“I’d take it as a personal favor,” Xhinna told him honestly.
R’ney held her gaze for a moment longer before reluctantly yielding in the contest of wills. “I’ll think about it.”
Xhinna’s wing gathered slowly at one table in the High Kitchen, late for breakfast. Mirressa and Taria came together, Mirressa giving R’ney a brief smile before assuring him, “Javissa’s watching the babies. Fiona’s with her.”
“And the baby?”
Mirressa smiled. “She’s asleep.” Mirressa cast a wistful eye on the food spread on the table and R’ney busied himself making sure that the nursing mother had her fill. Xhinna was also hungrier than usual, filling her plate three times before settling back, content.
R’ney picked at his food until J’valin and Mirressa chided him, and then, to stop their nagging, the brown rider emptied his plate twice before announcing loudly that he was full.
A silence descended on the group and Xhinna tried to think what to say to relieve it. Finally, in irritation, she rose from the table and strode out of the hall.
She and Tazith flew out far beyond the usual bounds of the Weyr and landed in a field and she searched it, looking for something to mark the blue rider’s passing but found nothing and, in disgust, flew back to the Meeyu Plateau. When she saw R’ney’s Rowerth down in the slight valley below, she told Tazith to land beside him.
She found R’ney near the sluiceway that he and Danirry had built. She stood there for several moments, mute, trying to think of something to say. Finally, “She saved Pern, you know.”
R’ney turned to her, silent.
“You did, too,” Xhinna said. She gestured to the sluiceway. “The gold helped save us. We used it to rebuild where nothing else would work.”
R’ney nodded silently. It was a discovery Turns old now, the realization that the gold dust could be used to finance the rebuilding that would be needed to support the return of the Western dragons to the Northern Continent. It wasn’t enough to have two thousand dragons—they had to be fed, too. Without the gold to encourage the growth of herds, there would be too few herdbeasts for the dragons’ needs. And the gold had already helped those desperate to rebuild and recover from the Plague that had killed so many. That it had gone more to Crom, Igen, Keroon, and Telgar had as much to do with who had been sending it as with where it was needed.
“And she saved us again last night,” Xhinna continued. It had been Danirry who had warned about the Thread falling over the Eastern Isle—her warning had been her last words.
“I know,” R’ney said, the words coming raw out of his throat.
“More people will die to save Pern,” Xhinna told him.
Again, R’ney nodded. At last he turned to her. “Your little one, the trader girl, she told you, didn’t she?”
“No,” Xhinna said. “But I think she knew.”
“And she thinks you’re next, doesn’t she?”
Xhinna said nothing, but prodded by the look in his eyes, she nodded once, curtly.
“Must be hard.”
“No, not really.”
“Not you,” R’ney said. “Jirana. Bearing all that weight on her own.”
They stood together, silent, their eyes darting around the clearing until finally, R’ney said, “You know, she doesn’t need anything.”
Xhinna looked over at him, surprised.
“Danirry,” R’ney said to clarify. He nodded at the sluice and the mud and then pointed to the Meeyu Plateau. “We can’t forget her, not even if we try.”
“I’ll miss her,” Xhinna confessed. She remembered the young, painfully thin girl she had first met at Crom Hold, and recalled how strong that girl had grown in the Turns since. She had saved Pern—twice. Surely that was worth more than any memorial.
“I’ll miss you,” R’ney said, meeting her eyes and then looking away into the distance.
“As I told Jirana,” Xhinna replied testily, “I’m not gone yet.”
Xhinna’s hope to make Danirry’s remembrance a simple affair for her wing only didn’t survive its first encounter with Jepara and, judging by the raised eyebrows from Fiona later, wouldn’t have lasted any longer if the obstreperous queen rider hadn’t been the first to find Xhinna.
“No, no, no—you can’t!” Jepara insisted, her voice rising with each word.
“It’s the wing’s affair,” Xhinna said, taken aback.
“Did she not belong to the Weyr, too?” Jepara demanded, pressing on before Xhinna could reply to ask, “And wasn’t she one of the first new riders to Impress? And didn’t she suggest sluicing for gold?” Xhinna was given just enough time to nod before Jepara stormed on, “And shouldn’t we all have the chance to thank and honor her for all she’s done for us?”
“She wouldn’t want a big fuss,” Xhinna protested.
“She’s not here!” Jepara said. “Her wishes don’t count!”
Xhinna stared at her in surprise, and Jepara moved closer, holding her hands out entreatingly. “It’s our chance to say good-bye to her.” Jepara closed her eyes tightly and when she opened them again, the corners were wet with the tears that she’d only half-suppressed. “We’re going to lose more before this Pass is over, Xhinna. Do you really want to start this way?”
“What do you suggest?” Xhinna asked, coming as close as she could to admitting how little energy she had after the strain of the past several days.
Jepara leaned down to look deep into Xhinna’s eyes and then, reaching a hand to touch her wrist, said quietly, “How about you let me organize this? As one of her Weyrwomen?”
Xhinna nodded silently.
And so now, as the sun matched the point at which Danirry’s final lifesaving cry had been uttered, the six Weyrs were all gathered, their wings arrayed in Flights and the Flights stacked on top of each other as the queens of all flew out to sea, their path lit by the dragons of all five Weyrleaders.
In the center of the V formation a single bright light—a torch to mark the lost rider and dragon—was seen, falling to the sea and sizzling out as it hit the water.
Then, in a brilliant burst of light, all the oldest dragons breathed fire into the air.
And then it was dark, quiet, and cold.
Weyr by Weyr they departed for their homes, until only the Sky wings remained stubbornly behind.
Rest well, blue rider, Xhinna thought, knowing her words would be echoed by Tazith to all the dragons surrounding them. You’ve earned it.
TWENTY-ONE
Feast for the Fallen
“K’dan approved it,” J’keran said as he greeted the returning Sky riders with a cask of special brew. Fiona had told Xhinna to have them land on the Meeyu Plateau, and Xhinna was surprised to see their path illuminated by a huge bonfire that had not been there when they’d left. J’keran waved at the cask, adding, “Guaranteed to do the job and no more.”
Xhinna nodded gratefully to the brown rider.
K’dan moved forward, his prized gitar hung over his shoulder. “Tonight I am here as harper.” He nodded into the distance, and Xhinna was surprised to see X’lerin step out of the shadows.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and raised her opposite hand to cover it—from the angle, she knew it was R’ney’s hand. Taria moved in to her other side and wrapped an arm around Xhinna’s waist.
“Weyrleader,” Xhinna said, nodding to X’lerin. “Will you drink with us?”
“My pleasure,” X’lerin said. He nodded to J’keran to do the honors, and in moments the cask was broached and mugs filled. X’lerin took a quick sip, choked, and passed the mug to Xhinna. “Wingleader.”