Dragonheart

“Open your eyes, Fiona,” Kentai said.

She found herself staring up at the harper, who was holding a glow. T’mar moved into view in the background, one side of his face covered in a bandage and his arm in a sling.

Kentai leaned forward, examining her intently. “What am I looking for?” he asked her.

“Pupils equally reactive to light,” Fiona replied quickly, just as if it were a test. Then she realized that it was. “Are they?” she asked.

“Yes,” Kentai said, nodding in relief. “Still, I want you to rest until tomorrow. Concussions can be tricky things.”

“I had one once as a weyrling,” T’mar said by way of agreement. He went pale as he continued, “I spent a whole day feeling like my feet were always two toes off the ground.”

“Did you?” Kentai asked conversationally. “I don’t recall the incident.”

“Yes, well, you wouldn’t,” T’mar replied, sounding like he was regretting the admission. “It was the result of an unpleasant altercation.”

“Did every weyrling fight with H’nez?” Kentai asked in exasperation.

“I suspect so,” T’mar allowed. “At least, all the bronze riders did.”

“How is he?” Fiona asked.

“His wing did better than some,” T’mar replied, his tone full of self-recrimination.

“T’mar, aside from your injuries, only two of your wing were hurt,” Kentai said. “That is no worse than most.”

“Well, I’ve got ten days to get well again,” T’mar said.

“Your arm might not be up to catching firestone,” Kentai warned mildly.

“Oh, be certain of it, it will be,” T’mar promised.

“So, tomorrow, I can get up?” Fiona asked, moving the conversation away from an obviously painful topic.

“Yes,” Kentai agreed. “And we should leave you to your rest.” Fiona rested fitfully throughout the remainder of the day. The next morning, she felt well enough to get up and bathe without Xhinna’s help; she was pleased to let her friend sleep in, after she’d been working so hard to help Fiona and also take care of as many of Fiona’s duties as she could. But when Xhinna woke up and saw her toweling off, she was unusually quiet, and Fiona could see that something was bothering her.

“What?” she demanded.

Xhinna sighed and made a face; it was obvious that she felt she had some kind of confession to make. “There was a woman here while you were sick,” she began. With a raised eyebrow, Fiona commanded her to continue. “Lorana,” Xhinna said. “She Impressed a gold at Benden Weyr and she’s been looking for a cure to the illness. She came here yesterday with the Weyrleader, B’nik, to look through our Records.”

“And?” Fiona urged.

“They found something in the Records,” Xhinna went on. “They were excited and surprised.”

“What else?” Fiona prompted, seeing that Xhinna was getting closer to what was really worrying her.

“Her dragon got sick, she just found out, and she rushed back to Benden,” Xhinna finished in a rush, her eyes darting uncontrollably in the direction of Talenth’s weyr.

“Talenth is fine,” Fiona declared stoutly.

“Yes,” Xhinna agreed hastily. “Of course.”

Fiona threw on a robe and reached for her slippers. “Let’s check on her,” she said. “That way we’ll both  know.”

But Xhinna didn’t make a move to follow. Surprised, Fiona turned back and gave her a questioning look.

“You said that you’d go between  with her,” Xhinna began hesitantly.

“She asked me,” Fiona replied softly, having a disturbing notion that she knew where Xhinna was heading.

“I don’t know how I’d survive if you went between, ” Xhinna confessed.

We’re not going between  for a long time,” Fiona assured her.

“You don’t know that,” Xhinna replied, her face grim.

“You can come with us, if that’s what you want,” Fiona said.

“Thank you,” Xhinna said, getting up at last. “I hope it won’t happen and I don’t know if I’ll want to, but I just wanted to know . . .”

Fiona smiled and grabbed her hand. “We won’t leave you behind,” she promised.

From the moment that Kentai pronounced himself satisfied with Fiona’s recovery, she had only one thing on her mind: to see T’mar. She hoped that she hadn’t been too obvious about it when she’d offered to check on the injured riders, but judging from Kentai’s raised eyebrow and Xhinna’s amused snort, she wasn’t sure.

To save herself from any snide comments, she made sure that she visited all the other riders first. But it didn’t help.

“So now are we going to visit your boyfriend?” Xhinna asked after their last stop. “He’s the only injured rider left, you know.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Fiona protested heatedly. Xhinna wisely said nothing, but Talenth, who had apparently been attracted to Fiona’s thoughts, asked, What’s a boyfriend?

I’ll tell you later,  Fiona promised in a tone that sounded surprisingly like the same one her father had used Turns past when she’d been asking awkward questions. Unlike her own self all those Turns past, Fiona discovered pleasantly that Talenth was contented with the answer.

Zirenth’s weyr was on the third level, above the weyrling barracks. Fiona could imagine that that location was part of the reason that T’mar had volunteered to add weyrlingmaster duties to his work as wingleader: the noise from the weyrlings below was audible even here.

“Good day, Zirenth,” Fiona called loudly as they halted at the entrance to T’mar’s quarters. “Is your rider about?”

“I am,” T’mar intoned from just inside. “Is that Weyrwoman Fiona I hear?”

“And Xhinna,” Xhinna added with a laugh.

“I’m checking on the injured,” Fiona said, ignoring the laughing look in Xhinna’s eyes. “You’re the last for the day.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” T’mar replied. “Please come in.” Xhinna sidled behind Fiona and pushed the young Weyrwoman irreverently in before her. Fiona realized that she was blushing and turned to chide Xhinna, only to hear T’mar laugh, “Leaving so soon?”

Flustered, Fiona turned back again. “No, it’s just that I — ”

“Come in, come in,” T’mar invited her ebulliently. “Zirenth, we have company.” He spread his hands in front of him demurely, adding, “If I had known, I would have sent for refreshments.”

“They’re on the way,” Xhinna put in promptly.

“Are they?” T’mar asked in surprise, turning just in time to see a fresh tray being carried into view by the current. “Oh, yes they are!”

He picked up the tray with his good arm but Xhinna scooped it away from him with a courteous look and laid it on the nearby table.

Fiona took the moment to carefully appraise the bronze rider’s injuries: the arm in the sling would heal with time; the bandage over the right side of his face was somewhat more concerning. T’mar must have noticed, for he chose that moment to say, “I appreciate your attentions, but I’ve been assured by both Kentai and Cisca that I will recover fully, even if I will add a scar to my forehead.”

“It missed the eye then,” Xhinna murmured clinically. “I’m glad.”

“Burnt out just on the eye ridge,” T’mar said, gesturing to the bandage. “If Zirenth had gotten us between  an instant later, it would have scored through the bone. As it was, I was blinded on that side and so confused that when we came back into the Weyr Bowl . . .” He shook his head ruefully and gave Fiona a respectful nod. “Well, you know, as you took my fall.”

“I was trying for your head and shoulders,” Fiona responded lamely.

“I hate to say it,” T’mar said, biting his lip, “but I’m rather glad you saved me as you did.” Fiona gave him a surprised look. “I would have certainly broken both legs otherwise and been that many more months healing.”

“Then I’m glad, too,” Fiona replied. “Pern needs all its dragons and riders.”