“Well, it wouldn’t do for Tolarth’s first Hatching to be marred by confusion and disarray.”

“Not to mention that I probably wouldn’t allow anyone to sleep on the sands again,” Fiona said.

“Not to mention that!”

Fiona waved Terin away. “Go! You’re supposed to be there!” She spotted T’mar as he broached the Hatching Grounds’ entrance and waved to him.

Who’s with you? Fiona asked Lorana as she spied Kindan and a knot of weyrlings entering, taking positions so quickly that Fiona was certain that Kindan had given them all assigned positions and duties. She waved at Xhinna as she climbed up to the group of youngsters in the stands, even as she plotted a route back to the weyr and Lorana; she wouldn’t leave her on her own.

Bekka is here, Lorana replied. Though, even without you and this, I’ve got every dragon in the Weyr ready to answer my slightest call.

And well they should! Fiona said. It was clear from Lorana’s response that she was not feeling left out of the proceedings and any concerns about Bekka she thrust from her mind, recalling that that youngster had grown up attending birthings with her midwife mother.

Fiona’s previous declaration that Bekka should stand on the Hatching Grounds had been charred by the girl herself. “As if I don’t have enough to do already!” Bekka had declared.

As for Lorana, the question of her returning to the Hatching Grounds as a Candidate had evaporated with the news of her pregnancy.

Someone stepped close to her and Fiona reached her hand out without turning, knowing that T’mar’s rough fingers would twine over hers. She could see Kindan in the distance, noted that he had not put on Candidate robes and snorted to herself.

“He can’t possibly believe that a lack of robes will deter his dragon!” she exclaimed to T’mar. The Weyrleader shot her a sidelong glance, but said nothing.

A crack suddenly hushed all other noise. Eyes searched for the hatching egg, ears heard the second crack and zeroed in—a brownish egg in the center.

Fiona tensed, wondering if she should move forward to help, but T’mar’s hand tightened on hers.

“They know what to do,” he said, nodding in the general direction of the Candidates. Among them, Fiona noted with approval, stood H’nez and Jeila; surrogate for the hatching eggs’ larger parents.

Moving separately, circling back and forth behind the Candidates, the wingleader and weyrwoman ensured that the hatchlings found their partners, guiding human and dragon alike as they made their way to Impression.