“And I’ll be turning fourteen soon enough,” Fiona replied, both stung by his tone and amused by the realization that “soon enough” meant anything just under a full Turn. Zenor had only sixteen Turns in this time! She had always thought of him as older, like Kindan. Come to think of it, in this time Kindan had little more than sixteen Turns himself. A thrill of recognition, nearly a challenge, ran through her — she was almost old enough for Kindan!
Idly she wondered what it would be like if she arranged to meet him, now, as old as she was with him as young as he was. Her pleasure at the thought faded as she wondered if she looked enough like her late sister, Koriana, to cause Kindan pain. Probably, she admitted to herself, he would recognize her as Koriana’s kin and then what would she say to him? And what if he fell in love with her and she had to leave him — how would he survive having his love dashed a second time?
But no, Fiona assured herself, Kindan hadn’t seen her or hadn’t recognized her if he had met her in this time, or he wouldn’t be at Benden Weyr, he’d be with her instead
“You should get some rest,” Zenor said, rising from his chair. “I need to check on Nuella.”
Too tired to protest, Fiona drifted off into a hazy, fitful sleep.
“How’s the egg?” Fiona asked when she next woke.
“We’ve got it near a hearth and it’s still warm,” Zenor assured her. Fiona was surprised to see a red-haired girl about her age standing beside him, bearing a large tray. The resemblance to Zenor was obvious.
“This is Renna,” Zenor said by way of introduction. As Fiona started to turn over, he stopped her with a firm hand on her back. “You still shouldn’t move.”
“I
“Let me look at your leg,” he said, going to the end of her bed and gently unwrapping her bandage. He leaned forward and sniffed deeply, smelling for any sign of infection. From his pleased reaction, there was none.
“With puncture wounds, the greatest danger is of infection,” Zenor explained, half to Fiona and half to Renna. He deftly rewrapped the bandages and moved to the front of her bed. “Let’s see how you feel sitting up.”
Fiona was horrified to discover that she felt worse sitting up. The wounds on her left leg felt as though they were bleeding or, worse, her muscle was oozing out through the openings. It must have shown on her face, for Zenor moved to push her back down, but she raised her arm to forestall him.
“I’ll get better,” she promised. She smiled wanly at Renna, who gave her a dubious, slightly green look in response. “Perhaps I’m just hungry.”
“Sit there; we’ll bring the table over,” Zenor said, gesturing for Renna to give him a hand. Together the two lifted either end of the table and carried it closer to the bedside.
“That egg will hatch soon,” Fiona said as she gingerly raised a mug to her lips.
“I agree,” Zenor said. Renna glanced between Fiona and her brother, her face set in a thoughtful frown.
“It’s a gold,” Fiona continued, having discovered with some surprise that the mug contained not
“How can you be certain?” Zenor demanded, frowning.
“I can’t and I’m not, but Aleesa thought so,” Fiona said.
Renna’s expression suddenly changed and she turned to Zenor, saying, “She’s not suggesting that Nuella — ”
Zenor waved her to silence. “I’ve explained about Nuella.”
Renna turned to Fiona. “She’s not ready — she’s still recovering — it’s only been a few days!”
Fiona was too weak to argue with the fiery redhead. A twinge from her wound prompted her to ask, “Why did that dog attack me, anyway?”
“Most of the dogs went wild after the Plague,” Zenor said with a wave of his hand. “Too many were abandoned when their owners succumbed.”
“Those of us who could settled inside the hold,” Renna said, her face reflecting painful memories.
“I’m sorry.”
“If the dragonriders had helped — ” Renna began hotly, her blue-green eyes flaring angrily at Fiona.
“I was only a baby,” Fiona began in protest before realizing that her explanation would only further confuse things.
“You don’t look that young,” Renna snapped back heatedly.
“Kindan said that the dragonriders had to wait until the Plague had passed to protect the weyrfolk,” Fiona said.
Renna snorted. “They waited, all right! They’re still waiting.”
“What?” Fiona asked in shock, shaking her head. “No, that’s not true! They dropped masks and fruit at all the holds — ”
“Except those looking to Telgar,” Renna told her harshly. “D’gan left us to live or die on our own.”
“And that fool Fenric locked himself in his hold until Nerra recovered enough to throw him out,” Fiona said, recalling her father’s words on the subject as he explained why he had supported Nerra’s claim to Crom Hold.
“Yes,” Zenor agreed, giving Fiona a keen look.
Fiona didn’t hear him, her mind absorbing Renna’s words. She asked her quietly, “How bad was it here?”
“Dalor survived,” Zenor answered. “So did Nuella, myself, Renna, Nuella’s baby sister Larissa — mostly the young.”
“It affected those in their prime more than the young or the old,” Fiona said, remembering countless discussions with Kindan, her father, and the older hold survivors.
“Except in our case, the very youngest succumbed shortly afterward,” Renna added bleakly. At Fiona’s surprised look, she explained, “There was no food.”
“We’ve only half the people that were here before the Plague,” Zenor said. “Natalon had already had us starting to relocate to the new hold; afterward, we abandoned all the old houses.”
Renna rose. “I’d better go check on Nuella.”
Fiona waved at Zenor. “You go, too! I know you’re sweet on her — ”
A muffled gasp from Zenor and a startled guffaw from Renna made her realize that she’d broached a touchy subject and she did her best to hide her surprise.
“Kindan told me,” Fiona said quickly, hoping to cover her gaffe.
Renna opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it, shaking her head. She gestured to Zenor. “You should go. I just realized that our patient here probably needs some help getting to the necessary.”
Zenor gave her a mulish look, but it dawned on Fiona that she
“Just so you know,” Renna said in a tight voice, “the last thing Nuella said to Zenor was, ‘Why did you let me live?’ ”
“But I thought that Nuelsk saved her,” Fiona said in surprise.
“She pushed but Zenor pulled,” Renna said tersely, wrapping an arm around Fiona and guiding her to her feet. “So, your coming here with a queen’s egg and sounding like Zenor and Nuella are mated is just as addled as expecting a dragonrider to say a kind word.”
“
Renna raised an eyebrow. “Really?” she asked skeptically, waving a hand toward the hills outside. “Where’s your dragon?”
Not waiting for Fiona’s response, she guided her toward the door and down the hall to the necessary.
By the time they returned, Fiona was so tired that she uttered no protest when ordered by Renna to lie down on her stomach once more.
“You need your rest,” the redhead said, closing the room’s shutters.
“Thank you,” Fiona told her.
“See?” Renna replied with quirk of her lips. “You can’t be a dragonrider — you’re too polite!”
Fiona didn’t have the strength to argue.
When she woke again, Talenth was calling her.
