And the clutch is small, Talenth said. Are the eggs smaller, too?

Don’t worry, love, they’ll be fine, Fiona told her. She continued to comfort her queen for several minutes, only leaving when Talenth was calm enough to lay her head down on the warm sands for a well-deserved rest.

Let me know if you need anything, Fiona said, as she made her way from the Hatching Ground once more into the Weyr Bowl. Talenth made no response; the sound of her slow, steady breathing carried clearly to the entrance: She was already asleep.

“She’s asleep,” Fiona said as T’mar joined her. She looked up worriedly. “Did we do wrong, to have that mating flight the way we did?”

T’mar pursed his lips thoughtfully. Finally, he shook his head. “A queen rises when she’s ready,” he said. He gave her a wry look as he added, “Do you think you really managed to align her passions to yours rather than the other way around?”

The notion startled Fiona and T’mar chuckled at her expression. “A queen often mates for the good of the Weyr, often against her rider’s desires or interests,” he said. “In the course of your life, there’s no guarantee that you might not find yourself with several partners.”

“Several more partners,” Fiona corrected with a smile.

“Riders are often much like their dragons,” T’mar allowed noncommittally, although his eyes gleamed humorously.

“You still haven’t answered the question.”

T’mar shook his head. “I’ve given you all the answer I have, Weyrwoman.”

“But if—”

T’mar cleared his throat and grabbed her by the arm, forcing her closer to him. “What I’m more worried about,” he told her in a voice pitched for her ears alone, “is whether the low numbers and early clutch are related to the cure to the dragon sickness.”

Fiona paled as she absorbed his meaning.

“We won’t know until the others clutch,” T’mar said, gesturing for her to start moving once more. “As I said, and as you know, it’s not uncommon for a queen’s first clutch to be smaller than her norm.”

“And she was ill not long before.”

T’mar acknowledged that with a nod. “That would have an impact, certainly.”

“So what do we do?”

“Wait,” T’mar replied. “If the other clutches are normal, then we’ve probably no cause for alarm.”