library. She was tempted to say that the histories were silent on any number of concrete facts, but knew that had every account about every activity been preserved, she would find no similar events.
The Seneschal, along with a half dozen of the Kings’ Swords, was waiting to escort the Terafin party to the chamber in Avantari reserved for The Ten. He tendered her a deep bow; she returned a slight nod. She dropped a hand to the back of Shadow’s neck, and kept a grip on his fur. He hissed with amusement; the Kings’ Swords tensed slightly. It was the only way in which they acknowledged the presence of a petty, giant cat.
Teller walked to Jewel’s right; Shadow occupied the left. There had, as usual, been a jostle for position initiated entirely by the cat; it had been, on the other hand, subtle in the context of that cat. They made their way, without mishap or interruption, to the closed Council doors.
Before those doors rolled open, Jewel stiffened. Without looking at Teller, she raised her hands in brief den-sign: Ambush.
He understood her meaning seconds before the familiar Council table came into view: Terafin was the last of The Ten to arrive, and from the sound of the room—which stilled as she stepped into the chamber—the other nine had been in session for some time.
* * *
Jewel was not happy. She had been surprised, and she shouldn’t have been. She caught the tone of voices as they faded into a silence that acknowledged the open door and the arrival of the Terafin party. It had not been an entirely cordial or civil discussion, then. She had allies on this Council, but not one of them had chosen to give her any advance warning.
Given the subject, it should not have come as a surprise; they could not discuss her without ramifications in her presence. Which is, of course, why she disliked being absent, especially today. Shadow glanced around the table but did not wander off to dump his head in the nearest friendly lap; he stood by her side, as if waiting—respectfully—for her command.
“Terafin,” The Korisamis said, rising—which surprised Jewel—to offer her the shallow bow that indicated genuine respect between equals.
“My apologies for the hour of my arrival,” she replied. “I was clearly misinformed of the time the meeting was to commence.” She kept her expression stiff; the words had edge, but at least they were polite. She walked to her seat; Teller took his.
The Berrilya raised an iron brow. “Apologies, Terafin. It was felt that some portion of the discussion might lack the gravitas one would otherwise expect from one’s peers.” He glanced, pointedly, at The Wayelyn—who had not chosen to second Solran Marten as his adjutant for this meeting. The Ten had, in fact, chosen to pare down their entourages to the bare minimum of guards and a single counselor; it was what she herself had chosen to do.
“The Guildmaster of the Order of Knowledge has petitioned the Council,” he continued, when The Wayelyn failed to interrupt. “She asks your permission, Terafin, to sit as observer for this discussion.”
“Is she within Avantari?”
“She is. She can be found in Queen Marieyan’s Court, and if her presence is acceptable, she will attend us without delay.”
“The rest of The Ten will accept this?” Jewel asked softly.
The Garisar said, “I fail to see why we should, and I have made my objections known prior to your arrival. I would like to repeat them now.”
Jewel inclined her head. “Your objection is noted. The reason?”
“The business of The Ten is not the business of the Order of Knowledge.”
“Indeed, it is not,” she replied. She had not herself decided how to handle Sigurne’s unusual request, and wondered if that request had been prompted by another House. If it had, no one was willing to own it. She glanced over her shoulder to her domicis, who waited by the wall as if he were, in truth, just another servant.
You take a risk, if you accede.
I take a risk if I don’t, she replied. We are to discuss The Wayelyn’s song, and its growing effect. We deal now in magics that no one of us understands.
You cannot afford to own that ignorance. He was, of course, correct.
Tell the page to summon Sigurne.
He nodded stiffly.
She turned back toward the large table. “When we agreed to a recess, the topic of discussion was a song, written without my knowledge and without my consent by The Wayelyn. I could not speak of