The last bit was loud enough for the others to hear. Tamra winced. “I know you didn’t,” she said firmly. She nudged Raia to lower herself into the chair. The girl was shaking, and her skin felt clammy to the touch. If those horrible excuses for parents started yelling again, Tamra thought Raia might burst into tears or faint. “I’ll be right here with you.”
Sure enough, as soon as they shoved their way into the room and plopped their butts into seats, Raia’s parents started in again. “Pure One, you must understand. Our daughter does not accept how the world works. She doesn’t understand that we must all follow the paths laid out for us—”
The augur held up his hand. His voice was smooth, as if gentling a horse. “The truth will come out. In cases of violent death, an augur is asked to read the souls of the witnesses, to aid with determining their guilt or to identify the level of comfort they will need.”
Beside her, at the word “guilt,” Raia grabbed Tamra’s hand and squeezed it. Tamra squeezed back. This was the first bit of good news. If the augur read her, he’d see Raia’s innocence. Or at least she hoped he would. If Raia doubted her own innocence . . . Could guilt stain a soul if you weren’t truly guilty?
“Then you should be able to read that she—” Raia’s mother pointed at Raia, her hand trembling. “She—she—We did everything for her! Sacrificed everything! Gave up our own dreams, our own future, to secure hers, and she . . . she destroyed the life we worked so hard to give her.” She buried her face in her hands, and her shoulders heaved as if she were crying. When she lifted her tear-streaked face, Tamra saw she wasn’t faking it. She truly believed everything she was saying. Maybe they honestly didn’t know how terrible they were. Not everyone was willing to submit to the kind of regular augur readings that would have made them aware.
“Your choices don’t give you the right to control her future,” Tamra said.
“That’s exactly what gives us the right!” Raia’s father boomed. “We’re her parents! Without our choices, she wouldn’t exist. It’s our job to guide her toward the best possible path, and it’s her duty to walk that path! You would understand if you had children, instead of spending your days with monsters.”
Raia jumped in. “She’s a better parent than you’ll ever be! She’d never try to declare her own daughter incompetent and sign her rights away!”
Tamra felt as if her vision blurred red. “They did what?”
“He—he had papers saying he had been named my guardian. He and my parents—they planned to force me to marry him by claiming I wasn’t rational enough to make my own decisions.” She was shaking, her shoulders tight and eyes fixed on the floor, but her voice was steady and clear.
Tamra curled her hands into fists and rose. She kept her voice measured and low. “Augur—what’s your name?”
“Yorbel,” he supplied. She heard curiosity in his voice and wondered what he was reading in her aura. She hoped she got extra points for not pummeling Raia’s parents.
“Augur Yorbel, I would like to formally submit my request to adopt this girl, Raia”—she realized she didn’t know Raia’s last name, so she skipped over it—“as my daughter, on the grounds that her birth parents are spiritually stunted and incapable of guiding their daughter on the path of righteousness.” She thought she got most of the traditional words correct, or at least close enough. She also hoped Shalla meant what she said about wanting a sister. “And to invalidate any agreements between her biological parents and the deceased.”
Raia’s parents were sputtering. “You can’t—!” “She’s our daughter!” “We know what’s best for her!” “All we wanted—”
Ignoring them, Tamra said to Yorbel, “Everyone deserves a family that loves and respects them.” If Tamra had had that . . . Well, she knew how important it was.
Beside her, Raia said, “Trainer Verlas, you really want me—”
“This is nonsense!” Raia’s father blustered. “And a distraction! Celin of Seronne lies dead, and this woman is trying to shift attention from her own culpability.”
Augur Yorbel held up his hand again. “You have a point. The dead man must be addressed before anything else.” He inclined his head toward Tamra. “Your request will be filed after the current matter is resolved. First, though, I must speak with the owner of the kehok. Am I correct that this is Lady Evara of Peron?”
Tamra bit back everything she wanted to say to Raia’s parents. She was so angry that she felt as if she were vibrating. To have a child as smart and driven as Raia and to treat her like this. . . .
