“Very well,” Tullea said sourly. “If you need me, come find me. We’ve got Thread to fight today.”

“And if I need to borrow Minith?” Lorana asked.

“Take her,” Tullea said with a wave as she trotted off toward a knot of dragonriders. “Do what you must.”

“Very well,” Lorana said, turning toward the healer’s quarters. “I’m going to have to go to High Reaches later.”

Tullea made no response beyond another wave of her arm and then she was lost in the throng of riders.

Lorana found him in the healer’s quarters, head down on his arm, snoring loudly.

“Ketan,” she called. He stirred then resumed his snores. Lorana’s eyes narrowed and she sighed, moving forward to grab his shoulders.

“Ketan!” she shouted, shaking him roughly.

“Wh-what?” the ex-dragonrider said muzzily, lifting his head up and waving his hands. “Go ‘way!”

“It’s me, Lorana!”

“Lorana?” Ketan pried one eye open and peered at her. He jerked back in surprise and pulled himself upright, his neck craning around to peer at her. “What are you doin’ here? You’re at Telgar.”

“I wanted to talk with you,” Lorana told him, her expression softening. “I wanted to talk with you about Drith.”

“Drith!” Ketan’s voice was a thready wail. “My beautiful, beautiful Drith!”

Lorana gave the healer a long, thoughtful look, took a deep breath, and said quietly, “Do remember the last words you had with him?”

“Why?” Ketan demanded angrily. “He’s gone and I’m here and—oh, Drith! How I hurt without you!”

“Ketan,” Lorana began again softly, “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“Go ‘way!” the healer replied, turning back to his table and dropping his head on it, eyes closed firmly as if by not seeing Lorana he could make her disappear.

“Didn’t he say: ‘I must do this while I still can’?” Lorana asked quietly.

“Yes, to die!” Ketan growled, his eyes snapping open in anger and then closing again in hopes that his tormenter would leave him.

“T’mar saw the Benden Weyrleader die,” Lorana said. “He saw him come back in time, he saved him just as he saved M’tal.”

“So?” Ketan demanded. “He dies, they die, we all die.” He paused. “And then I’ll be with Drith.”

“I think you can be with Drith before that,” Lorana said, her heart beating loudly in her chest. “I think you can save three lives.”

Ketan had opened his eyes again at her words. He lifted his head off the table and craned it up so that he could see her from the corner of his wide-open eyes.

“Would you be willing to steal B’nik’s jacket?”

“Steal his—” the healer jerked upright and jumped out of his chair. “Steal his jacket? But I’ve no dragon!”

“No dragon now.”

The healer’s expression slowly changed from one of surprise and despair to one of hope.