“Worse: See all those around him die first,” Fiona guessed.

Terin’s eyes widened in surprise even as she breathed, “Yes.”

“Well, we’ve over four Wings’ worth of weyrlings between the five Weyrs and more to come,” Fiona reminded her in a light voice. “That’ll—”

“I’m sorry Fiona, but that won’t be enough,” Terin interrupted firmly. “I can do the sums, and even if somehow we could bring them all back in time and have them grow up, that would still be nearly two thousand dragons too few to save Pern.”

“Well,” Fiona said, turning to a different tack, “with your queen and the pair we’ve got already, we’ll have easily another four Wings from them in a Turn.”

“And in two Turns, they’ll be able to fight Thread,” Terin replied, shaking her head.

“We’ll think of something.”

“What?” Terin demanded. “And will it be soon enough to save F’jian?”

“Or T’mar,” Fiona added, allowing a bitter tone to creep into her voice. “Or H’nez. Or C’tov, even.”

Terin was surprised at her tone.

“Go find him, go talk to him,” Fiona said, rising from the bed and dragging the younger girl with her. “There are never any guarantees in life, Terin. The only things we can hold are the memories we’re given.”

“I’m not ready to—”

“I’m not saying that!” Fiona cut her off with a snort. “But if you’re hurting this much just worrying about him, then you at least owe it to him to let him know that.”

“Okay,” Terin said reluctantly. She paused as they entered Kurinth’s lair and turned to her queen, kneeling down and stroking the dragonet lovingly. “I’d better feed her first.”

“No!” Fiona said. “Don’t dawdle! I’ll feed her, if she’s willing.” She paused, smiling down at the pretty little queen. “Or I’ll ask Lorana, if she prefers.” She turned back to the entrance and jerked a thumb toward it. “Go! Go now.”

“What if he’s asleep?” Terin asked, temporizing.

“You’ll figure it out,” Fiona said, turning back to Kurinth and putting the young queen rider out of her sight. She remained in that position, assuming Terin’s squatting position to rub the young queen’s eye ridges until she heard Terin scamper away. To the young queenling she apologized, “She’s really a good choice, you know.”

Yes, Kurinth agreed, angling her neck so that Fiona could reach the itchiest patch.

“You’ll be big before you know it,” Fiona promised, surprised at how small the recently hatched queen seemed to her own Talenth.

Yes, I know, Kurinth said. Fiona wondered at the dragon’s certainty and shrugged; it was probably just youth and an intense desire to have that particular itch scratched.