—Why would Magister Marrow do such a thing?

Estie ignored everything else. Controlling herself, she faced the librarian. Pitching her voice to carry over the tumult, she said, “I did not know Magister Marrow. I cannot know his mind. But I know that he needed these two men”—the sorcerer of communication and the man of violence. “Perhaps he believed that they needed each other. Perhaps he believed that their isolation would bond them. He was arrogant enough to make his decisions without consulting the people they affected.

“You see the outcome.”

Intentional or not, that bond was obvious now.

Beatrix Threnody’s distress was obvious as well. For her doubts, Estie had no answer. But Threnody’s pleading took a different form. Oblique translated it.

—What can I do, Queen? I am not Magister Marrow. Tell me what to do.

Estie did not hesitate. “Make copies of Karsolsky’s book. Many copies. Share them everywhere.”

If enough people learned Karsolsky’s System, it might ease the deaf man’s isolation, and the mute’s.

It might make hers easier to bear. It might count as amends.

The librarian promised:

—We will. We will begin at once.

Their exchange silenced the workroom. Estie saw the change. Magister Bleak seemed to hold his breath. Sword Eradimnie stood motionless. The Queen was able to continue more quietly.

“Where Tak Biondi is concerned, librarian, no one is at fault.” She meant, You are not. “His sorcery concealed his lies. There is nothing that anyone could have done to expose him. He revealed himself to me only because I distracted him.

“Now,” she concluded before anyone could interrupt her, “summon a healer.” She gave orders as if she had the right. “If there is nothing else we can do for them today, a healer will help them sleep.”

Even an ungifted Amikan physician could provide herbs that imposed slumber.

With a gesture, Magister Threnody sent a Magister to obey. She tried to summon a smile for Estie, but it was a twisted thing, distorted by remorse and uncertainty.

The Queen might have felt sorry for her; but her heart was elsewhere. With as much care as she could muster, she focused her voice on Rummage and Avail.

You are not alone. I did not understand before. Now I do. I will do whatever I can.

Then she sagged against Oblique. Drained by shock and turmoil, she was suddenly tired. If Crayn had been with her, she would have asked him to take her to her quarters. Instead, she allowed herself to rely on Magister Oblique’s support.

Eventually, she would have to come to terms with Tak Biondi’s death. She would have to face the dread that had caused her to reject Magister Avail’s help. If she could, she would do something to relieve him and Magister Rummage.

But not now. She had reached the limit of what she could endure.