Chapter 11


Teri had a peculiar feeling in her chest as she ran her fingers over Nemath's smooth hide. She couldn't identify it, a mix between awe and longing. She laid her palm flat against the dragon's snout, feeling the warmth emanating from his powerful muscles, the bumps and pockmarked scars from the hot ash that came from charred thread. The spicy scent of dragon filled her lungs and clung to the inside of her nostrils. Nemath snuffled, a gust of warm air blowing Teri's hair back and she giggled, reminded of the times she and Aren had snuck into the stables to see the runnerbeasts. Wren chirruped on her shoulder and rubbed against her cheek like a cat, as if reminding her that he also needed attention, and he was a bronze at that.

"He's beautiful," said Teri, smiling despite the ache in her throat. She could feel the bass vibrations in her chest as Nemath rumbled in reply.

"He likes you," said R'meri's voice behind her. He clumped closer, his crutch thudding dully against the hard ground. "He says he's glad that we found you."

"I'm glad too," Teri murmured softly. She let her hand rest against Nemath for a moment longer, not wanting to let go. This is what I could have had, she thought to herself. If I could only impress. With a sigh, she pulled her hand away. "I'm glad I got to meet him," she said, "before I leave."

"Teri-"

"Don't, R'meri. We've had this conversation a million times already." Or at least it felt like a million times. Most of them had taken place in her mind. She had struggled enough with herself to decide to leave and she didn't need R'meri to give her second thoughts. "My mind is made up."

"But it's wrong," said R'meri adamantly. "You should at least try. Forget what N'hal said. B'nonin has no right to keep you from being a candidate."

Teri's heart squeezed sharply. Why did R'meri have to bring this up again? Didn't he remember anything from their conversation the day before? She didn't need to be reminded, especially now with her doubts rampant. "He's the Weyrleader," she said tautly.

"Well, he doesn't know everything," said R'meri. "Teri, I don't want you to go, I want you to stay. Just think about it, if you impressed, it would solve so much!"

"I've thought about it," said Teri, gritting her teeth and twisting her skirt in her hands. He had no idea how much she'd thought and how much she wanted it.

"Then why are you leaving?" R'meri asked. "Why don't you stay and prove B'nonin wrong?"

Teri paused, trying to force words out of her tight throat. "I don't want to take the risk." Shells, she didn't even know if she could impress. What if she did just go out there and disobey the Weyrleader, only to end up left alone on sands? It was a thought too painful to think about.

"Won't you regret it, passing up this opportunity?" asked R'meri.

Teri bit her lip, trying not to think about that. She could imagine what it would be like, turns from now, looking back. Would she be haunted by wondering all her life? She felt like she was going to burst, with her thoughts and insides all pulling in different directions. "I don't want to take any more risks," she repeated unhappily.

"But this could be the solution to everything!" said R'meri eagerly.

"I don't want to talk about it," said Teri. She felt miserable cutting him off like this, but it was for the best. He couldn't know how much she wanted to be a candidate, to hopefully impress and become a dragonrider. It would only hurt more to raise both their hopes because it couldn't happen.

R'meri was silent for a moment. "When are you leaving?" he asked quietly.

Teri shrugged. "Whenever N'hal gets back." Or at least that's when she hoped she was leaving, if N'hal was willing to take her back.

R'meri's heart sank. He was running out of time. He let out a sigh and leaned hard on his crutch. His good leg quivered with the effort of keeping his balance and he felt himself growing lightheaded. He guessed that he might have wrenched his arm in his exertions. The numbweed would wear off soon, and he didn't think he could keep standing for much longer. Faire would murder him if she knew he had left his bed, but he couldn't stay in the infirmary and just let Teri leave.

Nemath, say something! he pleaded silently. Maybe a dragon's opinion would hold more weight than his own.

Why do you want her to stay so much? asked Nemath curiously.

Can't you see that she needs to impress? It would solve everything! said R'meri, blinking hard to keep his vision focused past his bandages.

She doesn't need to impress a dragon to solve her problems, said Nemath. She's a good person and a dragon wouldn't make her better.

I know that, but that's not what I mean, said R'meri. It was so frustrating to see Teri shunted aside, her dreams crushed. It was wrong, to deny her what brought him such joy. He couldn't imagine what life would be like if he and Nemath were kept her from flying. She would be a good dragonrider, R'meri continued.

