“F’jian sent me,” Terin said, her tone mixed with anger and fear. She gave Fiona an anxious look. “But I’m too young!”

“You’re not much younger than I was when I Impressed Talenth,” Fiona said. “And you’re older than both Xhinna and Taria.”

“But they didn’t Impress a queen.”

“I don’t think age chooses color,” Fiona replied, chuckling.

Terin glanced around nervously, even as baskets of glows were turned over to add their illumination to the dimming light. “There are a lot of girls here!”

“I’m not sure that all of them are hoping for queens,” Fiona said.

“Why not?”

Fiona laughed. “You’d think every girl would wish to ride a gold, but I think, with Xhinna’s example, some have realized that they could actually fight Thread.”

“Queens fight Thread.”

“In the queens’ wing,” Fiona agreed. “When there are enough of them, and at a relatively safe level.”

Terin frowned at her. “I read the Records at Igen—”

“You did?” Fiona asked. “When?”

“When you were off gallivanting around or stuck in exile as watchqueen,” Terin snapped in reply. “And I read enough to know that those queens in the queens’ wing, while not chewing firestone, weren’t exempt from scoring and injury.”

Fiona nodded, surprised that the youngster had taken note—it was not something often mentioned. Fiona suspected that part of that was because the Werywomen traditionally kept the Records—they certainly edited them!—and did not want to make the dangers of the queens’ wing too apparent to any nervous Weyrleader.

“Still,” Fiona said, conceding Terin’s point with a shrug, “it’s not the same as flying in a fighting Wing.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Terin said, swiveling her head to gaze at the ranks of smaller eggs set not so close to Tolarth’s watchful gaze. Fiona could follow her thinking, her indecision as the temptation of flying firestone together with F’jian formed in her mind, and could see the slight shake of her head when Terin decided that she’d prefer to be a queen rider.

“You’ll make a great weyrwoman, Terin,” Fiona told her.

“You act as if the eggs’ve already hatched!”

Fiona shrugged, reached closer, and patted the younger woman on the shoulder. “If not this time, then certainly sometime.”

“It would be perfect if it were now,” Terin said, turning back to Fiona as she continued softly, “but I was really hoping it’d be one of yours.”

“Well, if the egg hatches and the queen comes toward you, don’t tell her!” Fiona teased.