“Will do,” Bekka called back cheerfully. With Mirressa training with the blues, Xhinna had decided to turn vice into virtue and set Bekka and J’riz together on the dawn watch. After one or two groggy days, they learned to go to sleep earlier, finding bedding places on the branches not too far from the tops of the broom trees and waking in time for the last of the night and the first rays of morning. Bekka had even figured how they could see the Dawn Sisters, her personal talisman and guiding light. “They’re a lot like me,” Bekka had said when Xhinna had teased her about it. “They’re up with the sun, bright and shiny. Besides, they led Lorana here.”
Xhinna turned back to R’ney. “So, when you find the right sort of rock, what then?”
“Then we’ll start the foundation for our hold.”
“Not Weyr?”
“I suspect many of the dragons will sleep elsewhere,” R’ney said. “So I think it should be a hold.”
“And how big?”
“Well, we’ll need rooms for Bekka’s classes, storerooms, workrooms, a laundry room, a washroom with baths and the necessary, a kitchen, and a dormitory,” R’ney said. He shook his head. “We can’t afford to make individual quarters.”
“It seems extravagant, given that we’ll be leaving all this,” Xhinna said.
“Which is why we’re avoiding any unnecessary building, as much as we can,” R’ney said. “As we don’t have to worry about Thread, we’re planning on building awnings around the main structure. As we expand, we’ll put our quarters outside, do most of our cooking outside, and do our hardest work under canvas.”
He proceeded to launch into a detailed description of the buildings, the awnings, and the planned expansions. Xhinna was impressed. “You’ve thought of everything.”
“Not just me,” he said, “Danirry’s been an immense help, and it was Colfet who suggested the mass production.” He poured a mug of klah, passed it to her, and filled one for himself. “So, what about this new problem you’ve found?”
“An old problem,” Xhinna said, “and one that we hadn’t properly considered.”
“How warm do the eggs need to be kept?” R’ney guessed. He pursed his lips. “We could build bonfires, but the effort would be immense.”
“Can we afford to be wrong?”
“Either way?” R’ney asked. “Too hot and we’ll surely cook the eggs, not hatch them.”
“We’ve got to keep them warm, probably as warm as a dragon,” Xhinna said.
“So have a dragon sleep on the eggs,” he said.
Xhinna shook her head. “The eggs are too fragile.”
“Sleep beside them, then.”
“That’d warm only one side,” she said, frowning. She thought for a moment. “Maybe if we put the rider on the other side and had them switch regularly?”
“If Kisorth lays as many as Coranth, we’d need eighteen dragons and riders,” R’ney said. “We’ve got a dozen.”
“Have the weyrlings sleep with them, as well—that would give us three dozen.”
“But the grown dragons would have to fly the weyrlings there and back each day,” R’ney protested. “That’s a lot of additional work.”
A rustling of branches announced the arrival of Bekka and J’riz, each bearing a basket of steaming warm rolls.
With a grin, Bekka said, “Stop talking, eat!” She tossed a roll to Xhinna, who caught it and then flipped it from hand to hand until it was cool enough to grab and butter.
“If this works,” R’ney added darkly.
“It’s got to,” Xhinna said, glancing meaningfully at him, willing him not to mention Taria’s experiment. The brown rider nodded.
“We could set up some tents,” J’riz suggested. “We could move our healer classes under them on the sands until Kisorth clutches.”
“That’s a good idea,” Xhinna agreed. The tents were nothing more than sewn sails thrown over a smattering of rough-hewn wood. Colfet had shown them how to make quick wooden pins; with a wooden hammer, some rope, and pegs, they could erect fair-sized coverings in thirty minutes.
“We’ll do that first thing,” Bekka said. “That’ll give us some shade.”
“We don’t have enough to cover a whole Hatching Ground from the rain,” R’ney said to Xhinna.
“Well, that’ll be your problem,” Xhinna told him. “You and Danirry figure something out.”
“Danirry will be with the Skies today,” R’ney reminded her.
