Liiman fishing villages a short way south of Nissimorn, where they bought fresh-caught fish and held picnic on the beach and swam and lay in the sun. Or on moonless evenings they went to the Crystal Boulevard, where the revolving reflectors cast dazzling patterns of ever-changing light, and peered in awe at the exhibit cases maintained by the great companies of Majipoor, a streetside museum of costly goods, so magnificent and so opulently displayed that not even the boldest of thieves would dare to attempt an entry. And often they dined at one of the floating restaurants, frequently taking Liloyve with them, for she loved those places above all else in the city. Each island was a miniature of some far territory of the planet, its characteristic plants and animals thriving there, and its special foods and wines a feature: one of windy Piliplok, where those who had the price dined on sea-dragon meat, and one of humid Narabal with its rich berries and succulent ferns, and one of great Stee on Castle Mount, and a restaurant of Stoien and one of Pidruid and one of Til-omon — but none of Velathys, Inyanna learned without surprise, nor was the Shapeshifter capital of Ilirivoyne favored with an island, nor harsh sun-blasted Tolaghai on Suvrael, for Tolaghai and Ilirivoyne were places that most folk of Majipoor did not care to think about, and Velathys was simply beneath notice.
Of all the places that Inyanna visited with Sidoun on these leisurely afternoons and evenings, though, her favorite was the Gossamer Galleria. That mile-long arcade, hanging high above street level, contained the finest shops of Ni-moya, which is to say the finest in all the continent of Zimroel, the finest outside the rich cities of Castle Mount. When they went there, Inyanna and Sidoun put on their most elegant clothes, that they had stolen from the best stalls in the Grand Bazaar — nothing at all to compare with what the aristocrats wore, but superior by far to their daily garb. Inyanna enjoyed getting out of the male costumes that she wore in her role as Kulibhai the thief, and dressing in slinky and clinging robes of purples and greens, and letting her long red hair tumble free. With her fingertips lightly touching Sidoun's, she made the grand promenade of the Galleria, indulging in pleasant fantasies as they inspected the eye-jewels and feather-masks and polished amulets and metal trinkets that were available, for a double handful of shining royal-pieces, to the truly wealthy. None of these things would ever be hers, she knew, for a thief who thieved well enough to afford such luxuries would be a danger to the stability of the Grand Bazaar; but it was joyous enough merely to see the treasures of the Gossamer Galleria, and to pretend.
It was on one of these outings to the Gossamer Galleria that Inyanna strayed into the orbit of Calain, brother to the duke.
8
She had no notion that that was what she was doing, of course. All she thought she was doing was conducting a little innocent flirtation, as part of the adventure into fantasy that a visit to the Galleria ought to be. It was a mild night in late summer and she was wearing one of her lightest gowns, a sheer fabric less substantial even than the webbing of which the Galleria was woven; and she and Sidoun were in the shop of dragon-bone carvings, examining the extraordinary thumbnail-sized masterpieces of a Skandar boat-captain who produced intricacies of interwoven slivers of ivory of the highest implausibility, when four men in the robes of nobility came in. Sidoun at once faded into a dark corner, for he knew that his clothing and his bearing and the cut of his hair marked him as no equal to these; but Inyanna, conscious that the lines of her body and the cool gaze of her green eyes could compensate for all sorts of deficiencies of manner, boldly held her place at the counter. One of the men glanced at the carving in her hand and said, 'If you buy that, you'll be doing well for yourself.'
'I have not made up my mind,' Inyanna replied.
'May I see it?'
She dropped it lightly into his palm, and at the same time let her eyes make contact brazenly with his. He smiled, but gave his attention mainly to the ivory piece, a map-globe of Majipoor fashioned from many sliding panels of bone. After a moment he said to the proprietor, 'The price?'
'It is a gift,' answered the other, a slender and austere Ghayrog.
'Indeed. And also from me to you,' said the nobleman, spilling the bauble back into the hand of the amazed Inyanna. Now his smile was more intimate. 'You are of this city?' he asked quietly.
'I live in Strelain,' she said.
'Do you dine often at the Narabal Island?'
'When the mood takes me.'
'Good. Will you be there at sunset tomorrow? There will be someone there eager to make your acquaintance.'
Hiding her bewilderment, Inyanna bowed. The nobleman bowed and turned away; he purchased three of the little carvings, dropping a purse of coins on the counter; then they departed. Inyanna stared in astonishment at the precious thing in her hand. Sidoun, emerging from the shadows, whispered, 'It's worth a dozen royals! Sell it back to the keeper!'
'No,' she said. To the proprietor she said, 'Who was that man?'
'You are unfamiliar with him?'
'I would not have asked you his name if I knew it.'
'Yes. Yes.' The Ghayrog made little hissing sounds. 'He is Durand Livolk, the duke's chamberlain.'
