“They issue in great numbers from the mountains. The King opposes them there. He may have imagined that a small force with rifles would hold against foes with javelins and blades. But the tactics of the invaders are strange. They avoid open battle. Instead, they appear to rely on an indirect form of theurgy. The Farsighted cannot interpret it. But they see the King’s men fall. Some die. Many cannot ride or fight. The others retreat toward the Open Hand.

“The King has sent reinforcements,” concluded Magister Oblique. “They are too few to halt the invaders.”

Estie bowed her head to hide her face. Bifalt had hoped to defend Belleger against only the host from the bay, but he had braced himself for the possibility that he might have to fight on two fronts. He had not known that he had an enemy in the north until Magister Avail warned him.

What would he do? What could he do, except fail and die?

And Queen Estie could not help him. Coming here, she had made herself useless.

No, she thought grimly. No. Not yet.

Bifalt would fight until he died. She could not do less. There were many ways to fail. She was only useless if she did not make every attempt.

“So,” she said abruptly. “The King is threatened on three sides—and he is alone. He needs aid.” She felt as fierce as a snarl. “He must have the Repository’s aid. The librarian must send Magisters to fight. He must. If he does not, he will answer for it.

“But Bifalt needs me as well. I am Amika’s Queen, his ally in war and life. I am the question you must answer, Magister.

“What am I? What did you expect me to be? What am I that you did not expect?”

Tell me what I can become.

If she had glanced at Commander Crayn at that moment, she would have seen bright approval in his eyes.

Magister Oblique flinched. She must have anticipated Estie’s demand, should have been ready for it; yet it stung her. For an instant, she started to rise as if she meant to leave.

Almost immediately, however, she calmed herself. One by one, she relaxed her muscles. Breathing deeply, she faced what Amika’s monarch wanted from her.

“Forgive me, Queen.” Her voice shook a little. “You startled me. I was not prepared to hear so grave a question so soon. I promised that I would answer your queries if I can. Some I cannot because they are not mine to answer. Others I must not because—” She hesitated, then rushed ahead. “Because you are not ready to know. You will not be ready until you have spoken with Magister Marrow. Then you will need to think long and hard before you ask such a question again.”

“Ha!” snapped the Queen as if she were pouncing. “Is this your welcome, Magister? Your kindness? I will have an answer.”