Chapters (44)
- Cover
- OTHER BOOKS BY STEPHEN R. DONALDSON
- Dedication
- PROLOGUE
- PART ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- PART TWO
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- PART THREE
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- PART FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- What’s next onyour reading list?
Magister Facile had feared a holocaust. A power like the final Decimate.
“That is why I have kept my secret.” Except from the Last Repository. Here every Magister saw it. “I do not know what I might become. And I fear it. Even if my gift is not dangerous in itself, it frightens me. It is like an invisible grenade I carry wherever I go. I cannot defuse it or cast it away.”
She had been told that her secret gave her power. Now she understood that it gave other people power over her.
Yet she needed it. It was part of her. And it might help her persuade the librarian.
Revealing herself made her squirm. It did not trouble the Commander. The sandstone hue of his eye seemed to flinch at nothing. When she fell silent, he gave her a moment. Then he said, “As you say, Majesty.” One corner of his mouth twisted in a wry grin. “It is a dangerous secret. I will keep it.”
Briefly, Estie could not find her voice. Conflicting emotions closed her throat. Crayn’s affirmation reminded her that she had reason to be grateful. But the war had begun. Too soon, bloodshed would sweep across the whole of Belleger. It might claim Amika as well. And she would have given anything to see acceptance like the Commander’s on her husband’s face.
When she could speak again, she said hoarsely, “Thank you, Crayn. My life is in your hands. When Magister Oblique returns, I will want you with me. Until then, you should rest.”
He stood straighter. “If you will do the same, Majesty.”
She sighed. “If I can. My mind is ready to burst. But if I can settle my thoughts, I will rest. We have hours to wait.”
“As you say, Majesty,” he repeated. Unexpectedly, he bowed as if he were Commander Soulcess, full of his own dignity—or of hers. Then he went to his own quarters and closed the door behind him.
Again, Estie was alone. But now she was not unwashed, hungry, and short of time. She had hours ahead of her in which to chew over the bitter gristle of her father’s legacy.
Her question was not: What am I that the library did not expect? It was: What am I that I did not expect?
Unfortunately, she could not answer herself. She needed someone else to tell her.
ELEVEN
OUTCOMES
Eventually, Queen Estie slept in her chair for a time. Later, she looked outside her door and found a fresh tray laden with more fruit, a different wine, new bread, and a steaming bowl of soup. She had no interest in food, but she ate as much as she could. And later still, Magister Oblique returned.