“You mustn’t let her gorge!” a voice called to her urgently. Fiona looked up in surprise. It was Kindan. He grabbed her arm and dragged her out onto the ledge. “Reach out to her, control her!”

Fiona reached—and found her jaws locked on the neck of a felled herdbeast, the hot blood enraging her. She hissed at Kindan and twitched away from him. She would eat this beast whole!

No, a voice called to her. The voice was strangely familiar. Lorana? Don’t let the dragon control you. Control her!

The blood tasted so good, so hot. She could smell the fear of the dead beast, hear the rising panic of the others and she wanted more. She wanted to rend, to tear, to rip—

“No!” Fiona cried out loud. With a grunt, she lashed back at Talenth, who recoiled in surprise, then resisted as Fiona exerted herself. Only the blood!

No! Talenth roared, her thoughts emphasized with a bellow that filled the whole Weyr and echoed on.

Yes, Fiona thought back, tightening her grip on her bond with her dragon. Drop it now. There’s another nearby. Drink the blood. Hot blood! You want it!

With a cry mixed equally with anger and anticipation, Talenth launched herself up high and dove on her next victim. Fiona reveled with her in her flight, in her pounce, and felt the hot, warm blood course into her veins.

Fire, she was fire. She was wind, she was heat. She was queen!

More! A voice cried and Talenth leaped again before Fiona could even wonder if the voice was hers or her dragon’s. Was there any difference?

Again Talenth pounced, again she resisted, again she relented to Fiona’s will.

A rush of feet punctuated the morning air and Fiona had a brief flash of anxious faces gathering around her, their excitement both arousing and threatening.

More! Talenth cried, pouncing on her fourth buck, the largest by far. She tore its throat out with a quick deft movement and drained the dying beast’s blood into her waiting jaws.

Sated, she lifted her head up and cried in delight and challenge, then turned back to her kill only to startle all the waiting bronzes by launching herself in the air.

Fiona gasped as Talenth bounded into the air, her wings clawing, pulling her higher and even higher with each muscle-straining beat, up through the thick cold air of morning and into the thinner warmer air above.

With a cry of pure delight, Talenth dove and rose again, higher, and higher until even the Telgar mountains seemed only tiny dots below.

Yes! Fiona cried in exultation. Higher, higher!

Below them, Talenth could make out the bronzes, dots striving piteously to match her prowess.