“As you say, Majesty.” She heard the concern in his tone, but he did not let the Magisters see any flicker of uncertainty. Calmly, he dismissed the men guarding her door.

They tried to feign dignity as they opened her door, then retreated through her sitting room to their own quarters.

Holding up her head, Queen Estie faced the Magisters. Avail’s ire grew, a grenade with a burning fuse. Rummage’s black glower may have been meant as a threat, but she ignored it.

Trying for assurance, she said, “I regret my tardiness. I did not know that you would come so soon”—or why they would come. “You are welcome now. I believe there is wine. If you want more, we can summon it.”

Followed closely by the Commander, she preceded her visitors into her sitting room.

She was as frightened as her guardsmen had been. She wanted to hasten into her bedroom, no, into her bathing chamber. There she could shut the door and take the time to compose herself. But Amika’s Queen could not afford to show fear now. While Crayn moved to his place in the background, she seated herself in a chair facing the outer door. With a gesture, she invited the Magisters to share the remains of her meal and the flask of wine.

They did not enter. Magister Avail stood in the doorway, glaring at her as if the sight infuriated him. Magister Rummage held his deaf companion’s hand.

“I saw your fear, Queen,” Avail snarled. “You have your answer. If you want to know more—if you are such a fool—I will not come to you again. You must come to me.”

He started to turn away. Then he whirled back as if he meant to fling himself at her. His fury filled the doorway.

“You do not know the pain you cause. You should not have brought your demands to me. Your father was a vile man. It was his place to prepare you, not mine. I have suffered enough. I do not deserve this burden.

“But the crime is his, not yours. I will say this. Turn your back on sorcery. It is not a gift. It is living death! To be so cut off from the world, every voice, every sound, isolated from even the simplest exchanges, unable to comprehend anything unless some kind friend shares it by touch—! That is terrible. Your doom will be worse. You will be cut off from yourself.”

Abruptly, he stopped. Instead, he cried into the silence of Estie’s mind, It is a curse, Queen! Refuse it!

An instant later, he was gone, taking Magister Rummage with him.