D'kor fought to wake. Struggling against an overwhelming lethargy and a frightening jumble of slippery images, he knew he had to gain control. His life was in danger, as was the lives of everyone he held dear.

You are safe. The words came with a wave of warmth just as he managed to open his eyes. But even as he felt himself relax under the assurance of Zenth's words, there was no mistaking the sense of relief underlying the dragon's voice. But as he gave himself a mental exploration he decided that Zenth's concern was probably justified, if those disturbing fragments were the result of recent memory instead of nightmare. Could explain his physical condition too. Never in his life had he felt so weak.

He was in his own bed and it was night. There was a small glow on the table providing dim illumination, but enough to see that someone had been messing up his room. Parchments and books were scattered across his table, in-dispersed with a number of different bottles and more than one cup and plate. That also told him that he had been out of it for a while.

"How long?" he bethought of Zenth.

A few days. But he had the feeling it had been longer. If Zenth thought it that length of time then it was probably over a sevenday. But stay quiet, she needs the sleep.

That had him curious. It took a lot of effort and he was sweating with the exertion when he finished, but he finally managed to turn over.

It was Lytah. Slumped in a chair to the side of the bed, she had fallen asleep while reading a book. Very gently he reached to pull it across to a less precarious position onto the bed, annoyed at how he even lacked the strength to lift it.

But as he studied her he felt the rise of alarm. She was pale and had lost weight and she didn't have a lot to loose. Shadows smudged under her eyes and hair working loose from her normally immaculate style, confirmed Zenth's words.

"Is she ill?" he asked.

She has been very worried, as have we all.

D'kor could feel the tiredness in his dragon. That, with his words, told him that he had been seriously ill." Just how ill was I?" Zenth's hesitation and feeling of serious concern gave him answer. "I nearly died?"

We wouldn't let you.

That brought up words and images. He was fighting against the dark but its pull was relentless. Lytah had been there, as well as others, but it was her voice calling out to B'rak to stop someone, before telling him to stay with them, not to sleep.

He had been held then and he was struggling against being forced to drink, until Zenth told him to. But the taste was horrid and he didn't want to. Then he had heard her order Zenth to help her, felt Zenth's panic in his question to her as to how, but between her strength and the dragon's pleading, he did as they wanted. Then they left him alone. For there had been a fight and he knew S'bor had been hurt. For the moment he didn't want to know how badly.

But in the memory of all that, a thought surfaced. "Zenth, did Lytah speak to you?"

Yes.

"I mean directly, not through Natoth."

I knew what you meant and the answer is still yes.

"How long has she been able to do that?"

For as long as I can remember. It used to be that she would have to speak in words directly, but over the turns it has become as we talk.

Lytah could bethink Zenth? That would explain a few things. "Only you?"

Lytah can speak to and hear any dragon. But it is only Henth, Katath, Nikolath and Azoth that she can bethink, that she does not have to be with to talk to. As well as myself and Natoth of course.

"Of course." That was news. He wondered if the others of the group knew, though he would be surprised if N'eth didn't. Natoth and Azoth were as close to friends as could be. "But you sound tired my friend, I should let you sleep now."

Thank you D'kor. I will see you in the morning. And almost within a heartbeat D'kor felt the shift in his dragon's awareness. Zenth obviously had not had a lot of sleep either. He focused back onto his other companion.

Well, well, dear green, he thought, aren't you full of surprises? He knew that Nalaya has been able to talk to any dragon, as several of the other queen riders could. It was seen as a mark of a good weyrwoman, even if there were some who couldn't. Not that that diminished their effectiveness, for queens did not choose poor riders.

He wondered if Lytah knew what a rare gift she had. Even with his extensive research to find records of other female green riders, he had come across no mention of that talent among those rare few mentioned. Still, he wondered if he was ever going to get the opportunity to develop that idea. With Interval only a few turns away, maybe the introduction of more women into the ranks would solve some of the problems he had seen. The worst rider/dragon adjustments were between the female greens and their male riders. V'hul came all too painfully to mind.

