“Not like Coranth,” Xhinna retorted hotly. “They’d maul her first, probably hamstring her, and then—” She broke off, seeing the growing terror in Jirana’s eyes. She took a deep breath and brought her worries under control. “Sweetie,” she told the young girl, “you can’t just think that every soft furry thing is going to be good all the time.”
“She’s right,” Taria said, giving Xhinna a pointed look. “Sometimes you can’t be too careful.”
“No,” Xhinna corrected, “you can never be too careful.” Taria had grown moodier and more worried as her pregnancy really took hold and the Hatching neared.
“Shouldn’t you be off finding Candidates?” Taria asked. The eggs were due to hatch in another three weeks at most, as the old Teaching Ballads warned:
Count three months and more
,
And five heated weeks
,
A day of glory, and
In a month, who seeks?
The three months were the time from mating to clutching, the “five heated weeks” the time on the usually warm Hatching Grounds at the great Weyrs. The “day of glory” was the Hatching and Impression itself, and then, as they’d recently discovered, “in a month, who seeks” meant that the month-old dragonets could actually go between from one place to another, even though they usually took between two and three Turns to reach their full growth.
“Are you two fighting again?” Jirana asked, having recovered from her fright. She looked at Xhinna and then Taria. “I thought you loved each other.”
“We do,” Xhinna told her. “But we can love each other and still disagree.”
Taria snorted. “And people, even dragonriders, can be wrong,” she said. “The smart ones are those who admit it.”
“I was coming to tell you that I’ve arranged to go Search,” Xhinna said as she released Jirana. She was surprised when the girl grabbed her hands and began to rub them.
“I like your hands,” Jirana told her softly. “I feel safe in them.”
Taria glanced sharply at the little girl, then up into Xhinna’s eyes. Her lips quivered for a moment, and then she confessed, “I do, too.”
The tension seemed to drain out of the air as Xhinna met her eyes.
“I get scared sometimes,” Xhinna said softly. She felt Jirana pause in her rubbing, then resume it again as though she were performing some sort of healing massage, like her brother J’riz.
“I’m terrified all the time,” Taria replied. She glanced down at her belly, still flat, at the Meeyus in their cage and then, fleetingly, toward the sandy beach where Coranth’s eggs lay.
“V’lex and Sarinth are with the eggs,” Xhinna reassured her.
“I should bring Coranth back to her eggs,” Taria said, rising. She motioned for Jirana, but the girl ignored her, sitting firmly in Xhinna’s lap, rubbing her fingers in patterns around the backs of Xhinna’s hands.
Tazith? Could you come here please? Xhinna called.
Tazith flew in a moment later, landing nearby.
“We’re ready now,” Jirana said, getting up from Xhinna’s lap and extending a hand to help her to her feet. Xhinna grinned at the little girl’s offer, but accepted it solemnly and used a bit of Jirana’s weight to help her to her feet. “Do you feel better now?”
“Yes,” Xhinna told her, “I do.”
“My mother gets mad when I fight,” Jirana said.
“I get mad when I fight,” Xhinna admitted. “Sometimes it’s hard not to, though, isn’t it?”
“You mean it doesn’t get easier when you get older?” Jirana asked in surprise.
“It gets easier to stop being mad,” Xhinna told her. “And it gets easier to decide not to be mad. But sometimes you still get mad.”
“Oh.” Jirana raised her hands for Xhinna to pick her up. Even at ten, the child was small enough that she was nothing to carry, and Xhinna slung her on one hip with the practice of a child-minder and walked toward Tazith. Jirana leaned in suddenly and kissed Xhinna’s cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Xhinna said, returning the kiss with a big, loud smack. Jirana giggled, then gestured for her to raise her up to Tazith. Xhinna complied and climbed up behind her, rigging the riding straps for the two of them before urging Tazith into the sky.
Once they were airborne, Jirana leaned back and tilted her head so that her words could carry to Xhinna’s ears. “Can I come with you?”
“I’m bringing you back to your mother,” Xhinna said, “isn’t that enough?”
“I want to come with you,” Jirana said.
“I don’t think your mother would like that,” Xhinna said. “It might be dangerous.”
“Not with you,” Jirana replied confidently. “If my mother says it’s all right, will you let me?”
Xhinna smiled. “We’ll see.”
“It seems they can swim just fine,” K’dan said as he watched Lurenth prance in the waves. It had been an unanswered question as to whether the weyrlings could swim until K’dan had asked his bronze to try the water. Watching Lurenth cautiously approach and then just as anxiously retreat from the waves that lapped the shore had brought a smile to everyone’s lips. Lurenth had turned back to whuff at his rider before sternly braving his way into the waves and then out beyond them.
I’m floating! Lurenth had declared, gamely turning onto his back and stretching his wings, sculling his way forward with his hind legs.
“Yes, you are!” K’dan had called back, laughing at his dragon’s joy. “Don’t go too far, or Tazith will have to bring you back.”
I won’t, the little bronze affirmed.
“Well, that’s excellent,” Xhinna said, sending a thought to Tazith instructing the blue to keep a close eye just the same. “We can get them all down and exercising.”
“That’ll help with their muscles and growth,” K’dan said. “But it’ll make them hungrier.”
“I think better hungrier than flabby,” X’lerin said as he moved down the sands to approach them. “I’ll have W’vin arrange for the rest to be brought down in rotation.”
K’dan nodded. “Until we’re sure they’re safe, it’s best not to have too many in the water at once.”
X’lerin frowned. “I’ve never heard of anything like a sea tunnel snake.”
“No,” K’dan agreed. “And I checked with Colfet. He says that he’s never heard of anything in the sea that would attack a dragonet.”
X’lerin nodded, turning around to glance at the distant eggs that lay on the sands.
“It’s nothing like the Weyrs,” K’dan said as he followed the other bronze rider’s gaze.
“We’re going to need Candidates soon,” Xhinna said.
K’dan turned back to face her. “What do you propose?”
Xhinna shrugged, turning a questioning look to X’lerin, who gestured for her to continue. She told K’dan, “I can’t see any choice but—”
“Hold on,” K’dan said, raising a hand. “I was thinking about this …” He jerked his head for them to follow him. X’lerin raised his eyebrows toward Xhinna, who shook her head to show that she knew no more than he.
“It’s over here,” K’dan said, leading the way. “I made sure to draw it above the high tide line.”
“Draw what?” X’lerin asked.
“This,” K’dan said, pointing to a series of lines and squiggles on the sand before them. He bent down and picked up the stick that clearly had been his writing instrument.
“And what is this, harper?” X’lerin wondered.
“Well …,” K’dan began slowly, “I can’t claim to know more than anyone else on this, but I’ve been thinking about what happened to Fiona and the others—”