“Because my blue is the only dragon who can fly right now,” Xhinna said. “And because it’s wise for youngsters to listen to their elders so that they might, one day, become elders themselves.”
Jepara’s eyes flashed in rebellion for a moment, but Xhinna met them unflinchingly. A moment later, Jepara said, “Sarurth’s hungry—we need to get back.”
“We’ll get back when we’ve got this straight between us,” Xhinna said, not moving.
“My queen is hungry, blue rider. Will you let her starve?”
“No,” Xhinna said. “Will you?”
Jepara’s jaw dropped in amazement.
Xhinna had heard only good things about Pellar and Halla from K’dan and C’tov so she couldn’t quite understand why their daughter would be such a wherry-faced brat. But with that thought came the answer: It was because her parents had such a reputation. She could do no wrong because they could do no wrong. Xhinna guessed that, devoted though they might be, Pellar and Halla had so many duties running Fire Hold—where they mined the precious firestone—that they’d lost track of this child, assuming that she could easily adapt to their unconventional ways.
“Impressing a queen is a great honor,” Xhinna said softly. “Impressing any dragon is equally a great honor—” She turned wistfully toward Tazith, assuring him that she would not have any other than him no matter what. “—but with honor comes responsibility.”
She saw Jepara flinch.
“So, gold rider of a hungry queen,” she continued, “what are you going to do? Are you going to learn manners and have your hatchling fed, or are you going to put on airs?”
“I’m sorry,” Jepara said, lowering her eyes to the ground. “It’s just that—”
“I know.”
“How can you know?” Jepara shrieked. “You’ve been in the Weyr your whole life! You know everything about dragons, and you act like you ride a queen yourself.”
Xhinna turned back to face her and shook her head. “I was an orphan. When I came to Fort Weyr, the headwoman took a disliking to me because I like girls more than boys. I had to keep quiet, keep out of sight, got the worst jobs, and had no one to—” She found the word hard to say, even now. “—no one to love me, even when I felt like I would die.”
Jepara’s eyes widened.
“And then I tried to Impress the queen, only she went to Fiona, so I hated her, too,” Xhinna said. Her lips turned upward slightly as she added, “Until I got to know her and realized that she accepts me for what I do.” Xhinna shook her head and corrected herself: “No, she loves me because she sees something more in me than I can.”
“She loves you?”
“Like a sister,” Xhinna said. She smiled. “You haven’t seen enough of our Weyrwoman; she uses friends like blankets and she gives off love like others give off heat.” She paused for a moment, then added, “When she left for Igen Weyr, I thought she was dead. And when she returned, I swore that I’d never lose her again. And now she’s back in Telgar; I’ve lost her, and so have her children.”
Her jaw set in grim determination as she swore, “But as long as they have me, Tiona and Kimar will have parents. And if something happens to me, then Taria will care for them. Because that’s what we do, as weyrfolk, and particularly as dragonriders—we care for each other. We’re all we’ve got.”
She looked at Jepara and smiled. “Now that you’re one of us, you’re part of that, too,” she said softly. Jepara looked up at her with a hint of wistfulness.
“And we take care of each other,” Xhinna went on. “Which means we accept praise rather than crow over our success, we give aid when needed, we work to keep all our spirits up.”
She paused to let her words sink in, before finishing: “One day, gold rider, you may be a Weyrwoman in your own right, and the whole Weyr will look to you.”
“They look to you now,” Jepara said. “We all look to you.”
Xhinna nodded, unable to avoid that truth. “When Fiona comes back, she’ll be the Weyrwoman, and I’ll be happier.”
There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Jepara spoke. “We’d better get back to R’ney.” Her tone was much lighter than before. “He’ll think we’re slacking or something.”
When they returned to camp, the wherries were hastily—and clumsily—butchered and fed to the twenty ravenous dragonets. In the end, the four wherries were just enough to fill them.
“We’re going to need more food,” Jepara declared as she tried to rub wherry ichor onto a nearby leaf.
“And something to clean with,” Taria agreed. She beckoned for Xhinna to come close to her and whispered, “We need help.”
“We’ll have to make do with what we have,” Xhinna said.
“Until when?”
“At least until we can stockpile enough provisions that Tazith can get a good night’s rest,” Xhinna said. Taria raised an eyebrow, but Xhinna merely shook her head, saying, “Later.”
They spent the rest of the day taking stock and organizing their “Sky Weyr.” Xhinna still hated the name, preferring to call it a camp and having a greater deal of sympathy for Fiona’s repugnance at naming the old camp “Eastern Weyr.” They managed to find enough fruit to satisfy the twins so they would settle down for an afternoon nap, while Jepara took charge of a scouting party to search the surrounding forest.
In three days, Xhinna, R’ney, Jepara, C’nian, and Hannah had developed themselves into an expert hunting group, bringing home up to six wherries each outing. Taria, not comfortable straying far from Coranth, had volunteered to stay at the camp and watch the twins, but she’d still managed to locate several stands of nutfruit trees, as well as several with the sorts of edible leaves that they’d enjoyed back in Eastern Weyr.
“Tonight, I think,” Xhinna said to Taria as the sun set and they started their climb up into the canopy from the fireplace over which they’d roasted their evening meal. F’denol took watch on the lowest branch. After their first cookfire, they’d heard Mrreows and other marauders in the night, and Xhinna wanted to be certain that they weren’t surprised by some tree-climbing carnivore.
“Now?” Taria asked. Coranth was healing; they’d found the plants they needed to make a good salve and managed to boil some cloth to replace her blanket-bandages, but the green was still weeks away from complete recovery. If anything happened to Tazith, the camp would not long survive.
“We need help,” Xhinna said.
Taria nodded reluctantly and moved closer to Xhinna, hugging her tightly. “You come back.”
“I will.”
“And not three Turns older,” Taria growled as she released her.
“Mind the twins,” Xhinna said.
“Always.”
Tazith circled the camp once in the growing dark.
Do you know where to go? Xhinna asked, sending her dragon the final image.
Yes, Tazith replied and, with Xhinna’s assent, took them between.
The cold nothingness that was between lasted longer than the usual mere three coughs. They broke out into daylight, circling the old Eastern Weyr. Tazith started a steep descent toward where they’d last seen K’dan and the others.
Xhinna let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding when she saw K’dan and Bekka waving up at her.
“Hurry,” she called, “we’ve got to get out of here!”
“Qinth is too hurt,” Bekka said.