If you say so, I'm no Search dragon. Nemath shifted his weight closer to his swaying rider, eyeing him reproachfully. You're hurting, you should sit down.

I'll be all right, said R'meri. He leaned gratefully against Nemath's broad side, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. I need to convince Teri to stay.

I do like her, admitted Nemath.

R'meri sighed again and smiled sadly. He slid slowly into a sitting position, stretching his splinted leg out in front of him. Me too. He looked up at Teri, so small next to Nemath's bulk. She had her head cocked to one side as if listening to some far off sound, an anxious look on her face. What he felt for her didn't come only from playing a part in saving her life. He wanted the best for her, but he wanted more for her to stay at the Weyr.

"Why do you want to go so much?" he asked.

Teri turned her face towards him, her features betraying some internal struggle. "I miss my home," she mumbled. Or, at least she missed the home she had had. Everything would be different, but she hoped it wouldn't change anything. She wished she could just forget everything and curl up in her mother's embrace. Or hear Aren laugh again and see her father smile.

"Yes, but why do you want to leave here?" R'meri pressed.

Teri's insides squirmed uncomfortably. She didn't feel ready to share all of her feelings. She was afraid that her rationale would sound frail and transparent if she voiced them aloud, or R'meri would change her mind somehow. She just needed to leave, to get away from everything. She didn't know if it would be better in Keroon, but she couldn't live in the Weyr. To stay in a place surrounded by a dream she could never attain would be torture. Going back to Keroon would hurt too, but not as much as staying in the Weyr.

"Is it the people or something?" R'meri asked, his voice cracking. "Do you dislike us?"

"No, of course not," said Teri hurriedly. "You have all cared for me more than anyone in Keroon. If I could stay, I would. I just don't belong here."

"Do you have to leave so soon?" asked R'meri quietly.

Teri bit her lip and nodded in response. R'meri was silent, and she felt horrible. She wished she could spend more time with him, but she had to leave before the Hatching. It would be unbearable to be so close, only to have others impress while she sat on the side.

R'meri slumped against Nemath, wondering what he had done wrong, that she was adamant against staying. Maybe he shouldn't have tried so hard to change her mind. But he wanted her to stay so much.

It's not your fault, Nemath assured him. You did everything you could have done.

But did I do too much? asked R'meri despondently.

Of course not, replied Nemath.

R'meri smiled wearily. Unconditional love didn't always mean unconditional honesty, but it was nice to hear. At least he had Nemath, whatever happened.

Rinth and N'hal are coming. Nemath raised his head and bugled a greeting.

R'meri craned his neck and caught a glimpse of glowing green wings before they banked out of view behind Nemath's flank. He pulled himself up slowly, dejection weighing him down like lead as he watched Rinth come down to land.

Great gusts of air blew into Teri's face, dust stinging her eyes. The whooshing sound of great wings filled her ears and wind swirled around her. She felt the impact vibrating up through her legs as a huge weight hit the ground in front of her. Something snorted dragon breath into her face. A Wren produced image of a huge green flipping her wings primly to her back and observing them curiously popped into her head.

"Hello Teri. Sorry about Rinth," said N'hal's voice from far overhead.

"Hello, Rinth," said Teri faintly, taking a step backwards.

Hello Teri. Teri started. She had heard the voice, but not with her ears. It was inside her head, a deep yet feminine, intelligently feral voice. Comprehension dawned slowly. Did a dragon just speak to her? Wren squeaked and shrank against her neck.

"What are you doing out here R'meri? You should be in bed," said N'hal in concern, swinging down from Rinth's neck to kneel by the younger rider. What was he thinking? N'hal wondered. And how in Faranth did he manage to get out of the infirmary?

"No," said R'meri hoarsely, waving N'hal away feebly. "I'll be fine here."

"Don't be ridiculous." N'hal hoisted R'meri gently to his feet and supporting his weight. "I'm taking you inside."

"No, I have to stay with Teri," the brownrider protested. He looked pale and beads of perspiration dotted his forehead and upper lip.

"That's sweet of you, but you won't be helping her or yourself any if you relapse into a fever," said N'hal sternly. "You're going back to bed."

"So I guess this is goodbye?" asked Teri, forcing out each word. She wasn't used to goodbyes. She hadn't been able to say goodbye to her parents, or Aren, or even Mhera and Lena for that matter. Did this mean that she was never going to see R'meri again? Something deep inside her hurt at the thought. "Thank you for everything," she mumbled.

