“Forgive me, Queen,” put in Oblique. “I must also introduce Magister Bleak. As one of the Farsighted, he speaks for them.”

Estie nodded. At once, she found that she had many questions for the man. But she schooled herself to wait. Her own situation was fraught: she could not begin by demanding answers.

In a subtle effort to take command of the situation, she seated herself. From the tray, she took a cluster of grapes—and immediately realized that she was hungry. For the sake of her dignity, she forced herself to eat slowly.

With the exception of Magister Bleak, her visitors returned to their chairs. “Queen,” he began at once, “I have no tidings for you. I came to express the regret of the Farsighted.

“We have failed the Last Repository.” His tone resembled a lament. “If any of us had turned our attention closer, perhaps to the librarian’s workroom, we might have seen who planned his death. Then we could have prevented it. But the need for that particular vigilance did not occur to us.”

In an angrier tune, he explained, “We hope to make amends. For your sake, and the Repository’s, we will attempt to stitch our separate visions into whole cloth. If we succeed, we will be able to relate the movements of the war as they occur. Ideally, all of them. You will know the fate of Belleger”—for an instant, his gaze focused on the Queen as if he recognized her questions—“and Amika. We will see the nature of the Great God’s forces and estimate when they will strike.

“Now I will join my kind. When we have something to report, I will speak again.”

He gave the librarian a curt bow. To Magister Oblique, he nodded. Ignoring Lylin and Third Father, he went to the door, jerked it open, and left before Estie could gather her thoughts.

Into whole cloth? The benefits were obvious. But she wanted answers now.

By the scent of the flask, she knew that it held wine, not water. A little wine might improve her composure. She poured herself a goblet of the ruby liquid, took a small sip, then forgot what she had in her hands.

“Well,” she said to her visitors, “that was abrupt.” She was only a guest here, but she was still Amika’s Queen. Deliberately, she played the part. “He should not blame himself. Treachery is difficult to foresee. That is its nature.”

Without pausing, she addressed Magister Oblique. “I am told that you need me. How can I serve you?”

Oblique glanced at Magister Threnody, mutely asking the librarian’s consent to speak. When the small woman nodded, Magister Oblique answered Estie.