“What will you do?” Seban asked her quietly from his position near Talenth’s head. He’d scratched her eye ridges until she’d closed her eyes and lowered her head to go back to sleep.

“I told her that I wouldn’t let her go without me,” Fiona said, glancing with troubled eyes toward her queen. She frowned at Seban. “But I promised Telgar that I’d stay.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to her,” Bekka declared once more, turning to her father for support. “Tell her, Da! Tell her that her queen’s going to be all right!”

Seban gave his daughter a troubled look, shaking his head sadly.

“You can’t give in!” Bekka said, glancing from Fiona to Seban and back.

“I’m not,” Fiona assured her. “She only started coughing this morning—”

“Maybe you should move weyrs,” Bekka suggested suddenly. “Maybe this weyr has bad air and if you moved—”

“We should have done that first,” Seban interrupted her gently. “Once she’s got the illness, it makes no sense to move.” He paused, his lips tightening before he added, “It’d be more of a hurt to her than a help.”

Bekka sought wildly for another solution. “Tintoval! We should tell her,” she said suddenly. “Maybe she’ll know something. Maybe they’ve learned something new.”

“That’s a good idea,” Fiona agreed with a glance toward Seban. “Why don’t you go ask H’nez if Ginirth can send a message?” She nodded toward Talenth. “I’d ask her but she’s sleeping.”

Relieved at finding something to do, Bekka agreed immediately and raced out of the weyr, jumping off the queens’ ledge and shouting, “H’nez!” at the top of her lungs.

Fiona managed a quick smile before she turned her eyes back to Seban and Talenth. Quietly, she said, “How long have we got?”

“She’s not bad yet. Two sevendays, maybe more,” Seban said judiciously. Then, in an attempt to lift Fiona’s spirits, he added, “She’s a queen, so she may be stronger—”

“Salina’s Breth was the first to go,” Fiona reminded him, her tone devoid of any emotion.

Seban was silent for a long time, so long that Fiona was startled when he spoke again, “Whatever you do, Fiona, I’ll support you.”

Fiona nodded in relieved acceptance and gestured with a hand out toward the Weyr. “They’ve only just started to hope again, it seems terrible to steal it from them so quickly.”

“Yes,” Seban agreed, eyeing her with renewed respect. “It does, indeed, Weyrwoman!”

“Help me keep my hope,” Fiona begged him in a small voice.

Seban gave Talenth a final pat and walked over to her, placing his arms in a circle around her shoulders sympathetically. Fiona allowed herself to lean back until her head was on his chest and closed her eyes in silent communion with the ex-dragonrider.