Dragongirl by Todd McCaffrey

to allow our weyrlings time to mature.”
    “So she’ll rise any day now,” Vikka said with a knowing nod.
    “And then what?” Shaneese demanded. The other women in the room looked at her with various displays of anger or irritation but she brushed them off, continuing, “The sickness, has a cure been found?”
    Fiona shook her head.
    “So how long before your dragons start coughing?” Shaneese persisted. “How long before they die?” Her gaze bore into Fiona as she added, “Will your queen even last long enough to clutch?”
    “Shaneese!” Vikka exclaimed, bearing down angrily on the smaller woman. To Fiona she said, “You must forgive her, Weyrwoman, she so loved her L’rat.”
    “There’s no forgiveness necessary,” Fiona said, forcing herself to remain calm despite the black-haired woman’s onslaught. She glanced at Shaneese. “Kindan and Lorana at Benden Weyr have been working on a cure.”
    “Lorana?” Shaneese repeated. “The one who lost her queen?” She snorted in derision. “Why should she want to help others?”
    “Kindan lost Koriana and still he found a cure during the Plague,” Vikka replied. She glanced back to Fiona in dawning recognition. “You’re Koriana’s sister, aren’t you?”
    “I am,” Fiona said, forcing herself to speak over the lump in her throat. “So I know something of Kindan and I tell you, he won’t let us down.”
    Something changed in Shaneese’s manner as she absorbed this. “I see,” she said. “Well, I hope he’s quick because I’m not sure I can handle another dragon dying.”
    “Where can I find the headwoman?” Fiona asked, deciding that she had said enough here and it was time to continue her tour.
    “That’d be me,” Shaneese said. “At least it was until this morning.”
    “If you want to step down, I understand,” Fiona said, recovering quickly from her surprise. She glanced over to Tevora. “When I go to the Smithcrafthall, I can bring you, if you’d like.”
    Tevora glanced up nervously, then shook her head. “They probably think I’m dead.”
    A mousy-haired woman reached over and patted her on the shoulder. “You are good with metal, Tevora, we could certainly use you here.”
    “Dedelia, keep an eye on her,” Shaneese said to the mousy-haired woman. She glanced around the room and started calling out names. “Go help in the kitchen.”
    To Fiona she said, “Come on, Weyrwoman.” As she bustled out, she glanced over her shoulder and said to Dedelia, “And get them back to work, there’s clothes to be washed and mended, not to mention the weaving that’s been let go this morning.”
    “A nd, finally, here’s the medicinal storeroom,” Shaneese said as she completed their tour of the first level of the Weyr. She glanced inside and nodded to herself as she spotted two women working, bent over jars and measuring sets. “The stocks are complete, we want for nothing.”
    “We want for nothing” seemed to be a catchphrase for Shaneese and Telgar Weyr. Fiona was amazed at the amount of goods amassed in the storage rooms, at the quality of fabrics, hides, and metals that were on hand for the Weyr’s use.
    “Say what you want about D’gan, he never let the Weyr be shorted,” Shaneese said as she took in Fiona’s expression. She called to the two women, “This is Fiona, she’s the new Weyrwoman.”
    “If a small girl comes running in here all out of breath asking for any herbals or medicinals, give them to her,” Fiona told the two older women. One of them gave her a surprised look. “Her name’s Bekka and she doesn’t sleep. Her father is Seban, who until recently rode blue Serth. She’s agreed to come here as healer in training.”
    “Healer in training?” Shaneese looked at Fiona in surprise. “She’ll either learn quick or we’ll all be for it.”
    “She doesn’t sleep,” Fiona repeated with a smile. “She reads, she’ll learn.”
    “How many Turns has she, then?” Shaneese asked.
    “She has