“Apparently they are not quite like fire-lizards or dragons,” M’hall told him.
“More independent,” Wind Blossom agreed. “Able to take care of themselves, if they must.”
“Fortunately, Thread usually freezes at night so their skills are rarely needed,” M’hall added. Wind Blossom nodded approvingly.
“I see,” Malon said. “So I should probably keep this news to myself and not alarm the Hold.”
“That has been our consensus so far, yes,” Wind Blossom agreed.
M’hall raised an eyebrow questioningly, but Wind Blossom gave him a nearly imperceptible shake of her head and he changed the topic.
“I’m glad we could clear that up,” he said. Then he shivered theatrically. “Did you say something about a stew?”
Malon was only too happy to follow the change of topic and lead them into his Hold.
Over the next several days the weather cleared and the sun came out-and then for the rest of the week the weather turned foul. Either way, it did not alter Wind Blossom’s routine. She was up with first light and out at her shelter.
She spent her evenings with Malon and the other fishermen, happily relating what little she knew of marine biology and gladly hearing what they had been taught through the cruel lessons of the sea. The oldsters were content to gather around her; many remembered her from the Fever Year, and some even from the Crossing.
Malon soon guessed Wind Blossom’s reason for coming to Tillek Hold.
“I don’t think they’ll come,” he told her after she returned to the Hold on the third evening. He sounded wistful. “I’ve seen them in the warmer waters, but I think it’s too cold up here for them.”
Wind Blossom smiled at him. “Could you give me a supply of fish? Or fish leavings?”
Malon shook his head admiringly. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“I have had years to learn patience,” she replied.
“You would do better in a boat, you know,” Malon said after a moment’s reflection.
“I am not a sailor,” Wind Blossom confessed.
“I could get someone to take you,” he offered.
Wind Blossom shook her head. “Thank you, but that would be… unwise.”
“I see you have a secret you are reluctant to share,” Malon observed.
Wind Blossom shook her head. “I have a secret I am sworn to keep,” she corrected.
Malon nodded slowly, taking no offense. “Well, do please let me know if you think of anything else I can do to help.”
“And the fish?” Wind Blossom reminded him.
“Of course.”
The eerie light of glows in one of the classrooms caught Emorra’s attention as she made her way to the kitchen late one night. She paused outside the room. She heard voices. Cautiously she opened the door and peered inside.
Inside, Tieran was standing at the blackboard, which was covered in various block diagrams and chemical formulas. She recognized the one he was working on as a decision tree. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“What are you doing?” he responded.
She raised the tray she was carrying. “I’m returning my dishes.”
“I’m working late,” he told her.
She walked into the room and put her tray down on one of the student desks. She came up to the blackboard and examined Tieran’s work.
“Is this a diagnostic flowchart?” she asked.
Tieran nodded.
“For what purpose?”
“I’m trying to figure out what could have made the fire-lizards sick,” he told her.
She looked at his chart. “I see you’ve got bacterial and viral, but why the Terran and Pernese? And why not dietary?”
“If it’s a disease caused by poor nutrition, then it’s self-limiting, isn’t it?” Tieran said.
“It is if the missing nutrient can be found,” she agreed. “Like vitamin C to prevent scurvy.” She narrowed her eyes as she followed the flowchart to the next branch. “What’s this about a microscope?”
“If it’s bacterial, you could see the bacteria with a microscope,” Tieran explained. “If you can’t, then it’s viral.”
“But that’s ignoring the fact that secondary infections could be either bacterial or viral,” Emorra observed.
“I’m not trying to make this harder,” Tieran protested, “I’m trying to make it easier.”
Emorra’s lips quirked upward. “If it was easy,” she began, and Tieran joined her in the finish, “then anyone could do it.”
They exchanged grins. Then Emorra shook her head. “I don’t know why you’re bothering,” she told him. “I mean it’s obvious that Mother’s given up.”
Tieran cocked his head at her.
“She’s on a vacation, isn’t she?” Emorra asked.
“Is she?” Tieran asked.
Emorra dismissed the issue with a shake of her head. She looked back at the flowchart, intending to leave Tieran to his own devices, when a sudden thought struck her.
“You know,” she said musingly, “you’re going about this all wrong.”
“I’ll take any help I can get,” Tieran responded feelingly.
“The question isn’t what initial vector started the illness,” she said slowly, testing out the idea as she said it, “but what was the cause of death.”
“It seemed to be some sort of extreme upper respiratory infection or complications therefrom,” Tieran said.
Emorra nodded in agreement. “So, what would be required to survive a severe upper respiratory infection?”
“Lots of antibiotics,” Tieran replied instantly.
“That’s a short-term solution,” Emorra observed.
“Well…” Tieran paused, pursing his lips in thought. “The long-term solution is the antibodies built by the immune system.” He frowned. “But, obviously, the immune system didn’t recognize the infection quickly enough and was overwhelmed.”
“So we need to keep the immune system from being overwhelmed,” Emorra said.
“How?” Tieran asked miserably.
“The sea giveth, and the sea taketh away,” Wind Blossom thought wryly. She bundled up her collection from the shore, checking each item carefully as she placed it in her carisak.
In the distance, out on the ocean, she could just make out the group of fins heading away from her. In her mind, she ticked off each of the missing items from her inventory. Some things “lost” in the Crossing were now returned.
Her gait as she negotiated her way back to the Hold was steady, purposeful.
When M’hall came to collect her, he insisted upon helping her with her carisak. After she was firmly mounted on Brianth’s neck, he handed the carisak to her before hoisting himself up.
“Your sak is heavier, I noticed,” he commented as he found his seat. “The Eridani like doing things in threes, don’t they?”
Wind Blossom chuckled. “Yes, they do.”
“I believe that Admiral Benden would have praised their dedication to backup systems and redundancy.”
“If he had known,” Wind Blossom told him, “I’m sure he would have agreed.”
At M’hall’s command, Brianth leapt lightly into the air and, with strong beats, soared high up into the sky before going between.
Bursting once more into existence over the College, M’hall had Brianth commence a lazy spiral toward the landing site.
“So, I take it your vacation was fruitful?” he inquired pleasantly.
“I have found some answers to some of my questions,” Wind Blossom agreed. “I must go back there sometime.”
M’hall raised his eyebrows in surprise. “To get more buried treasure?”
“No,” Wind Blossom responded, shaking her head. “To return it.”
They were met by Emorra and Tieran.