Bayaz frowned harder. “No.”

“A cannon,” said Shivers.

“A cannon!” It was hard to walk back towards the magus. Like walking into a great wind. But Rikke made herself swan carefree across the snow, leaving a new track of footprints in the white. “Like the ones my good friend Savine dan Brock, who gave me these lovely emeralds, turns out by the dozen in her new foundry in Ostenhorm. So I know not whence the stones came, either, but I know what broke that one. In this matter, at least, it looks like I’m as wise as you. There was a time of stones before you. And there will be a time of cannons after. And the time before was, and the time after will be, so vasty and so deep that the age of your mastery will seem like the snapping of a child’s fingers.” And she snapped hers in Bayaz’s face. Click.

His eye gave the slightest twitch of annoyance. “It appears that Tricky Rikke is a name well earned.”

“And Sticky Rikke, too,” she muttered from the side of her mouth, “I promise you.”

“No doubt there will be a time after me.” Bayaz’s eyes were fixed on hers, hard and glittering green. “But that time is not yet. For a girl blessed with the Long Eye, you have made some short-sighted blunders.”

She got as close to a carefree shrug as she could, no easy thing, with the weight of his displeasure on her shoulders. “You told me once that people must be allowed to make their own mistakes.”

His eyes narrowed, and he closed the gap between them with one step. She felt Shivers shift behind her, the faint rattle as he gripped his sword, and she had just the presence of mind to raise one finger to still him.

“You are very brave,” said the First of the Magi, and his voice was almost painful on her ear. “Or very rash. To cavil with a man who has called up storms and snatched down lightning. Who scattered the mighty Hundred Words like chaff on the wind.” He leaned forwards, baring his teeth, and it was the most she could do to stop herself cringing, stumbling back, dropping to her knees. “Why, you must know, that with a thought I could make ash of you.”

Now that was a hard moment. Worse than hiding in an icy stream while she heard her death plotted on the bank. Worse than when she watched the Young Lion losing to the Great Wolf. Worse than when

she had to choose which eye to have pricked out. It took all she had to meet Bayaz’s gaze. All she’d learned and all she’d lost. As if his anger was a crushing grip, squeezing the breath from her chest. But she did it. Then she pushed her lips out in a thoughtful pout, then she pressed her finger against them for a moment, then she shrugged.

“No,” she said brightly. “I don’t see it. If everyone knew you chose the kings, and you had all the power, they might get it in their heads to take it from you. I reckon you’d sooner stay behind the curtain, where it’s safe, and have others do the burning.”