“Oh, Flightleader!” Fiona called as he departed. J’lantir turned back to her expectantly. “As time permits, see the headwoman, she’s proper Telgar garb for the riders.”

J’lantir nodded absently, then brightened. “I shall arrange it at the earliest moment!”

Fiona nodded and waved him back to his duties.

The riders from High Reaches were the next to appear. They arrived just after the former Istan riders departed to join H’nez in drill. The sun was well in the sky and the chill of the morning had vanished.

“I wonder who they’ll send to lead the wing,” Kindan said, craning his neck and sheltering his eyes to spot the lead rider.

Fiona picked out the rider and discovered that her eyes were better than Kindan’s as she said, “He’s threadscored on the cheek. He’s missing an ear, too!”

“C’tov!” Kindan shouted, racing across the Bowl to greet the rider as his dragon landed. Fiona and Lorana followed after him, exchanging looks of surprise.

“Sonia sent her best,” Fiona said to herself as she examined the tall rider clambering down from his perch.

“She honors you,” Lorana agreed.

“Us,” Fiona corrected her firmly, reaching once more to grab Lorana’s hand and give it a quick squeeze. “I’ve got a lot to live up to.”

“You’ll do fine,” Lorana said. Fiona’s lips twitched but she made no response.

Kindan led C’tov over to them and the bronze rider bowed to Fiona. “Weyrwoman, I present you with thirty-seven of High Reaches’ best.”

“We’re honored, wingleader,” Fiona said. “You are welcome here.”

“May I pay my respects to the Weyrleader?” C’tov asked, looking beyond her to the queen’s weyr where Zirenth peered out.

“I think it would be best to wait until evening,” Fiona told him. “J’lantir and his Flight from Ista have just gone off to join flightleader H’nez in drill.”

C’tov nodded in understanding. “Then, with your leave, Weyrwoman, as soon as we’ve stowed our belongings, we’ll join them.”

“Headwoman Shaneese was expecting you,” Fiona told him, waving toward a group approaching from the lower caverns. “They’ll take your gear and stow it in your quarters.”

“Thank you,” C’tov replied, his eyes twinkling as he smiled at her. Fiona realized that disregarding the scorched side of his face was easy given the animation the bronze rider brought to his expressions, particularly his piercing blue eyes.

“My pleasure.”

“I should have been there!” T’mar said when Fiona recounted the events to him later. He shifted nervously in his bed.

“You’re not leaving that bed until Birentir says,” Fiona told him, pressing a hand against his chest forcefully. “Even if I have to sit on you.”

“Or Birentir does,” Lorana added in agreement. “I can’t imagine he’d want to have a Weyrleader be the first patient he lost.”