“I can see that.” She rolled over on her side and looked at him without blinking. He felt he had never been scrutinized up close so intimately, and it took every scrap of willpower not to flinch at her velvety appraisal. “You are a naïf who has traveled widely. I can tell by how you speak. It takes a certain kind of independent spirit to remain aloof when one has gotten around.”

“Independent spirit is a polite way to put it. I prefer to think of it as a character flaw.”

She laughed a little and her tail lashed against the stone beneath her.

He asked her, “Why did the Ghullim allow me to approach, when you clearly approve of your own independence?”

“You showed no sign of being a threat to our security.”

He had to acknowledge they had read him correctly, but still that seemed an incomplete answer. “Are you looking for something from me? News about the Emerald City, say? It is some years since I was in Shiz, where EC goings-on were always the hot topic.” He did not add, And I left in disgrace, but he imagined Muhlama H’aekeem was smart enough to guess his shortcomings.

“We have a network of informers, should we need a key piece of classified information. Anyway, it was I who gave the signal to let you in.” She rolled onto her back so he could see the bits of torn autumn leaf, red maple and lavender pearlfruit, caught in the hot white-gold of her under-trunk fur, spangling it like jewels, from her neck to her loins.

“But why?” He found he had to lower his volume or he was afraid his voice might break.

“Diversion,” she said. “Do you mind?”

“How could I mind?” he replied. “I was going nowhere special, so I could hardly be diverted.”

“I mean diversion for us. For me. A distraction from the daily efforts of our military readiness. A distraction from the threat of becoming the Chieftess, which is an obligation I have no wish to accept.”

“Can’t you simply refuse?”

“Refuse your duty to your father? To the tribe he governs?” She let her tongue hang out of the side of her mouth, playing corpse. “Only in death. Have you no concept of fathers?”

“No,” he admitted. “Mine never remembered to come round.”

“Lucky beast.”

“Him or me?”

She turned her head toward him; her chest was still exposed in the sunlight. It was all he could do to keep his eyes trained on her eyes. “If you have never enjoyed the paternal correction as administered by your own father and master, how will you qualify to be a father when it’s your turn?”

“I didn’t know I would need to supply qualifications to become a father.”

Again, she laughed. “I suppose there is really only one application procedure,” she admitted. “Touché. But in actual fact-what is your name?-I signaled you should be brought into the circle so that the subject might be changed. I was arguing with Uyodor H’aekeem about matters of state. Our words were sharp, and I didn’t want to lose my temper. In general it isn’t considered seemly among the Ghullim, and for a chieftain’s daughter to discredit her father’s position by second-guessing him-well, it isn’t done.”