Fiona raced across the Weyr Bowl toward the queens’ ledge. Her intent expression was such that weyrfolk and dragonriders alike veered out of her way, rather than delivering polite greetings and congratulations on the multiple mating flights. She acknowledged their kindness with a quick smile and a wave, keeping her pace quick and her course firm.

She was so quick that she was breathless by the time she made it up the ledge, past her quarters, Jeila’s quarters, and finally to the queen’s quarters that had been allocated to the injured bronze rider and his dragon.

Zirenth regarded her warily as she approached, his head flinching away from her, his eyes whirling a slow, steady red.

In T’mar’s quarters, Fiona found Seban, Bekka, Lorana, and Kindan all huddled around the dragonrider’s bed.

“What is it?” Fiona asked, edging her way in to look down at T’mar.

He was sweating and tossing from side to side.

“I don’t know,” Kindan said, shaking his head. “Seban called me when he first noticed and T’mar’s been getting steadily worse.” His blue eyes met Fiona’s, his expression somber. “With a head injury, there’s a great deal of pain, headaches, nausea, and sometimes memory loss.”

“Memory loss?” Fiona said, wondering how much T’mar might forget.

“Lorana and I were looking for similar cases in the Records,” Kindan said. By his tone, Fiona gathered that he hadn’t found any matches and that what he had found was disturbing. “Sometimes a serious knock on the head can cause the loss of months of memories. Most often the memories return slowly over time.”

“Most often?”

“Sometimes they don’t,” Kindan said, confirming her worst fear. “The Records suggest that a person who is in familiar surroundings recovers quicker than those who are in a strange location.” He waved at the quarters here. He grimaced as he added, “Also, the presence of a long-term relationship, a partner of long standing, has been shown to aid recovery.”

“Is this why he’s thrashing about so?”

“No,” Kindan said, shaking his head. “There was no mention of this in the Records.”

“Among those who survived,” Lorana added darkly. She glanced to Kindan, saying, “Tell her the rest.”

Kindan sighed heavily, and beckoned for Fiona to bend her ear close to his mouth, as he whispered, “A person who doesn’t regain consciousness in the first day rarely survives at all.”

“But why is he moving so? He seems upset,” Fiona protested. “And didn’t Seban hear him speak earlier? Isn’t that a good sign?”

Her eyes narrowed as she examined T’mar closely. Pushing the others aside so that she could kneel, she grabbed his hand and leaned over his face, trying to follow the movements of his lips.

“Three times, is that it, T’mar?” Fiona asked. She was certain that his hand had spasmed briefly around hers.