worried. Yorbel would do the absurd for the sake of his emperor, both the one who had died and the one who was yet to be crowned. “I will proceed with discretion and will report back.”
Dar blinked at him. “Wait—you’re going to do it?”
“Yes.” There was more he could say, about how he didn’t want it to be true, about how he couldn’t live with himself if Dar was killed and he hadn’t done all he could, about how even augurs didn’t know all the secrets of a person’s heart.
In a low voice, so soft that Yorbel was barely able to hear it beneath the singing of the guards, Dar whispered, “You truly think it’s possible my brother could have been reborn as a kehok?”
“No,” Yorbel said firmly. And then added:
“But I think we must be sure.”
Yorbel chose the long way back to the temple after his meeting with the emperor-to-be. He needed to think. He knew he’d picked the right course of action, but how to do it?
In the late-afternoon heat, few people were out. If riots and protests were brewing, the perpetrators were sensible enough to wait until it cooled. Most shopkeepers were tucked back inside their tents and stalls. A monkey was napping in the shade of one building. A young man knelt next to a fountain, washing a pile of tunics. On one street corner, beneath a copper statue of a cat commissioned by a long-dead noble, a beggar child held out a cup, and Yorbel dropped a few coins into it.
“Thank you,” the child said, then saw his pendant. “Oh! Master augur! What am I going to—” His cheeks flushed bright red as he remembered he wasn’t supposed to ask. “I’m sorry. I can’t pay.”
“I am not permitted to read auras outside the temple, unless sanctioned by the high augurs or the emperor,” Yorbel said, but he knelt beside the child. “Are you kind to others?”
The boy bobbed his head.
“If you think an ugly thought, do you keep it inside where it can’t hurt anyone?”
Another nod.
“If you see someone who needs help, do you try to help them?”
A more tentative nod. His eyes flickered to his cup.
“I said ‘try.’ You don’t need to give up food you need. But if you see someone fall in the street, do you try to help them stand?”
A more eager nod.
“Then that’s all you need to do to make sure your next life is better than this one. Cultivate kindness. Never steal anyone’s hope.” He smiled gently at the boy. “I don’t have to read your aura to know you’ll be fine.”
A tear leaked out of the boy’s left eye. He dashed it away with a fist.
“Get yourself something to eat,” Yorbel told him, and poured more coins into his cup.
The boy clutched the cup of coins to his chest and then scampered down the street. Hands pushing off his knees, Yorbel stood. He hoped his words helped. He believed every one of them. He just wished he knew how to say it without sounding like he was quoting a rehearsed speech.
“Are you preaching to the poor and downtrodden now?” a light female voice said behind him. “You know the bejeweled crocodiles you typically read will be heartbroken.” He turned with a smile on his face—he knew that voice.
“Gissa!” Without hesitation, he threw his arms wide. His old friend . . . and one of the high augurs. He remembered the latter only belatedly, lowered his arms, and bowed. “Your High Eminence.”
She laughed and embraced him. “Don’t be ridiculous, Yorbel. I’ve missed you!” She then stepped back and surveyed him. “You have gray hairs in your beard.”
He stroked it. “Does it make me look wise?”
“Very wise,” she teased. She looked exactly the same as he remembered: pomegranate-round cheeks that always seemed to be smiling, silver braids twisted on the top of her head, and kindly brown eyes. She was the older sister he’d never had, the one who coached him through his studies when he was preparing for the augur tests, the one who teased him when he was acting too serious, the one he would trust with all his worries. Ever since the last emperor died, she’d been stationed in the western cities, helping to soothe the unrest. She’d had special training for unraveling sticky political situations and was frequently sent on missions by the high council. By the River, how I’ve missed her!
“When did you get back?” he asked. Side by side, they began strolling toward the