As she clambered into her place on Talenth’s back, she told her, When we return, we’ll go to the Star Stones. I don’t want to cause any accidents.

As they returned between and Talenth answered the watch dragon’s challenge, Fiona felt relief in the wisdom of her decision: The Weyr was a rainbow of colors as dragons hastily landed, loaded firestone, and leaped airborne once more, re-forming into their fighting Wings.

Fiona had Talenth land near the Hatching Grounds, understanding the queen’s dilemma, torn between the need to guard her eggs and the excitement of the moment.

“Go on, you’ve done your part,” Fiona said, as Talenth’s eyes whirled with a reddish tinge of worry. “Although I’m sure that Tolarth wouldn’t let anything happen to your eggs while we were gone.”

From within the Hatching Grounds came Tolarth’s strident assurance. Fiona laughed and patted her queen once more before urging, “Go on, you can count your eggs for yourself, just to be certain!”

Talenth scrambled inside, a small echo of surprise winding back to Fiona as the queen thought: How did she know that she was counting her eggs?

I’m your rider, I know everything! she called as she turned and raced back to the work parties hastily loading the fighting dragons.

“I’m Weyrleader, how come I didn’t know about this?” T’mar asked in an inverted echo of Fiona’s earlier words when she caught up to him.

“Because there wasn’t time,” Fiona said. He glared at her. “I had just enough time to realize that I would have to time it myself, not enough time to explain.”

“Well,” T’mar said, sounded slightly less mulish, “Lorana explained it to me while you were gone.”

“So you asked merely to vent at me?” Fiona said, eyebrows arching menacingly.

“I don’t see how we’ll get there in time,” T’mar continued, ignoring her. “We’ve taken the better part of an hour.”

“Lorana will give you the coordinates,” Fiona said.

“But they’ve been fighting unaided for an hour.”

“No,” Fiona told him, “they haven’t.”

“They haven’t?” T’mar said. “Then who’s been helping them? And why are we going?”

“You’ve been helping them and that’s why you’re going,” Fiona said, smiling as she took in his confusion and dawning comprehension. “You’re going to time it, too.”

“It’s the only way,” Lorana assured him from where she stood beside the work parties. She flinched, as though struck by a burning brand—or as though struck by a searing strand of Thread—and hissed in pain before adding, with a look of concern, “Fly carefully.”

T’mar gave her a long, hard look and then nodded slowly.

“I’ll bear that in mind,” he said, moving toward Zirenth. He turned back to Lorana. “How bad is it?”