“Danirry lost her family in the Plague when she had fifteen Turns,” Nerra explained, her eyes going dark with a rage that Xhinna could almost feel radiating from her. “She was shunted from aunt to uncle, and never fed.”
“You’ve seventeen Turns?” Xhinna asked.
“Only queens take girls,” Danirry said.
“Or greens or blues,” Xhinna said. She could not help taking on a tender expression as she added, “Like my Tazith.”
“You’re a wingleader?” Alimma asked, pointing to her rank knot.
Xhinna nodded. She was surprised at how the notion no longer seemed strange to her.
“Are you?” Danirry asked. Xhinna could see a faint glimmer of hope spark in the girl.
Xhinna nodded again. “We ride in Search, and our need is immediate.”
“Cliova, Mirressa,” Nerra said nodding to the two quiet girls standing somewhat behind Alimma, “what say you?”
Cliova gave Alimma a questioning look and the other nodded once in a small, quick jerk, her eyes still on Xhinna. Seeming to sense Cliova’s anxiety, Alimma reached a hand back for Cliova to grasp.
“I’ll go, if you want me,” Mirressa said, giving Xhinna a coy look. She had a high, childlike voice. Xhinna guessed that she had perhaps thirteen Turns, maybe less.
I can see why some bronze riders hate this, Xhinna thought. Mirressa was cute in a childish way but no more; to have one so young make eyes at her left Xhinna feeling uneasy, like she needed to wash her hands. Then she realized that Mirressa was scared and trying to appear older than she was.
She has strength, Tazith told her. Mother strength.
Yes, now Xhinna could see it. She could imagine this girl grown into motherhood, fiercely fighting for her children, taking on all opponents—and winning.
“We’ve a chance that there will be greens in the Hatching,” Xhinna said to her. “Would you be willing to ride a green dragon?”
“And fight Thread?” Mirressa asked, suddenly coming alive, her voice no longer simply bubbly but determined.
“Yes.”
Mirressa stepped forward. “I’ll do it.”
“Are we going now?” Jirana asked suddenly. “We’ve got another stop and I need to use the necessary first.”
“I’ll take you,” Mirressa said, stepping forward and extending her hand. Jirana took it unhesitatingly and followed Mirressa from the Great Hall.
“We’ll get our things,” Alimma said, turning to leave and pulling Cliova with her. Danirry said nothing, glancing silently at Nerra and then back to Xhinna, giving the blue rider a scrutinizing look.
Xhinna walked over to her and reached out a hand. Danirry stared at it for a moment, then raised her hand to take Xhinna’s in return. Xhinna lifted the hand to study it and frowned.
“I bite them when they get ugly,” Danirry said, glancing at her fingernails, which were bitten to the quick.
“Then you should never bite them,” Xhinna said, smiling at the surprised look on the girl. “You’ve got pretty hands, and they’ll look prettier with nice nails.”
Danirry jerked her hand from Xhinna’s as though stung. Xhinna turned to Nerra, who gestured, urging patience.
“Don’t you need to get your things?” Xhinna asked.
“No, nothing’s mine—I should leave it for the next girl,” Danirry said.
Xhinna bit her tongue on a sharp retort. This girl was clearly convinced she was worthless. She wondered why both Jirana and Tazith thought she would Impress. Xhinna’s nose twitched, and she realized that Danirry had not cleaned her clothes in a while either.
“Danirry, why don’t you go check on Mirressa and Jirana,” Nerra said, gesturing toward the exit. The girl nodded once and scuttled away, her shoulders slouched, her bare feet dragging on the floor.
“A dragon won’t put up with that,” Xhinna said as soon as the girl was out of earshot.
“She gives the others her food; gives them the new clothes,” Nerra said, shaking her head with a sad smile. “She’s lost half a stone’s weight since she came here.”
“What happened?”
“The Plague, the famine that followed, aunts and uncles who had too little of their own, who fed her last, worked her hardest,” Nerra said. She frowned, eyes narrowed. “She came here from somewhere nearby, but won’t say where. She arrived in my camp two days before you, half-dead with hunger.” She paused. “She bartered down to the very last thing she could offer for food, until that final time.” Nerra sighed. “She’s not the first and won’t be the last, I’m afraid. But after that, she lost interest in eating.”
“We’ll take care of her,” Xhinna said. She could guess how Danirry could become the fighter Tazith and Jirana had seen in her. The thought of what the girl had gone through filled her with rage. “Did you find the one who made that last ‘barter’?” she asked, her voice low with anger.
“She was old enough—though far too thin for anyone to think she was of age,” Nerra said.
When the others came back, each with a small carisak, Xhinna asked, “Are you ready?”
Danirry was, surprisingly, the first to nod. Alimma was not far behind her. Cliova seemed to take Alimma’s nod as indication of her own agreement, and Mirressa could do no more than bob her head nervously.
“When will we see you again?” Nerra asked, moving to hug each of her charges.
“I think you’ll see us—all—soon,” Xhinna told her. “But we’ll have nearly three Turns more ourselves.”
“And I’ll have a queen,” Jirana declared brightly. “The best queen in all Pern.” There was some hidden sadness behind her cheer, something Xhinna couldn’t quite pin down. The girl must have felt her unease for she turned to Xhinna and raised her arms, demanding to be picked up. Xhinna’s eyes narrowed in suspicion even as she complied, and the little girl whispered in her ear, “Nothing lasts forever.”
Xhinna shivered. What must it be like, she thought, to know what will come and be unable to change it? She hugged Jirana tightly. “Whatever it is, little one, I’ll be there for you.”
“I know,” Jirana said in a ragged voice.
“There are only four here; I thought you said five,” Xhinna said, changing the subject.
“One more,” Jirana agreed, “but not from here.”
Xhinna narrowed her eyes. “Please?” the little dark-haired girl pleaded. “It’ll be all right, I know it.”
Nerra escorted them to the courtyard and stood, with Jefric at her back, waving as Tazith lifted into the sky with his increased burden.
“Igen next,” Jirana said. Xhinna glanced at her in a mix of surprise and concern. “I’ve got the image, can Tazith get it from me?”
Tazith?
She gives a good reference, the blue responded, relaying the image to Xhinna who closed her eyes for a moment to “see” it better.
In the image, the sun was low in the evening sky and black dots were visible in the Weyr Bowl. Xhinna recognized one of the larger ones as a trader dray.
Without further urging, Tazith went between.
The dots below them enlarged into shadows and men as Tazith made a gentle landing in the center of Igen’s Weyr Bowl. The men had stopped, and Xhinna could tell that they were perplexed by her arrival.
“Greetings, dragonrider,” a man said as he stepped forward from the shadows.
“Grandfather!” Jirana claimed, jumping down from Tazith and flinging herself into his arms. “It’s me, Jirana!”
“Jirana?” Azeez scooped her up with a deep laugh and hugged her tightly. “You’ve gotten bigger and heavier.” He paused to examine her more closely. “Wiser, too.”