Maventh's take-off was even worse than before. She lurched and dipped like an ungainly weyrling before righting herself enough to gain altitude. Arryn gave her the image of Benden, and then they were enveloped in the icy cold of between. The cold leeched the warmth she had gleaned from the sun away, leaving her teeth chattering as they burst into the air above the weyr.

Maventh! It is Maventh! called the green dragon to blue Anath.

Tears sprang up behind Arryn's eyes. She had never before heard the dragons lament like this, not even when the young dragons had been lost between. It was as if they were mourning not only the loss of their queen, but also the hundreds of hatchlings, the unborn that had died with their golden mother, their lives unrealized, unfulfilled.

As soon as Maventh landed she was in T'ran's arms. He held her close as she sobbed, letting the dragons' emotions wash over her. The unfulfilled bronzes were spreading their wings up on the fire-heights, their keens sharp with agony at the loss of their golden idol. Ereth and Maventh mourned together on the ledge, their eyes whirling with sadness.

Arryn let T'ran hold her when she was finished crying, feeling his firm arms and broad chest encircled about her, settling into a sense of security and strength. "I didn't want her to die," she snuffled into his shirt.

"I know you didn't," soothed T'ran, stroking her hair. "I know. None of us wanted this to happen."

She raised a tear-streaked face. "Linnara?"

T'ran shook his head. "I don't know."

Arryn swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffling again and offering a watery smile. "I'm sorry. Sometimes it gets away from me."

T'ran smiled, his thumb stroking her cheek, drying her tears. "It's all right."

Hint popped into existence above T'ran's head, whizzing in circles and screeching. Then he noticed Arryn's drying tears and creeled in concern, dropping onto her shoulder. The little bronze wrapped his tail about her neck and rubbed his head against her cheek, his skin warm and dry. Arryn stroked his back and he burbled in pleasure.

"Told you he liked Maventh." T'ran's smile was strained.

Arryn glanced toward the ledge, her green eyes rippling with thought. "T'ran, something's…not right with Maventh."

"What do you mean?" he asked in concern.

"She's been having trouble flying lately, and she's gained some weight, I think. Narenth tried to attack her, before she blooded," she added, almost as an afterthought, her brow creased in worry.

"I'm sure it's nothing to fret over," said T'ran reassuringly. He folded her in his arms again and kissed the top of her head. "Let's get some klah."

She nodded. "All right."

Hand in hand, they headed toward the kitchens.

The rest of the day was horrible. A sense of sorrow and tragedy hung heavily over the weyr and pressed down upon every rider as they attempted to continue with their daily activities. At first, most riders looked dazed, shocked by the events of the morning, too numb to feel sorrow; and then, as reality set in—Benden Weyr had no queen, no Weyrleader, no Weyrwoman—looks turned from shock to sorrow to…confusion. Puzzlement. What were they to do? How was a weyr to function without its figureheads?

Arryn wasted no time in finding out Linnara's fate. The Weyrwoman had clearly prepared for the unfortunate turn of events that had left her dragonless, bereft and sorrow-torn in a lonely weyr.

"Poison," said Paela sadly when Arryn questioned her. "It's really not painful. They say it's as though you're going to sleep."

"Only forever," said Arryn grimly. An image sprang up unbidden in her mind, of Linnara watching her beloved dragon choose death rather than accept a new lover, and the horrible emptiness that must have turned her mind. "Did she go mad, when Narenth died?"

"Probably, if she wasn't already," admitted Paela.

They were sitting on Paela's bed, down in the healer's quarters.

"How are the bronze-riders doing?" asked Arryn softly.

"The one who took the worst of it was K'lin," replied Paela. "Pertanth tried to hold Narenth back. He went with her into between and tried to bring her back. But he couldn't do it."

"No-one could have done that," said Arryn, thinking of the agony K'lin must have experienced, thinking his bronze lost with his would-be mate. "Where is he?"

"Who? K'lin, or his dragon?"

"K'lin."

"He's in the sick hall. They're not letting anyone see him," warned Paela.

"They'll let me see him," said Arryn grimly. She stood, and then paused. "Oh…did they…find anything, with the Weyrwoman when she died?"

Paela looked at her sharply. "They found a short note. A suicide note, I suppose."

"What did it say?"

"I…don't know," Paela replied slowly. "I think K'lin has it. He was the first there."

"Shards," muttered Arryn. "I need to go see how he is." She made her way to the door, and then stopped again. "Paela…what do you know about how dragons lay eggs? I mean, how does it work, really?"

Paela looked momentarily baffled; then she recovered herself. "Well, I've only really seen Narenth with clutch. There's really not much knowledge about the internal process, although it is known that the queen gains a large amount of weight due to the formation of the eggs inside her. After a short period of time—it depends with every queen, they're all different—she goes to the Hatching Grounds, and clutches." The healer shrugged, then narrowed her eyes. "Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"Ah…a friend of mine has a fire-lizard queen and he's too embarrassed to ask," lied Arryn quickly. She flushed as she quickly exited, feeling foolish and exhilarated and very, very scared. How had she not known? How had she not put together the signs…Maventh sleeping all the time…and having trouble gaining altitude—the weight! She shook her head at herself. "You stupid wherry-headed rider," she muttered. Then she started to grin, and she couldn't stop herself. It was all bubbling up inside her. She started to run toward the sick hall.

