The thought of two queen eggs hardening on the Hatching Sands brought another thought—would Lorana stand again? Briefly Fiona entertained the notion of Lorana dragon-borne, smiling and waving as she soared on a beautiful gold. Or would it hurt too much?

Fiona pushed the question from her mind, uncertain of how much of her thoughts were shared with Lorana.

“Lady Fiona!” a woman’s voice came to her from across the Bowl, toward the Dining Cavern. Fiona turned in time to see an older woman bearing down on her. She was familiar, Fiona realized, her mind straining to match the features and then—

“Merika!” Fiona called in response. “How are you? I’m sorry that I’ve been monopolizing Bekka but she’s—”

“Ah, you’ve been doing me a favor,” Merika said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Her expression changed as she added feelingly, “Not to mention the good it’s done her father.”

“But I’m sure that you miss her.”

“I do,” Merika said with a savage nod. “I miss her every day and I send a special thought her way.” She straightened. “But she’s doing good, as you say, and good for her father.” Her eyes danced as she added, “And for all that I love her, and she’s the youngest of my four, she’s worse than a nest of tunnel snakes some days.”

“Which is probably why she’s so dear to my heart,” Fiona said. “I made a fair number of marks hunting tunnel snakes.”

“I thought you two were well-matched,” Merika said in a tone which indicated that that had been a part of her willingness to let her youngest go to Telgar. “And I’d be doing both of you a disservice if I didn’t admit that I was much the same at the same age.” She smiled as she added, “After all, it takes a fair bit of flirting to catch the eyes of a blue rider, duty or no!”

“Well, I know for certain that Seban loves his daughter,” Fiona said, not certain how to deal with the question of blue riders and their duty.

Merika nodded wisely. “‘Love knows love,’” she recited. “Or perhaps it should be: love loves love.”

The phrase echoed thrillingly down Fiona’s spine. “Yes, that about sums it up between them.”

Merika brought a finger to her nose as though sharing a secret. “And not just them, for all the word’s been.”

Fiona was startled to think that her exploits were the talk of the Weyr and then, on reflection, somewhat pleased. “It seems that I’m in good company,” she teased the older woman.

Merika chuckled. “It’s not for nothing that they made up that saying about love knowing love.”

“I suppose not.”

“You’ll be looking for the Weyrleader or the Weyrwoman?” Merika said, glancing toward the senior queen’s weyr.