The Magister paused before replying. “It is not a question of allowed, Queen. The offer is not mine to make. First, you must hear Magister Marrow—and take time to think. Then, if you insist, you will be answered. I will see to it.” Then she added, “But you must be sure of what you do. We will not impose our choices on you.”

Queen Estie nodded. “Thank you, Magister.” But still she was not swayed. The Magisters who had dealt with Prince Bifalt would probably claim they had not imposed their choices on him. Instead, they had mistreated and misled him until he made the choices they wanted.

To reach the level of the librarian’s workroom, Magister Oblique led the Queen and Commander Crayn up one long stairway after another until Estie felt sure that she was high above the Repository’s gates and perhaps even the outer balcony. Then they reached a hall with a doorless entryway halfway down one side. She heard the murmur of voices. The scattered sound of people talking grew louder as she approached.

“Our destination, Queen,” said Oblique softly. “I will name some of the people there for you. But we will not spend time on formal introductions. Magister Marrow is always impatient. He says—” Her brief smile resembled a grimace. “He says that he has wasps buzzing in his head. His temper worsens by the day. We can exchange courtesies later.”

Estie nodded without listening. From her first glimpse, she was studying the workroom.

As she entered, an instant silence fell.

It was a large space as long as the hall outside and half as wide. Opposite the entryway, high clerestory windows admitted the gloom of the cloud-studded sky. There were no cressets, lamps, or candles to provide illumination the blind librarian did not need. But she could see well enough by the light of other windows off to one side. She guessed that they faced west: otherwise, the view would have included mountains. Then a flash of sunlight low in the heavens confirmed her surmise. It was brief. Clouds in clumps passed across the sun like shutters opening and closing. But that first flash promised that sunset was an hour or two away.

The assembly did not fill the chamber. It could have held twice that number. But they were too many for Estie. She did not want an audience: she wanted the librarian’s full attention.

The people were diverse. Perhaps half of them wore the grey robes of Magisters. Queen Estie recognized Magister Rummage glowering at her from under the clerestories. In the farthest corner, Magister Avail stood with both hands covering his face. A monk at his side touched his forearm to communicate whatever was said. In a corner opposite Avail’s, Lylin’s white robe was unmistakable. It seemed to gather all the light around her. She was accompanied by another monk, a young woman. Despite her humble posture, the monk and the devotee of Spirit conveyed the impression that they had been chatting like old friends.