The sorceress extended her hand. Her tapping was steadier than Estie’s heartbeat.

—There could be many, Queen. Shall I list them for you? The choice is yours.

Estie stopped her. “First, I must ask you to repeat what you say aloud. I do not wish to exclude my Commander.”

She meant, I need him.

A touch of embarrassment crossed Oblique’s face as she turned to Crayn. She appeared to speak. He appeared to reply.

Meeting Estie’s gaze again, Magister Oblique wrote:

—He thanks you, Queen. I will remember to include him.

Estie managed a smile. Striving for queenliness, she replied, “Accept my gratitude. And forgive my earlier distrust. A visitor or two may do me good.” One at a time, at her own pace. “I would like to see Lylin.”

The devotee’s self-assurance made her an uncomfortable presence. For that very reason, she might remind Estie that Amika’s Queen knew how to rule.

Magister Oblique’s features slipped into a frown.

—The most holy devotee of Spirit has left the Last Repository.

Left? While Rile was on his way? The idea startled Estie. It did not fit her image of Lylin.

To Estie’s stare, Oblique explained, repeating what she said to Crayn as she tapped.

—As you know, Queen, the most holy devotees do not justify themselves. However, I am sure of one thing. They are a vulnerable people. They know that if the Great God is able to destroy the Repository, he will not stop there. The most holy devotee must have gone to defend her people.

Reflexively, Estie objected. “Surely, they can do more good here? They can save their people by saving the Repository.”

The Magister’s answer was a shrug.

—What can I say, Queen? They make their own choices. We do not choose for them.

After a moment, she added:

—They have always done so. When the most holy devotees Amandis and Flamora selected Elgart for their teaching, they did not explain themselves. Yet they chose well. Through him, they transformed the Prince.

Yes, thought Estie. She knew how Elgart had changed her husband. Nevertheless Magister Marrow’s manipulations had exacted a price. They had been worse than cruel. They had made Bifalt a man who could not love her.

Oblique’s inadvertent reminder twisted Estie’s heart. She needed a moment to recover her masque of calm.

Like a woman grasping at a mirage, she sighed, “Well. It seems that I must have a visitor.” Anything to distract her from the way her heart ached. “Do you have a suggestion, Magister?”

The sorceress shook herself. Carefully, she wrote:

—My list is long, Queen. But perhaps it would be well to begin with a more familiar face. Your sub-Commander Waysel is here. The snow slowed him. He did not arrive until this morning.

As she repeated this to Crayn, he came closer. Standing in front of Estie, he nodded vigorously. His mouth shaped a Yes.