When she was done, she went to clean up Talenth’s weyr and check her over thoroughly, insisting upon going over the great gold body with her hands, searching for the smallest signs of patchiness. She was delighted to find one and oiled it promptly, to Talenth’s great pleasure.

Really, though, she was saying good-bye. She wanted to savor every moment with her brilliant queen, to build a treasury of memories that would last all her days, to—

I will be all right, Talenth assured her. You’ll see. We have Turns yet.

Fiona’s sob brought Seban rushing to her side, his face full of concern.

“Do you think dragons could have the Sight, like Tenniz?” Fiona asked in response to his questioning look. She realized belatedly that he had never met Tenniz. “Tannaz was his sister.”

“She was a great lady,” Seban said respectfully. “By the Sight, do you mean to see what will happen?”

Fiona nodded. Quickly she told him of the gifts that Tenniz had left for her, Terin, and Lorana.

“Lorana of Benden?” Seban repeated, surprised. “I wonder why he didn’t have it delivered to her there.”

Fiona shook her head. “She,” she said, nodding toward Talenth, “told me that she would be all right. That we will have Turns together.”

“Weyrwoman,” Seban began hesitantly, “dragons have very poor memories.”

“I know,” Fiona said, running a hand briskly over Talenth’s chest. Her lips quirked as she continued softly, “I think she was trying to cheer me up.”

“Like her mate, she puts her concerns for others first,” Seban agreed, patting the queen respectfully.

“Perhaps dragons are more like their riders than we think,” Fiona mused. “Didn’t you say that if a rider wants to know how injured he is, he asks about his dragon?”

Seban chuckled. “So your gold thinks that if you feel all right, she’ll be all right?”

“A view that’s not without its merits,” T’mar spoke up and they turned to see him standing at the entrance to Talenth’s lair. He nodded respectfully toward the queen, then came to Fiona. “I don’t know if you heard but F’jian’s Ladirth—”

“What?” Fiona broke in anxiously, turning toward the entrance, ready to sprint away.

T’mar raised a hand in reassurance. “No, he is in no greater danger,” he said. “I came to tell you that he slept well and was thrilled with all the company he had.”

“Did F’jian sleep at all?” Fiona asked, relieved enough to allow herself to feel amusement.

T’mar’s brows rose and he grinned mischievously. “I believe that he and Terin managed to find some distraction from their cares, with Bekka and at least a score of others devoted to the bronze’s every whim.” He snorted. “I wonder if we’ll have to worry about our dragons being too pampered.”