Dragonheart

third, dispatching it with one sudden blow to the neck, fastened her jaws on its throat and sucked eagerly, her skin glistening.

Around her blues and browns made encouraging noises, their riders splitting their attention between the green dragon and her rider.

With a taunting cry, Sarinth leapt skyward, instantly chased by a flock of eager blues and browns.

“She mustn’t go between. ” The rough male voice barely made itself heard over the eager noises of the dragons. It was T’mar.

Some instinct had Fiona reach out toward Terin and drag the younger girl to her side, leaving V’lex exposed to the growing attentions of the other riders even as she herself continued to pour her power into the green rider.

And then — in an instant — Fiona felt a backlash flow into her, and suddenly she had an image from high in the sky, looking down on the Weyr and the puny blues and overmuscled browns as she soared over them, taunting them with cries as she climbed higher and higher in the cool morning air, the sun rising over the horizon in tribute to her prowess.

“Fiona!” a voice, harsh with emotion, burst over her. “Fiona, you must see to the traders!”

Fiona felt herself being brusquely shoved, pushed out of the warm huddle of bodies pressing around V’lex, felt Terin’s grasp tighten in panic on her hand and then — she was out of the throng, looking back longingly.

T’mar’s head appeared amongst the others as he called, “Go, see to the children!”

And then the instant of connection, of soaring emotions Fiona had only dimly felt before, seeped away from her and she was herself, back on the ground, a loud group of dragonriders behind her, Terin gasping wide-eyed for breath still clinging tightly, painfully to her hand, and — in the distance — a knot of young traders, looking more alarmed and frightened than excited over the behavior of the dragonriders.

“Did you see the green dragon jump into the sky?” Fiona asked the knot of youngsters as she closed upon them.

Some nodded, others shrank back behind their elders. Fiona took a deep, steadying breath and continued, “She’s on her mating flight, and she jumped into the sky daring the boy dragons to see if they could catch her.”

She smiled, adding, “She’s only thinking about how high she can fly, how much better she is than them, and — ”

Suddenly an overwhelming emotion, a sense of elation and climax flowed into Fiona and she was temporarily speechless. Beside her she heard Terin gasp and some of the older trader children also cried out while the youngsters all pointed skyward, crying, “Look, they’re falling!”

Fiona, with her back to the scene, shook her head. “They’re just playing. The brown caught the green and it’s part of their mating game.”

“Will they make more dragons?” a little boy piped up.

“Greens don’t lay eggs,” a girl corrected him, her eyes locked on the spectacle above them.

“Firestone makes them sterile,” Fiona agreed absently, willing herself back under control, feeling her skin tingle as another wave of emotion rolled over her. She took another deep, calming breath, felt Terin’s fingers cling desperately to hers and drew the younger girl to her in a tight hug.

“Sometimes it’s nice to hug a friend, just because you feel like it,” Fiona said over Terin’s shoulder to the youngsters. Some nodded solemnly, seeking out friends and hugging them with all the innocence of children. Encouraged, Fiona directed them into a larger hug, more children joining in until she, Terin, and all the trader children were one giant hug.

There was one sudden, final, joyful shout from the distant dragonriders, one final thrill pouring through the knot of children, and then Talenth said, Winurth flew her.

Afterward, Fiona and Terin herded the trader children through a quick bath in the Weyrwoman’s quarters, by which time the older traders were ready to look after them. Once Fiona had returned the last of their charges, she turned to Terin. “Let’s take a moment in the bath ourselves.”

“Do you want to go first?” Terin asked.

Fiona shook her head. “Just this once, we’ll share the tub.”

As Terin’s eyes widened, Fiona added hastily, “We’ll be needed soon — we won’t have much time.”

They were quickly in and out of the tub, spending more time drying and combing hair than bathing. Fiona insisted on Terin going first and, as the younger girl sat with her eyes closed as she luxuriated in having her hair parted, combed, and braided, Fiona remarked, “You did well.”

“I was scared,” Terin confessed, lowering her head so that Fiona could finish braiding. “I wasn’t sure what I wanted at the moment — I felt so overwhelmed, not myself.” She paused thoughtfully, then declared, “I want to be myself, not someone dragonflamed.”

Her words echoed in Fiona’s mind long after.

Tell T’mar we’re coming,  Fiona told Talenth, signaling to Terin to stop drying her hair.

“We’ve got to get going,” she said aloud as she rose from the chair and started for the entrance to Talenth’s weyr. “With a mating flight there are two very happy riders and . . .” She gestured with an open hand.

“They’ll all need breakfast,” Terin agreed, striding quickly to catch up to her.

They found T’mar at the entrance to the Kitchen Cavern.

“I’ll start the klah, ” Terin said, rushing past.

“No rush,” T’mar called after her. “We’ll take this as a rest day.” Fiona cocked an eyebrow upward and grinned impishly.

“And how did you enjoy your first mating flight as Weyrwoman?” T’mar asked.

Fiona started to recount Terin’s trenchant observation to him but thought better of it, changing her expression to one of mild amusement.

“Has Sarinth chewed firestone?” Terin called from her place by the hearth.

“Firestone?” T’mar repeated, frowning. “No, we won’t start to practice flaming until they’ve mastered the recognition points.”

“You might want to reconsider that,” Fiona observed. “I’m not sure if we would want to wait for Sarinth to clutch.”

“Oh,” T’mar said, dumbstruck. He turned toward Terin and sketched a bow in her direction. “Well caught, headwoman.”

“I just thought . . .” Terin began only to break off, blushing. “It’s just that . . .” She glanced helplessly toward Fiona.

“We women tend to concentrate on such things,” Fiona said drily, recalling one of Kelsa’s choice phrases.

“Well,” T’mar said with an expression of one rapidly reprioritizing, “I suspect we’ll need to start firestone drill shortly.”

“We’ll need firestone,” Fiona replied.

“Hmm,” T’mar said, his face creased into a thoughtful frown. “That may be difficult.”

“Rather,” Fiona agreed, heading over to the spare hearth to start rolls. She turned back to him, flashing a taunting smile. “I’m sure you’ll figure out something.”

“That is  unexpected,” Azeez allowed as T’mar laid out the problem to the trader over the evening meal. He twitched a smile toward Fiona and Terin as he added, “We’d already discussed how to handle it — an exchange of finished gold for firestone — but we hadn’t planned to deal for another three months or so.”

T’mar turned to the smirking Fiona in amazement. “You’d already planned . . .  ?”

“Weyrwoman,” Fiona said, her eyes dancing as she pointed at herself.

“Indeed,” T’mar responded with a snort, half-amused, half-respectful. “So, Weyrwoman,  how was it that you forgot to allow for rising greens?”

It was Fiona’s turn to blush. She couldn’t speak and mutely shook her head.

“With dragons, we could retrieve the stone more quickly,” Azeez said thoughtfully, “but we hadn’t expected to begin trading . . .”

“Perhaps we can find something else besides gold,” Terin suggested.