Many people smiled, but Cappie only snorted. Her mother placed a hand on Cappie's forehead and offered her a barley sugar.

"Now I'm just here to observe," Rashid was saying, "and I don't want special treatment. A lot of places I go, people start talking the way they think lords talk, using big words, rolling their Rs, quoting obscure old poets…"

Cappie took the barley sugar, popped it into her mouth, and ground her teeth against it.

"But I don't hold with such top-lofty behavior," the Spark Lord said, "and neither should you. Just do what you'd do on any other Commitment Day, without putting on a show for me. I know you don't get many Spark Lords here — as far as I can tell, you've never had a Spark visit, although your Patriarch came to see us long ago — so some of you might want to chat with me… shake my hand… have me kiss your baby… something you can drop into conversation the next time you go to Wiretown."

I heard a crunch as Cappie bit clean through the barley sugar; and just for the record, Jewel's homemade candy was only a hair softer than quartz. Zephram called it "barely sugar" — he liked it enormously.

"Don't worry," Rashid said, "I'm happy to give everyone a few minutes. But that's not what Commitment Day is about, is it? It's not about catering to lords, it's about your children going to meet Master Crow and Mistress Gull. That's worth celebrating and I don't want to get in the way."

Cappie gripped my arm and made a show of digging in her fingernails… as if she were desperate enough to kill Rashid or herself any second now. I just shrugged. She might mistrust him, but everyone else in the crowd clearly took him at face value. Why shouldn't they? From birth, we'd been taught to revere the Sparks as our protectors, our line of defense against the scheming traitors who sold out to the star demons four hundred years ago. If Cappie and I had met Lord Rashid under different circumstances: without Steck, for example…

My mother…

Where was Steck anyway?

"That's all I have to say," Rashid finished. "I wish everyone a good celebration and thank you for giving me such a… robust welcome so far."

Mayor Teggeree surged forward with his hands high in zealous applause. The rest of the village joined enthusiastically — most of them anyway. Neither Leeta nor Hakoore put much energy into their clapping, although Leeta at least had the grace to wear an expression of determined courtesy. Hakoore didn't so much as smile, and his ovation was restricted to three constipated claps.

"It's an honor to have you with us, my lord," Teggeree boomed out when the applause eased. "And while the Council of Elders has already welcomed you…" (he didn't mention that it happened in the middle of the night) "…I want to make sure you receive the full offer of hospitality you deserve."

Cappie inhaled sharply. "He wouldn't!"

But the mayor was already gesturing into the crowd. "Father Ash? Mother Dust? Are you willing to come up here?"

Heads nodded approval all around as people near the stairway nudged back to form an open space. Into that space, Bonnakkut and the other members of the Warriors Society helped two people as thin as skeletons: Father Ash and Mother Dust, the oldest man and woman in Tober Cove. Their names were ceremonial titles, given when their predecessors died; I had known them by other names before, but it was disrespectful to use those names now. When this Mother or Father died, the next oldest in town would rise to the position, losing whatever human name he or she might have and becoming what we called a Doorkeeper to the Gods.

As Father Ash and Mother Dust moved to the bottom of the stairs, everyone in the crowd knelt. You did that when the Mother and Father came together — going down on your knees wasn't just a tradition, it was an automatic response. No matter how foul-tempered or foolish the two might be as human beings, Father Ash and Mother Dust commanded respect.

They were the true masters of Tober Cove. Outsiders might think the mayor and Council of Elders spoke for the town, but they were only in charge of mundane matters: setting the price of fish and collecting taxes to pay the schoolmaster. Hakoore kept the town true to the Patriarch's Law and Leeta stood for woman's wisdom, but neither Patriarch's Man nor Mocking Priestess had final word over what went on in the cove.

That right belonged to Father Ash and Mother Dust. They almost never took a stand… but when the mayor said one thing, Hakoore said another, and Leeta said a third, Father Ash and Mother Dust were there to adjudicate between the squabbling children. Zephram called them figureheads, but he was wrong — they were our spiritual leaders, raised by venerability above Hakoore's legalistic theology and Leeta's milkweed dances. Father Ash and Mother Dust were the tiny nuggets of holiness that remained after you got past the rules and rites of religion.

"Father… Mother…" Teggeree called from his knees. "I beg you to extend the hospitality of Tober Cove to Lord Rashid."

"And to my Bozzle, of course," Rashid said offhandedly.

Steck stepped out of the Council Hall doorway, sliding in behind Rashid like a shadow. I doubt if most people in the crowd even noticed — everyone knew Spark Lords had such aides to handle secretarial chores and other menial details. The town's concentration was centered on Rashid, Father Ash and Mother Dust. Perhaps Cappie and I were the only ones to give the Bozzle a second glance.

Overnight, Steck had become female… at least to outward appearance. The beard was gone and the carelessly shaggy hair had been trimmed into the practical style worn by many farm wives: efficiently short but feminine, in a hearty way that fit Steck's broad-shouldered physique. I wondered if the mayor's wife had done the haircutting. Certainly, she had donated the clothes Steck now wore — I recognized the long but billowy dress of forest green, and the lighter green overshirt with enough of a V neckline to show a hint of cleavage. As a forty-year-old woman, Steck actually had a remarkable body…

…then it struck me I was ogling a Neut, not to mention my mother. I shuddered with a sudden case of the icks.

Get over it, I told myself. Pretend Rashid's Bozzle is just some Southern woman, not worth asecond thought. I had sworn I would keep Steck's secret, and besides, I didn't want to remind the town of my scandalous parentage. It wouldn't hurt to think of Steck as a woman, at least for a day.

She looked enough like a woman, didn't she? The face was not one hundred percent female, but it would pass. In a way, seeing that ambiguous face made me want to know what Steck looked like when she was my mother. She wouldn't have been the same, I knew that. Except for flukes like Olimbarg, people's male and female selves seldom resembled each other more than brother and sister; Neuts were supposed to be different again. There was little chance anyone would recognize Steck as a Neut they'd seen briefly twenty years ago… especially now, when all the people had turned their attention to Rashid.

Father Ash and Mother Dust were sizing up Rashid just like everyone else. We were lucky this Father and Mother both had clear wits — not always the case, when the sole criterion for gaining the position was being older than anyone else. The elderly man and woman squinted up at the lord with thoughtful expressions on their faces, while Rashid returned their gaze calmly. He didn't make the mistake of trying to charm them with a politician's smile, but I thought he looked pleasant enough: a good-natured man, well-groomed and respectful.

Mother Dust whispered something to Father Ash and he whispered back. I found it hard to believe they were seriously discussing the option of denying hospitality to a Spark Lord — more likely, this was only a token gesture to assert their independence from the Sparks, the mayor and everyone else.