"What are you going to name them?" asked Cesrik. She had a brown cradled in the crook of her arm.

Elienya smiled. "Ging," she pointed to the green, "and Peyt." She gave the blue's eyeridge a scratch. "What about you?"

"Zan."

"Zareth and Zan," Elienya mused. "I like it." She looked at the others. The gold lay asleep in Eryn's arms, and the girl had an awed look on her face, holding the little queen gingerly as if fearing she'd vanish between. Deilen had the bronze firelizard in his lap, and a green firelizard on one shoulder, both chirping plaintively. C'net had managed to snare a blue, and Pennoly had a brown in her arms.

She gazed at the smashed eggs and carcasses sadly. In a clutch of eighteen eggs, only seven had survived. The rest had either gone between or died at the hands of their siblings. A mess of blood, scales, and sand coated the hearth, but when Elienya rose to try and clean it Ging squawked and gave her a salty stare. Laughing, she settled back down and stroked the green's back.

"I'm sorry, my love," she cooed. Peyt crawled up into her lap and curled up alongside his sister, their snouts pressed together. He huffed and splayed one of his wings protectively across her back, and she cuddled into his side.

Zareth's head jerked up. Kyoth's rider comes, she warned Cesrik.

Cesrik grimaced. "V'neren's on his way." Unable to hide the firelizards, the group waited and stared at the entrance to the Weyr. When the Weyrleader stalked inside, he froze at the sight of the firelizard clutch on the hearth and the firelizards in their arms.

"What in the name of Faranth…are those firelizards?" Eying the entire group, he marched over to Eryn, who squeaked in alarm. Alerted by her distress, the queen opened a sleepy eye and chirped in question. V'neren reached out as if to touch her but the queen hissed and he stopped. Eryn edged away from him uncertainly.

"Yes, sir," said Cesrik. "We were going to let you know, but you dismissed us to our Weyrs and we didn't want to disobey you." Elienya smothered a grin. Her best friend knew how to manipulate the Weyrleader perfectly.

"How considerate," he muttered. "Well, I suppose there's nothing to be done about it now. We'll have to monitor them closely to see what they can do." He sighed and shook his head, clearly displeased with the turn of events. "As for you two, I spoke with Weyrleader H'rezen and he said he had no knowledge of the Master Herdsmen or the food."

"As I said," said Cesrik with a polite smile. "They're ours."

"How did they get there?" asked V'neren. "Master Herdsman Terren wouldn't say, and I certainly never gave the order."

Cesrik lifted one shoulder in a delicate shrug. "Who can say? We stumbled upon them when we went to the Southern Continent to enjoy a day at the beach."

V'neren's eyes narrowed. "You're hiding something."

Cesrik batted her eyelashes innocently. "Am I?"

"Yes, you are. And mark my words, girl, I'll figure out what it is, and if you're up to something…"

"If I'm up to anything," said Cesrik with unexpected steel in her voice, "it's the maintenance and protection of this Weyr." The implied criticism of his role as Weyrleader was not lost on V'neren, who's eyes narrowed further. Without another word, he turned and left, casting one last glance at the gold firelizard in Eryn's arms.

One sevenday later…

Elienya curled back a bandage from the dragonriders forearm and grimaced. There'd been another ambush on a supply train, but the rebels had attacked with swords instead of flamethrowers. Apparently, the man had brushed off the laceration as " a mere scratch" and left it to grow infected. Green pus leaked from the wound and trailed down his arm. His eyes were fever bright, and the color had leeched from his skin.

She treated him with fellis juice before she cleaned the wound and smeared antibiotic ointment into the pink, swollen flesh. Once she'd finished, she made sure he slept in one of the many cots in the room and went to assist Master Healer Jesslyn. Ging and Peyt snuggled in the sling she'd secured across her shoulder, asleep after their hearty breakfast. Their soft snores made Elienya smile.

"We're out of fresh bandages," said the Master Healer when she approached. "Will you go to the kitchen and make sure Veteny's boiled more like I asked?" There was no love lost between the Headwoman and Master Healer, for reasons Elienya couldn't explain. Nodding, she left the Infirmary and started to walk across the Weyrbowl when she paused. There was a huddle of Weyrbrats in the Weyrbowl facing three dragons; a brown, a blue, and a green. She squinted and took an involuntary step back. The riders had the bold S on their shoulder knots that signified them as Search riders.

The dragonriders had come on Search once more.

Elienya's mind flashed back to the first time she'd been Searched. She'd been so confident, striding out there as if she deserved to be among them. What had happened to that confident girl? I failed, she reminded herself, and her lips thinned. Rather than walk forward, she scurried across the Weyrbowl to the lower caverns before she could be spotted.

In the kitchens, she sought out Headwoman Veteny, who glowered at the sight of her. "What do you want? I'm busy preparing lunch."

"We're out of bandages in the Healer Hall," she said. "Did you boil more?"

Veteny sniffed. "I will once I finish lunch."

"It's quite urgent," said Elienya. "Did you know there was another attack on a supply train?"

"Of course, I know," said Veteny. "I'm not a dimglow."

"Then you should know the importance of getting us those fresh bandages," said Elienya coolly.

Veteny eyed her sourly. "Fine."

Smiling to herself, Elienya turned and left. She'd almost reached the Weyrbowl when a greenrider stepped into her path. She recognized T'van from her Search and her heart squeezed.

"There you are!" he said. "I've been looking for you. Why weren't you in the Weyrbowl?"

Elienya curtsied. "What can I do for you, sir?"

He frowned at her formal tone. "You've been Searched. Pelyth has been keeping an eye on you, and she says you're an even stronger candidate than before!" Elienya blinked. A stronger candidate? Even though she'd failed? The green must've made a mistake. Or she felt sorry for Elienya and said that to boost her spirits. Neither option appealed to her.

