But now, talking to Taria, she found herself fighting with the person she loved more than any other.
“I don’t think you care about the baby, I don’t think you care about Coranth’s eggs,” Taria said, flinging the words at Xhinna. “You certainly don’t care for Razz, it’s a wonder any of the Mrreows are still alive.”
Ah! Xhinna thought, back to the Mrreows. She had rejected Taria’s suggestion from the first and wouldn’t budge on it—she could not imagine for a moment that having a Mrreow, however tame, around the dragon’s eggs would be anything other than a threat to dragon and human alike. X’lerin and K’dan agreed with her, although she wondered: If she thought otherwise, would they be persuaded by her arguments?
“But if we teach them to live with the dragons and respect the humans, they could guard the eggs from the tunnel snakes!” Taria had protested.
“And eat the hatchlings and maul the humans,” Xhinna had replied, shaking her head vehemently. “It’s just too dangerous, Taria, we can’t risk it.” She had paused for a moment before adding, “You know more than most—think of what one did to Coranth!”
“Weyrlings will claw and bite when they’re newborn. The Mrreows just need to be trained,” Taria had said. She’d pursed her lips and glowered at Xhinna. “You just don’t like them.”
“We can’t risk it,” Xhinna had repeated with finality. That had been a mistake. Taria’s eyes had widened in hurt, and she had turned away from Xhinna, refusing to talk further.
And now she looked ready to do it again. Moody! Like a baby! Xhinna fumed, not knowing how to handle this woman who was so different from the calm, poised person she’d met at Telgar.
Taria must have felt the strain, too, for she lifted her eyes to Xhinna and began reasonably, “Look, if you say we’re going to lose a dozen hatchlings, why not risk having Razz’s help?”
“And what about the others?” Xhinna asked. “You can’t say that Razz can do it all on her own. She’s got to eat, she’s got to rest.” She paused. “You didn’t name the others nice names—they’re Bite, Claw, and Scratch, remember?”
“We didn’t spend as much time with them,” Taria complained. “If we’d had one person with each of them, all the time taking care of them—”
“But we didn’t, and we don’t know if they’d be different,” Xhinna said. She offered some praise. “Maybe it’s just your way with Razz that makes her easier to deal with.”
“Maybe it’s your way of running things that makes the others nasty,” Taria snapped back.
“I’ve got to bring the weyrlings back,” Xhinna said, rising. Brushing off some sand, she started toward Tazith.
“That’s your best excuse? The weyrlings can’t wait?” Taria asked, gesturing to them as they cavorted in the sea, playing amongst the waves. “Why don’t we work this out? Don’t you want eighteen eggs in this clutch?” She paused and threw in another dig. “After all, it’s the only one you’ll have.”
Xhinna frowned, shaking her head. “Tazith can mate again; there’ll be more clutches.”
“Not with my Coranth,” Taria declared, her eyes flashing. “Not if you won’t take the least precaution to save her eggs.”
“We’ve got a guard,” Xhinna reminded her. “I doubled it.”
“Ever watch the queens when they come here?” Taria asked, glancing toward the gold forms in the sea beyond them. “Ever notice how they behave?”
“They’re just giving Coranth space,” Xhinna said, using her old answer to this old argument one more time.
“Maybe,” Taria said. “Or maybe they don’t like the ground here. Maybe they know something we don’t.”
“Bekka’s Pinorth would have told us,” Xhinna said. She didn’t tell Taria that she’d had Bekka ask Pinorth to make a careful tour of the grounds and that the little queen had found nothing amiss. She made a placating gesture toward Taria. “Look, this is new for us, for all of us. I’m worried, you’re worried, we’re all worried.”
“Then why don’t you do something?” Taria demanded. Xhinna started to respond, decided it was futile, and closed her mouth, shaking her head sadly.
“I’m doing the best I can, Taria,” she said after a moment, when she had managed to find her voice once more. “We all are.”
“But what if it’s not good enough?” Taria asked her with feeling. “What then? How does Pern survive if you’re wrong?”
“There’ll be other Hatchings,” Xhinna said. “We can try something new—”
“But the weyrlings will be dead, Xhinna!” Taria wailed, waving her arms in the air. “They’ll be dead. We can’t get them back; we can’t make new ones.”
Xhinna took a deep breath, startled by Taria’s renewed outburst, and tried again, slowly. “K’dan said—”
“Shards to K’dan!” Taria shouted. “Shards to X’lerin and all the others—they aren’t here! They put you in charge and you’re killing our hatchlings!” Tears streamed down her face. “You’re killing them, and you’ll do nothing to stop it.” Her lower lip trembled as she added, “I don’t think you want them. Maybe you don’t want to remember it, Xhinna, but you’re a woman. Not a wingleader, not a blue rider, a woman! And we’re supposed to protect the young.”
Xhinna’s eyes boggled at Taria’s words and so many things bubbled through her mind that she couldn’t say any of them.
“Go on, Xhinna,” Taria said, waving her away. “Go bring the queens back to the Weyr. Pretend you’re a wingleader with them—maybe they’ll believe you.”
Xhinna started to say something, to rage at her, but she didn’t have the energy. She’d done so much for this Weyr, worked so hard. She had no energy left for this lunatic bickering. With a sigh, she turned toward the beach and Tazith.
That evening, Xhinna resolved to go find more Candidates on her own. If Jirana was right, and the eggs didn’t all hatch, it would do no harm; and if she was wrong, then there should be enough humans for all the hatchlings—even if she had to make two trips.
She decided that if she went only with Tazith and the lightest of straps, she could easily bring back eight more in the first trip, and she might manage another eight in the second, providing Candidates to spare.
She was climbing onto Tazith when she heard someone approach. It was Jirana.
“Where are you going?” the girl asked.
“I’m going to get more Candidates,” Xhinna said.
“But it’s too late, the eggs are rocking already.”
“Eggs don’t hatch at night,” Xhinna said.
“But they’re rocking right now,” Jirana insisted.
“Come on, I’ll show you,” Xhinna said, lowering a hand to the girl, who clambered up. The child was wrong, just guessing, Xhinna told herself as they rose and glided toward the hatching sands. Taria was there, and so was J’keran, on guard—
Xhinna’s blood pounded when she heard the sounds coming up from the sands below. She heard Taria and J’keran plainly enough and let out an angry sigh. What they were doing clearly wasn’t guarding.
“We should go back,” Xhinna said, “it’s past your bedtime.”
“I’ve heard those noises before,” Jirana said matter-of-factly. “I’ve heard them with Taria and J’keran before.”
That was something Xhinna didn’t want to hear, and her blood boiled as she thought of all the taunts her friend had thrown at her, when for nights she and the brown rider had been partying when they were supposed to be guarding—