A troubled quiet gripped the workroom. Men and women groped to comprehend this evidence of their peril. But Magister Oblique set her own reaction aside almost immediately. Resting one hand on Estie’s shoulder, she declared unexpectedly, loudly, “Magister Sirjane Marrow, librarian and guardian of the Last Repository, I present Estie daughter of Rubia, Queen of Amika and Queen-Consort to King Bifalt of Belleger. Her reasons for coming to us are urgent. The time has come to hear them.”

Estie jerked up her head, taken aback by Oblique’s intervention. But she was also grateful for it. As an untried girl, her father’s favorite, Princess Estie had regarded her mother with disdain. Now she knew better. As Amika’s monarch, she was proud to be recognized as Queen Rubia’s daughter.

The librarian let out a sound like a strangled shout. “I know they are urgent, Oblique. I am only blind, not demented.” Then he made an effort to compose himself. “The Queen of Amika,” he said sourly. “The admirable Queen. Unheard-of in Amika.” He shook his head like a man trying to clear it after a heavy blow. “I will hear you.

“But first I must introduce Magister Threnody.” He gestured at the black-haired woman near him. “She will be my successor. Before I die, I will tell her everything that the sorcery of her transformation cannot provide. She will know what I have done, and why, and what must come next.”

The small Magister’s only reaction was a subtle wince. She bowed stiffly. Then she left the front of the room and went to efface herself in the nearest corner.

Before Sirjane Marrow could go on, Queen Estie replied. He had given her a chance to rally. Now she felt primed for confrontation, as ready as she had been to face her insane father.

Sweetly, she asked, “Do you expect to die, librarian?”

“Of course!” snorted the tall man. “So should you. Every life ends. And I am older than you know. But I will not end yet. Not until my work is done.”

“Then, Magister,” continued Estie as if she were offering him a cup of tea, “you must act while you can. Finish your work. Send aid to King Bifalt. I have heard Magister Oblique’s tidings of the war. Belleger and Amika cannot stand against three hosts in Rile’s service. You must send out your Magisters. You must send them now. Nothing less can save us.

“Nothing less can save the Repository.”

“Send out—?” He gaped at her in mock surprise. “No! Who else will defend us when the war comes here?”

“You are the Last Repository.” Queen Estie allowed herself a little sharpness. “The greatest storehouse of knowledge in the world we know. Surely, you have allies.”