“No luck,” Xhinna reported to Taria, who had become something of the camp’s headwoman. Xhinna herself had become more Weyrleader than Weyrwoman. She consulted with K’dan and Colfet, but they deferred to her, partly, perhaps, because she had the only dragon able to fly, but also partly, she thought, because she had started with the job and they saw no reason—yet—for change.
If there was one good thing about their situation it was that Xhinna and Taria were together more than they had ever been before: They shared their private time with a passion that they’d never known previously, a sense that every moment was a gift to be cherished, every caress an act of love, and every soft word a caress. They had arguments, some vociferous, but that was nothing new—they were only arguments, nothing more. What was different was how much esteem they shared for each other as they exchanged the news of the day and realized how, quietly, each had done so much, so well.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Taria said, pulling Xhinna over and stroking her short hair. Xhinna closed her eyes, luxuriating in the contact and the compassion.
“I love you,” she said, opening her eyes to meet Taria’s shiny dark brown ones. Taria smiled and leaned down to kiss her. It was a gentle touch, lips on lips, soft, a promise of more later, a motion with more meaning than intent.
Once again, Xhinna marveled at her luck. How could she have found someone so good as Taria? How could she ever have found the courage to open up when so many times before she’d been disdained, rejected? And then, to Impress Tazith, the most marvelous, amazing dragon ever to grace Pern’s Weyrs! She was the first woman to ride a blue and that made her a target for those who would say she couldn’t handle a man’s job, even more so than Taria or the other girls who’d Impressed greens. She knew this and she would rise to the challenge. She would not fail. She could not fail. But why?
Xhinna snorted with amusement as she found the answer: Fiona.
“What?” Taria asked.
“Fiona,” Xhinna muttered with a grin. She felt Taria tense under her, confused and worried. Xhinna reached up and ran her fingers through Taria’s hair. “I was thinking that if it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t be here.”
Taria relaxed. “I’m jealous of her.”
“Why?”
“The way you talk about her,” Taria said with some reluctance.
“Mmm?” Xhinna murmured, opening her eyes once more to look into Taria’s face.
“It’s … I don’t know.” Taria shook her head. “It’s like you idolize her.”
“I do,” Xhinna agreed quietly, moving her hand down to stroke Taria’s cheek. “I love you.” She caught Taria’s eyes. “See the difference?”
“But you can’t be a queen rider like her,” Taria protested.
“I’m not,” Xhinna said.
“You act like one,” Taria said. “Or a Weyrleader.”
“I do what needs doing.”
“Precisely,” Taria replied. “That’s what makes you a Weyrleader.”
“Well, if so, you’ll always be my Weyrwoman,” Xhinna promised. Taria giggled, shaking her head, and then, shyly, pressed her cheek into Xhinna’s hand.
“We need more food,” Bekka said a sevenday later as she met with Xhinna, K’dan, and Colfet. Taria was keeping the twins occupied, but she sat nearby with one ear to the discussion. “We’re wasting away.”
Twice in the past sevenday, when fierce rains and thunderstorms had driven all prey to ground, the hunters and fishers had returned without enough to feed even half-rations to the humans. On the last occasion, the hatchlings had gone hungry.
“We may stunt the dragonets’ growth,” Bekka added, glancing longingly toward her Pinorth. “Only Qinth is thriving.”
“That’s because we’re giving her the best of all the pickings,” K’dan said.
“We need to move to someplace where we can gather a herd, plant crops, fish,” Xhinna agreed, shaking her head dejectedly. “I haven’t found that yet.”
She had taken to bringing at least one other rider with her on her forays. Night after night they’d return with the blue’s color nearly matching the dawn sky, he was so tired.
“If we go to ground, the Mrreows will get us,” K’dan said. “If we stay here …”
“We could go back to the Weyrs,” Colfet suggested.
“I don’t think so,” K’dan said, his lips pursed tightly.
Xhinna gave him a questioning look.
“I have to wonder why no one’s come yet,” he said.
“They would have to time it,” Bekka said.
“Maybe they don’t know where we are,” K’dan suggested. “Or maybe they’re afraid to time it after what happened to Fiona and the others.”
“It doesn’t matter. At this rate, we’ll lose everything,” Bekka said. She glanced at Xhinna. “What are you going to do?”
“What are we going to do,” Xhinna corrected her. Bekka’s eyes flashed angrily. Xhinna ignored her and glanced questioningly to Colfet and K’dan.
“We’ve got one flying dragon, two injured dragons, and twenty-two other hatchlings,” K’dan said, ticking off the numbers on his fingers. His eyes suddenly lit as he said, “Who are now old enough to go between.”
“Just,” Xhinna agreed. “But they’re not old enough to fly.”
“Didn’t the weyrlings from Fort go between with their riders?” Bekka asked, her eyes animated with excitement. “Could we do that?”
“Maybe,” K’dan said. “But it’s dangerous. And all those times they had Lorana or Fiona leading them.” Bekka gave him an inquiring look and he explained. “Even T’mar had to admit that Lorana has an uncanny sense of time and place. Fiona seems to have inherited it.”
“Inherited?” Bekka asked.
“Well, inherited isn’t exactly the right word, but Fiona might have gotten the ability from Lorana,” K’dan said. “They can talk to each other sometimes.”
“Like dragons?” Bekka asked, eyes aglow as she reached out to her own queen. An instant later, her eyes narrowed and she studied K’dan. “Can you do it, too?”
“No; I’ve tried,” he admitted.
“Well,” Bekka said, “what are we going to do?”
“Dragons can do anything,” Taria said.
“If they’ve the strength,” Xhinna said. She shrugged as she added jokingly, “And the firestone.” Her grin died on her lips as her words gave her an idea.
“What?” Taria prompted.
“Firestone,” Xhinna said. “We can use firestone.”
“How?” K’dan asked.
“We could set a fire, burn a section of the forest, clear a space where we could keep a herd.”
“Wouldn’t that make things easier for the Mrreows?” Bekka asked.
“Not if we chose a high place, a plateau somewhere,” Xhinna said. “I’d thought of it before, but clearing all the trees and undergrowth … But with firestone we could do it in a day or less!”
“Xhinna,” Taria began slowly, “do you remember that fire we saw the other night?”
“When it was raining?” Bekka asked, frowning. “I thought it was lightning.”
“But we didn’t hear any thunder,” Xhinna allowed. “And if we set a fire during a downpour it wouldn’t last long—”