“Grall is curled between Canth’s eyes, so stuffed she’d likely not move if we went between. Which I’ve half a mind to do. If you hadn’t told me I could trust G’nag, I’d swear he’d not delivered my letter to F’lar, or else he’s lost it.”

“You are not going between with that wound, F’nor. And if G’nag said he delivered the letter, he did. Perhaps something has come up.”

“More important than Impressing fire-lizards?”

“There could be something. Threads are falling out of phase—” Brekke broke off, she oughtn’t to have reminded F’nor of that, judging by the bleak expression on his face. “Maybe not, but they’ve got to get the Lord Holders to supply watchers and fires and it may be F’lar is occupied with that. It certainly isn’t your fault you’re not there to help. Those odious Fort riders have no self-control. Imagine taking a green out of her Weyr close to mating—” Brekke stopped again, snapping her mouth closed. “But Rannelly said ‘my queen,’ not ‘her’ queen.”

The girl turned so white that F’nor thrust his good hand under her elbow to steady her.

“What’s the matter? Kylara hasn’t ducked Prideth out of here when she’s due to mate? Where is Kylara, by the way?”

“I don’t know. I must check Wirenth. Oh, no, she couldn’t be!”

F’nor followed the girl’s swift steps through the great hanging trees that arched over the Southern Weyr’s sprawling compound.

“Wirenth’s scarcely hatched,” he called after her and then remembered that Wirenth was actually a long time out of her shell. It was just that he tended to think of Brekke as the most recent of the Southern Weyrwomen. Brekke looked so young, much too young…

She is the same age as Lessa was when Mnementh first flew Ramoth, Canth informed him.

“Is Wirenth ready to rise?” F’nor asked his brown, stopping dead in his tracks.

Soon. Soon. Bronzes will know.

F’nor ticked over in his mind the bronze complement of Southern. The tally didn’t please him. Not that the bronzes were few in number, a discourtesy to a new queen, but that their riders had always contended for Kylara, whether Prideth’s mating was at stake or not. No matter whose bronze flew Wirenth, the rider would have Brekke and the thought of anyone who had vied for Kylara’s bed favor making love to Brekke irritated the brown rider.

Canth’s as big or bigger than any bronze here, he thought resentfully. He had never entertained such an invidious comparison before and ruthlessly put it out of his mind.