Nia’s face had a look of mingled confusion and pleasure. “Yes,” she whispered, then thrust the mirror into Daja’s hands and clung to her mother. Kol and Matazi exchanged looks.

“My turn,” Jory said, bouncing up and down.

Opal fire darted around the rim, just as it had for Nia. Looking over Jory s shoulder, Daja saw what she expected to see: pots on hearth-fires, spices being measured, busy hands working dough, all reflected with Jory’s face in the mirror.

“Cooking and carpentry,” remarked Kol. “Well. Don’t look so glum, Nia. This could make you girls more sought-after marriage choices.”

“It’ll make Jory more sought-after,” said Nia. “Families want cook-mages for their sons. What house will want a bride covered in sawdust?”

“A wise one,” Matazi said, kissing Nia’s head. “I can think of three ship-building clans who will give their eye-teeth for a bride who can sense woodrot.”

“Ship-builders?” Nia asked, her face brightening a little.

“Ship-builders,” Kol said firmly. “Including old Domanus Moykep. I don’t believe he’s arranged matches for his youngest son’s boys.”

Nia blushed and hid her face against her mother’s shoulder. Daja wasn’t surprised that the Bancanors were already looking around for good matches for their twins: northern girls were married at fifteen or sixteen, and negotiations between wealthy families took years to complete. She was surprised to find Nia liked one of the rowdy teenaged boys who lived down the alley-she would have expected Nia to hide the moment a boy so much as addressed her.

Looking at Daja, Kol asked, “What comes next?”

“I’ll need to find what mages are here in the twins’ specialties. Each twin will do best with a teacher who has the same magic that she does,” replied Daja. “And Frostpine says I’d best start showing them how to meditate, so they can get to know their magic and control it.”

“Oh, splendid,” moaned Jory. ”More lessons.” Daja ignored her.

“I’ll need a regular time for meditation every day,” she told the twins’ parents.

Matazi thought for a moment, tapping her cheek with a graceful finger. “I’ll change the dancing master to the hour after midday,” she said at last. “You can have his time in the late afternoon to meditate-will that suit?” Daja nodded.

“These mages,” Kol asked, a wicked glint in his eye, “what kinds of fees will they charge? Will I get a two-for-one discount, since they’re twins?”

“Papa,” cried the girls, rolling their eyes in exasperation.

“Just like a banker, always thinking about money,” said Frostpine with a grin. “Just keep in mind how much bigger a bride-price you’ll get for mage-wives. The lessons are an investment.” He drained his tea glass and continued more seriously. “As for fees, if a potential teacher got a credential from Lightsbridge or Winding Circle, he won’t charge a fee. Teaching is what graduates of those schools do to repay their masters for their own training. You want graduates. They have broader learning than someone who only has a Mages’ Society license.”

Matazi nodded. “I’ll draw up a list,” she said. “Those I don’t know, Anyussa or the housekeeper will.” She looked at her daughters. “Well, you two are always full of surprises. Off to bed with you.”

The twins kissed their parents and raced toward the stairs. Jory wondered aloud if she really could make and sell a charm to take the lumps from sauces and gravies, as Daja had jokingly suggested earlier. Daja shook her head, thinking, Merchants’ daughters to the bone.

Kol, Matazi, Frostpine, and Daja sat once more. Daja ran her finger around the mirror’s rim. She was trying to decide if it could be used for other things than magic-seeing when Matazi said, “This isn’t from my side of the family.” Daja looked up to see Matazi shake her head, her smile half-amused, half-rueful.

“No, it’s mine,” Kol said tiredly as he poured himself a fresh glass of tea. “That’s why we called in magic-sniffers twice,” he explained to Frostpine and Daja. “We have cousins at Lightsbridge now, and one who graduated from there. There’s an uncle in Dancruan who’s a cook-mage. My great-grandfather was a carpentry-mage. So they come by it honestly.” He and Matazi exchanged a troubled glance.

“Most parents would be happy, with such an opportunity for their girls,” Frostpine remarked softly.

Kol said, “It complicates things.”

“Two families who expressed an interest in the girls will turn mages down flat,” added Matazi. “Many people think that mage-wives are far too independent and unpredictable. Yes, we’ll replace Nia’s candidates with ship-builder clans, but we’ll have to start talks all over again. Namornese marriages take years to arrange.”

“We have time,” Kol said. “We’re not remotely ready to let them go. And I know that Nia has an eye on that Moykep boy. We’ll need to see how she feels in a couple of years before we finalize anything. The Moykeps will reduce what they want as her dowry since she does have carpentry magic.”

“All of this is nothing you have to worry about, though,” Matazi told Daja with a smile. “I feel like we’re imposing on you, asking you to choose their teachers, but I’d feel better leaving that to a mage.”

Daja covered a yawn. She was exhausted. “I have a responsibility to them,” she told Matazi. “To them, I suppose, and to my own teachers. If you could make up a list of possible instructors?”