M’hall nodded and wiped his eyes. “She was a great lady.”
“Yes.”
“She gave everything for this planet,” M’hall said. He looked down at the still, lifeless body. “I think I understand her last request now.”
“I don’t,” Wind Blossom said. “I would prefer to leave her undisturbed and keep the memory of her body as it was alive, not as it is dead.”
M’hall shot her a penetrating look. “I had not thought of it that way. Wind Blossom, will you honor my mother Sorka’s last request?”
“M’hall, I do not want to.”
“My father always taught me that I had to honor a lady, particularly my mother.” He shook his head. “I cannot gainsay her.”
Outside the room they heard the sound of footsteps and Torene’s voice: “M’hall, are you all right?”
“In here,” M’hall answered. “Yes.”
Torene, D’mal, and Nara entered. Wind Blossom moved closer to M’hall to make room.
“We wanted to pay our respects,” D’mal told M’hall.
“I learned so much from her,” Nara added. “She was like a mother to me.”
Beside her, Wind Blossom felt M’hall flinch as her words reinforced his sense of loss. He said nothing.
With an inquiring glance at M’hall, Nara approached the side of the bed, bent over, and gave Sorka’s cheek one last kiss. D’mal gently drew his Weyrwoman out of the room, their grief and sympathy evident on their faces.
M’hall leaned forward and gently stroked Sorka’s cheek one last time. Then he straightened, his features showing his grief being subdued by his self-mastery. He looked at Wind Blossom, his face a leader’s mask.
“I must honor my mother’s last request. Is there anything more you need to do before we can depart?”
“Yes.”
“Then we will wait outside until you are done,” M’hall answered, gesturing for Torene to precede him.
Gingerly, Wind Blossom completed shrouding Sorka’s body. When M’hall returned, he started at the sight of the body all covered in white cloth. Recovering his composure, he gently lifted it cradled between his arms.
“Brianth awaits us outside,” he said to Wind Blossom, gesturing that she precede him.
Outside Sorka’s quarters, a group of Fort riders gathered to pay their respects. Once M’hall had wearily hauled himself up on Brianth’s neck, two of the riders lifted Sorka’s shrouded body up to him. He placed it before him on his dragon’s neck. Then the riders helped Wind Blossom up behind M’hall.
“Are you ready?” M’hall called over his shoulder as Brianth beat effortlessly into the air. “I assume time is of the essence.”
“It is,” Wind Blossom agreed. The cold of between answered her.
EIGHT
Proteomics: The study of proteins, typically those created by genetic codes, and how they work.
- Glossary of terms, Elementary Biological Systems, 18th Edition
Wind Blossom was surprised by the length of time they remained between. When the cold of between ended, it was abruptly replaced by a different chill. It was still night and rain was falling, lashing into them as Brianth dived around the Drum Tower toward the College.
“What happened?” Wind Blossom shouted over the noise of the wind.
“I took us back to last night, when I picked you up,” M’hall replied.
“You timed it?” Wind Blossom asked, her tone disapproving.
“I wasn’t thinking carefully enough and gave Brianth these coordinates,” he added ingenuously, concealing that he knew that he had already been here. “Here, let me help you down.”
Wind Blossom grabbed his hand and scrambled with a distinct lack of dignity down Brianth’s side. Just as she belatedly realized that she was far too short to jump to the ground without hurting herself, hands reached up to grab her.
It was Tieran. Wind Blossom schooled her pleasure at seeing him into a more neutral expression, saying, “Get help. The body must go to the cold room.”
“Body?” Tieran repeated. Before Wind Blossom could give him an explanation, a group of people rushed out from the College and grabbed the shrouded body from M’hall. Wind Blossom followed the group in and was inside the College, heading to the surgery, before a second boom announced the arrival of another dragon. Wind Blossom paused but realized that she was too tired and too stressed to concern herself with the second arrival. As she started forward again toward the surgery, a wave of fatigue swept through her and she wavered on her feet.
“Mother?” Emorra had turned at the sound of the second arriving dragon and had seen her mother falter. “Janir! Janir come quick, Wind Blossom has collapsed!”
M’hall shivered more from grief than from the cold of between as he lowered his mother’s body down to the waiting arms gathered below Brianth. He let out a sob as the group carried her body out of sight.
A boom heralded the arrival of his own younger self, timing it so as to bring Wind Blossom to his still-living mother.
“No!” M’hall yelled, tears coursing warmly down his cheeks. “Don’t do it!”
He knew it was pointless, that he couldn’t create a time paradox, but his grief was too great. If he didn’t go, then maybe Sorka would still be alive, he thought wishfully.
“Would you make a time paradox?” his younger self asked, eyes wide with horror.
M’hall tried to answer but couldn’t. Finally, he jumped back onto his dragon and cried, “Go then! Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
Brianth gave one powerful leap and beat the air once with his wings before taking them between, to Benden Weyr and the comfort of Torene.
Wind Blossom found herself lying down on one of the infirmary’s beds with a blanket laid over her. A hand on her chest resisted her immediate effort to rise. Wind Blossom looked up and connected the hand to Emorra.
“I must get up-I have work to do,” she said, modulating her tone from one of outraged impatience to calmly clinical as she realized that she was too weak to bring off the former.
Quirking an eyebrow at her, Emorra reached to the bedside table and picked up a small steaming cup. Wind Blossom inhaled the fragrant odor of klah and suppressed a brief flash of regret that the tea plant had been lost in the mad dash to the Northern Continent.
“Drink this,” Emorra said, deftly slipping her other arm supportively under her mother’s back to help her sit up. “Janir’s coming.”
“You shouldn’t have disturbed him,” Wind Blossom replied unconvincingly. She sipped from the proffered cup. The klah was warm, not hot, but she could feel it rejuvenate her. She took the cup from Emorra’s hand, drained the contents, and pressed the cup back into her daughter’s still outstretched hand in one quick, surprising move. “There, all better.”
“Mother! You still need to rest. Your collapse shocked everyone.”
“Nonsense,” Wind Blossom said. “The sudden change from day to night triggered an attack of lethargy. I’m recovered,” she lied assuredly, swinging her legs to the side of the bed opposite Emorra, “and I have work to do.”
Wind Blossom encountered Janir entering the room just as she was leaving. “Where has Sorka’s body been placed?”
“In the cold room,” Janir replied. “But it can’t stay there much longer.”
“Have it prepped for autopsy, then,” Wind Blossom said, striding past him and causing him to turn around and match her stride. “I’ll be in the main surgery.”