Dragonheart

“They’ll be exhausted tonight,” Terin replied, pulling a roll out of her carisak and passing it back to Fiona.

“And hungry before that,” Fiona agreed.

“I’ve got the young ones tending the meal,” Terin said. “Stew, so there’s little chance they’ll burn it.”

“That’s good!” Fiona agreed.

“What are the traders going to do when we leave?” Terin asked.

“They’ll manage,” Fiona replied, unconcerned. To ease Terin’s worried look, she added, “They’ve managed before, haven’t they?”

Terin shrugged in agreement. “What about us?”

Fiona raised an eyebrow inquiringly.

“What are we going to do when we get back?” Terin expanded. “I mean, I know everyone calls me headwoman — ”

“And with good reason,” Fiona cut across her firmly, surprised to hear the younger girl bring up that old worry.

“But when I get back, I’ll just be another weyrgirl,” Terin said. She frowned as she added, “And what about Xhinna?”

“I don’t know,” Fiona replied slowly. She hated to admit to herself that she’d forgotten about Xhinna in the course of the crowded last two Turns. Musingly, she said, “You’ll be as old as she is when we return.”

“It’ll only be three days for her.”

“For everyone,” Fiona agreed, bringing up the image that she’d already started rehearsing of Fort Weyr with the sun and the moons in exactly the right position. For all that she regretted her rash jump between  times to visit Nuella, she was glad to know that she could trust her imaging and certain that she could, even now, without further practice, easily jump forward once more in time back to Fort Weyr.

Fiona thought back to Terin’s remark. How would Cisca view Fiona when they returned? Talenth would be ready to mate; Fiona would have had all these Turns of experience running a Weyr — could she ever be happy again following someone else’s orders? Or did she, now that she’d tasted it, see herself only as senior Weyrwoman?

“There’ll be a place for you,” Fiona said realizing that her brooding silence was only making Terin more anxious. “And I guarantee, when Talenth clutches, I’ll have you on the Hatching Grounds.”

“What about Xhinna?”

“Her, too,” Fiona said. “You both deserve it.”

“But she’ll never Impress a queen!”

“No, probably not,” Fiona said with a thoughtful shake of her head. “But even K’lior and Cisca feel that she could Impress a green or maybe even a blue.”

“A blue?” Terin repeated in surprise.

“No one will know until we try,” Fiona replied with a shrug.

A flurry of dragons came through, landing at the end of their exercise. Soon everyone had returned, dragons were dispersing back to the weyrling barracks, and only Zirenth remained with T’mar, who sat eyeing the events from his lofty position atop his dragon.

Fiona was surprised when Zirenth launched himself again and flew up toward the Star Stones. She waved cheerfully at the wingleader, but instead of waving back, he brought Zirenth in for a landing beside Talenth.

T’mar dismounted and climbed up Talenth’s foreleg, one arm holding onto the riding straps to support him.

“Have you noticed anything odd about Sarinth?” T’mar asked her meaningfully.

Sarinth was V’lex’s green.

“She seemed eager to please today,” Fiona replied, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “And . . . maybe a bit more distracted than usual.”

“She’s going to rise, isn’t she?” Terin asked, her eyes wide.

“It’s possible,” T’mar said with a deep sigh.

“I’ve seen three mating flights,” Terin boasted, her eyes shining. “They were fun!”

“You’re getting older,” Fiona reminded her.

“I’m more concerned about the traders,” T’mar replied, “particularly the children.”

“Didn’t they have fire-lizards before?” Fiona asked rhetorically. T’mar’s expression remained grim, so Fiona added diplomatically, “I don’t see any reason why we can’t talk with them tonight.”

T’mar looked only partly relieved. “Have you . . . ?”

Fiona smiled at his awkward discomfort and shook her head sadly. “Fire was too young to rise, but there were plenty of firelizards at the Harper Hall.” She glanced into his eyes and, in that moment, quashed her fears. “I think I’ll manage.”

“Good,” T’mar replied, lips pursed tightly. “Good.” He paused a moment before saying, “You’ve done well here with the weyrlings.”

“It’s been fun,” Fiona agreed. “I’ve learned a lot.”

“I thought you might,” T’mar said with a sly grin. Fiona glanced at him sharply, then roared with laughter.

“There’s . . . always . . . one!” she choked out between gales of laughter, pointing her finger at him accusingly.

T’mar went bright red, then hung his head for a moment before raising it to meet Fiona’s eyes, nodding in honest admission.

Terin glanced back and forth between the two of them mystified over the exchange until Fiona explained, “T’mar was speaking from experience when he said there’s always one idiot who thinks he is special.”

“You  were the idiot?” Terin asked T’mar in surprise.

T’mar nodded guiltily, recovering enough to say to Fiona, “Did you learn your lesson as well as I did?”

“I think so.”

“Good,” T’mar replied. “Then tomorrow — if we aren’t interrupted — you may join us.”

Early the next morning the air was punctuated by a raucous cry, startling Fiona, Terin, and Talenth awake.

Sarinth is blooding her kills,  Talenth reported, her tone a mixture of confusion and excitement.

Fiona felt the same excitement as she glanced toward Terin, who returned her look with a grin. “This is going to be fun!”

“We should go help,” Fiona replied. Talenth, stay here.

Talenth agreed reluctantly as Fiona and Terin dressed hastily, trotted out of the weyr, and jumped over the ledge into the Bowl below, where they made their way toward the cluster of riders loosely gathered around the feed pens at the lake’s edge.

“Don’t let her gorge!” a rider called encouragingly to V’lex, who looked confused and overwhelmed by his dragon’s passion.

“I can’t — she’s — ” V’lex replied miserably, his hands held out beseechingly, his chest heaving rapidly.

Fiona parted the crowd, dragging Terin behind her. “Grab his other hand,” Fiona told her as she reached for V’lex’s left hand, pivoting around to stand in his sight.

“V’lex,” she said, “look at me.”

V’lex forced his eyes to focus on her.

“You can do this,” she told him encouragingly. “Breathe, V’lex.” She took a deep breath herself in illustration. “That’s it! Now focus on Sarinth. She must only blood her kills — she can’t gorge.”

“She’s fighting me!” V’lex wailed. Fiona caught the fear in his voice, the sense of amazement that his normally so agreeable green had turned into an uncontrollable, red-eyed, voracious, vicious beast.

“Reach out, V’lex, reach out with me,” Fiona said, feeding her power through him. Faintly she felt an echo from Terin.

V’lex stiffened as the jolt of power coursed into him and, in the distance, Sarinth bugled in surprise and irritation. Fiona was only vaguely aware of the encouraging noises around her, that Sarinth had given up her first kill to pounce on a second and, after a brief fight, reluctantly only drank the blood of this kill, too. She pounced on a