thoughts. It felt a bit like listening to all the musicians and seeing all the brilliantly painted buildings at once, except he wasn’t listening with his ears and he wasn’t looking with his eyes. He began to see blurred colors flickering within the people around him.
If he concentrated on one person, he could see their aura: flecks of gold or streaks of black, a dusting of rust, and if he were to calm his mind, those colors would take form. Soon he was seeing the people overlaid with the images of what they would become, if they continued on their current path: a woman who bore the shimmering outline of a rabbit, a man who melded into the ghostlike shape of a boar, one who carried a cricket within him, another who would be reborn as human.
It made Yorbel’s head ache to see the world this way, overlaid with future ramifications of all the people’s past choices. Most augurs didn’t possess the strength to see so much at once. They required the quiet concentration of the temple and a one-on-one consultation. But there was a reason Yorbel had been selected at age eight for training.
But as strong as he was, as he approached the cages, his steps faltered.
The aura of the kehoks was unmistakable: layered with shadows, streaked with red, and sliced with angry, blinding-white lightning bolts. Confronted with such angry ugliness, he couldn’t breathe for a moment. He’d never seen one this close up before. It was nauseating, the way the colors bashed and swirled. So this is what a doomed soul looks like. I think I’m going to be sick.
He felt a hand land heavily on his shoulder. “You all right?” a man asked.
Yorbel blinked at him, and for a moment could see only the soothing gray of a balanced soul. He forced himself to concentrate on the silhouette of the man until it resolved into a bearded man with a tuft of gray hair around his ears, a bulbous nose, and a wide mouth. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to a market.”
The man chuckled. “You had that look. Can I point you in the right direction? That way”—he gestured to the left—“you’ll find some of the best pastries in all of Becar. My wife bakes them, so I have to say that, but it happens to be true.”
“Tell me, please, where can I find the recordkeeper for the kehok auction?”
“Ah, you’ll want Overseer Irin. She keeps tabs on this section of Seronne.” The man pointed her out—a tall woman in a red robe who strode between the cages. She carried a leather-bound book tucked under one elbow and had the imperious look of someone in charge. I should have spotted her myself, Yorbel thought.
“Thank you,” he said to the man. He wanted to repay him with words of comfort about his aura, but he remembered that he was here as an ordinary traveler. “I’ll be happy to buy from your wife, once my business is complete.” The man smiled at that, and moved on to his own business.
Yorbel trailed behind the red-robed woman, trying to catch up with her, but she was crossing the market at a fast clip. He was breathing heavily by the time he got within a few cages of her—a life in the temple hadn’t prepared him for a day of exertion. She’d paused to examine three stacked cages, making notes in her book.
The seller, a shorter woman with scars on her arms, watched the overseer anxiously and then heaved an obvious sigh of relief when Irin tore a piece of paper from her book and handed it to her.
As the seller scurried away, the recordkeeper lingered by the triple-stacked cages as she updated her book, which gave Yorbel a chance to catch up to her. Before Yorbel could introduce himself, though, she spoke. “You’ve been stalking me. Poorly.”
“Apologies, Overseer Irin,” Yorbel said with a slight bow. “I did not intend to alarm you, but I’d like to take a look at your records.”
She raised both eyebrows. “No.”
“It’s important.”
“To you, perhaps.”
“To the family who hired me.” Yorbel reached into his tunic and displayed the augur’s pendant, then tucked it back in. He was proud of himself for the discreet phrasing. He’d given the matter careful thought on the journey to the market. Lots of families hired augurs for various reasons.
“Oh. One of those.” Overseer Irin did not seem impressed or even surprised. He wasn’t sure what reaction he expected, but it