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When K'tan approached M'tal and Salina at dinner that evening, M'tal gave
Salina
a worried look.
"Salina, may I talk with you?" K'tan asked, his eyes pleading, his face pale.
"It's about Drith."
Salina responded with a weary smile and a small shake of her head. Really,
she
was getting used to this, although she hadn't expected K'tan to be the next
dragonrider to ask to speak to her alone.
M'tal leaned back in his chair, reflectively fingering a glass of wine on the
table. Salina rose from her chair and gave him a peck on the cheek before
following the Weyr healer out of the Living Cavern.
"How long has it been?" she asked K'tan as soon as they were out of earshot.
"Over two sevendays," he replied grimly, his face lined with the pain of so
many
burdens piled on top of each other-the dying, Lorana, and now his own
dragon's
sickness. "I keep telling myself that the next potion, the next herbal
infusion
will turn the tide but-"
Salina laid a hand gently on his arm. K'tan took a shuddering breath.
"I must go check on Lorana," he said finally, ducking away from Salina's
gaze.
He turned back, eyes puzzled, and told her, "I see her body shudder every time
a
dragon goes between, but she makes no sound."
"I know," Salina replied softly. "I think she feels every dragon's death."
She
looked up at him. "You must know something of how she feels, for all your
years
healing."
"Is it terribly lonely, losing your dragon?" K'tan asked, fighting to keep
his
voice steady.
"It's the worst feeling there is," Salina told him honestly. She grabbed him
and
hugged him tight. "But as long as you have people to live for . . ."
Overwhelmed by her words and enveloped in her comforting embrace, K'tan's
composure broke in one soft, heart-torn sob. Clumsily he pushed himself away.
"I'll be all right," he declared. "Thank you."
"I'm sure you will be," Salina agreed, accepting his lie.
K'tan turned quickly, saying, "I must check on Lorana."
"Give her my love," Salina called as the healer strode off deliberately.
By the time K'tan arrived in Lorana's quarters, he had his emotions back
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under
control. After all, he chided himself, he had had Turns of consoling the
bereaved, of keeping quiet watch as sick and injured slipped away forever; he
should be used to this. And he owed it to his patients and weyrmates. Those
who
were suffering deserved no less than the best he could give them.
He heard a voice from inside Lorana's quarters and quickened his pace,
arriving
breathless. Perhaps-
"What are you doing here?" he demanded abruptly, spotting the Weyrwoman as he
entered Lorana's quarters.
"My duty as Weyrwoman," Tullea snapped, her cheeks flushing. She stood up
from
Lorana's bedside, hands clenched by her side. Her features tightened severely
as
her anger grew.
"Let me relieve you, then," K'tan said crisply.
Tullea glared at him through narrowed eyes, then spun on her heels and was
out
of the room before K'tan could react.
He couldn't, for a moment, imagine that Tullea was watching Lorana out of any
concern or compassion for the dragonless woman. He knelt beside Lorana, took
her
pulse, and checked her temperature and breathing, assuring himself that she
hadn't suffered from Tullea's attentions.
K'tan searched the room for a chair, found it, dragged it up beside Lorana's
bed, and sat in it, leaning back and stretching out his legs in readiness for
a
long, patient wait. The room smelled of fresh high-bloom flowers. Had Tullea
brought them? Probably Salina, K'tan decided.
As long as you have people to live for. Salina's words echoed sourly in his
memory. Who did Lorana have to live for? Her family was gone, she was new at
the
Weyr, and Tullea, the senior Weyrwoman, clearly had no love for her.
Kindan? The harper was certainly a possibility, K'tan decided, although his
blunder in singing "Wind Blossom's Song" may have soured Lorana on him.
The dragons? K'tan snorted his opinion of that prospect. While he got the
impression that Lorana was more in tune with the dragons than anyone he'd
heard
of, even in the Ballads, he couldn't see them, dying in such droves,
providing
her with a reason for living.
And what of me? K'tan asked himself.
You will stay, Drith told him groggily. Even in the distance, K'tan could
pick
out the Drith's raspy cough from all the others. You will stay, she will
stay.
You must. Both of you.
K'tan was surprised at his dragon's fierce tone.
The answer is here, Drith continued. You and Lorana must find it. K'tan
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