“Now she has left you to me. I will not answer your question”—she tightened her grip on herself—“because the answer is not mine to give. You should hear who and what you are from someone who knows. My gift is mere insight. I have not lived with your gift. I cannot describe the power and the cost of what you will inherit.”

Estie had to swallow hard to hold down her bitterness. She might have spat bile if Magister Facile had not told her something similar. A talent should be awakened by a sorcerer who shared the same gift. There were too many dangers to consider. On that point, the Queen could not accuse Oblique of dishonesty.

But her denied heart needed an outlet. Barely able to rule herself, she asked, “Will you tell me nothing?”

“Queen!” The Magister spoke as if she were flinching. “I have told you that you will not be denied. How have I failed to convince you? But the choice you demand is not easily made. And it is not my choice. It belongs to the Magister who shares your gift. I cannot say when you will be answered. I can only promise that you will not be kept in ignorance.”

Estie did not know what to say. These refusals and delays seemed intolerable. She held the woman’s gaze for a moment longer. Then she looked away. Choking down the congestion in her throat, she asked, “And until then? What must I do while I wait?”

Magister Oblique’s sigh sounded like relief. “Of course, Queen, we still hope for your aid in the search for our traitor. But Magister Threnody may require hours or days to search her memories. While you wait, you have the freedom of the Repository. Go wherever you wish. If nothing occurs to you, let me suggest a visit to the library itself. Our books are the prize which the Great God seeks to destroy. It may ease you to know what is at stake.”

Again, Queen Estie was expected to put herself aside. What choice did she have? Over her shoulder, she asked, “Commander?”

“I have slept for some time, Majesty,” answered Crayn without hesitation. “Walking will do me good.” His tone assured her that he was alert to the undercurrents in her query.

Estie nodded. “Thank you, Magister,” she replied thinly. “Like my Commander, I have slept too long.” And spent far too long waiting passively while crises mounted beyond her reach. “I will take your advice.”

The sorceress mustered a smile. “Then, Queen, I will send someone to guide you.” She rose from her chair. “With your consent, I will leave you now. I,” she admitted, “have not slept enough.”

“Of course, Magister,” replied Estie. But before Magister Oblique reached the door, the Queen spoke again. “I will not wait long. My own need is imperative.”

“I understand, Queen,” said Oblique ruefully. “You have made that plain.”

With that, Estie had to be satisfied.