Dragongirl (27 page)

“Just the other day she said that she wanted a group of men, too,” K’lior said, smiling wickedly at Fiona.

Fiona was out of her chair in an instant, her cheeks burning.

“Fiona!” Cisca called even as she batted at K’lior and Kindan and Lorana rose from their chairs to follow the Telgar Weyrwoman. “I did not say that. I merely said that it must be hard—”

But Fiona merely turned back to her, saying carefully, “Weyrwoman, we’ve taken too much of your time,” before heading out to the Weyr Bowl and her queen.

Talenth! Tell Seban and Bekka we’re leaving!

“Fiona!” Lorana called from behind her. Fiona turned toward her, furious, her lips trembling. When Lorana caught up to her, she grabbed Fiona’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “I don’t think she was trying to be mean. I think K’lior’s right: She’s just jealous.”

“Of what?” Fiona cried. “Of a mating flight?”

“No,” Lorana told her softly, “of us: what we are.”

“What are we?” Fiona asked quietly.

“Friends, I should hope,” Lorana said. “And more.”

“How can we be friends? We love the same person,” Fiona cried. She shook her head, tears flowing down her cheeks as she continued, “I can’t take him away from you, I swore I wouldn’t.” She looked up at Lorana. “Maybe it’s best if you and he were in another Weyr.”

“And what about T’mar?”

“I love him,” Fiona said, even as she realized, with the words, that he could be her anchor, he could save her from her misery.

“If we leave, what about T’mar?” Lorana said. “And Zirenth?”

Fiona absorbed her words slowly, her tears stilling and her eyes going wide. “Are you bound to them like you are to me?”

“I don’t think so,” Lorana said. She smiled at Fiona as she added, “But I’m glad to see that you realize we’re bound to each other.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, that’s something that you’re going to have to get over,” Lorana told her firmly. Fiona took a step back, straining at Lorana’s hold, her eyes wide. “If you love someone, you have to accept that sometimes you’ll hurt them, too.”

“But I don’t want to hurt you,” Fiona repeated. Her tears started again as she added, “And I love Kindan; I’m sorry, but it’s true.”

“Shh,” Lorana said softly, pulling Fiona closer to her. “Why shouldn’t you love him? You’ve got a big heart and you give it to everyone.”

The sound of footsteps broke the moment and Fiona looked up to see K’lior and Cisca standing by them.

“I’m sorry,” K’lior said, “I spoke without thinking.”

“He does that sometimes,” Cisca agreed, punching him lightly on the arm. “But, you know, he always
means
well.”

“Will you forgive me?” K’lior begged Fiona.

“Of course she will,” Lorana spoke up firmly. “She knows that sometimes we hurt those we love the most.”

“At least I do now,” Fiona said, dabbing away her tears.

“Come on back with us and we’ll give you a proper Fort lunch,” Cisca said, gesturing toward the Kitchen Cavern. “Besides,” she added, “Ellor would never forgive me if she didn’t get to feed up Lorana, here.”

“Oh,” Fiona said, trying for a lighter tone, “so this is
all
about Lorana, is it?”

“Of course it is,” Cisca said, holding out a hand toward Fiona. “It’s only because she can talk to all the dragons, you know.” When Fiona accepted her hand, Cisca maneuvered the smaller Weyrwoman until she had her arm wrapped around her shoulder. As they walked back to the Kitchen Cavern, she leaned down and said quietly, “You have a knack for making your life difficult.”

“My father preferred the word ‘interesting,’” Fiona said, glancing up into Cisca’s warm brown eyes.

“Well, just so you know, I’m not jealous,” Cisca told her. “I’ve seen a few of these relationships with the blue riders and green riders and—”

“They don’t last,” Fiona finished for her. Cisca’s eyes widened. “I know, I’ve seen them, too.”

“Just so you know what you’re getting into,” Cisca said. She looked measuringly at Fiona and then added more kindly, “Although, sometimes they do work out.”

“I know that, too,” Fiona said. “It takes a lot of work.”

