Page 15 of The Bone Season

‘You are about to find out.’

‘What gives you the right to collar us?’ he demanded. ‘Unless you’ve got Senshield working early, you can’t prove I have an aura, you—’

He stopped. As we all stared at him, dark beads of blood seeped from his eyes. A frisson passed through the æther before he collapsed.

Pleione dealt him a pitiless look. When she lifted her face, I saw that her own eyes had turned a clean blue, like the flame on a blowtorch.

‘I trust,’ she said, ‘that there are no further objections.’

The palmist clapped a hand over her mouth. Pleione left, locking the door in her wake.

At first, no one spoke. I had no idea what I had just witnessed, and apparently, neither did anyone else. The palmist slid to the floor with a weak sound of despair, holding her right arm as if it hurt.

I sat in a corner. Beneath my sleeves, my skin was stippled with goosebumps. It had been a bad idea to wet my hair in this cold place.

A man in his early twenties, bald and tall and broad-shouldered, moved to sit beside me. His large eyes were as deep a brown as his skin.

‘Julian,’ he said.

‘Paige.’ I cleared my throat. ‘How did you end up here?’

‘Believe it or not, I was on my way to buy milk.’ Julian breathed out through his nose. ‘Did they just get you for your aura?’

‘I may also have killed an Underguard.’ It didn’t sound real. ‘You?’

‘I may also have killed a Vigile.’ He looked weary. ‘I only wanted a cup of tea.’

We both glanced at the tasseographer, who lay where he had fallen. He was still breathing, but out cold, his aura fainter than before.

‘She just … looked at him.’ Julian spoke quietly. ‘She was voyant, wasn’t she?’

‘Of some kind. On that note, I can’t get a read on you.’

‘I didn’t do it with my gift, if that’s what you’re asking.’ He leaned against the wall. ‘I shot him with his own gun in the struggle, but he must have called for backup. Didn’t take them long to find me.’

He was avoiding my unspoken question. I nodded, letting it slide. His aura did interest me, but some voyants liked to keep their gifts secret.

Icy water dripped from the ceiling and landed on my nose. A crystallist was rocking back and forth, muttering to himself in another language. All the soothsayers and augurs must be losing it without their numa, the materials they used to connect with the æther.

‘I can’t put a finger on your aura, either.’ Julian narrowed his eyes. ‘I’d say oracle, but—’

‘But?’

‘I met an oracle a few years ago, and you’re not giving me the same feeling. Are you a sibyl?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m an acultomancer.’

It was a lie I often told. A deflection, but also a test of competence. That type of soothsaying was rare enough that people sometimes believed me, if they didn’t have the knack for auras.

Julian arched an eyebrow. Evidently he did have the knack.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘What did you do, stab your Underguard with a needle?’

‘Something like that,’ I said.

There was a crash from outside, then a scream. Everyone stopped talking.

‘I haven’t readOn the Meritsof Unnaturalnessin a while,’ Julian said, lowering his voice further, ‘but surely your aura would be purple.’

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