CHAPTER 21

A stone ceiling floated slowly into focus above I'an as he awoke. He groaned. His head swam, his vision shifting nauseatingly between fuzziness and clarity. Slowly, he recognized the interior of the Weyr infirmary, beds lining the wall opposite, the room lit dimly by glowbaskets hung in the corners. Someone was sitting at his bedside, a dark head resting on a thin arm.

"Teri," I'an croaked, breathing a sigh of relief. She was safe.

Her head shot upright, bouncing into multiples in his shaky vision. A smile wiped away the anxiety that dragged on her features. "I'an," she breathed. "You're awake."

White bandages peeked out from under the neckline of Teri's loose tunic. He squinted in an attempt to focus his jittery eyes. Her left arm was wrapped in a sling, bent at the elbow and immobilized against the bottom of her ribs.

"You're hurt," he muttered. "Dathan! The eggs—"

"Are safe," Teri finished for him. "Dathan's men tried to steal them, but they were stopped." Teri quickly related what had happened, describing her and Aeneth's injuries, the dragonriders' arrival, the bandits' surrender, and the search for and capture of the three men who had gotten away. "They're being held in Feilon to await their punishment."

"And Dathan?" I'an whispered.

Teri's shoulders sank. "He was killed during the struggle. I'm sorry, I'an."

I'an blinked back the moisture blurring his eyes. His vision was bad enough without being obscured by tears. "I guess justice was served," he said gruffly.

"He was your father."

"That didn't make him a good man."

Teri didn't answer. Her face was lowered, her right hand playing with the hem of her tunic. The fingers on her left hand hung limply from the open end of the sling.

"Teri, I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"Why are you apologizing?" she asked in surprise. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"Your arm, Aeneth, the eggs. It's what I've been so afraid of for the past few months. My family—my father hurt you. They could have killed you." He raised his hand to brush his fingers across her cheek.

"But they didn't," Teri said, catching his hand against her face. "Aeneth and I are fine. N'hal patched us back up and there's no permanent damage."

"I should have done more. I should have stopped them."

Teri shushed him, placing his hand back down on the bedside. "I'an, it's not your fault. Everything has been put right and no one blames you for anything."

I'an shut his eyes for a moment and breathed deeply in an attempt to slow the spinning in his head. "How did they find me?" he asked, remembering the meandering trek through the forest to the clearing.

"One of Dathan's men was wearing dragonrider's wherhide. When he was questioned about it, he told them where you were."

I'an thought hard, bits and pieces of memory coming back to him. He had briefly returned to consciousness to the sound of dragonwings and men shouting. It had been dark and cold and smelled like rotting wood. He remembered hands pulling him out from where he had been hidden under a log, and then he had passed out again.

"What happened to you?" she asked.

"Dathan," he replied, his heart constricting at the memory. "He led me away from the militia camp to talk." He snorted. "It didn't go very well. How long have I been unconscious?"

"Just a day. How are you feeling?"

I'an held a quaking hand to his head. His skull was tender and bruised, throbbing where he touched it. "My eyes are doing funny things," he mumbled. "Maybe I'll go blind and we'll be a matching set."

"That's not funny," Teri said coldly, her eyes like ice.

"Sorry. Bad jokes are how I deal with stress." He laid his hand over Teri's. Her fingers wove through his, a small smile wavering on her lips.

"I'm so glad you're safe," he said.

"The same for you," she replied warmly. She leaned forward, her hand finding his chin before she planted a small kiss on his forehead.

"Where's Nydia?" he asked as she sat back. "Can I see her?"

Teri hesitated for a moment, emotions flitting across her face too quickly for him to read, then nodded. "I'll go get her."

I'an closed his eyes as Teri left his bedside. It relieved the aching in his skull slightly, but did nothing for the turmoil in his mind. Dathan was dead, his men undoubtedly soon to be hanged. How long would the rest of the band last without them? That half of his life was gone. Once, he had thought it would be a relief, but it just left him feeling empty. At least he had finally decided where his allegiances lay. It was a small consolation.

The door to the infirmary creaked open. I'an opened his eyes, fighting dizziness. Nydia stood in the doorway on her crutches. She clunked slowly down the room and sat in the chair Teri had vacated. Her eyes were swollen red and her lips trembled.

"Niddo," he whispered.

"I told you not to call me that." She didn't look at him, staring instead at her hands in her lap.

He sighed. "I'm sorry. Nydia." He reached out a hand to her but she pulled away, hiding her face. "It was you, wasn't it," he asked quietly, "who told Dathan about the eggs?"

She sniffled and balled her hands into fists. "Go on," she said hoarsely, her whole body shaking as she attempted to breathe normally. "Yell at me. I know what you're thinking. It was all my fault. Numbshell Nydia at her best." She fixed her swollen eyes on him, her face reddening.

"Nydia—"

"Ask me, how could I do such a thing? How could I betray the people who took care of me? Go on. And now everyone's been captured and Father's—" her words dissolved into a whimper, tears streaming down her face.

I'an dragged himself into a sitting position despite the pain slicing through his head. He reached out to Nydia as she sobbed, covering her face with her hands, and pulled her into an embrace. To his surprise, she didn't resist. She crawled up onto the bed and balled up at his side, burying her face in his shoulder. I'an held her tight and rocked her gently, his own tears dripping onto the back of her head. He couldn't remember the last time he had embraced his sister.

"I'm so sorry, Nydia," he whispered. "I won't leave you again." He kissed the top of her head. Her arms tightened around him as her sobs increased. They sat in each other's arms for a long time.

Later that day, Teri asked him if he had made peace with his sister.

"We're on our way," he replied sleepily. He was lying in bed again, his pain dulled after a dose of medicated wine. "It will take some time."

"And tears, by the sound of it."

"Dragonmen don't cry," I'an replied as indignantly as he could through his medicated haze.

"Maybe," Teri said, her face turned toward him, "but grieving sons do."

A lump began to form in his throat and he clenched his teeth to keep his lips from trembling. He waited to speak until he could trust his voice to stay steady. "Tell me about these green dragon eggs. What's the plan concerning them?"

Teri leaned forward and rested her good elbow on the bed. "Well, once they were all recovered from Dathan and his men, J'den moved them directly onto the Hatching Ground. They've been through some stress, but Aliana hopes it hasn't harmed the embryos' development. She guesses they'll hatch in another month."

I'an closed his eyes, his blood slowing as the drugs took effect. He was back in the Weyr, safe for the time being. His sister was nearby and the girl he loved even closer. The ragged holes in his life would heal with time. The pleasant rhythms of Teri's voice washed over him, lulling him slowly to sleep.