Dragonheart

Some were running around, others were grouped together, some were constructing with blocks, and some were playing games Fiona didn’t recognize. Toward the back wall, she noticed a very large cluster of children sitting and listening raptly to someone who was pacing and gesturing before them. It was Xhinna.

Fiona moved closer and waited quietly for Xhinna to finish her storytelling. At last the younger girl stopped speaking, and as the children began murmuring to one another, Fiona approached. Some of the children saw her.

“It’s the Weyrwoman!” “Weyrwoman Fiona!” Fiona was surprised by their whispers and the looks they gave her.

Then she felt a tug at the base of her tunic and looked down to see a small hand connected to a tiny, solemn-eyed child who couldn’t have had more than four Turns.

“Are you really a Weyrwoman?” the little girl asked.

“Yes, I am,” Fiona said, kneeling down to meet the girl eye to eye. The little girl backed up a step, startled.

A boy toddled up beside her, clearly a sibling. He was older but not by much. “Is your dragon going to die?”

“Dennon!” Xhinna’s voice boomed above her as Fiona struggled to regain her composure. The question had shocked her, chilled her to the bone in a way that going between  had never done. Xhinna squatted down beside Fiona, placed a hand on her shoulder, and gave her a brief squeeze, all the while saying to Dennon, “It’s not polite to talk like that!”

“But you said Tannaz’s dragon was going to die!” Dennon protested angrily. “And they say that Asoth and the others are going to die, too!”

“Your father’s dragon will be all right, Dennon,” Xhinna assured the boy, her tone suddenly quiet and soothing.

“B-but if a queen  could die, then why not a blue, too?” Dennon blubbered. Beside him, his sister started to quietly cry.

“What’s going on here?” a woman’s voice called from the entrance. Fiona looked up and recognized Ellor.

“Xhinna, what are you doing?” Ellor demanded. “I thought you were going to watch them!” Under her breath she muttered, “The mothers only wanted a moment’s peace!”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Xhinna replied, getting back to her feet. “Dennon started bawling.”

“There, Dennon,” Fiona said to the youngster, “it’s going to be all right.”

“Do you promise?” Dennon asked, his trusting eyes gazing into hers.

“Dennon,” Xhinna rasped, “she can’t — ”

“I promise,” Fiona said, raising her voice over Xhinna’s. “Things will work out, even though there may be tears.”

Remember that.

Fiona stepped back, looking around the room. That voice! She’d heard it before. She reached out to Talenth: Did you say something?

No,  the queen replied. She did.

Who? Cisca?

No,  Talenth replied. I cannot say, I do not know her name. We haven’t met yet.

“Are you all right?” Ellor’s voice was full of concern and Fiona realized that the cook had anxiously raced across the room to her.

“I’m fine,” Fiona said, rising to her feet.

“Xhinna — ” Ellor began, her voice edged with fury.

“She’s to come with me,” Fiona said. “I need her.”

Ellor opened her mouth to protest, but Fiona cut across her. “Zirana sent me to get her.”

Ellor looked like she wanted to argue, but the noise of the children distracted her. She blew out her breath in a loud sigh. “Very well,” she said, glaring at Xhinna. “Go with the Weyrwoman and mind your manners!”

Fiona needed no more urging and, grabbing Xhinna by the arm, dragged the girl along with her.

“Thanks!” Xhinna said as they entered the corridor. “Now you see what I mean about how everyone always blames me, even when I don’t do anything.”

Fiona was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, it was with an honest, deliberate voice. “Those children didn’t hear about dragons dying from anyone but you,” she said. “You didn’t set them off just then, but you certainly set them up for it.”

Xhinna stopped dead in her tracks. Fiona turned back to her. Xhinna’s expression was dead, haunted.

“I thought you were different,” Xhinna whispered in shock. “I thought you might really like me.”

“Oh, you’re worse than a pricklebug, you!” Fiona roared back at her. She reached out and grabbed Xhinna’s hand, tugging her along. “You take offense at the slightest bit of honesty.” She sighed loudly. “It’s like you expect everyone to be mean to you.”

“That wasn’t mean?” Xhinna asked with a sniff.

“It was true!” Fiona snapped. “You told those kids a story and you scared them. You’re responsible for that. You made a mistake — it doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“It doesn’t?” Xhinna repeated, as though the concept was new to her.

“No, everyone makes mistakes,” Fiona said, increasing her stride as Xhinna started walking beside her faster. “It’s what you do about them afterward that matters.”

“You mean you don’t hate me?”

“Because you wanted to be a dragonrider?” Fiona demanded. “Or because you like telling stories?”

“Because — ” Xhinna took a deep breath before confessing in a rush, “Because I hoped that your dragon would die.”

Fiona gaped at her, dumbstruck.

“I — I thought if — if I couldn’t have her,” Xhinna stammered, “then why should you?” She looked down and began to cry. “I’m sorry. It was mean of me, and I didn’t mean . . . not really, b-but I thought if I had a dragon then maybe I’d . . .”

“Maybe you’d fit in,” Fiona finished for her. Xhinna’s head bobbed up and down, but she covered her face with her hands and her sobs continued unabated. Fiona groped for a response. The thought of losing a dragon, any dragon . . .

“You know I had a fire-lizard,” she began. She thought she saw Xhinna nod, so she continued. “She was a gold. Her name was Fire.” She paused, fighting to retain her composure. “I miss her . . . so  much!”

“But you’ve got a queen!” Xhinna sobbed. “And I’ve got nothing.”

“I’m not going to be sorry for you,” Fiona told her brusquely. Xhinna stiffened in surprise. “You can still Impress — you’re not too old.”

“They won’t let me on the Hatching Grounds,” Xhinna protested miserably.

“They didn’t let me  on the Hatching Grounds,” Fiona pointed out to her. “And I still Impressed.”

Fiona felt herself losing her temper again. “Look,” she said abruptly, reaching out to pry Xhinna’s hands away from her face, “I don’t have time for all this. Zirana sent me to find you. We’ve got to get food for Tannaz, and I’m going to get her to eat it, even if I have to force her dragon to make her; so you’d better come along now or you’ll be in worse trouble.”

She turned and started off back to the Kitchen Cavern. A moment later she felt a hand brush her arm. “I only thought that before I met you,” Xhinna said softly. “About your dragon, I mean.”

Fiona turned back to her with a small smile. “That’s what I thought.”

When Fiona and Xhinna arrived at Tannaz’s weyr a half an hour later, Xhinna kept her eyes downcast and followed every one of Fiona’s orders silently, just as they’d agreed.

“Pretend it’s a game,” Fiona had suggested with a grin. “You get a point for every order I give you that you can do without making any noise. This time I’ll make it easy, but the next time — be warned! — I’ll do my very best to make you laugh.”