Lorana nodded mutely, marveling that the other woman was too distraught to see how that could defeat her own suicidal threat.

Tullea rose then, looking back to Lorana as she added, “I never knew, never until I knew that I would lose him, how much I loved him.”

“I understand.”

“I don’t know how you manage, half-alive without your dragon,” Tullea said with pity. She frowned. “It’s tearing Ketan apart, that’s for certain.”

“Ketan,” Lorana repeated sadly. “I should see him.”

“Last I saw him, he was drunk, head down on a table in a pool of his own spittle.”

“We can go, right?” Fiona asked as she glanced down at Bekka. She had no problem deferring to the girl’s expertise.

“The older midwives all agree that neither of you are in great danger,” Bekka said, looking up to Fiona where she sat, perched on Talenth. “But don’t stay between too long and be certain to bundle up—what might give you a cold could terminate a pregnancy.”

“We’ll be careful,” Lorana promised as she started to climb up toward Fiona.

“And I’ll make certain they do,” Kindan said, as he helped her reach Fiona’s outstretched hand and then followed her up Talenth’s foreleg into a position behind the Weyrwoman. He’d been furious when he’d heard how Tullea had dismissed the older healer’s troubled drinking and had insisted on accompanying Lorana and Fiona on their visit to Benden Weyr.

“And not too much klah, either of you!” Bekka called as she stepped back.

Talenth moved away from her, took a leap, and beat her way into the midday air.

“Look!” Fiona called, pointing down. “There’s Xhinna!” The dark-haired girl waved at them, while her blue dragonet butted his head against her leg.

“Will she be all right?” Lorana asked, craning back to Kindan.

“She’ll do fine,” he promised. “She has a gift with young ones.”

As soon as they reached the level of the Star Stones, Fiona gave her queen the image and they went between.

“I’m sorry, I—” Ketan apologized in a slow, dead voice as he sat up at his desk, drinking from a mug of klah placed in his hand by Kindan, who had arrived at the healer’s quarters before them. “I thought I could manage,” he croaked, glancing furtively at Lorana before returning his eyes to the mug in his trembling hands. “I thought perhaps with enough drink, I could …”

Lorana shot Kindan a desperate look, but the harper could only shake his head; he had no suggestions.

“You’ve got to concentrate on what you have to live for,” Fiona said softly.

“Live for?” Ketan barked a laugh. He waved a mug in her direction. “I’ve nothing to live for!” He raised his other hand and made a sweeping gesture. “Face it, Weyrwoman, we’ve nothing to live for.”

“What do you mean?”