Dragonheart

farther, brought the stars and the two moons to shine and passed it to her dragon. Talenth, let’s go here!

Her heart leapt in her mouth as the cold nothingness of between  enveloped them and she began counting in her mind, remembering that between  only lasts as long as it takes to cough three times. Three times! Was it more? Had she —

They burst out of the nothingness into the warm night, Talenth bugling joyously, answered by a chorus of watch-whers below.

Talenth, please convey our greetings to Nuellask, then let’s land.

As they descended, Fiona caught sight of many large eyes glowing up at her and directed Talenth to land near the smaller pair in the middle.

“Weyrwoman!” Nuella called gladly as Talenth landed and Fiona jumped down. “I heard you would be coming.”

“This is my first time between, ” Fiona cried as she rushed over to hug Nuella. “I wanted to come to you and Nuellask.”

“Why is it, Weyrwoman, that you make your first flight between  at night when all the others came by day?” Nuella wondered.

“Well,” Fiona said with a shrug, “Nuellask would be asleep at midday, and it didn’t seem fair to disturb you like that.”

Nuella chuckled.

“Well, you’ve done it and now you’d best get back and take T’mar’s rightful ire,” Arella told her, shaking her head, muttering as she turned away, “If all Weyrwomen were like you . . .”

With a final hug, Fiona took her leave of Nuella and climbed back on Talenth.

So soon?  Talenth asked in surprise as Fiona urged her upward again.

I don’t want us to get caught,  Fiona replied, giving Talenth the original image she’d received from J’gerd and instructing her to go between  once more.

The time was shorter or Fiona had grown more used to it, for she emerged in the hot midday sun near J’gerd. She waved and he waved back, grinning, while she had Talenth wheel in a tight circle on her wingtip and gave her the coordinates for J’keran and the Star Stones.

They burst back out exactly where Fiona had imagined and she cried with glee, waving carelessly to J’keran before starting her descent into the Weyr Bowl.

It was only as she surveyed the ground below her that she noticed that something had changed. The hatchlings had been dispersed to their weyrs, their riders arranged in a tight knot, T’mar and the older weyrlings standing grimly in front of them.

Fiona’s sense of triumph faded as she took in the scene. What had happened?

She dismounted and strode over to T’mar with a questioning look on her face.

T’mar turned away from her angrily, addressing the younger weyrlings.

“There is always some idiot  who thinks they are special,” he told them icily. “Some dimglow who thinks that drills are too much effort, that they know everything.”

He turned back to Fiona, glaring at her.

“Fortunately,” he went on, turning once more to the weyrlings, “we have a solution for this sort of behavior.” He paused for a long while, long enough for the sense of dread and shame to lodge deep in Fiona’s chest, sucking all the joy of her unauthorized adventure right out of her.

“Our Weyrwoman has volunteered to man the Star Stones for the next month,” T’mar told the collected group gravely. “That will enable the rest of us to continue our training.” He paused. “We are done for today. Go about your duties.”

As the riders dissolved into smaller groups, none passed near Fiona, none looked at her, none spoke to her or acknowledged her existence in any way.

Talenth, I’m sorry!  Fiona called to her dragon.

You are the Weyrwoman,  Talenth responded in a tone of confusion. You are my rider. You can do nothing wrong.

This time I did,  Fiona admitted miserably. I am the Werywoman. I neglected my duty to the Weyr; my duty to set the example.

When the others were out of earshot, T’mar approached her. “There’s always one idiot,” he repeated. “I knew it would be you.”

“That’s why you sent me last,” Fiona guessed, her heart falling deeper into her chest.

T’mar nodded curtly, his eyes boring into hers as they welled with tears, and then he glanced away and strode off briskly without another word.

If T’mar’s treatment was bad, Terin’s outburst that evening was even worse.

“What if you hadn’t  come back?” the young headwoman demanded. “How would I survive? How would I live?”

Nothing Fiona could say would console the girl, who stormed out of her weyr and slept elsewhere that night.

As Fiona curled up tightly in her cold bed and tried to find some warmth, she reviewed the day, castigating herself for her foolishness, for her selfishness, for her stupidity in thinking that she could fool T’mar. Sleep overwhelmed her at last.

The next month passed slowly for Fiona. She apologized the very next day to every rider in the Weyr, twice to T’mar, and three times to Terin. Azeez and Mother Karina eyed her pityingly, but she said nothing to them, taking her punishment as it was meant.

However wrong she’d been, she was the Weyrwoman, and she refused to allow her shame to keep her from her duties. In fact, she redoubled her efforts in response.

She duly took the hot and bothersome duty of watch dragon at the Star Stones, convinced that she was probably the only Weyrwoman ever so condemned.

As the rest of the weyrlings drilled in recognition points, Fiona found herself continually worried about their return, continually standing as an example of what not to do. She wore her best garb as a tribute to their efforts and, wordlessly at first, then verbally, expressed her praise and growing confidence as the weyrlings came and returned again and again from their journeys between  until she wondered how she could ever have thought the journey dangerous.

In the last sevenday of her punishment, Fiona found herself actually looking forward to the duty, finding it a time where she could spend hours in thought and moments in short communication with returning riders. Her thoughts were occupied by considering the stores for the Weyr, the trade with the outlying holds, and the functioning of the Weyr.

Terin had returned to sleeping in the queen’s weyr on the third day of Fiona’s punishment, her complaint of, “It’s too cold with the others!” fooling neither of them. Now she took to climbing the long flights of stairs up to the Star Stones to bring Fiona food and snacks and, occasionally, to share in the watch, often perched in front of Fiona on Talenth’s neck.

Fiona turned as she heard Terin’s approach and wondered idly how she was going to handle the younger girl’s imminent womanhood. Fiona had noticed how Terin had started eyeing the older weyrlings and had teased her gently about it, adding her own cogent observations to ease Terin’s embarrassment but she was worried that, being the only eligible partner for most of the riders at the Weyr, Terin might find herself overwhelmed with offers or worse — frightened by the intensity of emotion if one of the older greens took to the skies in a mating flight.

It was something that concerned Fiona about herself, too. Neither Talenth nor the greens of her clutch were old enough yet to rise, but those of J’keran’s older dragons might rise again at any moment. How would Terin react when the emotions of a mating flight combined with her growing emotions as a woman? How would Fiona?

And, Fiona admitted with a deep sigh, how would she react to Talenth rising? She wasn’t ready for it, she admitted to herself, and it scared her.

Terin bounded into view and Fiona shook her worries out of her head, producing a grateful smile and leaning down from her perch to help the younger girl climb up.

“They’re doing in and outs,” Fiona told her, meaning that the weyrlings were now practicing jumping rapidly between  the Weyr and all the other recognition points.