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thought she would cry out in pain.
    The soothsayer again approached her and placed his hands on hers. Icy hands, the flesh barely covering the bones. Abruptly, he took the tray from her. She took a deep breath, and the pain flowed out of her limbs like receding water. Behind her, there were sighs of relief. But neither her father nor Kiddin batted an eyelid.
    The
barù
placed the livers on three terra-cotta cylinders surrounding the statuette of his god. From a large leather bag he took a number of written tablets and a sheep liver made out of glazed pottery. He went quickly and removed the curtain that obscured the opening nearest the table. The curling blue smoke, as thick as seaweed, danced in the daylight that flooded the room.
    The soothsayer was on his way back to the table when a strange noise made him stop in his tracks. A kind of hissing sound, almost like a whistle. Everyone stiffened, eyes wide with anxiety. The soothsayer looked intently at the livers. A bubble was forming on the left-hand one. Slowly, blood flowed over the lobe. Again the hissing sound was heard. A murmur of fear ran through the assembly. Sarai felt her father trembling against her arm.
    The soothsayer took a cautious step forward. The liver slid off the cylinder that was supporting it. Folding like a wet rag, it fell to the floor. A cry of terror filled the temple, followed by a frozen silence.
    Sarai did not dare look at her father. Her throat and the small of her back were tight with fear. Without saying a word or looking at the assembly, the soothsayer went to the table, bent his aged body, seized the liver that had fallen to the floor, and placed it in an empty basket next to the cedarwood shavings. Then, without any explanation, he bent over the remaining entrails and listened.
    A sigh of relief went through the audience and everyone prepared for a long wait.
    Sarai knew she would need both courage and patience. The process could take a long time: several hours by the water clock. A soothsayer might begin his analysis of the oracle at noon and not finish until twilight. Each part of the liver had to be examined carefully. The
barù
would touch them, rub them, slice them. He would count the cysts, the fissures, the pustules, then check their location and significance against the terra-cotta liver and what was written on his tablets. He might also write down his observations on fresh tablets.
    This time, however, it did not take long. An hour at the most. The soothsayer lifted his frail body, washed his bloody hands, and carefully wiped them. Ichbi Sum-Usur stiffened. Sarai heard him breathing more heavily. Her own heart was beating faster. Anxiety once again gripped the small of her back.
    Without so much as a glance at her, the
barù
came back and planted himself before her father.
    â€œThe examination is over, Ichbi Sum-Usur. As you’ve seen, your great-grandfather refuses his oracle. This is what I found in the others. Two livers: an elevation on the left of the spleen. One liver: a perforation. One liver: a cross on the finger. One liver: two fissures at the base of the throne. One liver without any fissure. Tomorrow I will let you have the tablets confirming all this. The oracle is favorable to your daughter. A good and even willing wife. A faithful wife, even though it is not in her character. As for her fertility: two children. Possibly boys.”
    Sarai’s father laughed, and at the same time she heard her relatives’ exclamations behind her. But before she could be sure whether the oracle was good or bad for her, her father raised his hand.
    â€œ
Barù,
why does my father’s grandfather refuse his oracle?”
    â€œYour great-grandfather refuses to answer your question, Ichbi Sum-Usur,” the
barù
said, with a glance at Sarai.
    â€œWhy?” Ichbi Sum-Usur asked again, raising his voice. “Have I made the wrong choice?”
    The soothsayer shook his head. “The question was: Will