“All relationships take work,” Cisca said. She shrugged. “Really, when you think about it, anything you care to do well takes work.”

“N
ow, you be good and
listen
to your father,” Merika called up from the ground below as Bekka settled into her perch behind Seban and in front of Fiona on Talenth’s golden neck.

“I will,” Bekka promised.

“And
you,”
Merika said, wagging a finger at Seban, “be good and listen to your daughter.”

“I will,” Seban called back with a chuckle.

“And both of you,” Merika went on, waving a hand in disgust at Seban’s amusement, “remember that there are those who love you and they’re only
between
away.”

“We will!” Bekka called back loudly.

“You too, Weyrwoman,” Cisca called, jumping up and down to gain Fiona’s attention.

“We will!” Fiona called back just as loudly, causing Cisca to gape in surprise and then laugh.

Come on, Talenth, let’s go!
Fiona said to her queen as she waved goodbye to the Fort Weyr riders and weyrfolk gathered to see them off.
Fort Hold
.

The gold and bronze climbed up quickly in the afternoon air, circled the Star Stones once, and were gone,
between
to Fort Hold.

F
iona insisted upon circling Fort Hold’s Great Hall before they glided down for a landing in the field outside the Healer Hall.

“So, you’re back?” Betrony said as he approached from the Healer Hall. “And you’ve brought trouble?”

“We’ll need Birentir’s gear, sir,” Fiona said.

“Birentir, eh?” Betrony said, his eyebrows arching. “Good choice, good choice.” He glanced inquiringly toward Seban and Bekka.

Fiona got the hint and gestured toward them. “Masterhealer, may I present, with my compliments, Seban, formerly rider of blue Serth, and his daughter, Bekka.” To Bekka and Seban she said, “This is Masterhealer Betrony.”

“Kindan!” A loud voice boomed from the distance. “Report!”

“He’s supposed to use a drum,” Kindan growled affectionately. He turned to Lorana. “I’m sure he’d like to meet you, too.”

“And Kindan wants the protection,” Fiona added with a giggle. She waved Lorana off with Kindan. “I’ll catch up when we’re done here.”

Kindan waved a hand behind his back in acknowledgment.

“Don’t be too long and we’ll drill on recognition points!” Fiona shouted after them. She turned back to Betrony just as Lindorm and Cerra strode by with Seban and Bekka in tow.

“We’ll get them settled in, Master,” Cerra said in passing.

Betrony waved them on, adding, “I’ll have a longer meeting with you later.”

“Don’t worry,” Lindorm told Bekka as she turned wide, worried eyes toward the Masterhealer, “he’s not half as fearsome as the Masterharper.”

“You’ll be meeting him, too, tonight at dinner,” Betrony added with a smile.

“Don’t worry, Bekka,” Fiona told the young girl, “I survived.”

“You spent most of your time hiding up at the Hold, as I recall,” Betrony said reminiscently.

“Not true,” Fiona said. “Half the time I was down here, hiding from Father.”

“Or hunting tunnel snakes.”

“That, too,” Fiona agreed. She glanced toward the retreating forms of Seban and Bekka as they entered the hall. “They’re really very good.”

“We’ll see,” Betrony said judiciously. “Of course,” he cocked his head at her, “if they are, you know I’ll be wanting
more.”

Fiona chuckled. She turned toward the Hold and said to the Master, “If you’ll forgive me, I think I might have time to pay my respects.”

“Your father’s up with the Masterharper,” Betrony said, gesturing in the other direction.

“Then I’m
certain
to have enough time to pay my respects!” Fiona said, marching off toward the distant Fort Hold.

T
he guards were overjoyed to greet her and waved her in through the great doors; once inside, Fiona turned to her left, heading toward the kitchen.

“There’s no use coming here—there’ll be no food until this evening, as you should well know!” a voice called out peremptorily as Fiona approached.

“Perhaps a cup of
klah?”
Fiona asked in her most waifish, pleading voice.

“Fiona?” the voice called.

