Klamath clung to his saddle-horn. The deep silence of snow covered him. He should have heard something when Rowt died. Surely, he should have heard something? A shot or two?

He heard nothing.

When Rowt reappeared, he sat slumped in his saddle like a man with a mortal wound. Tears made streaks of ice on his cheeks.

“They—” He seemed to be dying, but he was only exhausted. “They are gone, General. I found trampled snow, a field of it. I saw small flickers of sorcery, but they faded.

“General,” he said like a sob. “We beat them.”

Klamath did not try to understand. He had no use for explanations. Carried out of himself by a tide of relief, he relaxed until he was lying on his back in the snow.

During these days, Queen Estie knew nothing of the war. She remained in her quarters. Occasionally, she had visitors that she refused to see. She had no courage to spare for them. None of them were deaf.

Since the awakening of her gift, she had been imprisoned in an absolute silence. Every sound had been taken from her.

At one time, she had believed that she knew what to expect. She had been warned often enough. She had imagined that she was prepared to bear the cost of her talent. Now she knew the truth. No warning could have readied her. Her loss was as vast as her world, and as intimate as her heart’s blood.

After her awakening, Crayn had supported her back to her rooms. She had been too weak to walk so far on her own. But in those first moments, she had not known how badly she needed his help. Seeing his mouth move, she understood that he was trying to reach her. The soundlessness of his efforts was no surprise. Other shocks were worse. When she realized that she could not hear the gasp of her own breathing, or the faint impact of her sandals on the stone floor, something inside her snapped.

Her noiseless passage through the corridors and halls of the Last Repository insisted that she had ceased to exist in some fundamental way. Cut off from other people, she had lost herself. Despite his support, Crayn was severed from her.

In every way that mattered, her deafness left her effectively dead.

When she reached her chambers, he seated her in the sitting room. Because he offered it, she swallowed a little wine. In the same way, she ate a few pieces of fruit. Telling him that she wanted her bed, she seemed to make no sound.

He helped her into her bedroom, set out a soft robe in the warmth of the fire. After that, as silent as a figment, he had slipped out of the room and closed the door, leaving Queen Estie of Amika terrified.