The gold and bronze climbed up quickly in the afternoon air, circled the Star Stones once, and were gone, between to Fort Hold.

Fiona insisted upon circling Fort Hold’s Great Hall before they glided down for a landing in the field outside the Healer Hall.

“So, you’re back?” Betrony said as he approached from the Healer Hall. “And you’ve brought trouble?”

“We’ll need Birentir’s gear, sir,” Fiona said.

“Birentir, eh?” Betrony said, his eyebrows arching. “Good choice, good choice.” He glanced inquiringly toward Seban and Bekka.

Fiona got the hint and gestured toward them. “Masterhealer, may I present, with my compliments, Seban, formerly rider of blue Serth, and his daughter, Bekka.” To Bekka and Seban she said, “This is Masterhealer Betrony.”

“Kindan!” A loud voice boomed from the distance. “Report!”

“He’s supposed to use a drum,” Kindan growled affectionately. He turned to Lorana. “I’m sure he’d like to meet you, too.”

“And Kindan wants the protection,” Fiona added with a giggle. She waved Lorana off with Kindan. “I’ll catch up when we’re done here.”

Kindan waved a hand behind his back in acknowledgment.

“Don’t be too long and we’ll drill on recognition points!” Fiona shouted after them. She turned back to Betrony just as Lindorm and Cerra strode by with Seban and Bekka in tow.

“We’ll get them settled in, Master,” Cerra said in passing.

Betrony waved them on, adding, “I’ll have a longer meeting with you later.”

“Don’t worry,” Lindorm told Bekka as she turned wide, worried eyes toward the Masterhealer, “he’s not half as fearsome as the Masterharper.”

“You’ll be meeting him, too, tonight at dinner,” Betrony added with a smile.

“Don’t worry, Bekka,” Fiona told the young girl, “I survived.”

“You spent most of your time hiding up at the Hold, as I recall,” Betrony said reminiscently.

“Not true,” Fiona said. “Half the time I was down here, hiding from Father.”

“Or hunting tunnel snakes.”

“That, too,” Fiona agreed. She glanced toward the retreating forms of Seban and Bekka as they entered the hall. “They’re really very good.”

“We’ll see,” Betrony said judiciously. “Of course,” he cocked his head at her, “if they are, you know I’ll be wanting more.”

Fiona chuckled. She turned toward the Hold and said to the Master, “If you’ll forgive me, I think I might have time to pay my respects.”

“Your father’s up with the Masterharper,” Betrony said, gesturing in the other direction.

“Then I’m certain to have enough time to pay my respects!” Fiona said, marching off toward the distant Fort Hold.

The guards were overjoyed to greet her and waved her in through the great doors; once inside, Fiona turned to her left, heading toward the kitchen.

“There’s no use coming here—there’ll be no food until this evening, as you should well know!” a voice called out peremptorily as Fiona approached.

“Perhaps a cup of klah?” Fiona asked in her most waifish, pleading voice.

“Fiona?” the voice called.