Oblique went everywhere, pausing to talk with everyone she found, spreading news and solace. To the students and scribes, the cooks and scullions and chambermaids, the healers and apprentices, she listened patiently. In return, she offered them whatever they seemed to need: simple explanations, broader assurances, reasons for hope.

This was a side of Magister Oblique that Estie had not seen before. She spent long hours at the woman’s side, hoping that her mute presence would aid Oblique’s efforts. For herself, she had only one pertinent question. She asked it early.

What of the seventh Decimate, the power to render sorcerers impotent over astonishing distances? Could it be turned against Rile himself? If not, could it be used to counter the Shields of the priests? Then they would be vulnerable to bullets and blades and blunt fists, more vulnerable than infantrymen. Losing their support might cripple the Great God.

Still unfamiliar with Lamit Karsolsky’s System, Magister Oblique tapped her answer on the Queen’s forearm.

—Every Decimate has its own limits. To affect any individual sorcerer, or any small group, the wielder of the seventh Decimate must stand near its target. Spread farther, the Decimate effaces all sorcery. And it endures until it is dismissed. It may be able to overcome the Great God’s coercion, but it will render us powerless.

—If the struggle is reduced to mundane violence, we are lost. The walls will hold. The gates will fail. Without our Decimates, we cannot withstand the Great God.

Thinking of Klamath’s peril and Waysel’s forlorn death, the Queen asked, “Will Magister Rummage commit any of your sorcerers to help the General? The Magisters he brought with him are now in the Repository.”

The sorceress looked abashed.

—Forgive me, Queen. I thought that you were informed. I believed that they acted at your command.

—They have gone out into the snow, all of them. A servant led them. They intended to reach the lower plateau ahead of the enemy. From there, they planned to disperse across the foothills. They mean to fight for the General when the time comes.

—It is brave and foolish of them. But they are Bellegerin and Amikan. They refuse to forsake their own people.

An unexpected wave of relief and pride washed over Estie. She rubbed her eyes to hide their burning. “Then they have done well. When I can, I will honor them.”

Magister Oblique replied:

—They deserve no less. All of your people, and King Bifalt’s as well.

Wearing the twisted expression of a woman who felt too many conflicting emotions, she continued on her way.

For a few moments, the Queen was silent. She had wasted too much hope on the seventh Decimate. Now she had to pin all of her yearning on trail-worn men and women who had fought their way across the whole of Belleger and yet refused to accept the Repository’s sanctuary.