He had the feeling though that he was going to have plenty of time to work through any plans. By no means mentally tired, there was no way he was going to be able to go back to sleep, he felt physically drained and he had the feeling it was not going to be a quick road to recovery.

So there wasn't a lot of point in working through everything right now. But as he shifted to a more comfortable position, his hand brushed against the book. Well, if nothing else, his recent experiences had taught him that information could be found in the most unexpected places and not to pass up the opportunities when presented. He moved a pillow around to prop up the book and began to read.

He had finished reading before the dawn arrived, to then spend the time until she woke, absorbing what he had read, feeling only the slightest of qualms that it was obviously her most recent journal. For even though it contained her personal thoughts and opinions, there was a lot of information covering the last few months. Information which added a different perspective on what he had been doing. For which he was grateful, even if some of the news imparted was not good. He now had the data to make sense of what had been going on. It also gave him insight as to how quietly influential she and her family were. He wondered if she were more harper than rider.

Lytah woke efficiently. One moment she was asleep and then the next he found himself under the intense regard of those amazing amber eyes. She smiled even as she then yawned with a stretch. "It is good to see you finally aware. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drop off. Why didn't you wake me?"

He propped his head up onto one arm. "Zenth ordered me not to."

He noticed a slightly vacant expression cross her face, before she came back to him. "Good, Natoth says that he has been sleeping most of the night."

"Natoth told you that?" There was her sharp look then, she missed nothing of what he really meant. He continued. "Zenth told me that you can bethink the dragons in our little group."

She offered no apology for him, nor did he expect any. Lytah kept her secrets, as did they all. Though she was not going to be happy if she found out that he knew of some of her others, he was glad that he had managed to drop her book quietly to the floor well before she woke.

She stood and walked from view and he heard liquid being poured. A moment later she was back at his side, this time sitting on the edge of his bed.

He tried sitting up, but fell back as a wave of dizziness swept over.

"I thought you were being a little adventurous there." She positioned herself with one arm around his neck, the other hand holding the cup to his lips. Shards, but he hated this feeling of helplessness. Even tempered as it was by having her so close. "You will feel very weak for a least a couple of days, until we get some liquid and food into you and build up your energy levels again. Which we have already planned for as we know how you will react to that."

When she eventually released him, she sat for a moment, her regard seriously intense. "You are going to have to be patient with us D'kor, you have been very ill for the last ten days."

"Zenth said that I nearly died."

"That you did. Look, I'm not going to lie to you, but we've had others here not nearly as ill for as long, and not pull through. So if we seem a little restrictive it is because everyone is feeling protective of you. Now, is there anything you would like?"

That was easy to answer. "A bathe."

Her frown was fleeting after a time of redirected thought, before a nod. "T'men is on his way to give you a hand. I'll find Gillian to get this bed changed as it will be a lot easier without you in it."

She left when T'men arrived, for which D'kor was grateful. T'men injected just the right amount of humour into the situation to help him deal with needing help with even the most basic of necessities with too much embarrassment. Though T'men pleaded defeat when it came to D'kor's hair. It had been left tied back and had since worked its way into a tangled mess. Even cutting the tie with his belt knife hadn't achieved much.

"I'm going to have to send Lytah in to deal with this," T'men finally admitted.

D'kor's strong protest to that was ignored. He was left with the thought that he hadn't expected her earlier prediction about being sent crazy to be so quickly fulfilled. The only thing here, he supposed, was that the depression in the floor, though not necessarily wide, was at least deep and so the water came to his chest. Providing a welcome buoyancy. And with the warm water constantly flowing in even as it was draining, the surface remained constant and ruffled.

The first he knew was a basin of water tipped over his head. Even as he gasped for air, he felt sweetsand being rubbed into his hair. She worked efficiently, firm and gentle, until the application of a brush.

