“But don’t stop thinking,” Fiona told him encouragingly. “There may be something we haven’t yet considered that could help.”

“I’m not sure it would be a good idea to send the weyrlings away,” T’mar said. “It was far too great a risk the last time.”

“We needed them,” Fiona said. “If we hadn’t done it, imagine where we’d be now.”

“And it was K’lior’s idea,” F’jian said, partly in the Weyrwoman’s defense.

“It was K’lior’s suggestion that the least injured go back in time,” T’mar replied quellingly. He glanced toward Fiona, adding, “Someone decided to lead the weyrlings and the most injured back in time as well.”

“Which only emphasizes the need of them,” Fiona responded tartly. “Besides, Weyrleader, we know that it wasn’t my idea, so you can stop with the accusing glares!”

T’mar pursed his lips sourly and sat back in his chair, flipping open a hand in a gesture of defeat.

“Anyway,” C’tov went on, returning to the original subject, “with all the eggs on the sands at all the Weyrs we’ve only got—what?—another three Wings?”

“Twenty-two eggs, one queen in each of the five clutches,” Kindan said, glancing meaningfully toward first T’mar and then Fiona. “One hundred and five fighting dragons and five queens.”

“Well, five queens would be a help,” F’jian said. Fiona caught his eyes and the bronze rider flushed—it was an open secret that he was hoping Terin would Impress the queen from Tolarth’s clutch.

“In three Turns, when they rise,” H’nez remarked sourly.

“But with the Hatching, our queens will soon rise again,” Fiona said. The others looked at her. “The Records show that the queens usually rise twice a Turn, sometimes as many as three.”

“All of which might”—H’nez began and corrected himself when he caught Fiona’s arch look—“will help us in the Turns to come but …” He shrugged.

“It’s not wise to count your eggs before they hatch,” T’mar told F’jian in a reproving tone whose sting was softened by his grin.

The younger bronze rider accepted the rebuke with an easy shrug.

T’mar sat forward decisively, glancing toward Fiona. “The Hatchings will be soon?”

“Probably tomorrow,” Fiona said. She glanced toward Kindan for confirmation as she added, “The Records are very firm that Hatching occurs five weeks after clutching.”

“It’s very consistent,” Kindan agreed.

“I remember, from the Teaching Ballads,” C’tov said, frowning as he recited:

“Count three months and more,
And five heated weeks,
A day of glory and
In a month, who seeks?”

He glanced toward Kindan, asking, “I’ve always wondered about the last two lines—what do they mean?”