Book where a boy who has the ability to see the timelines of living creatures as lines in the air.

He was raised near an invisible wall that instilled terror in all who came near it. He was a trapper, until one day when crossing a raging river near a huge waterfall, he sees a village boy near the edge. The village boy falls into the river but grabs a rock right by the edge. The protagonist boy drops his pelts and rushes to save the boy, but then another boy from the village uses his time power to slow down time on both boys. This causes the protagonist boy's time seeing powers to allow him to see a man from the past standing right on the rock where the boy is hanging.

He falls into the man and the man grabs the rock right where the boy is, so the protagonist boy can't grab the village boy's hand because the man's hand is overlapping it. Because of this the village boy loses his grip and falls, and the protagonist boy must run away so he isn't killed for supposedly murdering the village boy.


Pathfinder by Orson Scott Card

Rigg is well trained at keeping secrets. Only his father knows the truth about Rigg's strange talent for seeing the paths of people's pasts. But when his father dies, Rigg is stunned to learn just how many secrets Father had kept from him--secrets about Rigg's own past, his identity, and his destiny. And when Rigg discovers that he has the power not only to see the past, but also to change it, his future suddenly becomes anything but certain.

Rigg's birthright sets him on a path that leaves him caught between two factions, one that wants him crowned and one that wants him dead. He will be forced to question everything he thinks he knows, choose who to trust, and push the limits of his talent…or forfeit control of his destiny.

From this excerpt:

But then he saw that the boy had moved out onto a rock. It was much too close to the lip of the falls -- Rigg knew that it was the beginning of a path that had the most deaths of any.

Rigg waved and gave a sign with both hands, as if he were pushing the boy back. "Go back!" he yelled. "Too dangerous!"


There wasn't room on the rock for Rigg to jump for it; though it was very close, it was too likely that he would kick the boy's fingers in the process of stepping there. So instead, Rigg knelt on his rock and then let himself topple forward, planning to catch the boy's rock with his hands, making a bridge of his body.

Only something strange happened. Time nearly stopped.


So in mid-fall, he became aware of, concentrated on, a barelegged man who was standing right in the middle of the rock to which the young boy was clinging. The man's back was to him; but because Rigg was falling so slowly, he had plenty of time to register that the man was dressed in a costume rather like those on the old fallen statues and crumbled friezes of the ruined buildings where the newer of the two old bridges had once rooted into the cliff.


But this man was a soldier or athlete; he whipped around in mid-fall and reached out and clutched the rock, so that when he fell he dangled from both hands.

His left hand completely covered the right hand of the boy.

Apparently two solid objects could occupy the same space at the same time. Or, technically, not at the same time, because the man was actually here hundreds of years ago, but to Rigg it was the same moment. The man's hand was solid. Rigg could feel it as his own hand, flung out by reflex to support himself after the collision with the man's leg, slid across the rock and rammed into the fingers of the man's right hand.


Just as Rigg's hand once again settled over the man's left wrist, trying to get past him or through him or under him to reach the boy, Rigg saw the boy's fingers lose their grip and slide away from the rock, slowly, slowly ... and then they were gone.


If Rigg still had his huge bundle of pelts and skins, that would be a problem. Umbo would have plenty of time to get to the village and back again, no doubt with men who would believe his story and who, in their rage, might not listen to Rigg's version of events.

As it was, if Rigg hurried, he would be at the bottom of Cliff Road and away before Umbo could get back. And unless he or someone else in the village had an ability like Rigg's, there would be no tracking him. An expert tracker was hard to track, Father had told him, since he knew what signs a fugitive shouldn't make in the first place.


Tear-filled eyes don't find a good path. So Rigg stemmed his grief, cleared his eyes, and continued through the woods, looking for the back way to get to Nox's rooming house.

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