As Menolly rose obediently, Mirrim caught her hand and squeezed it. Then she rose, shook her skirts out and marched from the cubicle, Menolly following more slowly behind her.

Mirrim had by no means exaggerated the amount of work to be done. It was just past sunrise, but obviously the main cooks had already been up for hours, judging by the breads—sweet, spiced and sour—cooling on long tables. Two weyrmen were trussing a huge herdbeast for the main spit and at the smaller hearths, wild wherries were being cleaned and stuffed for roasting later.

For added protection in the busy kitchen, someone had placed the small table over her fire lizard egg basket. They were doing fine, the sand nice and warm all around. Felena caught sight of her, told her to feed herself quickly from the sauce hearth and did she know anything flavorful to do with dried fish? Or would she prefer to help pare roots?

Menolly instantly elected to cook fish, so Felena asked what ingredients she’d need. Menolly was a little dismayed to learn the quantity she’d have to prepare. She had had no idea that so many people came to a Hatching: the number coming was more than lived at Half-Circle Sea Hold.

The knack in making the fish stew tasty was in the long baking so Menolly applied herself to prepare the huge pots quickly, to give them enough time to simmer into succulence. She did so with such dispatch that there were still plenty of roots left to pare.

Excitement filled the air of the kitchen cavern. The mound of root vegetables in front of Menolly melted away as she listened to the chatter of the other girls and women. There was great speculation as to which of the boys, and the girls for the queen egg, would Impress the dragons to be hatched that day.

“No one has ever re-Impressed a dragon,” said one woman wistfully. “Do you think Brekke will?”

“No one’s ever been given the chance before.”

“Is it a chance we should take?” asked someone else.

“We weren’t asked,” said Sanra, glaring at the last speaker. “It’s Lessa’s idea, but it wasn’t F’nors or Manora’s ... ”

“Something has to help her,” said the first woman. “It tears my heart to see her lying there, just lying, like the undead. I mind me of the way D’namal went He sort of ... well ... faded completely away.”

“If you’ll finish that root quickly, we can put this kettle on,” said Sanra, briskly rising.

“Will all of this be eaten?” asked Menolly of the woman beside her.