“Trainer Verlas?”
“Yes—you are correct.”
“Summon her here, please.”
She hadn’t been able to think of what could have made this worse, but now she knew. Tamra also knew that tone of voice—she’d used it often enough with students and kehoks alike. It was a “don’t argue with me” voice, and since it was coming from an augur who held her future in his hands, as well as Raia’s and Shalla’s, she was absolutely going to obey.
She exited the room and hurried to the cabinet where they kept the messenger wights. Sliding one of the drawers open, she lifted out the wight. It twitched at her touch.
This wight looked like a crumpled paper bird. She stroked it until its wings unfolded. She didn’t know what exactly the wights were—it was said they were bits of excess soul that were shed when someone or something was reborn. They weren’t precisely alive or dead, and they had no feelings, thoughts, or memories of their own. But they were ideal for delivering messages. You could imprint them with a simple message and destination. “Lady Evara of Peron,” Tamra instructed it. She hesitated for a moment. She didn’t want to use the word “emergency,” but she also didn’t want Lady Evara to ignore the message. She settled on: “Augur requests your presence at the training grounds.”
She released the wight and watched as it wobbled into the air. Other facilities could afford fresher wights that didn’t look as if they’d disintegrate in a stiff breeze, but they were stuck with these.
After watching the wight flutter its way toward the river, Tamra went back inside. Augur Yorbel was seated cross-legged in the center of the room, his hands on his knees as if he were meditating. Raia’s parents were clasping each other’s hands, sitting silently by the cold firepit. Raia was also silent, curled up in the chair with her arms wrapped around her knees. Not wanting to break the quiet, Tamra crossed to her and put her arm around her.
No one spoke for a long while.
Tamra wondered what Augur Yorbel had said to quiet them. She’d never had this much luck with her students. She studied him as they waited.
He didn’t look overly impressive. Older. Or more accurately, her age. His head was shaved bald, but his beard had flecks of white and gray checkering the black. His skin looked soft, as if the sun had never scorched it or even touched it much, and his face was thin and long. She wouldn’t call him handsome in a classic way, but he was peaceful to look at, especially in his meditation pose. His breathing was soothingly even, and his back was as straight as a palm tree—not stiff, just straight, as if he never thought about his posture but achieved it naturally. She’d seen Shalla spend hours trying to perfect her posture for meditation, yet this man made it look easy. He looked, in short, like what she’d imagined an augur would be like when she was a child—until she met real augurs up close and they shattered that image. He looked like a good man . . . who has the power to destroy my life with only a few words.
She’d had very few lucky breaks in her life. Lady Evara was one, even though she came with strings. Shalla. Now Raia. The rest, all the good and all the bad, she’d done herself. But it all added up to knowing that too much hope was a dangerous thing right now.
She heard a clattering outside from the sands. Standing, she saw Lady Evara, with her entourage hurrying behind her, rushing from the stable toward the waiting room. She winced and retreated. Maybe she should have been more specific in the message about where to come.
Lady Evara burst into the room. “Why is there a dead man in my stable?”
Raia’s parents jumped up, both talking at the same time, pointing at Raia and at Tamra, saying it was a crime and reparations were owed and this was negligence on the part of the trainer and malice on the part of their daughter—everything they’d spewed before but multiplied, as if they’d been using the silence to think up every argument they could.
As they talked, Augur Yorbel unfolded his legs and slowly and gracefully stood. He clasped his hands in front of him and waited until Raia’s parents took a breath.
“Lady Evara.” He bowed. “I wish to purchase your kehok.”
Everyone stared at him.
What? Tamra thought.
Then: He can’t! I need that kehok! Raia needs it!
“Well, that’s delightful,” Lady Evara said, “but there’s still a dead man in my stable.”
“Once our business is resolved, I will call the carriers and mourners, and I will personally explain this accident to the city guard so that there is no risk of confusion.”
Tamra jumped in. “Yes, it was an accident. The man ventured into a kehok stall without the knowledge or permission of any trainer.”
