Even with the dragons of Igen, there were so few. F’jian led a wing of his own, J’gerd and J’keran flew as wingseconds in older wings.

H’nez flew with K’rall as his wingsecond. “I can always use an experienced hand, particularly with these young hotshots,” K’rall had declared when K’lior had made the announcement.

“Good luck, bronze rider,” Fiona called to H’nez as she passed quickly by. She might not like him, but she didn’t wish him ill; Pern needed all its riders.

H’nez was surprised by her kindness and returned with stiff awkwardness, “Thank you, weyrwoman.”

“Fly safe, old man!” Fiona called more cheerfully to K’rall when she spotted him.

“I will, weyrwoman, count on it!” K’rall’s bass voice boomed across the Bowl. No less loudly, he added, “I’ve been promising Seyorth a mating flight soon, and I wouldn’t want to let him down!”

Fiona blushed and chuckled at his impiety.

“Well, you’d best make sure he’s got his full strength,” she replied gamely, “because Talenth is going to outfly every bronze here!”

From her weyr, Talenth bugled loudly in agreement.

K’rall boomed another laugh. “Seyorth says that she can try!”

With a final snort, Fiona waved and moved on to the next dragonrider.

She paused when she came to T’mar. Since their return, she hadn’t had much chance to speak with him. He was briefing his wing, and she waited while he was speaking. He didn’t get much further because his riders started nodding significantly in her direction, distracting him. Finally, with an irritated, “What?” he turned and saw her.

“Wingleader,” Fiona said, with a polite nod.

“Well, now at least I see what all the commotion is about,” T’mar said, his eyes twinkling. He nodded back to her. “Weyrwoman.”

“Good flying,” Fiona said, wishing they were alone and she could say more.

T’mar met her eyes frankly. “Thank you.”

She turned her attention to the rest of the wing. She knew only a few of them from Igen and greeted them warmly, was polite to the others, and left them as quickly as she could.

She had almost completed her rounds when she was grabbed from behind, lifted in the air and spun in a quick circle before being placed back on the ground with a yelp of surprise.

“Hah!” F’dan said to her as he spun her on her heels to face him. “You thought I was some lovestruck bronze, I’ll bet!”

“F’dan!” Fiona exclaimed, burying her head against his chest. He held her tightly for a moment, then released her. “Whose wing are you in?”

“I’m flying with the Weyrleader, of course!” F’dan boasted grandly.

“Well, be certain you keep an eye on him,” Fiona said. She glanced around for K’lior and his wing. “Is P’der flying with you?”