Briefly, Klamath imagined using the Magisters of earthquake to shatter the whole lower plateau. They could send tons of rock tumbling down on Rile’s forces. But then he remembered the Bay of Lights. Rile also had earthquake-wielders. They could dismiss whatever Magister Astride and her comrades attempted.

And Klamath had one more concern. His Magisters lacked the stamina that Rile’s sorcerers had displayed in the bay. They would have to rest as often as they struck.

“General Klamath?” insisted Captain Rowt. “They have come to fight for us. They need orders.”

Still spinning with ideas, Klamath shoved the weight of snow off his shoulders, forced his stiff muscles to lift him upright. Awkwardly, as if he had forgotten words, he said, “Thank you, Captain. That is welcome news.” He peered around at the falling snow. “Where are they?”

The young man gestured vaguely uphill. “I kept them together, sir. In a gully where they will not be seen.”

“Good, Captain.” The General felt an unfamiliar flush of confidence. “We must decide where they can serve best.” After a moment, he remembered to add, “And we must contrive to feed them. I cannot predict this storm. It may endure for days.”

“There is no need, sir,” answered Rowt. “They brought food. And they were advised before they left. The Repository expects the skies to clear at sunrise.”

Good! thought Klamath fervently. “Then it is not too soon to guide them to their places. We must be ready.”

He expected a bloody defeat. Against Rile’s forces? Hells, he expected to die himself. But with his own men and so many Magisters, he could make the enemy pay for the privilege of killing him.

For two days, the storm seemed endless. But the weather-wise among the theurgists sensed that it would pass before dawn. The sun would rise over the Wall Mountains into clear skies.

Summoned by Magister Avail, a crowd gathered in the librarian’s workroom, where her windows looked out over the wide balcony that served as the keep’s battlements. From the balcony, the lower plateau was visible beyond the edge of the Repository’s porch. Beyond it, nothing was certain.

Queen Estie was there with Commander Crayn. A number of Magisters had answered Avail’s call. Escorted by Fifth Daughter, Third Father had come as well. Estie saw none of the Farsighted. No doubt, they could watch as much as they dared wherever they were. But Apprentice Travail was present, looking wan. Apparently, he expected Magister Avail to need him.

The chamber was Beatrix Threnody’s, but she stood apart from the gathering, making room for people who might have more to contribute than a mere librarian. Closer to the windows, the space was dominated by the clenched fuming and bared teeth of Magister Rummage.