“We can’t fight without firestone,” F’jian replied, wearily wiping a hand across his face. They had been arguing for the better part of two hours, ever since their evening meal just after another grueling day of drilling. C’tov sat silently between them, clearly not happy at the issue set before them.

“So the only choice is to time it,” T’mar repeated, glancing first at his oldest and then at his youngest wingleader. “And because of that, I’m elected.”

“Trying to emulate B’nik?” Fiona asked sourly from where she sat in solitude at the end of the long table. Her sense of doom had only increased with the news of B’nik’s impending loss. She kept the worry to herself, lying to both Kindan and Lorana, pleading duty or distraction when she couldn’t otherwise avoid them. She sensed that Lorana had an inkling of her fears, but Fiona was desperate to keep any stress from the older woman and her growing baby.

T’mar gave her a sour look. “Not particularly,” he said. “But we have to face our needs.”

“And the Weyr needs its Weyrleader,” Fiona shot back. She regretted her words even before she caught the look of disappointment in T’mar’s eyes. She knew that he was doing his best, just as they all were. It just wasn’t enough.

T’mar’s lips twitched as he suppressed his retort and Fiona, realizing the effort he was making, gave him an apologetic shrug.

“We’re all under stress,” T’mar said, cutting his gaze to the other wingleaders, a gesture that caused Fiona’s spirits to sink even further at the implied rebuke. “But as you know, Weyrwoman, I and those who share your fatigue seem to be less sensitive to the extra strain of timing it.” Fiona grimaced at his words. “So it would seem that we are the best choice for the job.”

“So you’re going to provide our reserves and bring firestone?” H’nez asked again, his incredulity unalloyed.

“No,” Fiona replied, before T’mar could draw breath. “They’re going to ferry firestone and provide relief only if needed.” She nodded toward T’mar. “So you’ll only time it if absolutely necessary?”

“That wasn’t my plan,” T’mar admitted, choosing his words carefully. “But I think there’s sense in that.”

“Let me get this clear,” F’jian said. “You’ll fly the Fall with firestone and then, only if we need it, you and your Wing will time it—after the Fall—to give us additional strength.”

“Makes sense,” H’nez muttered, reluctantly approving. Then he frowned. “But won’t it be a bit unnerving to supply yourself with firestone?”

“I suppose that’s possible,” T’mar said. He spread his hands open above the table. “But it’s the best plan we’ve got.”

“So it’s agreed,” Fiona declared, glancing down the table challengingly.