Free Rogue Oracle by Alayna Williams

The cat clock gave him a sidelong glance as he walked noiselessly down the hall to the bedroom. His hand hesitated on the doorknob. He turned it softly, pulled it open.
    Illuminated by the weak streetlight pouring in from the window, Tara lay on her side. The thick fringe of her eyelashes cast shadows across her cheeks, and her hair tangled over her shoulder, rising and falling steadily in sleep.
    Harry noiselessly crossed to the bed. He reached out, wanting to caress that pale cheek, but his hand dropped away. His fingers twitched, sensing some chill that he wished he could erase.
    Sadly, he walked away, closing the door behind him.
    In her sleep, Tara exhaled. When she breathed out, her breath steamed like the cold fog of a breath on a winter’s day, taking the shape of the World consuming Lena.

Chapter Five
    T ARA HAD been able to shake the dream when she’d awoken, but not the chill.
    “You’re not getting sick or something, are you?” Harry asked over coffee.
    Tara shook her head, though she’d wrapped her hands around the coffee mug and was holding it close to her chest. She’d drained the hot water out of the apartment water heater, and was still cold. She couldn’t explain it, but it was a chill that had seeped deep into her bones. Like winter. “No. I’m okay.”
    Harry reached across the tiny kitchen table and pressed his hand to her forehead. “You’re cold.” His touch lingered for a beat longer than necessary, and Tara covered the flush in her cheeks by taking a sip of her coffee.
    Unlike the dream, this morning felt like a very odd domesticity. Very normal. Tara had never known much about normal, and it felt really nice to be reading the paper at a kitchen table without oracles running underfoot, flinging rose petals or falling into trances.
    “It’s summer. It won’t last,” she said. She hoped. She’d never experienced a dream as vivid as the one last night, even when she’d meditated on cards before. They’d seemed less real, more like academic exercises. Tara wished that her mother was still alive, that she could ask her what this strange change in her powers meant.
    Harry frowned, took his cup to the sink to rinse it. “I warn you, lady, I’ll be watching you,” he said, in mock seriousness.
    “I think we’ve got more serious things to worry about.” Tara stood to collect her purse and attaché case.
    “Yeah. Like keeping Veriss busy.”
    “He’s under your skin that much already?”
    Harry made a face and stared at his cell phone. “Yeah. He’s sent two text messages this morning about a briefing first thing. I’ve got the feeling that’s gonna be two hours of my life I’m not gonna get back.”
    “Maybe it won’t be that bad,” Tara said, following Harry out the door.
    “I bet he has fucking slides to show us.”
    “If he has slides to show us, I’ll buy you dinner.”
    Harry grinned. “You’re on.”
    T ARA LOST THE BET . T HERE WERE SLIDES . L OTS AND LOTS OF slides.
    “This is worse than when Pops goes on vacation,” Harry whispered to Tara when Veriss had his back turned.
    Tara rolled her eyes and shifted in her chair. Her butt was already numb, and she looked at her watch. They’d been listening to Veriss natter on about his research methods for over an hour, and there were no signs of abating. Aquila had already ducked out to respond to a phone call, and hadn’t returned.
    “… as I mentioned, I’m combining elements of chaos theory and game theory to create predictive models for human behavior. Chaos theory assumes systems that react to small errors in initial conditions, yielding larger effects.” Veriss drifted before the projector in the dim conference room. Differential equations were displayed behind him. Christ, he even had a laser pointer.
    “Yeah,” Harry said. “We got that, already. The Butterfly Effect. A butterfly flaps its wings and causes a hurricane halfway across the world.”
    “Well, that’s an overly simplified way of putting