Jump down, Talenth told her, shifting her weight so that they could follow her near foreleg to the landing. Fiona flung herself feetfirst off her dragon’s neck, expecting and meeting the guiding leg before landing lightly on her feet on the ledge. She helped Xhinna down and then the two were off, running toward S’ban’s quarters and Serth’s lair even as Talenth quietly beat upward in the dark to take station with the watch dragon at the Star Stones.

“Bekka? S’ban?” Fiona called at the entrance to the blue rider’s quarters. She heard someone call back and quickly entered, passing through S’ban’s rooms, her brows furrowing as she noticed his rumpled, lumpy bed, and into Serth’s lair.

S’ban looked up bleakly from his position beside Serth’s head. Bekka gave them a quick, grateful smile, and then turned back to her father. Terin stood close by, looking desperate to do something useful.

There were others in the room, too. Fiona recognized Merika and suddenly realized that the odd lumps she’d dismissed in S’ban’s bed were probably the younger children. She nodded toward Xhinna, who gave her a quick look of comprehension and headed back into S’ban’s quarters. Shortly she could be heard quietly waking the children and bringing them into Serth’s weyr.

Tajen was there, too, and rose from the sandy floor when Fiona entered. Old L’rian was there, seated with his back against the wall on a chair brought in from S’ban’s room. Fiona waved him back down as he started to rise. Another green rider and—to Fiona’s surprise—H’nez were in attendance.

“S’ban flew in my wing,” H’nez told her quietly as he approached. Fiona could see that he was clearly moved even though he tried to hide it. He turned back to the blue rider and spared a smile for Bekka. “She says that she’s going to be a healer.”

“I expect she will,” Fiona said as she followed his gaze and wondered how it was that someone so young could shoulder such a heavy burden. Xhinna, who had managed to cajole the youngsters into the room and settle them, heard the comment as she rejoined Fiona and followed her gaze, remarking, “She was always bossy.”

Fiona snorted. The irony of the comment was lost on neither of them.

“The Weyrs raise strong women,” H’nez said, his lips pursed tightly at some hidden memory. Mother or lover? Fiona wondered, looking at the prickly, difficult, taciturn bronze rider in a new light.

Serth coughed, a long burble that devolved into a wracking wheeze that brought up more and more of the green mucus.

“We’re all here, S’ban,” Fiona murmured quietly as the blue’s fit passed miserably. As if her words were a signal, all the riders and weyrfolk in the room closed in around them, arms wrapped, hugging.