“Terin will see to things,” Fiona declared with false assurance. “Anyway, you’ll be up in a moment, so just hush and rest.”

Fiona spent the next few minutes exploring her memories of the amazing day she’d just lived.

“Some of the weyrlings are probably tired because they were awoken in the middle of the night back at Fort Weyr ,” she said after a few moments’ thought. She slowly released the pressure on T’mar’s head and let him sit up, her eyes examining him as best she could in the dim light. “Do you feel like standing?”

“Whether I do or not, I have a duty,” T’mar replied, forcing himself to his feet again.

Fiona eyed him critically. “We’ll get you to the Kitchen Cavern and have you sit,” she decided. “You can order just as easily from there as anywhere.”

T’mar didn’t argue and silently allowed her to keep a steadying hand on his arm as they made their way down the queens’ ledge and over to the Kitchen Cavern.

“Ah, you’re up!” Terin exclaimed brightly as she saw Fiona arrive. “We’ve done what we could, but we’ve got no proper food to greet guests.”

“They’ll be bringing the food,” Fiona assured her. “I suspect, however, that it won’t be food we’ve had before.”

Terin shrugged. “As long as it’s not numbweed, I’ll eat it.”

Fiona sniffed the air and was vexed to be able to still catch a faint whiff of the noxious but marvelous weed.

Terin noticed and frowned. “I think next time we’ll brew it in the Bowl.”

“Maybe down by the river,” T’mar said. Terin gave him a quizzical look, so the bronze rider expanded: “The Igen River is over those mountains — no time at all a-dragonback.”

Terin shrugged, dismissing the issue from her list of worries.

“You know,” she said to Fiona in the tone of one relaying a confidence, “I’m the only girl here.” She caught Fiona’s widening eyes and amended hastily, “The only one who isn’t a dragonrider.”

“You’re going to have to draft the dragonriders to help you,” Fiona told her.

“But — ”

“You’re headwoman,” T’mar reminded her. “You won’t have any problems.”

“I’ve only ten Turns!” Terin protested.

“It’s not the Turns that matter — it’s how you behave,” Fiona assured her.

Terin pursed her lips, not looking relieved.

T’mar nodded. “You’ve a maturity about you that makes people willing to discount your years.” He caught her worried look and added, “Besides, they’re used to obeying the headwoman — and certainly none of them  would be willing to take on your duties.” He grinned.

“But some of the boys — ”

“If anyone gives you a problem,  want to know of it,” T’mar told her firmly.

“And I,” Fiona added fiercely. She glanced at T’mar and turned, grinning, to Terin. “I told Talenth to tell the other dragons that you’re headwoman. I doubt you’ll have any problems.”

“Oh!” Terin exclaimed. Her expression brightened with mischievous glee.

“I expect you to behave responsibly,” Fiona warned the younger girl. “Or you’ll have to answer to me.”

Terin’s glee cooled noticeably and her next words were very demure: “Yes, Weyrwoman.”

They are here,  Talenth said. They are at the gates.

“Have the watch dragon let them in,” Fiona said aloud, to let Terin know. She glanced at the young headwoman. “Do we have the storerooms clean?”

Terin’s eyes widened in horror. “No, we were too busy clearing quarters for the most injured riders,” she confessed.

“No matter,” T’mar assured her. “I’m sure I can find enough warm bodies to prepare at least part of the storerooms before we eat.”

At this Fiona’s stomach rumbled, and she suddenly realized that she was ravenously hungry. T’mar smiled.

“You go greet our benefactors, while I take care of the storerooms,” the wingleader said, rising from his chair. Fiona glanced at him nervously, but the bronze rider made it clear by his stance that he was no longer in need of aid.

Fiona met Azeez just as he called the caravan to a halt.

“Welcome to Igen Weyr,” she said with a slight bow. The words seemed to grow larger in the cooler air, and she felt as though they meant even more than she’d intended.

Azeez jumped down from his dray and bent his head toward Fiona in response.

“It is good to see this Weyr in use again,” said Mother Karina, striding forward. She nodded to Fiona. “It is right that you are its first Weyrwoman.”

Fiona didn’t know how to take the old woman’s statement — was it a compliment or a pronouncement?

“Get the beasts settled and the stores unloaded,” Karina ordered Azeez. Before Azeez could respond, she continued, “Everyone is hungry; send up the lunch supplies first.” She glanced at Fiona. “Has your headwoman got her weyrfolk ready?”

Fiona’s eyes widened in a mixture of fright, astonishment, and humor: How would Karina take to meeting Igen’s headwoman?

“Let’s find out,” she replied, trying not to worry as she gestured for Karina to lead the way.

In the Kitchen Cavern, Terin was busily supervising a mixed array of convalescent riders and reluctant weyrlings.

“I’ve got water boiling,” the girl said as soon as she caught sight of Fiona. She saw Karina behind her, hid a gulp, and made a curtsy. “Terin, headwoman at Igen.”

“This is Mother Karina,” Fiona said, waving a hand to introduce the older woman.

“How many Turns have you?” Karina demanded of Terin.

Terin’s expression clouded fearfully, then she drew in a breath and drew herself up taller, saying proudly, “I’ve ten Turns.”

“A good age,” Karina told her in approving tones. “I was that age when the traders called me Mother.”

Terin gave a noncommittal nod in response, not quite sure how to handle this information. Then she said, “All the klah  bark is old and moldy.” She gestured to a sack.

“The lads have brought more,” Karina said dismissively.

A noise from behind Karina caught their attention and they saw two traders coming forward with sacks over their shoulders.

“J’keran!” Terin called immediately. “Send five strong weyrlings back with these traders — they have our lunch.”

“Immediately!” J’keran replied, gesturing for another weyrling to take over his duty at his boiling pot.

Karina gestured to the boiling water. “And what were you hoping to put in your pots?”

“Food for injured dragonriders and growing weyrlings,” Terin replied promptly. A small grin slid over her as she added, “And anyone else that feels need.”

Karina cocked her head at those words. “Is that so? Is it a habit of the Weyr to feed those who wander nearby?”

“Always,” Terin replied solemnly. “We’ll share the last crumb.” “Big words from such a small girl,” Karina replied.

“Only the truth,” Terin replied, her eyes flashing. “I am an orphan myself. I was taken in as a baby, my parents dead from the hunger.” She raised her head in challenge to the older woman. “So you see, I have reason to be my word.”

“Be your word? And what does that mean to you, youngling?”

“It means you can count on me to stand by the words I speak,” Terin replied. “And as I’ve been appointed headwoman here by Weyrwoman Fiona, and that appointment’s been approved by senior wingleader T’mar, you can take my word to stand for that of all the riders here at Igen.”

“There must be a lot  of trader stock in the weyrfolk!” Karina declared with a laugh. She held out a hand to Terin. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, headwoman.”

“Thank you,” Terin replied, her expression lightening once more as she took Karina’s old, withered hand in

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