“What better purpose could there be? This is the world’s last treasure-house of knowledge. There are books here, Queen, that no longer exist on any other continent. If we were not threatened—if we were not always threatened—our wealth could have filled this world with wonders.”

Estie swore under her breath. She wanted to scald the old man’s flesh. But she could not. To her cost, she understood that he was sincere despite his anger and sarcasm. He believed that knowledge was more important than lives.

Searching for self-control, she scanned the room.

Crayn’s anger was plain on his face. The same ire flushed Magister Oblique’s cheeks, tightened her breathing. Lylin’s expression was unreadable. Magister Rummage had raised his head. He seemed to be sniffing the air. The shaman followed his example. Instinctively, Estie did as well. She smelled Crayn’s cleanliness, and the devotee’s. Other individuals nearby had not bathed recently. Two unfamiliar theurgists left the workroom in a flurry of disapproval. The servant in blue whispered something to his companion. When the other servant nodded, the youngish man left the room.

Perhaps unnecessarily, the librarian remarked, “Earlier, I asked Tak Biondi to bring wine. He will do so now. I knew that nothing would be accomplished here.” His tone was as harsh as grot. “When he returns, Amika’s monarch and I will drink to celebrate our disagreements.”

That gibe was too much for Queen Estie. She had tried to regain command of her emotions. Suddenly, she did not care to restrain herself.

Still standing, still trembling, she asked with every ounce of her father’s venom, “If you will not aid people who fight in your cause, sir, what do you expect them to do?”

“Do?” retorted Sirjane Marrow fiercely. “Do? I expect them to die. Let them pile their bodies against Rile’s advance. What choice do they have?”

He was intolerable. His every sentence was more than Estie knew how to endure. At one time, she had confronted her father, who had ordered his own wounded killed after every battle. This was worse.

A scream gathered in her chest. She meant to release it. For Amika and Belleger and her husband, she wanted to unleash everything that was in her.

But she did not have time.

At that instant, the librarian’s desk exploded. Terrible forces ripped the table apart, and him. The people near him were tossed aside. All of the workroom’s windows shattered.

The last sound Queen Estie heard before the blast took her was Magister Threnody’s shriek.

Seconds or hours later, Estie found that she could not breathe. Her hearing was gone as well. Silence formed a cocoon around her. But that was nothing. She needed air.

A heavy weight had fallen on her. It was crushing her to the floor. She did not have the strength to shift it.