“Oh, we do.” Marrow dismissed them. “We do. They are many. But they are also distant. That is the disadvantage of a hidden library. We have called on them. Some have refused. Others cannot come in time. If we do not keep our defenders close, we will be lost.”

Estie was ready to argue. She wanted to ask, What about the devotees of Spirit? But Lylin was present: she could speak for her people. Instead, the Queen suggested, “Perhaps the people who guarded Set Ungabwey’s caravan?” She fumbled for the name, found it. “The el-Algreb? You know them. They will answer your call.”

The librarian sneered. “I do know them, Queen. You do not.” Despite his blindness, his gaze was full of scorn. “They have already refused. We have nothing they want. They are a warlike people, fierce in battle. But they are content as they are. They have no use for us. Master Ungabwey rewarded them with solid coin. We cannot meet their price.”

“No,” insisted Estie. “They will fight when they understand the threat. You will have more allies than you are willing to admit. We have none.”

Crayn nodded his approval. Magister Oblique gave the Queen’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, then lowered her hand.

Magister Marrow replied with a bitter laugh. “Is that my doing, Queen? Is it my fault that Amika and Belleger have spent generations killing each other instead of reaching out to the wider world?”

He might have gone on in that vein, justifying himself. Instead, he changed his tone. “No, Queen.” His effort to sound sympathetic was audible. He could not manage kindliness. “I understand your concern. I share it. But you approach it from the wrong direction. You ask me to take action now. You do not ask what actions I have already taken.”

Queen Estie settled herself to appear receptive. “Then tell me, Magister.”

“I will not,” he began at once, “belabor the loss of Master Ungabwey. He was my friend, Queen. And he could have said that he had done enough. We are safe from the east because he sealed the passes through the Wall Mountains. But I wanted more. I sought his aid for Belleger and Amika.

“At my urging, he risked himself and his people and his wealth to shield your realm and your Bifalt’s from the southern host. Now he is dead. It is not my fault that he failed. It is not his. His efforts could have succeeded. If they had, you would not reproach me. You would sit before me with gratitude in your heart.”

At the edge of her vision, Estie saw the devotee of Spirit shaking her head. Disapproval? A warning? She could not interpret Lylin’s reaction.