“I’ll be right next door,” Fiona said to Talenth as she made her way to T’mar’s quarters that night. Lorana and Kindan had both protested her plans, but she had heard the hidden relief in their voices. She kept Shaneese’s and Bekka’s words firmly in her mind and kept her expression neutral, her thoughts calm as she bade them good night and made her way to her queen’s lair.

Talenth gave her a drowsy acknowledgment and went just as quickly back to sleep.

I’ll bet you’ll be happy to fly again, Fiona thought to her queen, only to be met with silence. With a sympathetic grin, Fiona walked out of the dragon’s lair and over to T’mar’s quarters. She greeted Zirenth warmly and crossed the distance to T’mar’s room quickly.

T’mar met her at the entrance. “Weyrwoman—?”

Fiona wrapped her arms around him. “Just hold me,” she said. “Hold me all night.”

Wordlessly, T’mar scooped her up and brought her to his bed. He left her there as he finished readying for sleep, pausing only long enough to pass her one of the nightgowns she’d left in his closet. She slipped into it, carefully folding her day clothes and placing them on a nearby chair neatly, in readiness for any need.

With a nod, he gestured for her to get up as he pulled the blanket aside and motioned for her to get into the bed first, carefully removing the warming stones that had been set at the end of the bed. Fiona scampered in gratefully, her feet finding the warm spot and relishing it even as T’mar crawled in beside her and pulled the blankets over the both of them. Silently, she nuzzled her head up under his and was soon asleep.

She awoke in the middle of the night, her face wet with tears and she realized, in surprise, that they were hers.

“What is it?” T’mar whispered, hugging her more tightly.

“Something’s going to happen,” Fiona said, her chest tight with dread. “Something horrible.”

“We’ll survive,” T’mar said.

“Not all of us.”

The dark mood remained with Fiona over the next several days, even as three more riders returned to full fighting ability, giving Telgar a strength of one hundred and forty-six—nearly five full Wings.

Perhaps, she reasoned, it was because she spent so little time now with Kindan and Lorana, or perhaps it was because Talenth was so lethargic, burdened with the weight of her eggs.

Terin caught up with her as she was finishing her morning rounds of the injured.

“I haven’t seen you in a while!” Fiona called in greeting. The younger girl blushed brightly.

“I’m sorry,” Terin stammered, “it’s just that F’jian …”

“I can understand,” Fiona said. She raised an eyebrow conspiratorially. “Should I have Bekka see you?”