“Before Prince Bifalt came to you, he could have died twice.” Once when a bolt of lightning should have killed him, once when he had absorbed the explosion of a grenade. “You must have saved him then. Why are such feats impossible now?”

That question startled Rummage. He seemed to search his memory for the occasions she meant. Finally, he answered:

—Yes, Queen. That was done. Some among us are called Shields. They wield a power that deflects force at the last instant. Lightning. Gunpowder. But few are born with the gift, and it has no range. It must be used near where it is needed.

His writing became more urgent.

—Understand me, Queen. That was twenty years ago. The Great God’s coming was a distant fear. Only your war with Belleger endangered the Prince. And the Farsighted were watching. We knew well in advance when Belleger would fight again. We sent Shields to hide themselves and ward the Prince.

—King Smegin’s ambush of his quest was more perilous. Again, we knew of the danger. But we did not have much time. Our Shields could not be sure when and where the Prince might be threatened. And then night fell. The Farsighted were blinded. Only the sounds of fighting enabled one Shield to find and protect him.

—Now the Great God has overrun the west of Belleger. What can we ask of our Shields? We cannot simply hope that they will serve some purpose. They will die for nothing.

Impatiently, Queen Estie glanced at Magister Avail. He had picked up the book, but had not opened it. Instead, he studied it the way she would have studied a coiled snake.

She faced the hunchback again. “Then you will do nothing to help the people who die for you? Nothing at all?”

He winced.

—Not yet. We dare not. But the desert is our realm. We know the sands. There, the King’s armies will find resupply. And we will send guides to show them the secret ways among the dunes. Between its western edge and the caravan-track, the Great God will struggle for every step. The sands themselves will defend us.

—Once he discovers the track, however—

Rummage looked away to hide the darkness in his eyes.

—It will serve the Great God well.

With a twitch of one arm, Crayn caught Estie’s attention. His eyes directed her to Magister Avail.

A quick look showed her that the deaf man had opened the book.

She considered speaking to him then, but she was not done with Magister Rummage.

“Yet we are not your only allies, Magister,” she said more harshly. “The el-Algreb are not. You have others.

“Tell me about the Knights of Ardor.”

Magister Rummage bared his teeth in a bitter, soundless laugh.

—They did not come to fight for us. They are on a quest.