Lady Evara snorted. “That’s not an accident. That’s idiocy.”
Tamra suppressed a smile—she should have known Lady Evara would take her side, even without hearing all the facts. She wouldn’t want to lose the gold of having a kehok destroyed, or risk a blow to her reputation. “Agreed, Gracious One,” Tamra said.
But what did he mean about purchasing the kehok? That was nearly as alarming as the thought of the city guard and racing commission becoming involved. She could win but still lose here.
“I tell you, it was no accident!” Raia’s father blustered. “This was negligence”—he poked a finger toward Tamra—“and malice.” He then poked his finger toward Raia.
His wife nodded emphatically and added, “We’ll testify to it, if we must, though it breaks our hearts. It is the duty of a parent, and a true Becaran, to put what is right above what is easy.”
Fixing her piercing eyes on Raia’s parents, Lady Evara said, “This could have occurred with any kehok in any facility. On behalf of those in my employ, I deny any allegations of negligence or malice. You will withdraw those foolish claims and swear never to repeat them.”
Raia’s parents looked offended. Her mother said, “A man has died! We will not compromise our moral principles.”
Raia uncurled herself in her chair. “They will if you pay them.” Her voice wavered, but she sat up straight, and Tamra felt a burst of pride. She most likely had little experience in standing up to her parents, at least successfully, judging from what Tamra knew of her life with them.
As her parents began to object to this view of their character, Augur Yorbel stopped them. “You seem to have forgotten that I read souls.”
Raia’s father fluffed himself up like a peacock. “Outside the temple, it is forbidden—”
Chiming in, her mother said, “You cannot read auras without consent!”
“Silence, both of you!” Lady Evara barked. “If you behave very, very well while the augur and I do our negotiation, then you may be appropriately bribed for your silence at its conclusion. Alternatively, you can continue to irritate me, and I will see to it that your reputations and livelihoods are destroyed. Am I clear?”
Raia’s parents gaped at her.
That, Tamra thought, was amazing.
Augur Yorbel frowned. “I am uncomfortable with the ethical ramifications of the word ‘bribe’ . . .”
Without missing a beat, Lady Evara corrected her wording. “You will be consoled with monetary comforts in recompense for your pain and suffering.”
Both Raia’s father and mother sat down promptly, stiffly, and silently, and Tamra revised several of the insulting things she’d believed about Lady Evara in the past.
Raia was even more elated—she looked as if she wanted to cheer. She contained herself, though, which Tamra thought was wise. This was now between Lady Evara and Augur Yorbel, and if the track bookie were here, Tamra knew whom she’d bet on. But is a win for Lady Evara a win for us?
“You mentioned the purchase of my prize kehok,” Lady Evara said, “and I am afraid that’s not a simple request. The Becaran Races are my passion, and the black lion and his rider have shown significant potential with their performance in their first qualifying race.”
Augur Yorbel inclined his head, as if acknowledging Lady Evara’s passion. “As you may know, the emperors of Becar have a long tradition of participating in the famed Becaran Races with kehoks of their own. It was only in recent generations that this tradition was broken and the royal stables disbanded. The new emperor-to-be has tasked me with restarting a stable, in his name, beginning with the finest, fiercest racer I can find.”
Lady Evara smiled, and Tamra couldn’t help but think of the jackals that lurked on the edges of the city—her smile was like their expression when they scented prey. “You are purchasing for the emperor-to-be. With his funds. To bring him his very own racer. How wonderful.” Even Raia’s parents had leaned forward in their seats, as if scenting gold in the air. Tamra recoiled from all of them.
It was all coming apart. Even if they stayed out of jail and weren’t banned from the track, how could their future be anything but ruined if the augur bought the lion? Tamra felt a tightness in the base of her stomach, as if her body wanted to revolt. She wished there was a breeze in the waiting room. The air felt thick and still, with a sour scent. As if their conversation was curdling the very air.