A few people gave her strange looks as she hastily made her way toward the infirmary, and Arryn realized that she must look a sight, grinning like an idiot mere hours after the queen's death. With an effort, she controlled her emotions and pasted a blank look on her face that she hoped would pass for sorrow.

There was a healer standing outside the sick hall. He held up a hand as she approached. Arryn recognized Ulin and groaned internally.

"Please state your business, green-rider," he said, eyeing her shoulder-knots.

"I am here to see K'lin, rider of bronze Pertanth," she replied with as much icy dignity as she could muster. It was quite difficult, forcing herself to stand still when she wanted to run and skip and laugh like a fool.

"He is in no shape to accept visitors," replied Ulin stuffily, looking up his nose at her. Arryn resisted the urge to squash the healer's face into the door.

"This is urgent business," she said coolly. "I am sure that it would be in your best interest to let me pass, sir."

Ulin blinked in confusion at her imperious demeanor. She stared at him frostily, her green eyes cold as winter stars. He grudgingly stepped aside. "Ten minutes. No more. And do not upset him," he warned as the green-rider swept past him. He shut the door behind her and resumed his watch, folding his arms grumpily.

Arryn fairly ran across the room, to the only bed that held an occupant. "K'lin!"

The bronze-rider was alarmingly pale—almost as pale as T'ran had been when Parrin hauled him out of the lake, Arryn thought. But then he opened his eyes and smiled wanly at Arryn. "Hello. Nice to have a visitor."

"How are you?" she asked in concern, pulling up a stool to the side of the bed. K'lin propped himself up on his elbows and then sat up against the headboard of the bed.

"Better, now that I know you're fine," he said. He rubbed his eyes. "I know that Narenth tried to attack Maventh." He gave her a keen look. "Do you know why?"

"In a moment." She brushed off his question. "How is Pertanth?"

K'lin sighed. "He's sleeping, I think. The idiot went after Narenth and tried to bring her back. He pulled that stunt that worked when M'ran almost died—you know, when Narenth wrapped herself around Orinth and stopped him from going between." He shook his head, mouth thinned in a grim line. "Only this time it didn't work and Narenth dragged him with her." A terrible sadness surfaced in his eyes. "I thought I'd lost him."

Arryn covered his cold hand with her own, squeezing his fingers. "It must have been horrible. And then you went to the queen's weyr?"

"We were right outside anyway, the bronze-riders and Linnara," said K'lin. "The others were still in shock and when I thought I'd lost Pertanth…Linnara had disappeared into her weyr and I went after her."

"And you found her," finished Arryn softly. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Not as sorry as I would have been if she hadn't already taken the poison. I think—I think I was going to kill her, if Pertanth was gone. But he came back and she was already dead."

What could you say to that? Arryn wondered. She didn't know, so she sat silently. K'lin took a breath and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He looked so tired and sad. She wanted dearly to cheer him up.

"Did the note say anything about….about me?" She felt horribly selfish, asking him that.

"It said everything about you," replied K'lin. He raised his head and looked at her. "It detailed Linnara's wishes that you would follow her as Weyrwoman. And it also said something else."

"It said that Maventh would clutch," whispered Arryn, feeling that bloom of hope and joy spread again in her chest when she thought of Maventh—her Maventh—laying eggs, having little hatchling dragons. Was this what it felt like to be a mother?

"So it's true." K'lin's eyes were boring into her and his hand was gripping her fingers so hard she thought they would snap. "Faranth help us, it's true."

"Yes." She nodded. "I didn't realize…I was so stupid, K'lin, but I realized just now, just as I was coming to see you." A stupid grin spread across her face and an answering smile slowly formed on K'lin's lips. He pushed himself farther up and then threw the sheet off, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"Hand me my boots like a good little green-rider, will you?" he said with a flash of his old humor.

"You're not supposed to be out of bed," protested Arryn.

"And your dragon is not supposed to be laying eggs," countered K'lin. He grinned again, fully this time. "But I'm sharding glad she is."

With a shake of her head Arryn found his boots and he pulled them on. "You're going to have to sneak past Ulin."

"You can distract him," said K'lin, his eyes glimmering wickedly.

"How?" asked Arryn, arms akimbo.

"I don't know, throw a rock or something," mimicked K'lin.

"I can't believe P'tar told you that story!" exclaimed Arryn, trying unsuccessfully to hold back her laughter at the surprise assault.

"Oh, I hear everything that goes on around hear, you know," replied K'lin solemnly, standing and trying to brush the wrinkles out of his tunic. "High and mighty bronze-rider, and all that."

