To encourage him, she seated herself.

Frowning, Travail nodded. Unsteadily, he moved to a chair across the low table from the Queen and lowered himself into it.

“Apprentice,” began Estie, “Magister Facile was on her way to you when her end found her. She did not know that you would live. The thought that you might die without her was too much to bear.

“For her death, I have my own grief—and my own anger. The Great God Rile caused her death. If I had the power, he would answer for that crime.”

He lowered his gaze. “Perhaps, Queen.” He stilled his hands by clasping them together. “But I have no use for anger. I am content with sorrow.”

Estie wanted to ask, Then why are you here? What can you offer that will ease me? But he deserved better courtesy.

“What you have endured humbles me,” she said carefully. “I cannot imagine the extremity of your sorrow.”

Sighing, he replied, “Facile made it possible. I clung to the one voice I loved most. Without it—” He shrugged as if something deep inside him had failed. “Other voices intrude. Even now, I find it hard to keep them out.” He showed Estie a sad smile. “But Magister Avail comforts me. We were kinfolk of a kind, the three of us, the man who cannot hear, the man who hears too much, and the woman who could only speak. Without her—” He spread his hands. “His voice helps me sleep.

“It is not always a shout, Queen. It can be a caress. And it fills my mind until I am able to rest. Every night—”

He stopped as if he had said enough. After a moment, he explained, “I am here to speak of him, Queen. And for him.”

Startled, Estie asked too sharply, “Of Magister Avail?” She had not forgotten his attempt to comfort Facile with news of Travail’s recovery. “Then do so, Apprentice.”

Travail met her gaze. “His manner is difficult. No one can say otherwise. It is a consequence of his deafness. His isolation galls him. How can he suffer his loneliness if he does not rail against it? But he knows himself. He knew he would botch—” Again, he smiled sadly. “I like that word. Botch. He knew that he would botch speaking with you. He told me as much.

“I came to say what he cannot.”

Wondering, Estie inquired, “Which is?”

The Apprentice held her gaze.

“Magister Avail has a heart. Magister Marrow did not. He could not afford it. But Magister Avail does. Your plight appalls him. He is furious that you of all women, the Queen of Amika, are afflicted with his gift. His heart is speaking when he urges you to refuse it.

“Nevertheless he knows what he can do. He knows that what you can do may be needed before the end.”