She stared at the tourmaline pieces scattered across the game board in a pattern she could not yet understand.
Her hooded opponent was dead, but she had not defeated him and she did not know who had. There were other players, other wizards to whom the cosmos was only a game, playing against her. She was as certain of that as she had been when she denied the possibility only a few months before.
She would identify and defeat her new opponents. She would sit on the Throne of Malkar and crush the cosmos in her hand like a ripe peach if it suited her mood to do so. She alone!
She strode to the door and opened it. The servitor bowed to her, as always impassive.
"I'm not to be disturbed for any reason," she said curtly.
"An agent from Erdin has arrived," the servitor said. "He waits in the private interview room."
"For any reason!" she said. She raised a hand as if to launch lightning from the bare palm.
"Yes, milady queen," said the servitor. He bowed. His face was calm but there were minute droplets of sweat on his forehead.
The door panel was too heavy to slam. She closed it with a measured thump, then returned to the game board.
Sometimes...sometimes when she rose from a sleep where nightmare had been her closest companion, the thought lingered in her mind that the pieces might sometimes play themselvesand woe betide the wizard who tried to interfere with them.
The Queen of the Isles scowled and seated herself before the agate board. The chips of tourmaline were pawns, no more. Any other thought was madness.
She would set them to her will.