"Oh," she said.

"Oh?" T'van gave her a knowing look. "I know you didn't Impress the first time, but I'm going to let you in on a little secret." He cupped a hand over his mouth and leaned in close. "Pelyth's never wrong. Every candidate she's ever chosen has Impressed." He winked. "You should take that to heart, lass."

"Oh," she said again, unsure how to feel about this turn of events.

Laughing, T'van clapped her on the shoulder. "Why don't you take some time to think about it and give me your answer later, alright?" He turned and walked away, leaving Elienya to her turbulent thoughts. She kept reliving the moment on the Hatching Grounds when Zareth had, quite literally, tossed her aside in favor of Cesrik. She placed a hand to her ribcage, where the brutal scars of that day haunted her.

Dragged awake by her stormy emotions, Ging and Peyt poked their heads out of the sling and chirped. She smiled and ran a hand over their smooth heads. "I'm alright, dearlings," she said. "I'm alright." She walked across the Weyrbowl to the Infirmary, and stepped inside with a blink. Cesrik paced the length of the room, her arms folded across her chest. There was a moody tilt to her lips, and her shoulders were tight. Zan perched on her shoulder, his brown tail wrapped around her neck to keep his balance. He warbled a greeting to Ging and Peyt, who responded with pleased chirps.

"What's wrong?" asked Elienya. "Are you hurt?"

Cesrik spun to her with accusing eyes. "There you are! Where were you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The Searchriders already spoke with all of the Weyrbrats," she said. "I went down to see you, but you weren't there! Come on, we're going to find a Searchrider. You're going to Impress the queen this time, I just know it!" She grabbed Elienya's hand and began hauling her towards the door, but Elienya dug in her heels and dragged them to a stop.

"I spoke with T'van," she said, lowering her eyes to the floor. "I've been Searched."

"Oh, I knew it!" Cesrik wrapped her arms around Elienya in a fierce hug, but when she pulled back and saw the look on Elienya's face, her smile fell. "What's the matter?"

"I don't know if I'm going to accept," she said quietly.

"What?" Cesrik jerked her hands back as if she'd been burned. "What are you talking about? It's your dream to Impress a gold."

Elienya closed her eyes. It had been her dream, but those dreams had been dashed on the sands when Zareth mauled her. She didn't deserve to ride a queen dragon. The little dragonet had shown her that. She'd been arrogant and willful, assuming herself better than the other candidates. A queenrider needed to be confident, yes, but she also needed to have an open heart, and look beyond herself and her petty desires. She'd become too engrossed in what she wanted and hadn't thought about what was best for the Weyr, and Cesrik had ended up being the best thing for the Weyr.

"Eli," said Cesrik and took her hand. "Talk to me."

"I can't go through that again," she whispered. "I just can't."

"You're afraid to fail." Elienya said nothing. "The only sure way to fail is to never try, Elienya. You have to try."

"I don't know," said Elienya.

Cesrik remained quiet for a few long moments. "Master Healer Jesslyn," she said, "may I borrow Elienya for a bit?"

"Yes, dear," said Jesslyn. She bent over the tail of a dragon to administer numbweed, her nose scrunched against the smell.

Cesrik beamed. "Thank you. Come with me." She pulled Elienya by the hand out the door.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see." Cesrik took her across the Weyrbowl and through the entrance of the Hatching Grounds. Despite Elienya's protests, Cesrik pranced right up to Benelith, who'd been drowsing. She jerked awake at their approach and regarded them warily, her eyes whirling an anxious shade of orange.

Cesrik bowed. "It's a beautiful clutch, Benelith. May we see your eggs?"

Benelith preened at the compliment. You may. She had a far better temperament than Herth when it came to her clutch. She settled her wings along her back and watched them as Cesrik pulled Elienya towards the queen egg. Elienya bowed as she passed, and the queen gave an amused snort.

The queen egg looked larger than the one that had held Zareth, a fact that probably irked the Senior Weyrwoman. It had the same pale shell, a creamy yellow, with mottles of gold. Cesrik ran a hand along the egg and smiled, gesturing for Elienya to do the same. After a moment of hesitation, Elienya joined her, careful to keep her mental capabilities in check.

She placed her hand on the egg and felt its warmth radiating through her fingers. Unlike the last time, she'd didn't feel a nudge against her hand, but she did feel a sharp pinch of curiosity. A gasp parted her lips, and she jerked her hand back.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"This could be your dragon, Eli," said Cesrik. "It would hurt her, and the Weyr, if you didn't stand to Impress her. You'd make a fine Weyrwoman."

"Zareth didn't seem to think so." She couldn't hide the note of bitterness that crept into her voice.

"Zareth may not have chosen you, but that doesn't mean another dragonet won't," said Cesrik. "Promise me you'll try?" Shaking her head, Elienya turned and wandered among the other eggs. She ran her hand along mottled shells, some with odd shapes on the hide – probably bronzes – and others with swirls of blue or green. It struck her, as she placed her hand on a slightly smaller egg than the rest, that she'd forgotten something in her desire to Impress the queen. Girls could Impress greens, too.

In her arrogance, she hadn't even given the greens another thought, and hadn't touched any of the other eggs. What if her dragon had been in a different egg and she hadn't known it? What if she hadn't even given her a chance?

Besides, it would benefit the Weyr to ride a green. She may not be a Weyrwoman, but she would be able to fight Thread. Perhaps she could even lead her own wing. As far as she knew from her research, bronzes were typically Wingleaders, but she would challenge custom the way she always had. Yes, a green would suit her well.

Smiling to herself, Elienya turned. "I'll stand as a candidate."