"No, you can't leave," said R'meri desperately. "Don't go, please. N'hal, you have to let me stay out here, I have to convince her not to go."

N'hal grimaced at R'meri's piteous pleas, hating himself. All he wanted to do was help, and all he managed to do was hurt. He had had to crush Teri's hopes twice already, informing her about her brother's death and then telling her that she couldn't be a candidate. And now he had to crush R'meri's. The brownrider could barely stand, yet he was willing to do whatever it took to make Teri stay. They didn't know, but she had no choice, she was being sent home on B'nonin's orders whether she wanted to or not. He growled mutinously under his breath. I wonder if B'nonin would be so eager to give out these orders if he had to carry them out.

"I can stay with Nemath," R'meri begged, trying to pull away from N'hal's firm grip.

"Go inside," said Teri. She didn't know what to think anymore. R'meri's protestations were eating away at her resolve. Could she leave when he wanted her to stay so much? Her head buzzed with confusion, a deep humming filling her ears.

Nemath raised his head ponderously and blinked, a thin inner eyelid sliding down over his eyes with a soft click. He felt unconsciously all the other dragons in the Weyr do the same. Somewhere, far out on the edge of his awareness, something stirred, a tiny consciousness opening its mind to the world. The brown dragon snuffled with joy and urged it on in wordless encouragement, drawing air into his vast lungs to hum.

N'hal gasped, his gaze flicking up to the two dragons where they sat, a myriad of colors whirling over their faceted eyes. "The Hatching," he said, as the cry echoed around them, a sudden flurry of activity rising and moving towards the hatching grounds. "It's happening now!"

"What?" cried Teri, her heart thumping in her ears. She could feel the deep humming vibrating in the ground and coming up through her legs.

"Teri, this is perfect!" said R'meri eagerly. "We can sneak you onto the hatching ground. N'hal will help us, right?"

"No, I need to leave now," said Teri, dread and panic mounting in her chest, her throat going dry. "N'hal, please, I need to leave."

N'hal looked from Teri to the hatching grounds back to R'meri's pleading face, feeling helplessly caught. He wanted to help Teri have what she wanted, but he didn't want to hurt R'meri. Why does someone always have to get hurt? he cried in distress, blocking out the others' protests.

There is another way, said Rinth. You know what it is.

But Teri doesn't want that. She said she didn't, said N'hal uncertainly.

That doesn't matter, she's meant to impress, replied Rinth simply. She was so certain, could N'hal really doubt her? He looked back at Teri, could see the longing in her eyes that she had tried to suppress.

"Teri, do you really want to leave?" asked N'hal urgently, eyeing the stream of weyrfolk funneling through the tunnel into the hatching ground. He caught a flash of white tunics in the corner of his eye and grimaced. "I mean do you really not want to be a candidate?"

"But you said I can't!" said Teri, utterly confused. "You said that a blind person couldn't be a good rider."

"I was wrong," said N'hal. "Even now we still don't know everything about what makes a dragon and its rider."

"Don't you want to become a dragonrider?" pressed R'meri.

"Of course I do. You have no idea how much I want it. But isn't there a lot that has to take place for me to get there? What if I don't impress?" Teri felt that with every repetition, her reasoning grew smaller and thinner, desire and hope battling past all of her excuses.

"You will impress, Rinth said so," said N'hal, his feeling of being caught and out of control quickly fading. He was tired of being helpless. "Not that you should stand because you would make a good candidate, but that you're meant to impress."

Teri opened her mouth wordlessly, searching for something to say. She wanted to be a candidate, so why was she resisting? Wasn't N'hal's reassurance enough?

Go to the hatching, said a low, soundless voice. Teri jumped in shock and wonder, recognizing its alien feel. Rinth was speaking to her again, telling her to go to the hatching! Teri's mind raced, trying to comprehend everything. It was so simple. It all came down to one choice, but why did it have to be so hard? Was it really sound reason that was holding her back, or just simple fear?

"Won't you regret it, passing up this opportunity?"

"What if I don't impress?"

At a twinge of pain in her hand, she realized how tightly she was clutching Aren's pendant. One of the pointed petals was jabbing into her palm. She let go of the necklace and rubbed the sore spot anxiously. Wouldn't Aren have wanted her to go?

"What do you want to do, Teri?" asked N'hal, pulling her out of her frantic contemplation.

