She did not know the time of day. He might be asleep. But his answer came at once. I hear you, Queen. He may have been waiting for her voice. What troubles you? I would like to see your face while we talk. May I come to you?

No! she protested. Then, more quietly: No. I am not ready.

She sensed a sigh. I am a Magister of the Last Repository, Queen. I am not accustomed to pleading for permission. Sadness leaked through his asperity. But the librarian insists. I will abide by your wishes.

How can I help you?

Carefully, Estie asked, Will you answer a question, Magister?

If I can, he snapped.

If you cannot, she mused, no one can. Does this become easier? This silence? This. Complete. Isolation?

No, he retorted. After a pause, he added, And yes.

At first, no. Nothing can prepare you for it. It is unnatural. The people around you may think that they understand. They do not. The loss of sound never fades. Nothing can draw the fangs of that snake.

But later— He paused again. In my case, Queen, Magister Rummage taught me the language of touch. After the horror of my awakening, that was my first taste of connection. Of being included.

Here, Queen, I am surrounded by people who wish to speak with me. They do not suffice. Taken together, however, they are enough. My loss is softened by my service. I am needed, Queen, needed in a good cause. No one doubts my worth.

Estie wanted to ask, Will that be true for me? I have nothing to offer. I am only the Queen of Amika. How can I bear my loss if no one needs me?

But she could not say that to Magister Avail. It sounded too much like self-pity. Of course, he would understand. He had never stopped pitying himself. But she did not want bitterness. She wanted an answer.

Hours later, or perhaps the next day, Queen Estie received Magister Oblique and Magister Threnody in her sitting room.

Estie wanted to believe that she was ready. She had eaten and slept, and the time that she had spent alone with Commander Crayn had steadied her. Her hands no longer trembled. But those signs of recovered strength were superficial. Her heart seemed to shudder at every breath. She greeted Oblique and Beatrix Threnody from behind a façade of calm.

Magister Oblique’s manner was earnest. She seemed hopeful, almost expectant, as she ushered the librarian to a seat opposite the Queen. After an inaudible exchange with Crayn, she took a chair beside Estie. Her smile hinted at an emotion that might have been eagerness. On Estie’s forearm, she tapped:

—Be calm, Queen. I am only here to reassure you.

Estie nodded vaguely. Her attention was fixed on the librarian.