“Fine, get them to set up the tents,” Bekka said.
“I’ll talk with X’lerin,” Xhinna said. The others glanced at her. “I think it’s time Jirana and I went back to Crom.”
“For Candidates?” Bekka asked, surprised. When Xhinna nodded, she said, “But we don’t know how many we’ll need!”
“We can get more when Kisorth clutches,” Xhinna said, “but we can start with eighteen now.”
“That’s a lot of extra mouths to feed,” Bekka said.
“But a lot of extra hands for work,” R’ney countered.
“And we’re going to be needing the hands—and the warm bodies, soon enough,” Xhinna said. “I’d rather get them in small batches and let them get used to our ways than have to bring in a whole wing’s worth in one go.”
“And when will you be doing this?” R’ney asked.
“It’s probably better to bring them back by light,” Xhinna said, pursing her lips in thought. “I’d like to leave after breakfast, I think.”
“If you’re getting eighteen, you’ll be making a lot of trips. Tazith can only handle eight at best,” Bekka objected.
“I’ll see if X’lerin will let me bring V’lex, as well,” Xhinna said and was amused to see the startled reactions of the others. “And perhaps J’per.”
“I won’t be able to do this when I’ve Impressed Laspanth,” Jirana said as she clambered up Tazith’s foreleg early the next day.
“What?”
“Well, she’ll need me full time and I won’t be able to do this mind stuff,” Jirana said. “That’s only because of Laspanth, you see.”
“No,” Xhinna said as she clambered up after the dark-haired girl. “Not at all.”
“That’s all right,” Jirana said, patting Xhinna’s knee before reaching for her riding straps and tying on. Xhinna had rigged her harness to secure Jirana and six others.
Sarinth says they’re ready, Tazith told her as she looked up at the blue and green hovering in the air above.
“Ready?” Xhinna asked the girl in front of her. Jirana nodded.
Let’s go, Xhinna thought to Tazith. He leapt into the air, took two beats, sent the word to the two other dragons, and the three of them jumped between.
When they returned, three hours later by Sky Weyr time and six hours later by their own time, Xhinna was exhausted and could barely manage to keep the gabbling girls surrounding her from falling off before they landed on the soft-packed sand of the beach.
Jirana leapt off easily and raced to help Bekka and J’riz arrange a group of weyrling riders to handle the excited, frightened, shocked girls down from both their first ride on a dragon and their first time between.
Fortunately, the girls had not had to navigate the painful echo of the time-trapped D’gan and Fiona—that seemed to be heard only going forward through time, not coming back.
The first six were quickly joined by another nine girls, as well as three scrawny boys. Tazith had selected them, with some help from Jirana, who had seemed more eager to sleep than to talk.
“It’s because I’m in this time too much,” the girl had explained when Xhinna had tried to rouse her. “It’s like Fiona and T’mar—too many of them in the same time. It’s hard.”
“But they only noticed it after they Impressed.”
“They’re not me,” Jirana had said stubbornly.
Now, back once more in her “proper time,” as she called it, Jirana perked up and was bouncing up and down on the sand as she described her exploits to her older brother. J’riz, to her
surprise and annoyance, merely ruffled her hair and congratulated her—gone were the days when she could drive him into flights of jealousy. Xhinna noted the exchange with a smile, thinking that the little trader girl had far too much attention showered on her, and that a little brotherly indifference would help to settle her head back on her shoulders. Jirana craned her neck back over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at Xhinna; how the child had guessed Xhinna’s thoughts she couldn’t say, although she wouldn’t have been surprised if Tazith had something to do with it—the blue seemed to be besotted with the child.
As if in confirmation, Tazith rumbled in agreement, adding, Of course. Xhinna craned her head up to catch the blue dragon looking down at her, his eyes whirling a soft green in the mid-afternoon light. She beckoned, and he lowered his head for her to scratch his eye ridges.
The nervous girls and boys stayed huddled together. Xhinna started to move toward them, but stopped when Bekka charged ahead of her and into the group of newcomers like a dragon through a flock of wherries.
