Chapters (44)
- Cover
- OTHER BOOKS BY STEPHEN R. DONALDSON
- Dedication
- PROLOGUE
- PART ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- PART TWO
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- PART THREE
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- PART FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- What’s next onyour reading list?
With care that resembled tenderness, he helped her mount the step-stool into her carriage. Then he hurried away.
She was alone with the smell of blood on her hands and riding breeches until Third Father joined her. He had taken the time to wash his hands and splash water on his stained cassock. Saying only “Queen,” he seated himself in a corner, bowed his head, and settled into his familiar silence.
She hardly noticed him. The beating of wings claimed her attention. It may have been the labor of her heart.
She believed that she had enough grief to occupy her. But when the carriage had been rolling eastward for an hour or two, guarded by her escort and trailed by the wagon of supplies, she learned that she was wrong. An unfamiliar voice spoke in her mind.
Where is Magister Facile? Is she dead? I cannot find her.
Its silent force jolted her. She had never heard it before, but she recognized it from her husband’s description of his summons to the Repository long ago.
Magister Avail.
The monk must not have heard the same demand. Wrapped in his meditative stillness, he did not react to her sudden flinch, her instant tension.
You will try to answer, Queen, continued the voice. Do not. Each word was distinct, yet as soundless as her own thoughts. I cannot hear you.
If Magister Facile is unconscious—if drink or disease or violence have closed her mind—tell her when she wakes. Apprentice Travail lives. His death has been set aside. He will recover.
That was all. Magister Avail did not address her again. She could not call him back.
The old sorceress had accompanied the Queen on her journey in the hope that she would get one last chance to see her long-ago lover. If she had lived to hear them, Avail’s tidings would have eased her bitterness. Speaking to Travail might have lifted some of her anger and resentment. Now he was alive and she was gone.
The cruelty of that mischance might have made another woman weep. Queen Estie did not. Long ago, her husband’s father, King Abbator, had asked her to serve as a witness. Now there was nothing that she could do except witness. The Great God had done this. He would do more, and worse. The bloodshed he caused when he came would make what Magister Facile and Apprentice Travail had lost seem trivial.
That prospect did not soften Estie’s eyes. It made them feel as hard as stones.