She counted the narrow cubicles, opening doors and testing latches. “Each of these can be separately locked shut.”

“Mistress, I’ll check the rooms, take a count, and measure space,” said O’eki.

“Yes.” At the far end of the warehouse a single room ran the width of the space, with heavy braces and tripods for lamps and a pair of elaborately carved low writing desks beside two wide cabinets with numerous small sliding drawers to store parchment and scrolls. “The main office. What is through those doors?”

“The public receiving rooms of the house. There are private living rooms as well, accessible through a hidden door. This was the clan’s headquarters, their main compound in Olossi, so it’s an elaborate compound. They own two warehouses in the outer city and a small estate on West Spur where they grow olives. They stored their best product here, under the watchful eye of loyal guards. The head of the household lived here while residing in the city.”

Mai was tired, her feet hurt, and she had constantly a bad taste in her mouth. She touched her belly, and with a blush drew her hand away in the hope no one had noticed.

Priya was there in an instant, hand under her elbow. “Mistress, do you need to sit down? I saw trees beyond the walls of the main courtyard. Perhaps there is a garden where you might rest.” The slave looked at their escort.

Eliar nodded. “I have the keys to the living quarters and gardens as well. Shall we go in?”

A pall of dust had settled over the living quarters. Mai shuddered, finding the vacant quarters eerie in neglect with the furniture left neatly in place and one cabinet door ajar as though someone had meant to get something and then left before closing the door. She kept expecting a stranger—or a ghost—to walk into the chambers.

The compound included two gardens, one an intimate herb and flower garden and the other a larger enclosure with a dozen fruit and nut trees ranked on either side of a pair of tiled basins filled with water and the scattered debris of fallen leaves and withered petals. Priya brushed windblown scraps off a bench under an octagonal pavilion sited between the long pools. Mai sank down gratefully. Several roof tiles had smashed on the paving, and an iron lamp stand listed on one broken leg.

“This is very pretty,” she said, because when she talked she could ignore the bile creeping up the back of her throat.

“It hasn’t been maintained.” Eliar surveyed the garden with a critical eye while Chief Tuvi paced the length of the basins and back, counting steps under his breath.

Mai coughed, and swallowed.

“Mistress?” Priya knelt beside her.

“Nothing I shouldn’t have expected.”

“Would you like to go back to my family’s compound?” Eliar asked, looking pink and embarrassed.

“No.” Louder and more firmly, she repeated herself. “No. If there are no adults remaining, then who can negotiate for use rights for this compound?”