“No,” Taria said. The others looked at her, so she explained, “I asked Lorana.” She made a sad face. “He was a nice lad; I’d hoped he’d been saved.”
“Must have been hard on D’gan,” R’ney said.
Xhinna found herself nodding. It was a moment before she realized that silence had descended around her and still another before a cough alerted her to the arrival of a newcomer.
It was Jepara. Xhinna looked up at her.
“So what’s the plan, Sky leader?” Jepara asked, nodding toward Jirana. “My small ears have gone quiet.”
Xhinna gave her a blank look. To her surprise, Jepara scooped up Jirana, took her seat, and placed the younger rider in her lap before leaning forward conspiratorially.
“I’ve seen the charts,” Jepara told them.
“And?”
“And Thread should fall at Nerat and Upper Crom tomorrow morning,” Jepara said. R’ney, Taria, and the others all glanced questioningly at Xhinna, who nodded reluctantly.
“But K’dan says that no Fall, not even dust, was reported,” Xhinna said.
“Would it hurt to be certain?” Taria asked. Xhinna felt a tense agreement from the rest of the riders.
“It would be better if we had Lorana—” Xhinna broke off as she caught a jerky movement opposite the table. She eyed Jirana and Jepara both very carefully. “We’d need someone to give us a good image.”
“That can be arranged,” Jepara said with a wave of her hand.
“And firestone,” Xhinna added.
“That you can get on your own just for the asking,” Jepara said. “Especially if you make it clear that you’ll be practicing with bronzes and browns.”
“And queens?” Xhinna asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.
“Well, at least two,” Jepara agreed. “Although I’d heard that Meeya is getting antsy to do more flying, and perhaps Hannah, Karrina, and Latara.”
“Just look?” Xhinna asked, trying to match Jepara’s innocent tone.
“And where’s the harm in that?” Jepara wondered.
“I can’t see any,” Taria replied, turning to R’ney and asking, “Can you?”
“It’d do us some good,” R’ney replied. He raised an eyebrow at Xhinna. “What do you think?”
Xhinna couldn’t figure out why Taria acted so smug later that night, or why Jirana seemed so unworried when they gathered in the morning until Jepara said, “You’re staying here, of course.”
The queen rider cut off her outburst with a hand. “You must know that K’dan will be keeping his eye on you.”
“And he won’t notice that you and all the rest of the wing are missing?”
“Of course not!”
Xhinna gave her a skeptical look.
“Most of us will be here, training with you, practicing flaming just as he’d want,” R’ney said, taking pity on his wingleader.
“And the missing ones will be dropping practice Thread?” Xhinna guessed.
“Exactly,” Taria said. “It’s just that some of the Thread droppers will need to gather the long willow leaves we use, and others will be up high, and in all that—”
“No one will notice a pair of missing dragons,” Jirana said, smiling happily up at Xhinna.
“Well,” Xhinna said, glancing warningly toward R’ney, “it’s said that a wise wingleader leaves the hard work to her seconds.”
“And we all know you’re wise,” Jepara said in a tone that was just shy of taunting.
Xhinna frowned, then looked around. “We’re a wingsecond short—”
“Ah,” R’ney said, shifting his stance in a way that showed his discomfort with the topic.
Xhinna hated pressing the issue, but felt she had to. “Under the circumstances, it’d be better if we were at our full strength.” She turned her head toward J’valin, rider of blue Nerinath. His dragon was half a Turn younger than R’ney’s brown Rowerth, but he was well grown.
“I was wondering,” interjected a tenor voice as a figure emerged from the knot of riders, “if perhaps you’d be willing to let me …” It was J’keran.
“He’s got experience,” Jepara said, moving close to pitch her words for Xhinna’s ears only.
Certainly he had experience—he’d fought Thread for nearly half a Turn, had nearly killed Xhinna in a drunken rage, and had taken Taria and her Coranth off to live as outlaws even to the point of trying to steal Candidates for Coranth’s clutch.
His life was forfeit to her and she’d given it to the Weyr and, more specifically, to Jirana, whose Mrreow-claw injuries had nearly killed her. Since then, J’keran had slowly transformed from the young girl’s guard to the guard of all the Hatching Grounds for all six Weyrs—and he took his duty very seriously. Since that day when Jirana had touched her queen Laspanth still in the shell and guided the dragonriders to destroy all the ravaging tunnel snakes, not a single egg had been lost. Much—perhaps most—due to J’keran.
Xhinna could sense R’ney’s outrage and Taria’s … challenge—it was not contempt—as clearly as though both were dragons. She understood R’ney’s feelings and spent a few moments coming to grips with Taria’s odd emotions before nodding to the man who stood before her, projecting strength, honesty, and—unless she missed her guess—pure, unadulterated terror.
“Your duty’s done,” Xhinna told him. “You have earned back your honor and your life.” Her eyes strayed to Jirana, who was bouncing on her feet, her throat moving with unspoken words, her eyes silently urging Xhinna on. “If the Weyrwoman is satisfied—”
“More than satisfied!” Jirana cried jubilantly.
“Then, with the Weyrleader’s permission,” Xhinna told J’keran, “I’d be honored to have you fly with us.”
Xhinna felt Taria’s fingers clasp around hers. Xhinna reached around and hugged her, then stood away, watching J’keran’s reaction. She saw his eyes widen and then she nodded to him.
J’keran’s brown Perinth was a fine mount, well grown, well loved, well trained, and proven in countless Falls and mating flights. Xhinna accepted that Perinth might outfly her blue Tazith, that Taria might smile once more at his attention, but she wasn’t upset. Her bonds with Taria, born in youth and first love, were too strong now after Turns together for anyone to sever them.
“We’ll need your Perinth to train with Sarurth, Laspanth, and Rowerth,” Xhinna told him. J’keran nodded, encouraged by the beaming smile from Jirana. “But what about your guard duties?”
“I’ll retain them, if I may,” J’keran said. He raised a hand as he added, “There’s only the one last Hatching, and that will be in a matter of weeks.” He gave her a sad, wistful look that she understood too well—the greens had all chewed firestone and never again could he or Xhinna hope that there might be weyrlings sired by their dragons. “Besides,” he added, nodding toward Jirana, “we’ve arranged a good watch.”
“Very well,” Xhinna said, “you’ll train with the catchers. J’valin and Cliova will take first watch, followed by—”
“If it pleases you, Wingleader,” R’ney cut across her words with a diffident look, “we’ve got that figured out already. What’s needed now is to get on with the flaming before someone starts asking awkward questions.”
Xhinna responded with a flurry of orders and a dismissive wave at the group of catchers.
In short order, she and Tazith were airborne over Eastern Isle, not far from the abandoned camp she’d fled nearly three Turns before.
Lorana says they’re on station, Tazith relayed as Xhinna and three others waited for any sign of the green willow practice Thread they were supposed to be flaming.
Ten minutes later, she was bored and switched, having Tazith climb high to take on a round of practice-Thread flinging. They had just reached their position and were settling on an even path when—