'And the other three?'
'Two are in the duke's service, and the third is a companion to the duke's brother Calain.'
'Ah,' said Inyanna. She held forth the ivory globe. 'Can you mount this on a chain?'
'It will take only a moment.'
'And the price for a chain worthy of the object?'
The Ghayrog gave her a long calculating look. 'The chain is only accessory to the carving; and since the carving was a gift, so too with the chain.' He fitted delicate golden links to the ivory ball, and packed the trinket in a box of shining stickskin.
'At least twenty royals, with the chain!' Sidoun muttered, amazed, when they were outside. 'Take it across to that shop and sell it, Inyanna!'
'It was a gift,' she said coolly. 'I will wear it tomorrow night, when I dine at the Narabal Island.'
She could not go to dinner in the gown she had worn that evening, though; and finding another just as sheer and costly in the shops of the Grand Bazaar required two hours of diligent work the next day. But in the end she came upon one that was the next thing to nakedness, yet cloaked everything in mystery: and that was what she wore to the Narabal Island, with the ivory carving dangling between her breasts.
At the restaurant there was no need to give her name. As she stepped off the ferry she was met by a somber and dignified Vroon in ducal livery, who conducted her through the lush groves of vines and ferns to a shadowy bower, secluded and fragrant, in a part of the island cut off by dense plantings from the main restaurant area. Here three people awaited her at a gleaming table of polished nightflower wood beneath a vine whose thick hairy stems were weighed down by enormous globular blue flowers. One was Durand Livolk, who had given her the ivory carving. One was a woman, slender and dark-haired, as sleek and glossy as the tabletop itself. And the third was a man of about twice Inyanna's age, delicately built, with thin close-pursed lips and soft features. All three were dressed with such magnificence that Inyanna cringed at her own fancied shabbiness. Durand Livolk rose smoothly, went to Inyanna's side, and murmured, 'You look even more lovely this evening. Come: meet some friends. This is my companion, the lady Tisiorne. And this—'
The frail-looking man got to his feet. 'I am Calain of Ni-moya,' he said simply, in a gentle and feathery voice.
Inyanna felt confused, but only for a moment. She had thought the duke's chamberlain had wanted her himself; now she understood that Durand Livolk had merely been procuring her for the duke's brother. That knowledge sparked an instant's indignation in her, but it died quickly away. Why take offense? How many young women of Ni-moya had the chance to dine on the Narabal Island with the brother of the duke? If to another it might seem that she was being used, so be it; she meant to do a little using herself, in this interchange.
A place was ready for her beside Calain. She took it and the Vroon instantly brought a tray of liqueurs, all unfamiliar ones, of colors that blended and swirled and phosphoresced. She chose one at random: it had the flavor of mountain mists, and caused an immediate tingling in her cheeks and ears. From overhead came the patter of light rainfall, landing on the broad glossy leaves of the trees and vines, but not on the diners. The rich tropical plantings of this island, Inyanna knew, were maintained by frequent artificial rainfall that duplicated the climate of Narabal.
Calain said, 'Do you have favorite dishes here?'
'I would prefer that you order for me.'
'If you wish. Your accent is not of Ni-moya.'
'Velathys,' she replied. 'I came here only last year.'
'A wise move,' said Durand Livolk. 'What prompted it?'
Inyanna laughed. 'I think I will tell that story another time, if I may.'
'Your accent is charming,' said Calain. 'We rarely meet Velathyntu folk here. Is it a beautiful city?'
'Hardly, my lord.'
'Nestling in the Gonghars, though — surely it must be beautiful to see those great mountains all around you.'
'That may be. One comes to take such things for granted when one spends all one's life among them. Perhaps even Ni-moya would begin to seem ordinary to one who had grown up here.'
'Where do you live?' asked the woman Tisiorne.
'In Strelain,' said Inyanna. And then, mischievously, for she had had another of the liqueurs and was feeling it, she added, 'In the Grand Bazaar.'
'
'Yes. Beneath the street of the cheesemongers.'
Tisiorne said, 'And for what reason do you make your home there?'
'Oh,' Inyanna answered lightly, 'to be close to the place of my employment.'
'In the street of the cheesemongers?' said Tisiorne, horror creeping into her tone.
'You misunderstand. I am employed in the Bazaar, but not by the merchants. I am a thief.'
The word fell from her lips like a lightning-bolt crashing on the mountaintops. Inyanna saw the sudden startled look pass from Calain to Durand Livolk, and the color rising in Durand Livolk's face. But these people were aristocrats, and they had aristocratic poise. Calain was the first to recover from his amazement. Smiling coolly, he said, 'A profession that calls for grace and deftness and quick-wittedness, I have always believed.' He touched his glass to Inyanna's. 'I salute you, thief who
