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Game of Big Numbers

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Mukta Singh-Zocchi

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“And there, too?” Catti-brie asked, indicating a lower point, a shelf not much higher than the floor of the rift, where a cluster of giant stalagmites lay at a strange angle, some broken, some still showing their full tips, and one even hinting at the glow of faerie fire. “That is what remains of House Oblodra,” Gromph told her. “Thrown in here by Matron Mother Baenre in the Time of Troubles nearly two centuries ago. They sought to use the silence of Lolth to their advantage with their psionic powers. Lolth didn’t like it.”

“Physical attraction did its part to glue them together, but something stronger than sexual attraction sealed the bond. When men and women grow apart, it is for the same reason they are drawn together; because they are finally, inherently too different. Friendships among women, on the other hand, were burdened by similarity.”

“When Ethan finally arrived at Heron's Point and was shown into the parlor, Merritt was concerned by his appearance. He was obviously exhausted, with sleepless shadows beneath his eyes, and uncharacteristic grooves of strain carved into his face. Ethan's iron constitution and Napoleonic ability to go without sleep had always been a source of ready humor among the Ravenels. But he was still a young man who shouldered a weight of worldly responsibilities that would have crushed nearly everyone else.”

“She lifted her head and smiled. For one moment, that face stopped Adin in his tracks. In her mid-twenties, she was tall and long-necked, her perfect posture making the most of a figure that could not be improved upon. But it was the sweetness of her expression that caught Adin off guard. This was not a woman to put on airs. Her face, dewy soft and delightfully formed by the hand of the Almighty, held no self-importance, no testy awareness of her own dignity. Her smile held about it a tinge of sadness, as if she was about to bid farewell to something precious. That very morning, she had braved death to come into the king's presence uninvited. God had heard the fervent prayers of his people, for the king had simply lifted his scepter to her and bid her to ask for anything she wished. Esther had asked for nothing, save this banquet.”

“To Roxannah, the very silence became mesmerizing, for she suspected that just beneath that fragile exterior, the queen waged a battle. Walk away and leave her enemy to deal with her own problems, or dip in her oar and try to save a woman who had, according to gossip, made it her mission to take away Esther's crown. As Hathach had pointed out, this was a simple matter. Few royals, bred to defend their position and territory, would have experienced such inner turmoil over it. Roxannah found herself drawn to this woman who had withheld her praise on purpose to protect a minor retainer and who turned white at the thought of refusing help to her enemy. Here was a monarch worth serving.”