“Neesa?” Fiona asked as she rounded the bend. She was met and hugged immediately by a round woman with gray hair and bright eyes. Immediately, Neesa thrust her away again with her hands on her shoulders, crying, “My, how you’ve grown!”

“I’ve nearly seventeen Turns now,” Fiona said. “I was back in time at Igen.”

“Back in time?” Neesa said. “Sallit, did you hear, Fiona went back in time.”

“She did, did she?” Sallit said as she bustled forward. “You’re so tall!”

“I grew,” Fiona said with a small smile.

“And you’ve got your own Weyr from what I hear,” Neesa said as she gestured toward the worktable. “Sit down, I want to hear all about it.”

“That’s good,” Fiona said, moving toward the table. Something in her manner alarmed Neesa who gave her a worried look and said, “What?”

Fiona’s face crumpled and she was in tears even before she found the bench. “I think I’ve done something terribly wrong!”

“Probably no worse than the tunnel snakes,” Sallit said, setting some mugs on the table and dragging a hot kettle from the nearby stove. “Let me brew us some fresh
klah
and see how the rolls are doing.”

“While you tell me all about it,” Neesa said, sitting beside Fiona and wrapping an arm around her comfortingly.

“You’ll hate me,” Fiona said.

“I doubt that,” Neesa said. “But it’s obvious you need to get this out of your heart.”

Slowly, Fiona told the two older women everything. Neesa had been her confidante, anchor, and disciplinarian all through her childhood at Fort Hold. The old cook doted on her and spoiled her, but only up to a certain point.

“You’re a Lady Holder and must act like it,” Neesa had told her many times.

Now, she haltingly told them about her time in Igen Weyr, about going to Telgar, about Talenth getting the sickness, how Lorana and Kindan came with the cure—

“He’s always been a good lad!” Neesa interjected.

—about T’mar’s injury—

“And
he
was the one …?” Sallit asked when Fiona got to that part of the story and Fiona nodded. “Ohhh!”

“Keep going,” Neesa prompted. Fiona told them about the mating flight and its consequences and how she was trying—

“You’ve taken a load on your plate and that’s no mistake,” Sallit said, glancing to Neesa.

“But you’re not the first,” Neesa told Fiona soothingly.

“What should I do?”

“You do what’s right for you,” Neesa told her. “You do what your heart tells you.”

“But my heart—”

“If you go this way, understand that it’s hard,” Neesa said. “For some it works, but for most it doesn’t.”

“Lorana said that there’d be pain.”

“She’s a smart one,” Sallit said. “There’s no love without pain, don’t let anyone fool you.”

“So I’m not terrible?” Fiona asked them. “I can do this?”

“I didn’t say that you could,” Neesa replied quickly. “Nor did I say that you couldn’t, either.” Fiona gave her a miserable look. “It’s your path, child. You’re the only one who can know for certain. And you’re
not
terrible.”

Neesa rose and Fiona rose with her. “You’d best get back to them, either way,” Neesa said. “You said you were going to drill them on going
between?”

Fiona nodded.

“So it’s best you be about it, then,” Neesa said, motioning Fiona toward the door. “Come on, I’ll walk you back.”

When they reached the Healer Hall, Neesa stopped and hugged Fiona.

“You know, you had his heart a long time ago,” Neesa said. “Maybe you did him a kindness, taking those Turns in the past.”

Fiona shook her head. “I can’t be Koriana.”

Neesa smiled at her. “You never were: You were always your own person.” She reached out a finger and touched Fiona’s nose lightly. “You remember that. Remember that you’re special.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good,” Neesa said. “Now leave.” Fiona’s eyes widened and the old cook grinned at her. “The sooner you’re gone, the sooner you can come back.”

FOURTEEN

Sands heat
,
Dragons prove
.
Times meet
,
Eggs move
.

Telgar Weyr, morning, AL 508.2.15

Birentir’s ministrations to T’mar the following morning proved Mekiar’s point: The healer was courteous, attentive, and efficient. T’mar, however, was querulous, difficult, and restless.

