Khalid was brought to Zulaykha neither in the courtroom nor in the courtyard.
They brought him to a small stone room beneath the garden where water had once been tallied before festivals. Two of Yusuf's men held him by the arms. Khalid's eyes were open, but he saw nothing. White dust from the old lime remained on his face, however much Nura later tried to wipe it away with a damp cloth.
Boabdil stood by the wall. Fatima was beside him. Yusuf laid the model sluice on the table. Íñigo stood unchained, but with a guard at either shoulder. Eliaz and Nura stayed near the door. Rafiq had not been admitted: they did not want to discuss in front of the boy who would have to be condemned to death.
Boabdil looked at Khalid as though a man raised from the dead stood before him.
"He was beneath my palace?" the emir asked.
Yusuf bowed.
"Khalid was hiding from the mob, which would have killed him before he could be judged. I kept him safe as the last master, so I could question him when the city was ready to hear what he had to say."
The explanation sounded plausible, and Boabdil could not accuse Yusuf at once. But Zulaykha heard the lie in it and committed every word to memory.
Khalid heard his daughter breathe.
"You opened the garden."
"Yes."
"Then they want the Spring now."
Yusuf said:
"They want the city alive."
Khalid turned his head towards the voice.
"A living city does not begin with a drowned ditch."
Boabdil said wearily:
"Khalid, speak plainly. What will happen if the upper tooth is turned and the snowmelt released all at once?"
Everyone waited for Khalid's answer.
Khalid answered:
"The torrent will run through the northern branch, strike the outer ditch and tear away the supports and tunnels. The ground beneath them will turn to mud. Soldiers in heavy armour will not get out. Neither will the sick. Nor the cooks, prisoners, boys with mules or women travelling with the baggage train. The army will lose many people. The kings will withdraw for several days, perhaps a week."
Fatima whispered:
"A week might save the children within the walls."
Nura looked sharply at her.
Fatima did not look away.
"Let their children learn our fear."
Eliaz said:
"Whatever name you give fear, it does not become justice."
"Physician, do not teach mothers how to count."
Zulaykha watched Íñigo.
As Íñigo listened, he grew steadily paler.
Yusuf approached the table.
"If we do not do this, Gonzalo will breach the ditch himself. The torrent will come regardless, but then we will no longer be able to stop it."
Íñigo said:
"He will strike lower down. My father will not open the entire course until he has me."
"You know a great deal about a man who has already branded you twice."
Íñigo did not flinch.
"That is precisely why I know."
Boabdil raised a hand.
"Daughter of Khalid. You hold the full seal. Can you release the water in a way that buys the city time?"
Zulaykha laid her palm on the copper.
All her life, Zulaykha had wanted to exonerate her father and clear the name of the house of al-Mairi. Now she could give the city another week and take revenge on those besieging Granada.
And all of it could be called justice, provided she did not look at the people in the ditch.
She remembered the boy by the Darro, his arms hanging lifelessly. She remembered Rafiq, Samir's son, whose name the adults had almost dishonoured. She remembered Íñigo, maimed by his father. She remembered Khalid behind bars, able to clear his name at the cost of other lives, and refusing to do it.
"I can," she said.
Yusuf breathed out, almost imperceptibly.
Zulaykha raised her eyes.
"But I will not."
Fatima covered her face with one hand.
Boabdil went pale.
Yusuf's face remained impassive. Only his gaze grew colder.
"You choose the enemy."
"I choose not to execute with water those who carry no sword."
"You choose your father's pride."
Khalid said quietly:
"No. She chooses the prohibition."
Yusuf turned sharply towards him.
"Your prohibition cost the city a year of thirst."
"And your reckoning cost it its conscience."
The room grew so quiet that Zulaykha heard the water running beneath the stone. One turn of the sluice would be enough to direct it into the city or the enemy ditch.
Boabdil did not want to look at her.
Yusuf raised the tablet bearing the corrupted mark.
"Then the law you accepted yourself is all that remains. The water contract protected the prisoner until he lied before the bowl. His mark was sent to the enemy from the room with the bowl, and the second line pointed to the ditch. Under the law of the old masters, that protection is suspended until the hearing at the fountain, and the house of al-Mairi bears responsibility for the prisoner's lie."
"At the hearing by the fountain, judgement must rest on the water, not on your tablet," said Zulaykha.
"You no longer hold the seal that would let you demand due order," Yusuf replied. "A house that has taken in a liar will be closed until judgement."
"Remove the full seal."
Nura stepped forwards, but the guards had already seized Zulaykha by the arms. The copper plate was torn from her palm.
Yusuf said:
"Íñigo de Mena is no longer protected by the inquiry. He will be returned to his father as a prisoner whose lie nearly opened a passage to the enemy."
"That is a lie," said Zulaykha.
"At a judgement where you bear no seal, it will be the opinion of a woman from an accused house."
Íñigo looked at her.
There was no plea in his eyes, only the same weariness Zulaykha had seen beside the cracked stake. His father was once again demanding his son back as his property, and the city was once again blaming Íñigo for someone else's designs.
The guards led him towards the door.
On the threshold he stopped for a moment and touched the scar beneath his left collarbone, the mark his father had left.
Zulaykha understood: Íñigo still had not remembered the fourth line of Amina's song. His mother's words lay hidden in a memory he was afraid to revisit.
Yusuf took the full seal from the table.
Somewhere above them, the Lion Fountain was silent once more.
Zulaykha was left without the seal, without proof and without Íñigo, whom she had believed.
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