Teri straightened her head and swallowed hard, fearful hope suffusing her. "Can you take me to the hatching?" she asked, apprehensively.

N'hal grinned, his relief punctuated by R'meri's whoop. "Of course I can. Come one, we'll have to find you a tunic."

---

J'den found his seat next to the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman in the risers overlooking the sand. He settled onto the stone and smiled, sounds of excited chatter and footsteps swirling around him. Thirty two mottled eggs, a good sized clutch, were ranged over the ground with the golden queen's egg nestled between Myrnoth's menacing claws. Every so often, one of the eggs would tremble, causing a tremor of awe to run through the people in the stands. The air was filled with a palpable sense of excitement, emphasized by the dragon's deep humming.

"Hello B'nonin. Aliana, you look well," he said.

"Thank you J'den. How fares it with you?" said Aliana, a thin, dark woman. She smiled and surreptitiously nudged the pensive Weyrleader in the side.

B'nonin started and blinked, a vaguely troubled expression on his face. "Oh, hello J'den," he murmured.

"It's a beautiful day for a hatching isn't it?" said J'den pleasantly, shading his eyes and gazing up into the sky, a washed out blue with scatterings of filmy clouds. "How is Myrnoth doing?"

Aliana rolled her eyes in an exaggerated expression. "This hatching couldn't have come any earlier. She's been as crochety as a proddy green. It will be good to get her off the sand and back into the air."

"She's done us all proud," said J'den, grinning broadly. "At least five bronzes in this clutch, I'd wager."

"Have you put any marks on that?" asked Aliana playfully. "I'm sure some of these dignitaries have brought purses that need to be lightened."

"No, I wouldn't take marks from guests of the Weyr," said J'den. He cast his eyes around the gathering crowd, picking out the families of the candidates from their excited and nervous gesturing. There were the Craftmasters, their rank displayed in rich clothes and commanding posture. Dragons swooped down to let off their passengers who scurried quickly into the stands. A sudden flurry of excitement rose from the end of the stands nearest to the entrance to the grounds and J'den craned his neck to see the white forms of the candidates marching in. Beside him, Aliana was doing the same. She shot him a quick, knowing smile and turned her attention back to the sand. J'den chuckled. He had lost count of how many hatchings he had attended, but they never grew dull, each one making him relive his own impression on the hot sand.

The dragons bringing latecoming guests made their drops and hurried away to settle among the others lining the Weyr shelf. Just one green remained on the sand, her rider carefully helping their white clad passenger down. J'den squinted down at the suddenly familiar form. That was N'hal and Rinth, but who was this candidate that they were bringing in the last instant? Did they go on another Search that he didn't know about? He thought they were supposed to be taking the blind merchant girl back to Keroon. J'den frowned. N'hal's candidate seemed to be unsure and unsteady in her movements, clinging to the greenrider's hands and groping around her as he guided her across the sand. With a start, he realized that she must be the blind girl. J'den jumped up furiously. The fool! Did N'hal really intend to make her a candidate? How could he disobey a direct order from the Weyrleader? J'den started to move down the risers as N'hal left the girl in the arc the other girls had formed around the eggs, but Aliana caught his sleeve.

"Where are you going, J'den?" she asked. "What's the matter?"

J'den turned back to the Weyrwoman, but his answer was drowned out by the crowd's collective gasp as the first egg broke open. A tiny blue lay crying piteously on his side in the remains of the eggshell, one wing fouled beneath him. The line of boys started forward, one curly haired boy faster than the rest. He knelt beside the glistening hatchling and helped him to his feet.

"B'nonin!" J'den shouted. "B'nonin, you have to stop her!" The Wingleader missed the first impression as he made his way to B'nonin, trying to raise his voice over the cheers and applause of the crowd as more and more eggs began to wobble and crack.

B'nonin had spotted Teri and realized who she was almost instantly. There was no mistaking the lean form of the greenrider as he sprinted back to the waiting Rinth, and he guessed that his passenger was the mysterious girl. He felt relief swelling in him, followed quickly by deflating shame. After his conversation with N'hal and J'den, B'nonin had tried unsuccessfully to convince himself that they had been right. He regretted yielding to J'den's argument, even though the bronzerider had valid objections. B'nonin sighed and leaned forward to watch intently, grateful that N'hal had been brave enough to do what he should have done.

