Order collapsed, and B’nik was too overwhelmed with his own immediate survival to reestablish it.

From the sounds above him, neither could D’vin.

Fiona was with Lorana when she gave her first tortured cry.

“What is it?” Fiona asked, rushing from her place beside Talenth toward the ex–queen rider. “Is it the baby?”

It was too early, far too early for the baby, Fiona thought desperately even as she had Talenth order Birentir and Bekka to their aid.

“No, it’s the dragons!”

It took a moment for Fiona to grasp her meaning. “Benden?”

“The sun, the glare, the winds,” Lorana gasped in response. She looked up and met Fiona’s eyes. “They’ve lost ten already.”

“We should go help.”

“I’m not sure Tullea would—”

“I’ll send Jeila to her, along with Birentir,” Fiona said, sending the orders to Talenth. She glanced at Lorana, her lips pursed in thought. “You can’t come, it wouldn’t be good for the baby.”

“We wouldn’t be between that long.”

“No, we wouldn’t,” Fiona agreed. “But I don’t want you to have the added stress of tending the injured while also growing a baby.” She smiled wryly, adding, “Besides, you’d be too tired.”

Lorana sighed in agreement.

“What happened?” T’mar demanded as he rushed into the room, flanked by Bekka and Birentir.

“Benden,” Fiona responded tersely. “I’m going to send Birentir and Jeila to help.”

“Should we send someone to High Reaches as well?” Jeila asked, glancing toward Fiona.

Fiona hesitated.

“Go on, if you want to help,” Lorana told her.

T’mar, sensing her distress, added, “I’ll stay here.”

“I’ll leave Bekka,” Fiona said, turning quickly to her closets and quickly flinging on riding clothes. She paused long enough to be certain that Jeila was getting her Tolarth ready, before shouting to Talenth, who was already waiting below the ledge.

In a moment, queen and rider were airborne and then, gone between.

“What are you doing here, Weyrwoman?” Sonia asked in startlement as she recognized Telgar’s senior queen rider. For a moment, suspecting the worst, Sonia paled, but Fiona’s words revived her, “I’m here to help, Weyrwoman. You’ve got injuries.”

“Not many,” Sonia said, gesturing to the two dragons being tended in the distance. “We’ve more lost than hurt.”

Fiona glanced around and nodded in surprise.

“Lorana says that the wind and the morning sun have made it worse,” Fiona said even as another dragon bellowed in the sky above the Weyr and descended swiftly to the Weyr Bowl. Fiona started, instinctively, toward the dragonpair.

She nodded quickly at the attendants who rushed to aid the scored dragon and rider, hovering just far enough from them to avoid interfering while close enough to be able to examine the wounds.