Terin to follow her, entered the firestone room.

Inside, she quickly collected all the younger weyrlings.

“Great work, everyone,” she said to them, eyeing them all carefully. They were hot and sweaty, looking very much worse for their efforts. And yet, in a real Fall, they’d need to prepare at least eight bags of firestone for each dragon, and they’d only prepared three. “We’ve got at least an hour before we’ll need to do more,” she told them. Their faces brightened until Fiona held up a hand in caution. “But I think we should ready another load of firestone, just in case.”

“But we won’t need it!” a voice grumbled in the crowd.

“Today maybe,” Fiona said. “But sure as Thread falls from the sky, the dragons will be needing firestone soon. What harm is there in being ready?”

“She sounds just like T’mar,” the same voice grumbled.

“She should, she’s a Weyrwoman,” another voice answered. Fiona recognized that voice as F’jian.

“F’jian, take charge,” she said. “I want to talk with the Weyrwoman.” With that, she turned and moved out briskly, her thoughts racing even more quickly.

It seemed foolish to her, with the illness and so few weyrlings, for the Weyr to rely on them alone for firestone. And what would happen if the older weyrlings got the illness or were injured? Who would fly the firestone then? Perhaps some of the less injured dragons could do it. Or perhaps K’lior’s thought of having healthy riders ride sick riders’ dragons would fill the gap. She needed to talk to Cisca.

“They won’t be up for it,” Fiona blurted as soon as she found the Weyrwoman where she was supervising the laying out of the first-aid area along with Kentai and Ellor.

Instead of asking who or what, Cisca merely nodded. “What should we do about it?”

“Can we organize some of the weyrfolk?” Fiona asked. She lowered her voice to be certain that no one else heard her next words. “We don’t know if the illness will affect the younger dragons. We must be prepared.”

“Actually,” Cisca corrected her, “we do know that it will affect them.” Fiona looked puzzled, until Cisca continued, “We know that Lorana’s Arith is infected.”

“Oh, yes,” Fiona replied sadly. She glanced toward her weyr, where Talenth was eyeing the bustle in the Weyr Bowl with great interest.

“We can do it,” Ellor said. “We’ll have to use more of the youngsters, though.”

“Good idea,” Cisca said. She turned to Fiona. “And with the work set more squarely on the weyrfolk, you’ll be able to help me with more of my chores.”

Oddly, the thought cheered Fiona. Cisca caught her look and winked at her.

“In fact . . .” she began, glancing around at the activity of the Weyr Bowl, “I think that perhaps you and I should make a quick inspection while we still have the time.”

“Inspection?” Fiona repeated, wondering what the Weyrwoman was talking about. A rustle of wings surprised her further, even more so when gold Melirth settled on the ground next to them.

“Run and get your riding things!” Cisca ordered, turning to the chair on which she’d draped her wher-hide jacket, leather helmet, and gloves.

Fiona raced back to her quarters, waved cheerfully at Talenth, rushed into her rooms, and opened the closet where she’d placed the riding leathers that she’d been given, in all due ceremony, at Turn’s End. She was surprised to realize that that had been less than three weeks ago. She grabbed what she needed and raced back out.

“She’s big and you’re small,” Cisca said, eyeing her queen with obvious delight, “so I’ll give you a hand up.”

It was less elegant than that, but finally, with a certain amount of undignified pushing on the part of Fort’s senior Weyrwoman, Fiona managed to catch the riding straps and crawl up on Melirth’s neck. A moment later she was joined by Cisca.

“Are you ready?” Cisca asked, leaning over Fiona’s shoulder.

“Where are we going?” Fiona asked, looking around the Weyr Bowl quickly, seeing the startled look on Xhinna’s face and the eager looks of the younger weyrlings.

“I can’t have you not doing your duty as Weyrwoman just because your dragon’s too young to fly,” Cisca told her sternly, adding with a chuckle, “And I haven’t been in the air for days.

With that, Melirth leapt, her great wings easily propelling them up high and out of the Bowl. They paused only long enough to dip a wing at the watch dragon by the Star Stones, and then Fiona was engulfed in the cold of between.

Are you all right?  Talenth asked anxiously.

I’m fine,  Fiona replied and was surprised to realize that she was. It was the first time that between  seemed merely normal, almost comforting. She had only an instant to adjust to the new feeling before they burst out again into the sunlight.

Above her, Fiona could see twelve dragons spread in a loose V formation. Each dragon had a pair of firestone sacks dangling below them.

“We’re here!” Fiona cried, suddenly understanding Cisca. “We’re watching the weyrlings deliver the firestone!”

“Part of your job, Weyrwoman,” Cisca said into her ear. “Pay attention and see if they’re doing it right.”

Of course they were: they’d already done it once that morning. The purpose of the trip, Fiona realized, was not so much for her  to check up on the weyrlings as for Cisca to show her how the weyrlings should be passing firestone.

The maneuver was quite tricky, Fiona decided as she watched one of the fighting dragons catch up with a weyrling, come alongside, get the weyrling’s attention and then, with a heart-stopping flip of the wings, dive in a spiral to a position directly underneath the weyrling, near the firestone sack.

The load was transferred neatly from weyrling to dragonrider, and then the two veered away from each other, the weyrling’s dragon lurching slightly from the sudden weight reduction.

“Well done,” Cisca murmured in Fiona’s ear. Fiona nodded in agreement. “Watch carefully: the trick’s the same for the flame throwers we’ll be using.”

“We don’t have enough queens,” Fiona protested, trying to imagine herself and Talenth accomplishing the maneuver.

“Yet,” Cisca said with a laugh.

They watched until all the weyrlings had relinquished their loads and then Cisca called, “Hold on tight!”

Suddenly Melirth’s great wings were pumping with more power than Fiona could imagine and the great queen lurched forward in the sky, arcing up to a nearly upside-down position before sweeping back in the other direction and taking up a position directly in front of the weyrlings.

Fiona felt more than heard the surprise and pleasure of the weyrling dragons behind her.

“We’re taking them home,” Cisca called. Fiona felt Cisca change her balance as she raised an arm and gave the universal signal to go between.

We’re coming back now,  Fiona told Talenth as the cold nothingness that was between  engulfed her once more.

You had fun!  Talenth said, sounding both pleased and accusing. They burst out into the air above Fort Weyr , right at the Star Stones. The watch dragon bugled a greeting as Melirth zoomed past and then began a spiraling, leisurely descent back into the Weyr.

Yes, I did!  Fiona agreed happily.

That evening Xhinna was so obviously sore from all her efforts that Fiona insisted the younger girl take her bath first.

“Don’t put on your nightgown when you get out,” Fiona ordered, “I’m going to put some salve on your back.”

Xhinna didn’t even protest as Fiona slathered her back with the sticky salve. Finally, Fiona sent her to bed and took her own bath. When she was done, she found Xhinna already asleep, lightly snoring.

Sometimes, Fiona thought happily to herself in a drowsy languor just before sleep overtook her, it’s like we’re sisters. It was a pleasant thought and Fiona squirmed up closer to Xhinna as she settled into sleep; it was still midwinter and the warmth of another body was perfect.

When Fiona awoke the next morning, Xhinna was still sound asleep. She decided to leave her; she knew that, despite Xhinna’s protests, the girl had worked herself ragged the day before.

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