Arryn smiled and thought in relief that he looked much better—still pale and a bit unsteady on his feet, with dark shadows under his eyes, but his characteristic glimmer of mischief and eagerness for life had returned. She supposed he'd just been hit hard emotionally by the queen's death….then again, they all had been hit hard.

"So where exactly are we going?" she asked, following K'lin toward the door.

"To the Hatching Grounds, where else?" he replied with a hint of incredulity. "It's been what, almost a sevenday since Maventh's flight? Or is she just as clueless as you?" he said, only half-teasing.

With a frown, Arryn reached out to Maventh. Mav, where are you, dearest? Are you at the Hatching Grounds?
No, replied Maventh calmly. I'm hunting. I'm hungry. I'm going to the Hatching Grounds tomorrow. I think, the green dragon added.

"She says she's not ready to go there yet," Arryn informed K'lin. "Tomorrow, she says."

"Well, at least someone around here knows what's going on,"K'lin muttered as he opened the door. He nodded regally to the speechless Ulin as he walked past. Arryn looked at the healer and gave a shrug, as if to say, Bronze-riders. What can you do?

xXx

The thirty or so riders gathered in the meeting room looked apprehensively at each other, murmuring amongst themselves as they awaited the Wingleader (and would-be Weyrleader) who had called them here. Rumors had spread like wildfire after the queen's tragic end and the Weyrwoman's death three days ago.. Some thought that Benden would be dispersed, its riders distributed among the other weyrs in a great diaspora. There were other, less coherent theories as well, most propagated by rather grim-minded older riders.

"Thought I'd seen it all," said a grizzled blue-rider, shaking his greying head ruefully at the turn of events in his weyr.

"Irresponsible youngsters," agreed a brown-rider with a scar carved across one eye.

R'sen, Lira and Sh'len had been called to the meeting. They formed an unhappy pod near the back of the room. H'rath, too, was there, but due to his seniority he was farther up in the throng of riders, nearer to the front of the room.

"Don't know why we're here," muttered R'sen. "Rilith's getting a bit edgy of late."

"She's probably due to rise soon, you dunce," said Lira with a roll of her eyes. Her words came out a bit sharper than she intended. They were all edgy.

"All right."

A hush fell over the room as K'lin's voice rang out from the front. He stepped up onto a chair. It was unorthodox, but they could all see him, even the young ones in the back. "I have called you here because I have a very important assignment for all of you."

The gathered riders gazed up at him silently, some with suspicion, most with traces of apprehension and anxiety stamped upon their brows.

"You are all going on Search for Benden Weyr."

There was a taut moment of stunned quiet after K'lin's announcement. Then pandemonium broke loose. Most of the riders were of the opinion that it was a cruel joke,and others, especially Lira, looked close to tears at the deep irony—their queen had just died without clutching, and here they were being told they were going on Search? It was impossible!

K'lin waited patiently for the chaos to die down, holding up one hand for silence. After many minutes passed, he finally cleared his throat and spoke again. "You are all going on Search for Benden Weyr, because there is a clutch that is even now being laid on the Hatching Grounds."

"By who?" called out one rider incredulously. "We haven't a queen, if you didn't notice!"

K'lin winced at the rider's stinging words but he refused to back down. "By one of the dragons who, it was thought, was not capable of producing eggs. But we were apparently mistaken."

"A green?" laughed another rider derisively. "You're going to tell us that a green is clutching!"

A few other riders joined in the laughter. But K'lin looked over their heads and saw the younger riders in the back of the room, staring wide-eyed at him and then glancing at each other, whispering.

"If you remember," continued K'lin, "the last clutch did not yield a queen egg. However, there was a young green who, when she hatched, displayed gold markings that faded over time."

"Maventh," whispered Lira.

"This young green is most remarkable in her size," said K'lin to the riders who were now regarding him with a guarded disbelief. "She was recently flown by bronze Ereth, and two days ago she retired to the Hatching Grounds."

"Impossible," breathed a brown-rider.

"That is what I thought as well," agreed K'lin. "But if you must see for yourself, then do so. Green Maventh has, thus far, produced five healthy-sized eggs." He braced himself, a glint in his eye. "The first of which was a golden egg."

A collective gasp resounded through the room.

"Your dragons have been identified as those especially sensitive to good candidates," he said, a hint of a smile turning up his lips at the sight of the dumbfounded riders. "So I ask you to do your duty by your weyr and go on Search. Any questions?"

A single hand was raised, in the back. K'lin nodded at the rider.

"Since her dragon has succeeded in producing a queen…does this mean that Maventh's rider is now…Weyrwoman?" Lira asked breathlessly, her eyes sparkling.

K'lin held up a hand once more as a buzz began rising from the riders. "There are no rules that govern this situation," he said quietly. "But, as we have no Weyrwoman, and are in need of one, the answer….is yes."

A murmur swept through the riders, but no-one raised their voice in protest.

"In the end, the dragons know what is best," said K'lin. "We shall see what time brings. Dismissed."