somberly he also realized: And only fifteen Turns older than me.
Aloud, he said, “So you want J’trel distracted by new duties?”
C’rion nodded. “It would be easier for us at Ista, too. Thread is coming. It’s going to be hard on the old-timers.”
There was an uneasy silence. M’tal shook himself. “I’ll have to talk it over with Salina and the Wingleaders.”
“Of course,” C’rion replied. “There’s no hurry.”
Curious, M’tal asked, “Where is J’trel now?”
C’rion shrugged. “I don’t know. He and his blue took off after the ceremony for K’nad.” He frowned. “He had that look in his eyes, the one he usually gets just before Ista finds itself with a whole bunch of the biggest fresh fruit you’ve ever seen.”
“He hasn’t been going to the Southern Continent, has he?” M’tal asked with a frown of his own. Dragonriders were discouraged from venturing to the Southern Continent with all its unknown dangers.
“I’ve made it a point never to ask,” C’rion answered dryly. “You really have to try the fruit.”
Lorana sat on her knees, ignoring the hot sun beating down on her, all her attention concentrated on the tiny creature in front of her. Sketching swiftly, Lorana used her free hand altern...
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