“You be careful, bronze rider, Talenth is certain that she’ll rise before the Turn’s out, and she might choose a different dragon next time,” Fiona chided him.

“Was it the dragon or the rider?” T’mar asked, giving her a knowing look. “Or will you arrange it that there’s another comatose bronze rider to suit your whim?”

“I might at that,” Fiona answered calmly, her anger tempered by a warning glance from the healer. “Although, seeing as I’ve gotten rather good at catching you when you fall, I might just stick with Zirenth.”

With a sour look, T’mar subsided. Birentir finished his inspection and rebandaged the bronze rider’s leg in silence.

“I’m sorry, I’m not much of a patient,” T’mar told the healer grumpily as he left.

“A head wound is debilitating and can leave a person feeling out of sorts, my lord,” Birentir said. He glanced at Fiona, adding, “The Weyrwoman assures me that your normal behavior is much more agreeable.”

T’mar smiled at that.

“And how soon can we expect normal behavior?” Fiona asked quietly as she and Birentir slipped by Zirenth onto the queens’ ledge and into the Weyr Bowl proper.

“If he doesn’t improve in a sevenday, I’ll ask you to bring the Masterhealer here,” Birentir said. Fiona bit her lip anxiously until he added, “I haven’t seen too many cases but, if my memory serves, he’s progressing pretty much on schedule.” He paused. “But stress always delays recovery and he’s not sleeping as much as I’d like.”

“We’ve Threadfall here in four days and not even a full flight to fly against it,” Fiona said. She turned her head back to T’mar’s weyr. “It’s a wonder he sleeps at all.” She frowned as she added, “And the meeting today won’t help, either.”

“He’s not to be moved or move himself beyond trips to the necessary and back,” Birentir warned.

“Which is why we’re bringing the Weyrleaders here.”

The healer nodded unhappily. He had reluctantly consented to Fiona’s suggestion only when she’d included the Masterhealer among the attendees. She was glad that he’d agreed: The man had visibly mellowed in the past two days, but he still had trouble thinking of her as anything else than a tall lass of thirteen Turns with her father’s lordly airs.

“Telgar was the logical choice anyway,” Fiona continued, more to herself than Birentir. “We’re in the middle time zone, which makes it convenient to everyone.”

“Including the Istan Weyrleader,” Birentir remarked drolly.

“Including the Istan Weyrleader,” Fiona agreed, her eyes dancing.

L
orana had surprised everyone two days before when, just after their return from the Healer Hall, she announced that High Reaches’ queen, Lyrinth, was rising. No sooner had she made her announcement, than she’d added that Ista’s Bidenth was also rising.

“I’d better go, they’ll need help at Ista; they’ve too few bronzes,” M’tal had said immediately on hearing the news, calling silently to Gaminth, who darted in to land beside him in the Weyr Bowl.

“Come back when you can, we’ve more to discuss,” Fiona had told him. M’tal had waved an acknowledgment before clambering up his bronze and departing
between
.

What Fiona hadn’t realized with her blithe dismissal was that the ex-Weyrleader would not be able to return until this day and then only as Weyrleader of Ista.

“I thought he loved Salina!” Kindan had exclaimed angrily when Lorana told them that M’tal’s Gaminth had flown Istan Dalia’s Bidenth, making him the Weyrleader of the southernmost Weyr. Salina had been M’tal’s mate for Turns; her queen was the first to die of the sickness.

“He does,” Lorana assured him with a puzzled look at his outburst.

“‘How big is your heart,’” Fiona breathed to herself. She realized that M’tal, in giving her advice, may also have been advising himself.

Lorana had insisted on going to Benden on Zirenth to ferry Salina to Ista. Kindan had gone with her.

When they returned, they had several carefully wrapped parcels and Kindan wore the expression of someone keeping an important secret.

Knowing Kindan, Fiona had asked Lorana about the contents of the parcels.

“They’re ancient artefacts,” Lorana had told her simply. “We used them to make the cure for the sickness.”

