“I noticed it more after the time passed that I’d Impressed Zirenth,” T’mar said. “Up until then, I felt like I’d been in a room with bad air but after that I felt like I was always just too far away to listen on a conversation that I was straining to hear.”

“Yes,” Fiona said in agreement. “It was as though someone was calling to me but I could never find them.”

“It strained the nerves,” H’nez surmised.

“More than that,” T’mar said. “It was like a fingernail running down a slate—every moment of every day.”

H’nez winced appreciatively. “Not a pleasant experience,” he decided. “And not something we’d like to recover from just before a Fall.”

“Which leaves us with the issue of firestone,” T’mar agreed.

A dragon’s sudden warble from outside the Weyr Bowl caused Fiona to turn her head sharply, first surprised, then amused.

“Bekka has decided that Talenth needs to eat,” she informed the concerned wingleaders with a grin.

“Seban was a good rider,” H’nez said as if in consolation. “I’m sure that Bekka has Talenth’s best interests at heart.”

“I’ve no doubt,” Fiona agreed. “Apparently Talenth was surprised at just how much she’s learned from her father.”

A distant cough caused Fiona’s grin to slip and she turned, stricken, toward F’jian.

“That wasn’t yours,” Shaneese said to Fiona as she approached; following the Weyrwoman’s gaze, she groaned, “Oh, no!”

“It’s spreading,” Fiona said grimly, watching as Terin wrapped her arms around the young bronze rider who sat, stunned with fear.

Norik strode over quickly from the entrance at the far side of the Cavern leading from the storerooms and dormitories.

“That’s two in as many days,” he said as he approached. He looked consolingly toward Fiona. “As near as I can tell—with Bekka’s help—Healer V’gin recorded that there was no pattern in the spread of the disease.”

He pursed his lips sourly as he glanced toward Fiona. “But we did discover that the longest a dragon lasted from the onset of the illness was no more than three sevendays.”

“That agrees with what we’ve seen at Fort,” H’nez said. He grimaced as he added, “Two sevendays is the average.”

“Then our time is set,” Fiona said, rising from her chair, anxious to be doing something. “Either we find a cure in the next twelve days or Telgar will lose her queen.”

Shaneese put out a hand toward her, gesturing for her to sit again. “You haven’t finished eating and from what I’ve heard, neither has your dragon.”

Fiona opened her mouth, ready to argue, but Shaneese gave her an imperious look that was so reminiscent of her late grandmother, Mother Karina, that Fiona found herself obeying automatically.