Eye of the Beholder

ridiculous. After all, we're surrounded by a few thousand people. Of course someone is bound to be looking at us at any given moment."
    "There's a difference between having someone look at you and having someone watch you," he said quietly.
    "I'm sure it's just my imagination."
    Trask said nothing.
    "Trask?"
    "Okay, I'm feeling a little weird, also."
    "The guy with the flute?"
    "You noticed him too?"
    "He moved," she said. "Perfectly normal tiling for a street musician to do."
    "I'm not into this metaphysical stuff, but I do have a healthy respect for my own instincts." He took her hand and tugged her toward another aisle of booths. "Let's see if we can get lost in this crowd."
    They threaded their way deep into a knot of people drifting slowly along a path. Alexa glanced at the man and woman next to her and noticed that they were both wearing badges that read Tesla Lives.
    The small crowd swept them up and carried them off in a seemingly haphazard direction. A few minutes later, Alexa felt Trask's fingers tighten around her wrist. He pulled her toward the fringes of the group.
    "Now what?" she asked.
    "I think we lost him, assuming he was following us. But just to be on the safe side, let's get our auras read."
    "Our auras?"
    "Why not? You said this fortune-telling stuff was fun."
    Trask used his grasp on her wrist to haul her through the opening of a yellow and white tent. Alexa glanced at the whimsical sign and managed to read part of it.

    AURAS READ AND ANALYZED

    The flap fell closed behind her before she was able to make out the fine print. The interior of the tent was enveloped in gloom. A single small lamp glowed at the rear.
    A woman spoke. "Ah, customers at last. About time."
    Small bells tinkled. A figure garbed in a gown shaded in a dozen hues of green rose from a green, tasseled cushion. The green silk scarves that covered her head cast her features into deep shadows. "Came to get our auras examined," Trask said with a stunning nonchalance.
    Alexa was impressed. He sounded as if he got his aura read twice a month on a regular schedule.
    "Wonderful. I've been bored all evening." Bells chimed softly again as the woman in green motioned to two large, fringed cushions. "Please be seated."
    Alexa looked around as she sank down onto a plump cushion. "Slow night?"
    "Very." The aura reader took her seat in a graceful, practiced movement. "But that's generally the way it is in my business."
    "I'm surprised," Alexa said. "I would have thought that aura reading would have been a major attraction at a psychic fair."
    The veiled head inclined in agreement. "Some of my colleagues will do quite well tonight."
    "There's a huge crowd outside," Alexa said. "How come you're not swamped with customers?"
    Trask frowned as if it had just occurred to him to question the fact that they hadn't had to stand in line.
    "Not everyone wants a true reading," the aura reader said. "But that's fine by me. It takes energy to read auras, you know. I can't do a lot of them in an evening. Now, if you don't mind, I'll get rid of some of the light."
    "Why do that?" Trask asked as she reached out to turn down the small lamp.
    "It's easier to see auras in darkness," the woman said matter-of-factly. "At least for me. I can sense them in any light, but to do an accurate reading, I must have darkness."
    "Sure," Trask said. "Everyone knows that." He glanced back at the closed tent flap.
    Alexa followed his gaze. She flinched when she saw a great, looming shadow of a man outlined against the wall of the tent. Memories of her encounter with the intruder in Liz Guthrie's house came back in a rush.
    The shadow moved on. It was soon replaced by another, much smaller outline. A child. Alexa breathed out slowly in relief. The outside lamps were casting the shadows of any fair-goers who passed close by onto the fabric of the tent.
    She turned back. There was just enough of a glow coming through the tent to make out the figure of the aura reader.
    "Hmm," the reader said eventually.
    "I take it we don't have interesting auras?" Trask said. He did not sound overly concerned at the prospect of having a dull aura.
    Alexa sensed that his attention was on the shadow play taking place on the wall of the tent. She wondered if he was watching for the outline of the man in the jester's costume.
    "On the contrary," the reader said. "Both of you have extremely intriguing auras." The dark outline of her veiled head turned toward Alexa. "Yours is strong and bright. The