"No, don't. Just bring her. See that she gets there."

"Most High," the man said, taking a pose that accepted the command. Otah

rose and walked out of the room without replying. He stalked the halls

of the palace, ignoring the Master of "fides and his ineffectual

flapping papers, ignoring the poses of obeisance and respect turned to

him wherever he went, looking only for Kiyan. The rest of these people

were unimportant.

He found her in the great kitchens, standing beside the chief cook with

a dead chicken in her hands. The cook, a woman of not less than sixty

summers who had served Otah's father and grandfather, met his eyes and

went pale. Ile wondered belatedly how many times the previous Khaiem of

Machi had visited their kitchens, great or low.

"What's happened?" Kiyan asked instead of a greeting.

"Not here," Otah said. His wife nodded, passed the bird's carcass back

to the cook, and followed Otah to their rooms. As calmly as he could,

Otah related the audience. Eiah and two of her friends-Talit Radaani and

Shoyen Pak-had visited a jeweler's shop in the goldsmiths' quarter. Eiah

had stolen a brooch of emerald and pearl. The jeweler and his boy had

seen it, had come to the court asking for payment.

"He was quite polite about the whole thing," Otah said. "He cast it as a

mistake. Eiah-cha, in her girlish flights of attention, forgot to

arrange for payment. He was sorry to bother me with it, but he hadn't

been sure who I would prefer such issues be taken to and on and on and

on. Gods!"

"How much was it?" Kiyan asked.

""Three lengths of gold," Otah said. "Not that it matters. I've got the

whole city to put on for taxes and half a thousand bits of jewelry in

boxes that no one's worn in lifetimes. It's ... She's a thief! She's

going through the city, taking whatever catches her eye and ..."

Otah ran out of words and had to make do with a rough, frustrated grunt.

He threw himself down on a couch, shaking his head.

"It's my fault," he said. "I've been too busy with the court. I haven't

been a decent father to her. All the time she's spent with the daughters

of the utkhaiem, playing idiot court games about who has the prettiest

dress or the most servants-"

"Or the highest marriage," Kiyan said.

Otah put his hand over his eyes. That was more than he could think about

just now. How to correct his daughter, how to show her what she'd done

wasn't right, how to try to be a father to her; yes, that he could sit

with. '['hat it was too late, that she was already old enough to be

another man's wife; that was too much to bear.

"It's a problem, love, yes," Kiyan said. "But sweet. She's fourteen

summers old. She stole a pretty thing to see if she could. It's not

actually unusual. I was a year older than her when my father caught me

sneaking apples off the back of a farmer's cart."

"And did he marry you off to the farmer in punishment?"

"I'm sorry I brought up the marriage. I only meant that Eiah's world's

no simpler than ours. It only seems that way from here. 'l'o her, it's

just as confused and difficult as anything you deal with. She's only

half a girl, and not quite half a woman."

Kiyan frowned. Her eyes were rueful and resigned, and she stretched her

arms until the elbows cracked.

"My father made me apologize to the farmer and work for the man until

I'd earned back twice the cost of what I'd taken. I don't know that's

much guidance for us, though. I don't think any of these girls could do

work worth three lengths of gold."

"So what do we do?"

"It doesn't matter, love. As long as she's clear that what she did

didn't end the way she'd hoped, we'll have come as close as we can. I'd

say restrict her from seeing "Ialit Radaani for a week's time, but that

hardly seems equal to the stakes."

"She could assist the physicians," Otah said. "Carry out the night pans,

wash dressings for the hurt. A week of that to pay back the city for

what it bought her."

Kiyan chuckled.

"So long as she doesn't start enjoying it. She plays at being repulsed

by blood because it's expected of her. I think at heart, there's nothing

she'd like more than to cut a body apart and see how it's built. She'd

have made a fine physician if she'd been born a bit lower."

They talked a bit longer, and Otah felt his rage and uncertainty fade.

Kiyan's quiet, sane, thoughtful voice was the most soothing thing he

knew. She was right. It wasn't strange, it wasn't a sign that Eiah would

grow up to be her aunt Idaan, scheming and killing and lying for the

pleasure of it. It was a girl of fourteen summers seeing how far she

could go, and the answer was not so far as this. Otah kissed Kiyan

before they left, his lips on her cheek. She smiled. There were

crow's-feet at the corners of her eyes now. White strands had shot her

hair since she'd been young, but there were more now. Her eyes still

glittered as they had when he'd met her in tJdun when she'd been the

keep of a wayhouse and he had been a courier. She seemed to sense his

thoughts, and put her hand to his cheek.

"Shall we go be the troll-like, unfair, unfeeling, stupid, venal

dispensers of unjust punishment?" she asked.

The blue chamber was wide and round, a table of white marble dominating

it like a sheet of ice floating in a far northern sea. The windows

looked out on the gardens through walls so thick that sparrows and

grackles perched in the sills and pecked at the carved meshwork of the

inner shutters. Eiah had been pacing, but stopped when they came in. She

looked from one to the other, trying for an innocence of expression that

she couldn't quite reach.

"Come, sit," Kiyan said, gesturing to the table. Eiah came forward as if

against her will and sat in one of the carved wooden chairs. Her gaze

darted between the two of them, her chin already beginning to slide forward.

"I understand you took something from a jeweler. A brooch," Otah said.

"Is that true?"

"Who told you that?" Eiah asked.

"Is it true?" Otah repeated, and his daughter looked down. When she

frowned, the same small vertical line appeared between her brows that

would sometimes show Kiyan's distress. Otah felt the passing urge to

soothe her fears, but this wasn't the moment for comfort. Ile scowled

until she looked up, then down again, and nodded. Kiyan sighed.

"Who told you?" Eiah asked again. "It was Shoyen, wasn't it? She's

jealous because Talit and I were-"

"You told us, just now," Otah said. "That's all that matters."