“And you want to use them here?” Fiona asked, her eyes going wide. “Is there more work to do?”

Lorana shook her head. “Not with these, at least,” she’d replied. “Emorra’s last request was that we honor her mother’s promise and return them to the sea at Tillek.” She hefted a smaller parcel, adding, “The instructions are here.”

“Shouldn’t we keep them? Just in case we need them again?”

Lorana shook her head. “I don’t think we’d know what to do with them. Our training was very specific, directed toward this one problem.”

“Can I come with you? Do you need any help?”

Lorana shook her head again, smiling sadly. “I don’t think we’ll need any help, but you’re welcome to come with us.”

She glanced quickly at Kindan, who was hunched inward on himself. “We could use the company.”

And so it was arranged.

They left midday the next day, after Fiona had assured herself that T’mar had settled in for the day and that Shaneese and Terin, between them, had all the Weyr matters well in hand.

Because High Reaches was to the west, the sun rose four hours later than it did at Telgar, allowing them to make a leisurely noon departure and arrive at first light. With Talenth leading and Fiona carrying all the precious artefacts, and with Lorana and Kindan on Zirenth, they rose to the watch heights, circled once, and went
between
.

When they emerged from
between
, Fiona could easily see the outline of Tillek Hold in the growing light of the sun. They had no trouble finding their landing—Zirenth landed so lightly that it was only when Lorana started to move that Kindan realized they were once again earthbound.

A hoarse bugle greeted them, to be echoed more loudly by the dragons.

Tillesk
, Talenth said to both Fiona and Lorana.

“They’ve got a watch-wher!” Kindan exclaimed, a look of delight blossoming on his face.

“Disaller at your service,” a richly clad man said as they passed through the large gates of Tillek Hold.

“Lord Disaller,” Fiona said, nodding slightly.

Disaller nodded politely back, but his attention was fixed on Lorana. He strode up to her quickly, grasped her free hand, and bowed. He was a great bear of a man, one fully built for the needs of the premier sea hold.

“News of your deeds, and your sacrifice, were heard throughout Pern,” he told her, his eyes full of sympathy. “It is an honor to have you here.”

He glanced at Kindan and pumped his hand firmly. “You, too, harper,” he said. His wagged his great bushy eyebrows at Kindan and his bearded mouth twitched up in a smile. “Perhaps we’ll get a proper song of the events from you, soon?”

“There is no better song than Wind Blossom’s,” Kindan told the holder honestly.

“But he is composing another,” Fiona said, her lips curved and her eyes twinkling. “Aren’t you?”

“I’ve only just started,” Kindan said, giving her an exasperated look.

“Pern is grateful to the both of you,” Disaller said, turning and waving toward his Hold. “And we’d be happy to let you take your ease with us for as long as you desire.”

“Not too long, my Lord,” Kindan said with a shake of his head.

“We’ve a promise to keep and then we must return,” Lorana added, gesturing at her carisak.

Disaller directed them away from the gates. “My watch-wher relayed your message,” he said. “Although I’m not sure I completely understand it.”

“A rope, a bell, a raft, and a beach with low surf is all we need,” Kindan said.

“Ah.” Disaller sounded relieved. “That is what we have. Although I took the liberty of laying in wet-weather clothing as well.”

“Thank you,” Lorana said.

“And some soup for the fog and chill of
between,”
Disaller added as he guided them through a narrow cut in the hills surrounding the hold.

They walked less than a kilometer before they heard the roar of the surf and caught the smell of the sea.

“In good weather, the children come here to swim,” Disaller told them as he indicated a stone outbuilding set well back from the shore.

It was no more than three walls and a roof, with an opening facing on to the sea. Inside there were the supplies Lorana had requested and, on a trestle table, a large container of soup covered with a warming mitt.

Disaller handed them all bowls and poured the warm soup into each, handing them large spoons after he finished.

They ate standing and the soup was quickly gone.

Disaller eyed the sea critically. “Not the best day for the beach.”

