It must have taken him days to find the right path through the æther. If he tried again, with a séance, he might be able to send me a message. I couldn’t work out why he’d sent it to Liss. He knew my aura; it should have been far easier to find. Maybe it was the pills, or some kind of interference from the Rephs—but it didn’t matter. He’d tried to reach me. He wouldn’t give up.

Julian’s voice broke through my thoughts: “You really know other jumpers, Paige?” When I looked at him, he shrugged. “I thought the seventh order was the rarest.”

Jumpers. A loaded word. An order of voyants, like soothsayers and augurs. It was the category into which I fell: those voyants that could affect or enter the æther. Jax had started the great separation of voyants in the thirties, when he was about my age. It started with On the Merits of Unnaturalness, which had spread like a plague through the voyant underworld. In it, he’d identified seven orders of clairvoyance: soothsayers, augurs, mediums, sensors, furies, guardians, and jumpers. The latter three, he’d written, were vastly superior to the others. It was a novel way of looking at clairvoyance, which had never previously been categorized—but the “lower” orders hadn’t reacted well to it. The resulting gang wars had lasted two bloody years. Jax’s publishers had finally withdrawn the pamphlet, but the grudges lingered.

“Yes,” I said. “Just one. He’s an oracle.”

“You must be pretty high up in the syndicate.”

“Quite high up.”

Liss ladled a bowl of skilly for me. If she had an opinion on the pamphlet, she didn’t voice it. “Jules,” she said, “could I have a few minutes with Paige?”

“Of course,” Julian said. “I’ll keep an eye out for the reds.”

He left the shack. Liss looked at the stove. “What’s wrong?” I said. She drew the blanket closer.

“Paige,” she said, “I’m scared for you.”

“Why?”

“I just have a bad feeling about the celebration—you know, the Bicentenary. I may not be an oracle, but I see things.” She took out her deck. “Will you let me do your reading? I get the urge to read certain people.”

I hesitated. I’d only ever used cards for tarocchi. “If you want.”

“Thanks.” She placed the deck between us. “Have you had your signs read before? By a soothsayer or an augur?”

“No.” I’d been asked many times if I wanted a reading, but I’d never been convinced that peeking into the future was a good idea. Nick sometimes gave me hints, but I usually didn’t let him elaborate.

“Okay. Give me your hand.”