“Line up,” the young blond healer called. “Line up now so that we can meet you.”
Xhinna looked around and saw V’lex and T’rennor standing to one side, arms folded. V’lex smiled and waved. When she reached them, T’rennor looked at her and said, “Nothing like training others to learn yourself.”
“Not enough boys to Search?” V’lex commented, watching the new group being guided into three rows of six each by J’riz, Jirana, Alimma, and two of the green riders.
“Most of the lads old enough are working the fields,” Xhinna said. “Those three were the only male Candidates we could find in a hundred.”
“Three in a hundred?” V’lex asked, aghast.
“Too many died in the Plague and the rebellion, Nerra told me. More daughters lived,” Xhinna replied. “With so few men to take their holdings, and too many mouths to feed, many sent their daughters where they could.”
“There were women in the fields, too,” T’rennor said. “With the men dead, they had no choice.”
“So we fly with women,” V’lex said, nodding toward Xhinna. “If they’re all like you, we’ll have no problem.”
“It’s the browns and the bronzes that worry me,” Xhinna said. “I don’t think any of the boys here would be taken by one of them.”
“Well, that’s a problem for another day, isn’t it?” T’rennor said easily.
“It is,” Xhinna agreed.
“They all look so sad,” T’rennor said. “They’ll need feeding and care.” He frowned. “It’s a pity we couldn’t have saved the others. So many died just after the Plague.”
When T’rennor’s Kisorth clutched five days later, the Weyr was ready. As soon as the eggs were hard enough, Xhinna assigned a weyrling and rider to each of the sixteen eggs on the sands. Jirana walked directly over to one small, brownish one and touched the shell gently. “Hello, Laspanth, it’s me.”
“Jirana, I don’t think that’s a queen,” Xhinna said. “And besides, don’t you want to wait until you’re older?”
“Nope, it’s her,” Jirana said with childlike certainly. “And I’m the right age now.” She squatted comfortably in front of the egg and peered intently at the shell. Then she looked up at Xhinna and whispered, “She’s sleeping, she needs her rest.”
The words were clearly a dismissal. Shaking her head, Xhinna continued on her rounds, checking on the other eggs, the weyrlings, and the Candidates, whom she insisted should help out. Bekka wandered among them, saying encouraging words to each and every one until she got to Xhinna, where she let her guard down. “What if it rains?”
“We’ll put the canvas up,” Xhinna assured her. “And we’ll do it at night, too: It’ll help trap some of the heat from the sand.”
Bekka glanced around nervously once more and then, noticing a young rider looking their way, put on a brave smile again and patted Xhinna on the back.
It didn’t help Xhinna to know that the young queen rider and healer was as worried as she. She didn’t sleep that night, waking fitfully to make rounds through the mass of eggs, weyrlings, and riders. She wasn’t the only one, but while others dropped off one by one through the night as exhaustion took them, she kept on roaming until the Dawn Sisters appeared in the sky.
Jirana, rolled into a blanket and curled around the egg she’d claimed, opened her eyes and gave Xhinna an angry look when she passed by.
“You’re disturbing their sleep,” the little girl said, meaning the eggs. “I’ll tell you if they need help.”
“It’s my job,” Xhinna told her sternly.
“Just trust me,” Jirana said. Coming from a small, dark-eyed, half-sleeping child, these were words that Xhinna found hard to credit. Jirana sighed and reached out to grab Xhinna’s hand. “Trust me,” she repeated.
Xhinna smiled at her, patted the hand, and gently pushed it back into Jirana’s pile of blankets.
“We need these eggs to hatch,” she said. “We can’t fail.”
Jirana bit her lip and looked away from Xhinna, muttering, “You’ve just got to trust me.” Then she closed her eyes and rolled back toward her egg.
Xhinna stared at her. The child was a mystery: She had led them right so many times and yet—it was still hard to believe her claims. No one had ever heard of a queen egg coming from a green, not even among the fire-lizards. And here was this girl claiming not only that her egg was a queen, but also that she was in communication with the queen and already knew her name.
