“I think I see why she’d make such an offer,” Dalia said approvingly.

M’tal glanced toward the three weyrwomen’s quarters near the entrance to the Hatching Grounds and said, “How is T’mar? May I see him?”

“He’s querulous, tetchy, irritable, and snappish,” Fiona replied. “But our healer, Birentir—”

“Birentir?” Dalia interrupted. “From Ista?”

Fiona agreed, explaining how she’d borrowed Tintoval from Fort Weyr to examine T’mar and had arranged with Masterhealer Betrony to bring his three journeymen along for observation—and trial.

“Birentir was a very sad and bitter man,” Dalia said when Fiona had finished. “I’m glad that he’s found peace.”

“I’ve been told that I surround myself with difficult people,” Fiona said, careful to keep her gaze from straying in H’nez’s direction.

“The traders call you the desert flower,” M’tal told her with a smile. He nodded toward T’mar’s quarters. “Would it be possible to pay respects to the Weyrleader?”

Fiona frowned, not wanting to overwhelm T’mar with a crowd of visitors. Before she said anything, Dalia spoke up, saying, “I’d like to visit with Birentir, for myself.”

“I’d be happy to escort you,” H’nez said, offering up a hand while glancing at Fiona for agreement.

“We’ll have to keep the visit brief,” Fiona said warningly, nodding permission to H’nez, who directed Dalia on a new course toward the healer’s quarters.

T’mar was awake, lying stretched out on his bed when they came in.

“I’m checking Lorana’s coordinates,” T’mar told them with a strange expression on his face. “She’s on the way here with Verilan, Master Zist, and Betrony.” He made a wry face as he added, “Apparently there was a … discussion with the blue rider sent from Fort Weyr over who would have the honor of bearing the Masters.”

“I’ll bet that was short,” M’tal said.

“The blue bears Bemin and Kelsa,” T’mar said in agreement. He glanced toward M’tal. “Congratulations on your flight, Weyrleader.”

M’tal nodded, saying, “It wasn’t quite what I’d intended.”

“Often things don’t turn out the way we intended,” T’mar said, glancing toward Fiona.

“See,” Fiona said, throwing up a hand in mock disgust, “just as I said, he’s tetchy and irritable.”

The others chuckled.

“Seriously,” T’mar continued, glancing toward Fiona who forced herself not to stick out her tongue in pique, “the Weyrwoman and I have talked, and I’ve talked with Kindan and Lorana about today’s meeting.”

“And now you’ll rest and leave it in our hands,” Fiona told him pointedly.

“I will,” T’mar said. “But as I’ve a chance to stretch the ear of the Istan Weyrleader, I thought I’d mention our worries about the number of fighting dragons once more.”