---

N'hal dismounted and pulled off his riding gloves, kneeling on the edge of the shelf to see the sand below. He watched the shuffling forms of the dragons around him nervously, but they had eyes only for the hatching. Riders almost never stayed with their dragons on the Weyr shelf, but N'hal didn't have to nerve to go into the stands after defying the Weyrleader's orders.

We did it, Rinth, he said in relief, resting one hand on Rinth's foreleg beside him. Now hopefully B'nonin won't have us thrashed. He wiped sweat from his forehead and searched the ground for Teri.

About half of the eggs had already hatched: four blues, a brown, five greens, and two bronzes. Most of the girls were still standing around the queen egg, some of them casting worried glances at the greens that had already hatched and impressed, their convictions torn. N'hal gazed frantically over the broken eggs and remaining candidates, wishing that they hadn't chosen to dress Teri in the traditional white. He couldn't find her among all of the others. Then he spotted her and cursed. She was alone, disoriented and wandering in the wrong direction, away from the eggs. N'hal groaned and held his hands to his head. He should have realized that she wouldn't know what to do, not having been to the usual candidate training, and that without sight she would be especially helpless in the chaos of hatching.

Shells, Rinth! She has no idea what's going on! N'hal bit his lip and willed her to turn around, to get back to the eggs and impress. Can we do anything? He had a disheartening feeling that it would all turn out very badly.

---

The first thing Teri noticed had when they reached the hatching ground was the heat. She had winced when her feet first touched the ground, the heat searing through the thin soles of her shoes. Now it was almost unbearable. Her feet burned as they sank into the deep sand with every step, the blazing grains finding their way into her shoes and sticking to her sweating skin.

The hatching was nothing like she had expected it to be. She had imagined it to be beautiful and orderly, each candidate impressing in quick succession. In reality, it was close to the worst experience of her life, mostly because it fell so short of her expectations. Teri could barely think with all the noise, the gasps and cheers from the crowds, the erratic cracking of eggshells, the squawking of the hatchlings, all underlaid by the incessant humming of the dragons. Wren huddled on her shoulder, trilling fearfully. With each new cry of jubilation from the successful candidates, Teri's heart sank, her own chances of impression dwindling. Despair had started to flutter in her throat, for she hadn't imagined that she would have to go to the hatchlings to impress. She didn't know where to go or what to do. Hatching was a fierce competition, and she was severely set back.

Teri stumbled as someone pushed past, falling to her hands and knees and unseating a squawking Wren. A spray of sand caught her in the face and she cried out, the maddeningly irritating grains stuck everywhere. Even her teeth felt gritty. She pushed herself upright and staggered forward, bitter tears washing the sand from her eyes. She knew she should never have tried to be a candidate. She could imagine everyone watching and jeering, laughing at the stupid blind girl who thought she could be a dragonrider. She just wanted to get out, to curl up in a corner and cry. Or better yet, disappear. Whimpers of shame and disappointment escaped past panting breaths as she struggled to make her way off the sand.

Suddenly, beating wings were in her face, a shrill voice squeaking at her. Teri cried out and lurched backwards.

"Wren, what are you doing?" she cried. "Stop it!" The fire lizard ignored her and continued to flap in her face, pushing her backwards. Teri tried to avoid his blows, retracing her steps back into the fray.

The crowd was starting notice the strange antics of the little bronze firelizard at the edge of the hatching sands. Heads were turning, fingers pointing. The little queen hatched and the line of girls started forwards warily, afraid of inciting Myrnoth's wrath, but few people noticed.

J'den watched, horrified, as the little firelizard pushed—no, herded—the girl back towards the eggs. It was ridiculous. The girl couldn't even see the hatchlings to impress them, she shouldn't be out there on the sand. He felt rooted to the spot, his body frozen against his mind's frantic protests. Gasps and scandalized chatter rose from the stands as the girl stumbled closer to the remaining eggs. She tottered, slipping on a broken eggshell, and to J'den's horror, tripped into a feebly rocking egg and broke through the shell.

"No!" The bronzerider cried. Suddenly galvanized into action, he tried to make his way down the risers to the sand, but the crowd was too dense.

The impact was completely unexpected to Teri. She had been expecting to hit the sand, not a hard, hot surface that fractured beneath her outstretched hands. Sharp edges scraped her arms and a wet membrane stuck to her fingers. She screamed and pushed away, fearing the worst, sand caking her wet hands. Had she just broken an egg? Had she injured the dragonet inside? Her mouth went dry with dread. She was no longer just some stupid girl who had assumed too much. She might have killed a dragon hatchling.