He was sorely tempted to tell her to just leave it be, cut it short, but she stopped right at the point when he had had enough .A few basins of water to rinse out the cleanser and more than one knotted mess made its way to the edge to disappear from sight. He was then pushed forward and he felt the roughness of a sponge on his back. Ah, that felt good. Too soon she finished.

She just laughed at his complaints. "I'll sent T'men back in."

Lytah was gone by the time he returned to his room, feeling exhausted by even that simple excursion. There were extra pillows on his bed now, which meant that he could lie more upright, thankfully so. Awake and flat on his back was not something he was looking forward to. Though he was not impressed when Gillian insisted on spoon-feeding him some thick soup. T'men had the good sense to busy himself tidying the table while that was happening, though D'kor's mood was foul by the time she had finished. It took a lot of self-control to hold his temper.

Thankfully T'men didn't seem to mind when he let loose after Gillian had gone. He just sat in the chair by his bed until D'kor finally sank back, drained. "I know it doesn't help to tell you this D'kor, but it is likely to get worse before it gets better. There are a lot of people around who feel that they owe you a lot, want to do anything they can do to get you well again. Just try and let them, at least until you can do it yourself again. Don't underestimate how ill you have been, still are."

"By the egg T'men, why do people think that? I've done nothing special."

"You think? I don't believe N'eth would agree with you there."

"The only reason N'eth was in trouble was because I let him help me, causing him to be in that situation in the first place."

"Fine then. How about working out exactly what was going on, finding that cure, returning it to Jazon, having the foresight to record the information and give it to Lytah, actually find some of the rarer herbs, break into a smuggling ring, release a whole bunch of poor unfortunates without any loss and deal with both Lamrat and Roth personally. Sure, I can see how there was nothing special about that."

"Roth is still out there, S'bor and K'tan are dead, V'hul exiled, I really live up to my responsibilities as wing second by aiding in the plot by delivering messages between Lamrat and V'hul, albeit unknowingly, and you can thank Lytah and her mother Sygull for the cure, I know I do." If Lytah had not had some of her version of that on her when she and the rest of Alpha wing had come for him, then he would not be here. Of that he was certain.

"Who told you all that?" Lytah's question drew his attention. She had just entered his room and he noticed that she had changed into warmer jacket and pants. He wondered where she was headed.

"I have my sources." There was no way he was going to admit to it being from her journal. Ever.

"Then it looks like my father was right, you are good harper material."

He laughed. "I don't think Kilimi would agree with you there."

"So she has said. But don't underestimate what you have achieved, there would not be too many people who could have done what you have done so successfully. But I didn't come here to debate that with you. I might be able to get Natoth to get a decent feed now and wondered if you could persuade Zenth to come with us."

"Zenth?" he asked. It was only now that he realized the dragon was awake.

Now that you are going to be fine I am prepared to leave for a while.

D'kor was surprised that after he passed on Zenth's answer, Lytah headed for Zenth's sleeping area. He turned to T'men. "I thought that she was flying Natoth."

"She is. The only time Natoth has left Zenth's side is to bring him some meat, try and coax him to eat. He's almost as much skin and bone as you are."

It was a while before they returned. Lytah had insisted that the dragons take their time, eat to capacity slowly. D'kor found it hard to imagine that the two of them could fit in the cavern.

"Come on T'men, take his other arm. Zenth would feel better for seeing him anyway." As he would for seeing Zenth, he realized, letting them take his weight across their shoulders.

The travel across might have been awkward, but it was by no means humourless, T'men even managed to get Lytah laughing. And leaning against Zenth's neck, feeling his warmth with the dragon's distinctive scent around him, he felt stronger. Not much, to be sure, but enough to know that he would be fine. Eventually.

Though it was strange to see the smaller green dragon curled up at Zenth's side. He fought the irrational pang of jealously. This might just work in his favour. He wondered if Lytah had noticed just how much affection her dragon was showing his.

By the time he had got back into bed he could feel that the dragons were asleep, stuffed as they were.

Yet there must have been some fellis in the drink Lytah then gave him, he had only just finished it when overcome by a relentless pull to sleep himself.