It was against all tradition, Xhinna thought wearily as she made her way back to Tazith.
I trust the little one, the blue offered as he drifted back to sleep, curling comfortably around his rider.
I worry about her, Xhinna said. She bears a lot on her shoulders. Maybe too much.
As she drifted off, she thought she felt a tendril of love coming from the direction of Jirana and her egg.
“Well, sixteen is a good start,” X’lerin said a sevenday later as he examined the guarded beach. He turned to Xhinna and examined her face. “You, however, have bags under your eyes. You need to get more rest.”
Xhinna shook her head, stifling a yawn. “I can’t,” she said. “No more than you; R’ney’s working overtime, and the whole Weyr is camped out here on the sands.”
A frown crossed the bronze rider’s face and he leaned closer so that his words would carry to her alone. “What about Coranth?”
“I know she clutched, but we can’t figure out where,” she said with a frown. “She’ll need Candidates, though.”
“And where will she get them?”
“If she’s got eggs Hatching, I’ll send her all the Candidates she needs,” Xhinna swore. “I don’t care how we do it—we need more dragons.”
“True,” X’lerin agreed. “But if she’s right about the Mrreows …”
“We’ll deal with that if it’s so,” Xhinna said. She doubted that Taria was right. She knew the green rider, knew that she was holding on now out of pure stubbornness. Xhinna wasn’t sure what Taria would do if it turned out she was wrong; she hoped she’d return and accept the consequences.
X’lerin paused as he spied Jirana, happily lying with her back against her egg. He turned to Xhinna with an eyebrow raised questioningly.
“She swears it’s a queen, her Laspanth,” Xhinna said, shaking her head.
“She’s been right about so many things; it’s a pity she’s wrong about what she wants the most.”
“So it can’t be a queen?”
The young Weyrleader shrugged. “K’dan says there have been some stories about the fire-lizards, but they were more likely the tales of confused holders.”
“The fire-lizards came from somewhere,” Xhinna said. “I wonder why we’ve got both green and gold females if only one of them has eggs that hatch.”
“Green fire-lizard eggs hatch if they’re watched and kept warm enough,” X’lerin said. “Or that’s what K’dan tells me.” He sighed. “He said that Verilan had an idea
once that perhaps the blues and greens were first, and the golds, browns, and bronzes came after.”
“I could see how that might be,” Xhinna agreed. “The blues and the greens are smaller, more able to survive on less than the larger creatures.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” X’lerin said. “If you’re right, then perhaps a green hatched the first gold.”
“From a blue mate,” Xhinna added. Her expression changed as she added, “All this clutching is giving people ideas.”
X’lerin raised an eyebrow, so she explained: “Many of our woman riders here are either pregnant or trying.”
“That won’t be a problem, will it?” X’lerin asked, frowning.
“I don’t know,” Xhinna replied. “We’ve got more than two Turns before we go back to fight Thread, and they’ve got at least a Turn before their dragons are ready to fly, so this is the best time for them to start a family.”
“So you’re encouraging them,” X’lerin guessed.
“Not that so much as just letting the facts speak for themselves,” Xhinna said. “And it’s helping the older riders, too.”
“How so?”
“They’ve got an investment in the future,” Xhinna said. “Not only do they see these riders as their future wingmen, but they also see their children as a part of them, part of the wings, part of the Weyrs when we come back.”
“It gives them something to live for,” X’lerin said.
“Exactly,” Xhinna agreed. With a twinkle in her eye, she added, “And something to do in the meantime.”
“So am I to hope that you’re taking your own advice?”
“I will, when the time is right,” Xhinna said.
“Didn’t you just tell me that that time is now?”
“I’ve my duties,” Xhinna replied, turning away from him.
“It’s a duty of a wingleader to see to the future,” X’lerin told her softly. “I know that not all blue or green riders can find it in themselves to be parents.”
Sky Dragons Dragonriders of Pern Page 22