The Shadow Of What Was Lost by James Islington Page A

opposite.
“So. What now, Dav?”
    Davian drew the Vessel from his
pocket, staring at it intently. As always, it was warm to the touch. Was it his
imagination, or was it emanating more heat than previously? After a moment he
replaced it with a shrug. “We keep heading north, I suppose.”
    Wirr frowned. “Into Desriel?” He
began chewing at a fingernail, a sure sign he was nervous. “You do know that
any Gifted that the Gil’shar capture are executed as heretics, don’t you?”
    Davian nodded. He’d read about
the Gil’shar: part government, part religious body, they had absolute authority
in Desriel. “I think they call us abominations rather than heretics, actually.
They say only the gods are supposed to wield the Gift,” he said absently.
    Wirr massaged his forehead. “You
might be missing the point, Dav.”
    “I know. But the Boundary's a
long way north; we were always going to have to go further. And if the sig'nari
are in Desriel, that’s where I need to go.” He hadn’t come this far to turn
back. “If you don’t want to come, though, I will understand.”
    Wirr hesitated, for a moment
looking as though he was considering the offer before shaking his head
irritably. “You can stop staying things like that. Given where we are, I think
I’ve proven that I'm with you the rest of the way.” He sighed. “Can I safely
assume you have absolutely no plan to get over the border?”
    “Elder Olin always said you were
very astute.”
    “He always said you were the
sensible one, too,” pointed out Wirr, his tone dry. He thought for a moment.
“The bridge over the Devliss is like a fortress; people get stopped and checked
with Finders on both shores, even on a night as busy as tonight. Not to mention
that this makeup on our arms won’t stand up to close inspection - we wouldn’t
even make it past the Administrators on this side. So the first thing will be
to find another way across the river.”
    Davian raised an eyebrow. “You’ve
been here before?”
    Wirr was silent for a few
moments, then nodded. “I have. Briefly. Let’s leave it at that.”
    Davian inclined his head. The two
of them had an unspoken agreement to never discuss Wirr’s life before the school;
whatever had happened to him, it was clearly too painful to talk about. Wirr
had simply lied about it to the other students, but he hadn’t had that luxury
with Davian.
    “So we find a boat,” said Davian.
    Wirr shook his head. “The Devliss
is all rapids and waterfalls. Wide, too. There's a reason that Talmiel is the
only crossing.”
    There was silence as they both
thought for a few seconds, then Wirr blinked in surprise as his stomach emitted
a low growl. “Perhaps we can think on it further over dinner?”
    Davian hesitated. “What if there
are Administrators in the common room?”
    “In a place like this? Unlikely.
They’ll be out there, soaking up the attention.” Wirr gestured at the window as
he spoke, through which the faint sounds of music and laughter were drifting up
to them. “Besides, it would be suspicious if we stayed holed up in this room
tonight. That innkeep may be friendly, but I doubt he'd be shy about mentioning
unusual behaviour to a passing Administrator.”
    Davian conceded the point, and
they made their way back downstairs. The common room was crowded; a few tables
here and there were unoccupied, but for the most part everything looked just as
one would expect on the night of a festival.
    Wirr nodded towards an empty
table against the wall, slightly apart from the rest of the room. They gave
their orders to a pretty serving girl with a put-upon expression on her face,
then sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, watching the proceedings,
each lost in their own thoughts.
    They ate with gusto when their
food came; with their careful shunning of built-up areas over the past few
weeks, hot meals had been a rarity. The fare was plain but filling, and it
wasn’t until Davian was settling back with a sigh