Why do I always hurt everything? she thought in despair. Why am I so useless?

You're not useless, replied a voice anxiously. My love, you didn't hurt me.

Teri felt something damp and smooth nudging her tear and sand streaked face, and she recoiled in fear.

What's wrong? Don't you love me? pleaded the same voice.

"What? Who are you?" asked Teri fearfully.

My name is Aeneth. Don't you want me?

"Aeneth?" said Teri softly, comprehension slowly dawning, not wanting to believe it lest it all turn out to be a dream. What felt like a snout nuzzled her arm. "Are you a dragon?"

I'm your dragon, said Aeneth, her voice full of deep, unfaltering love.

"A dragon," murmured Teri, letting her fingers rest on Aeneth's smooth skin, to make sure she was real. "My dragon?" Then the full force of realization hit her and her heart leaped with joy. She felt Aeneth's love pouring through their spiritual link, engulfing every part of her being.

"Her name is Aeneth!" she shouted ecstatically, holding the little dragon's head in her hands. She had done it! Teri planted a kiss of Aeneth's snout, overwhelmed by joy, all of her fears banished. She had impressed, and nothing could take her away from her Aeneth, who loved her with all her heart.

---

N'hal and R'meri were waiting beside other candidate families to sweep Teri into a fierce hug once she was finished feeding Aeneth. N'hal tried to keep R'meri from injuring himself more, but the brownrider didn't care, cheering and pulling Teri into a tight embrace. Teri's ribs hurt from laughing and being hugged. She felt so safe and loved in her friends' embrace, finally where she belonged. Tears coursed down her cheeks, her heart aching with joy and sorrow. She wished Aren could have been there to celebrated with them.

Teri laughed breathlessly once the two riders let her go, her face glowing. She had transformed completely, no longer a scared, pale girl, but a confident young woman holding her head high.

"You did it!" cried R'meri ecstatically. "I knew you would! You impressed!"

"I almost didn't," she said, grinning. "But N'hal saved me. It was you, wasn't it? You and Rinth, telling Wren to act like that to get me back to the eggs." Her hands traced and retraced Aeneth's features lovingly, as if she were trying to memorize the hatchling's form exactly as it was. The tiny green looked up at her rider in adoration, her eyes drooping slowly with sleepiness.

"Not me," said N'hal, chuckling, "or Rinth. You were the one who impressed."

"But you helped, didn't you?" Teri repeated.

"What does it matter, you impressed didn't you?" said R'meri, unable to contain his delight. "You don't have to leave! You're a dragonrider, Teri!" He hugged her tightly again and N'hal wrapped them both in an embrace, laughing as R'meri wobbled on his crutch.

Thank you Rinth, he thought silently. "Congratulations, Teri," he murmured, his heart squeezing with happiness. "You're a true dragonrider."

"I wouldn't celebrate so soon, N'hal," said a livid voice behind them.

N'hal and R'meri turned to see J'den glaring furiously at them, but mostly at Teri, his usually handsome face twisted into an ugly leer out of place among the celebrations.

"You aren't a dragonrider," J'den hissed, stabbing his finger menacingly at Teri. "Blind girls can't become dragonriders, we won't allow it. You will never fly." He turned on his heel and stalked away.

"What was that?" cried R'meri in outrage. "He's wrong, Teri, don't listen to him!"

Silently cursing the other rider's heartlessness, N'hal held Teri's shoulders and looked into her face. To his dismay, her cheeks glistened with tears. "Don't let him get to you, Teri, whatever he says. He doesn't know anything," he said urgently.

Teri shook her head and smiled. "I know he doesn't."

"You'll prove him wrong, won't you?" asked R'meri with a defiant grin.

"It doesn't matter," she said, stroking Aeneth's head tenderly. She didn't care about J'den or anything he said. No one could stop her now. She had Aeneth, and N'hal and R'meri, and a place in the Weyr. She was a dragonrider of Pern, and no one would ever call her useless.

We will fly, she said confidently to her dragon.

Love you, said Aeneth in sleepy reply. Her jaws opened wide in a yawn and she drifted off into sleep, dreaming in soft colors.

Teri smiled past her tears. We'll fly for Aren. Someday. She held Aeneth close, oblivious to everything around them except for the feeling that she, finally, belonged.