Some of the quieter women looked up hopefully at that.

“It will take time to heal, I know,” Fiona told them. “And things will change, as they do whenever there’s a new Weyrleader.”

“And who would our Weyrleader be?” Shaneese asked, none too politely.

“For the time being, the senior bronze rider is H’nez of Fort Weyr,” Fiona replied. She cocked her head toward the Weyr Bowl. “My Talenth has reached three Turns—”

“Three Turns!” Vikka exclaimed, brows furrowed. “I don’t recall a Talenth in the Ballads for Fort.”

“She was of Melirth’s last clutch,” Fiona explained. “We went back in time to Igen, and remained there for three Turns to allow our weyrlings time to mature.”

“So she’ll rise any day now,” Vikka said with a knowing nod.

“And then what?” Shaneese demanded. The other women in the room looked at her with various displays of anger or irritation but she brushed them off, continuing, “The sickness, has a cure been found?”

Fiona shook her head.

“So how long before your dragons start coughing?” Shaneese persisted. “How long before they die?” Her gaze bore into Fiona as she added, “Will your queen even last long enough to clutch?”

“Shaneese!” Vikka exclaimed, bearing down angrily on the smaller woman. To Fiona she said, “You must forgive her, Weyrwoman, she so loved her L’rat.”

“There’s no forgiveness necessary,” Fiona said, forcing herself to remain calm despite the black-haired woman’s onslaught. She glanced at Shaneese. “Kindan and Lorana at Benden Weyr have been working on a cure.”

“Lorana?” Shaneese repeated. “The one who lost her queen?” She snorted in derision. “Why should she want to help others?”

“Kindan lost Koriana and still he found a cure during the Plague,” Vikka replied. She glanced back to Fiona in dawning recognition. “You’re Koriana’s sister, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Fiona said, forcing herself to speak over the lump in her throat. “So I know something of Kindan and I tell you, he won’t let us down.”

Something changed in Shaneese’s manner as she absorbed this. “I see,” she said. “Well, I hope he’s quick because I’m not sure I can handle another dragon dying.”

“Where can I find the headwoman?” Fiona asked, deciding that she had said enough here and it was time to continue her tour.

“That’d be me,” Shaneese said. “At least it was until this morning.”

“If you want to step down, I understand,” Fiona said, recovering quickly from her surprise. She glanced over to Tevora. “When I go to the Smithcrafthall, I can bring you, if you’d like.”

Tevora glanced up nervously, then shook her head. “They probably think I’m dead.”

A mousy-haired woman reached over and patted her on the shoulder. “You are good with metal, Tevora, we could certainly use you here.”