“Not the worst, either,” Lorana said, shuddering in memory of her last moments on the
Wind Rider
.

“True,” Disaller said. “I forgot you were aboard the
Wind Rider.”
He glanced at her thoughtfully, then added, “Was she a good ship?”

“Yes, she was,” Lorana said. “And fast.”

Disaller grinned at that, satisfied. “I’ve got Tanner building me another at that Half-Circle Sea Hold, in their deep docking caverns. He’s almost a better builder than a ship’s captain.”

“How will you get it up here?” Lorana asked.

“I might not,” Disaller said with a shrug. “But as long as she’s hauling goods, she’ll turn a profit.”

“She will,” Lorana said. She glanced at him curiously. “What will you name her?”

“I was thinking, if I might—” Disaller broke off. Then, somewhat abashedly, he asked, “Would you mind if I called her
Lorana?”
Quickly he added, “It’s not much of a tribute, I know.”

“I’d be honored,” Lorana said, smiling.

Disaller beamed at her. “Thank you,” he told her. “We’ll take good care of her, you can be certain.”

“You needn’t fear, she’ll take a lot of punishment and she’ll be a good ship, with Tanner building her,” Lorana told him.

“I wouldn’t mind if you treated her gently,” Fiona told the Lord Holder. “Then we’d have at least
one
Lorana who wasn’t overworked.”

Beside him, Kindan muttered a hearty approval.

“We should get to work,” Lorana said, ignoring them. She moved outside of the hut, eyeing the gear Disaller had brought.

“I presume you’re hoping to set the bell up on the raft,” Disaller said as he approached. “Who are you hoping to attract?”

Fiona and Kindan exchanged glances, wondering how Lorana would answer.

“Dolphins,” she told the Lord Holder directly.

Disaller nodded to himself. “Good,” he said. “If you were hoping to attract one of the Deep Ones, I’d say you wouldn’t have a chance.”

“‘Deep Ones’?” Fiona repeated questioningly.

“Surely you’ve heard the stories of the huge dwellers of the deep?” Disaller said, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “They go to depths well beyond the range of our trawlers.”

“Have you ever caught one?”

“Caught one?” Disaller repeated, sounding outraged. He shook his head fiercely. “We’d no more catch one than we’d harm a dolphin.

“They help us; sometimes I think they herd the fish like the dolphins.” He nodded toward Kindan. “Harpers tell us they came on the Great Crossing.”

“Really?” Fiona asked in surprise. She turned to Kindan. “I’d never heard anything about them.”

“Nor had I,” Kindan said. He had a faraway look in his eyes, which Fiona recognized as a desire to dive into Records; a look rare for Kindan.

“My instructions say the dolphins,” Lorana said, gesturing to the raft. “We’re to get their attention and then return their gifts.”

“Gifts?” Disaller asked, eyeing Lorana’s carisak carefully. “Gifts from the sea?”

Lorana nodded.

Disaller’s beard twitched again in a smile. “I checked our Records,” he said with a nod toward Kindan. “I don’t suppose it would surprise anyone to learn that Wind Blossom had visited here.”

“I’m surprised your Records survived,” Kindan said, eyeing the corrosive sea mist critically.

“These did,” Disaller said. “They were carefully preserved, written by Lord Holder Malon himself.” His eyes twinkled. “He seemed to think it important.” He cocked his head to the distant hills. “Something to do with the dragons?”

“Lord Malon was very perceptive,” Kindan said.

“Wind Blossom said we had to return them,” Lorana said, her tone verging on anxious.

“The tools used to save the dragons?” Disaller guessed. “What would the dolphins do with them?”

“I don’t know,” Lorana said. “But Wind Blossom’s daughter made it clear that it was important that they were returned.”

“Very well,” Disaller said, gesturing to Kindan to help him as he took one end of the raft. The two men hauled it to the surf and Disaller, wearing oiled waders, pushed it behind the surf with a stiff pole while Lorana and Fiona held firmly on to the mooring rope.