Affecting a sigh, Lady Evara continued, “But I am afraid even that noble purpose does not affect my reticence. This kehok, with its superlative trainer and promising young rider, has a chance at bringing me to the grand champion’s ring, a long-held dream of mine. Ah, to see the Heart of Becar again at the peak of the races! To be at the center of it all! The thrill of it! The joy! You are asking not only to purchase a kehok, but also to purchase a dream.”
That . . . seemed a bit much. But she didn’t really care about Lady Evara’s dream of grand parties and overflowing praise. Even without them, her patron would be rich and comfortable and no worse for wear. But for Tamra, Shalla, and Raia, this was their future. Tamra had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from speaking up.
She had to bite hard enough that she bled, so she wouldn’t scream.
“Two thousand gold pieces,” Augur Yorbel said.
Raia’s mother made a little whimpering noise.
Tamra felt her jaw drop. That was an extraordinary amount for an opening bid. Hadn’t this man ever haggled before? And how could Lady Evara refuse? Tamra could already feel Shalla being pulled from her life by the augurs.
“Far too low,” Lady Evara said. “For me to even consider an offer—”
And then Raia jumped in, before Tamra or anyone could stop her. “I have to come too.”
Everyone turned and stared at the girl.
Lady Evara, who hadn’t so much as glanced at Raia yet, pierced her with her uncomfortable gaze. Tamra saw Raia squirm, as if she wanted to slip out of the chair, out the window, and out into the desert.
Knowing protocol had already been violated with this interference in their negotiation, Tamra spoke up, nothing left to lose at this point. “A racer needs a rider and a trainer. You buy the kehok, then you must also employ us.” Even as she said them, though, she wished she could take back the words. Because the reality of what she’d just demanded hit her: she couldn’t go to the Heart of Becar with a kehok and an augur, miles and miles away from Shalla!
And yet, Raia needed this, and Tamra did too. It would mean separating from Shalla for now, but if they won, it would ensure they could have a future together. “The races have already begun, and there isn’t time for the kehok to become accustomed to a new trainer and rider.”
She expected Lady Evara to be angry at the interruption, but instead she was smiling even more b
roadly. “What a splendid idea!” Lady Evara cheered. “You can’t simply purchase a kehok and expect to be competitive in the race. Hire Trainer Verlas, Rider Raia, and me as the emperor-to-be’s personal consultant. Plus three thousand gold pieces, and I will be appeased.”
“Our daughter owes us a percentage of her winnings!” Raia’s mother chimed in.
“Fifty pieces for your silence now,” Lady Evara said without even glancing at them, “and five percent of her winnings, after my cut.”
Tamra quickly added, “And if she wins grand champion, you set her free.”
“Fine,” Raia’s father said. “But if she fails to pay, we spread word of the murder and cover-up that happened here. You don’t want that kind of gossip when you’re in the Heart of Becar.”
Augur Yorbel looked somewhat panicked, Tamra thought. She wondered if he’d ever had to negotiate, seeing how all his needs were seen to by the temple. She almost felt sorry for him.
“Agreed,” he said. “We will leave for the Heart of Becar in the morning. Until then, we will honor the life of . . .” He trailed off, clearly unsure of the man’s name.
“Celin of Seronne,” Raia supplied. “He was known for killing his prior wife and escaping justice by blaming his servants.”
“Ugly gossip,” Raia’s father said, but his face paled just a bit.
“I saw his aura, and it was corrupted,” Raia said. Then she ducked her head and added, “Or what I could read of it.”
“Which shows once again how dishonorable—”
Augur Yorbel stopped them before they argued again. “We will honor the passage of a life, for all life is holy, and we will pray for his redemption—and our own.”
“Splendid!” Lady Evara clapped her hands. “Deeply sorry for your loss. I must pack!” She hurried out of the shabby waiting room. Watching through the window, Tamra saw Lady Evara climb into her chariot. Pulled by four strong men, she thundered away toward her palace.
Raia’s parents accompanied Augur Yorbel to summon the carriers to handle the body, and Tamra and Raia were left alone. “That didn’t go as I’d expected,” Raia said tentatively.
Race the Sands Page 20
