Dragonheart

That’s all right,  Fiona looked at the small ugly creature and felt a sense of wonder that such a beast was related to the dragons. She carefully tamped down her feelings to keep Talenth from picking up on them and alarming the baby watch-wher. Do you like her?

She’s nice,  Talenth told her. Can she sleep with me?

She’s likely to twitch,  Fiona cautioned, thinking that watch-whers were probably enough like newborn dragonets that sleeping would be her principle occupation.

“Talenth wants to know if Nuellask can sleep with her,” she told Nuella.

Nuella laughed. “Youngsters are the same whether two legs or four, always wanting to play together or sleep together.” She caressed the baby watch-wher’s head affectionately before adding, “We’ll see how she feels when we get back.”

Fiona nodded. “Are you ready to go?”

“I think the sooner the better,” Nuella replied, gesturing toward Nuellask. “You never know when she’ll fall asleep.”

Talenth, tell T’mar that we’re ready to go,  Fiona told her dragon.

He knows,  Talenth replied a moment later. They come.

Fiona heard the rustle of dragon’s wings and saw Zirenth land nimbly. The sound alerted Zenor who rushed over from the next weyr.

“All set?” he asked, glancing from Nuella to Fiona. He gestured at the watch-wher. “Are we bringing her?”

“Of course,” Nuella told him. “She’s still small enough that I can just about hold her in my arms.”

“Another sevenday and she’ll be too big,” Fiona said with a laugh.

“I’ve got a bucket of scraps,” Zenor said, wagging the bucket hanging from his hand, “just in case she gets hungry.”

“Can Zirenth handle four and a watch-wher?” Fiona asked T’mar.

“Certainly,” he said. He couldn’t hide the pride in his voice.

In a few minutes they were all settled, Nuellask nestled comfortably between Zenor and Nuella, Fiona behind her, and T’mar in the rear, Fiona’s crutches once again strapped below him. T’mar had quickly constructed a harness of spare rope with which to hold the watch-wher securely and had been scrupulous in ensuring that all the humans were properly strapped.

“Precious cargo,” he murmured to Fiona before signaling Zirenth to rise.

Between  was a refreshing break from the dying heat of the Igen day, quickly replaced by the cool night air of the wherhold.

“Nuellask liked it,” T’mar reported to Nuella. “She asked if we could do it again soon.”

“Soon,” Nuella promised the small watch-wher. “Right now we’re going to meet some new friends.”

“Should I come or wait here?” T’mar asked Fiona as he set her on her crutches.

“Come,” Fiona said. “I’m not sure I can get around all that well in the dark.”

The baby queen watch-wher let out a sudden squawk that reverberated in the night air and startled them all.

“Zirenth says that she felt others,” T’mar reported.

“Good girl, Nuellask!” Zenor said. “You let them all know who’s the queen!”

Nuellask chirped in pleased acknowledgment.

“Well, we don’t have to worry about making ourselves known,” Fiona murmured to T’mar as they moved forward. Zenor guided Nuella, who herself was guiding Nuellask, while T’mar hovered close by Fiona’s side.

“That’s a pleasant sound,” a voice called from the darkness in front of them. Fiona recognized Arella’s voice.

“Why are you on crutches, girl?” Jaythen growled from a place so close to them that Fiona stumbled in surprise. “Did you trip?”

“A dog bit me,” Fiona replied testily.

“I’ll bet the dog died of shame right after,” Jaythen replied with a raspy laugh.

“An arrow,” Fiona told him. “But he wasn’t dead until after Talenth spoke.”

“Your dragon killed a dog?” Jaythen asked incredulously.

“No,” Fiona said. “She startled him enough that the bowman could get a proper aim.”

“And the girl bonded?” Arella asked. “Is that her?”

“I’m Nuella.”

“I’d heard you were blind,” Jaythen said, surprised.

“I am,” Nuella said. “But in the dark everyone is blind, except the watch-whers.”

“You’re the one who rode a green between ?” Jaythen demanded.

“Yes,” Nuella replied, adding, “Are you always this demanding of your guests?”

“Don’t get many guests,” Jaythen replied.

“I can see why,” Zenor murmured.

“We came to discuss the move,” Fiona said.

“You did it? It’s settled?” Arella asked.

“We’ve found a good site, and the Mastersmith has agreed to send some crafters,” Zenor said.

“Mastersmith?” Jaythen repeated. “What does he have to do with the wherhold?”

“Not with the wherhold,” Zenor corrected. “With the gold we’ll be mining there.”

“Gold?” Jaythen repeated, and there was no mistaking the surprise in his voice. “There’s gold there?”

“There is,” Zenor replied. “We came to talk about how soon you can move there.”

“How many are there?” Nuella asked, turning her head in search of faint sounds. “I hear the children and one man. Are there others?”

“She’s good,” Arella declared approvingly. “There’s only four adults: me, Jaythen here, Jifar, and Serella.”

“Silstra and Terregar will join us from the Smith Hall,” Zenor said. “They have one youngster, and we’ve Nuella’s sister, Larissa.”

“We’ve five children,” Jaythen said. “We lost three to the Plague.”

“Would have lost more if Kindan hadn’t sent the dragonriders,” Arella added.

“Kindan was my best friend growing up,” Zenor said. “He gave his watch-wher to Nuella.”

“So you’re a miner, then,” Jaythen commented. “No watchwher of your own?”

“I’ve enough to do keeping her out of trouble,” Zenor said, jerking a thumb toward Nuella, who elbowed him goodnaturedly in response.

Jaythen laughed. “I’ll bet you do.”

“Come in,” Arella said, “and we’ll talk plans.”

Fiona smiled to herself, convinced that the wherfolk would follow Nuella’s lead and accept Zenor’s aid.

“I think things wouldn’t have gone so well if we hadn’t brought the watch-wher,” T’mar said much later as he helped Fiona negotiate the ramp up to her weyr. Talenth raised her head wearily but still asked, Can the watch-wher sleep with me?

She’s already asleep,  Fiona told her apologetically. And I think she wants to sleep with her mate.  She saw the glow of her queen’s eyes and added, How about I sleep with you tonight instead?

Will you?

“You can leave me here, wingleader,” Fiona told T’mar as she curled herself up against Talenth, “we girls are spending the night together.”

“I’ll get you a blanket,” T’mar offered.

“If you see Terin, please tell her she’s welcome to join us.” Fiona pulled off her jacket and bundled it under her neck, idly wondering if she was treating the Weyrwoman’s garb inappropriately. She shook her head at herself and nestled more tightly against the fur lining; she was too weary to let decorum concern her.

She was already asleep by the time T’mar returned, carrying a sleeping Terin in his arms, a pair of blankets draped over his shoulders. He smiled down at the young Weyrwoman and arranged the drowsy headwoman next to