H’nez found them that way several minutes later when he came striding briskly into the weyr.

“Weyrwoman,” he called, glancing over to the sleeping queen. “I came as soon as I heard.”

“Thank you,” Fiona said. “Did they have any news at Fort?”

H’nez shook his head. “They’ve more ill there, too.”

At noon, the Dining Cavern was not as full as it had been the day before; still Fiona was glad to see that many of the weyrfolk had gathered there. She acknowledged their looks in her direction with a smile or a nod as appropriate and went over to the hearth to see what was cooking.

“Sit down, Weyrwoman, sit down!” one of the cooks called. “We’ll bring you something in a trice.”

“It’s no problem,” Fiona said. “I was used to shifting for myself at Igen.”

“And now, Weyrwoman,” Shaneese spoke up from her side, “you’re here at Telgar.”

Fiona recognized the peremptory tone and, with a quirk of her lips toward the headwoman, demurely took her seat at the head table.

Terin rushed up with a full tray, giving Fiona a stern look.

“This is not Igen,” Terin scolded her as she set the plates out. “There are people here to care for you; it’s their duty.”

“I was just—”

“I know,” Terin said, her tone softening. She leaned in closer to Fiona. “They need to know they’re needed, you can’t change them too quickly.”

Fiona ducked her head meekly and Terin, who knew her too well, snorted. “Just give them a sevenday before you put everything on its ear.”

“I’m afraid that’s too late,” Seban murmured as he approached them. He smiled at Fiona and nodded to Terin as he continued, “Word about Bekka’s efforts has already caused quite a stir.”

“Besides,” Fiona admitted sadly, “I may not have that much time myself.”

She caught Terin’s and Seban’s worried looks and explained, “At least until Talenth …” Her voice trailed off and she let out a deep sigh to hide her worry.

Terin set the tray on the table and quickly wrapped her arms around Fiona’s shoulders. “Whatever you decide will be all right with me.”

“I’m not giving up!” Fiona told her forcefully. She forced a smile for Seban. “Kindan never gave up, and I won’t give up.”

Terin sniffed, patted Fiona on the shoulders once more, then picked up her tray, repeating before she bustled off, “Whatever you decide.”

From above her someone cleared his throat. It was H’nez. “Do you mind if I join you?”

Fiona shook her head, gesturing to a seat with her free hand. He smelled of firestone and of the cold between: He’d been drilling the wings. Fiona approved of his thoroughness even in these trying times. “I was expecting it.”